Oh, have a drive-by darling
Dec. 3rd, 2013 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceSo I am, as maybe heretofore mentioned, reading through a collection of my stories to proof-and-polish before this first approximation goes off to the publisher to be squabbled over (and also to a certain tall gentleman who promised to write an intro, tra-la).
By and large, these stories fall within the last ten years or so of work; some are older, but not many. Nevertheless, I find that almost all of them surprise me, one way or another. I really do have a piss-poor memory.
Anyway: here's the opening of one such, which I had almost entirely forgotten, and which I really liked on reacquaintance:
"Sailor Martin. You should not be here."
The voice came from the tangle of shadows in the back of the shop. It was salt-abraded, familiar, unchanging. Live long enough, go far enough, you will find those things that never change: the places, the people, the truths.
Not many of them, and not all are welcoming or welcome, but still: they stand like islands in the sea, islands in the storm.
Johnnie was, is, always will be one of those. Johnnie calls himself a chandler, and that's as dishonest as he's ever been. Johnnie sells much that came from the sea, but nothing that's useful to a sailor, nothing that any boat should ever want or need.
By and large, these stories fall within the last ten years or so of work; some are older, but not many. Nevertheless, I find that almost all of them surprise me, one way or another. I really do have a piss-poor memory.
Anyway: here's the opening of one such, which I had almost entirely forgotten, and which I really liked on reacquaintance:
"Sailor Martin. You should not be here."
The voice came from the tangle of shadows in the back of the shop. It was salt-abraded, familiar, unchanging. Live long enough, go far enough, you will find those things that never change: the places, the people, the truths.
Not many of them, and not all are welcoming or welcome, but still: they stand like islands in the sea, islands in the storm.
Johnnie was, is, always will be one of those. Johnnie calls himself a chandler, and that's as dishonest as he's ever been. Johnnie sells much that came from the sea, but nothing that's useful to a sailor, nothing that any boat should ever want or need.