Friday, February 04, 2005
A Thong And A Bow Tie
My short story, Heart of a Child was pulled from the February issue of Wild Child at the last minute. It will be published in the March issue instead. I received the email this morning explaining it was because of “inconsistencies with the British English”.
I looked over the piece when I got to work but couldn't figure out what the editor means so I posted a request to my writer’s forum to see if any of the US members can help. It’s weird because the story is set in Ayrshire in Scotland and I deliberately did not include any local dialect. So I’m stumped – for now.
The morning raced in – mostly because I worked on redrafting The Oasis. I changed a lot of it around and there is still more work required to give it a suitable background and impact. I do like it though – it’s very unexpected the way it unfolds, and it now sits at 4700 words.
Lunchtime saw me back in Clark’s. It’s been two weeks now and somehow it felt right. Dave and Tom were already there when I arrived at 12.05pm and Tom was celebrating his new flat purchase in Leith which finally went through. The 10ft by 7ft bathroom, complete with jacuzzi atop a plinth seemed to be the biggest talking point.
I left them for a while between 2.30 and 3.30 due to core corporate hours. It was a tough hour, and I very much regretted it. Some offers from writers in my group came forward, so I fired off the story over to their email boxes to see what they could make of it.
With work out the way I rejoined the lads back in the pub. We had a couple more pints, a game of darts, then I headed round to St. Vincent's with Tom (Dave was ordered home after a stern telephone call), and I was dismayed to discover it has been SOLD!
It appears the owners have sold up to a chain, which is sad news. It means the pool table will go, along with the atmosphere and cheap booze. It is the only place in town I know of that sells double-spirits for the price of a single - no matter what day or time it is.
We teamed up with some other guys already playing pool and formed a big match. With the double vodkas flowing merrily and Tom hammering even at pool it soon became apparent that my quick drink after work had degenerated into a melee once more. Tom agreed it was best we don't drink together too often, but as I left to go home the last thing I heard him say in his cheery Irish accent was, "Same time next week then?"
When I got home I was rather merry - ahem - and I joined Gail and her pal in another couple of drinks and some discussions about things I can't really remember now. What happened next though, is not something I am going to elaborate on in too much detail. I am not proud of it, though at the time it was probably very funny. Suffice to say, it could be a while before I follow through when dared to do anything else that involves a thong and a bow tie ever again.
I looked over the piece when I got to work but couldn't figure out what the editor means so I posted a request to my writer’s forum to see if any of the US members can help. It’s weird because the story is set in Ayrshire in Scotland and I deliberately did not include any local dialect. So I’m stumped – for now.
The morning raced in – mostly because I worked on redrafting The Oasis. I changed a lot of it around and there is still more work required to give it a suitable background and impact. I do like it though – it’s very unexpected the way it unfolds, and it now sits at 4700 words.
Lunchtime saw me back in Clark’s. It’s been two weeks now and somehow it felt right. Dave and Tom were already there when I arrived at 12.05pm and Tom was celebrating his new flat purchase in Leith which finally went through. The 10ft by 7ft bathroom, complete with jacuzzi atop a plinth seemed to be the biggest talking point.
I left them for a while between 2.30 and 3.30 due to core corporate hours. It was a tough hour, and I very much regretted it. Some offers from writers in my group came forward, so I fired off the story over to their email boxes to see what they could make of it.
With work out the way I rejoined the lads back in the pub. We had a couple more pints, a game of darts, then I headed round to St. Vincent's with Tom (Dave was ordered home after a stern telephone call), and I was dismayed to discover it has been SOLD!
It appears the owners have sold up to a chain, which is sad news. It means the pool table will go, along with the atmosphere and cheap booze. It is the only place in town I know of that sells double-spirits for the price of a single - no matter what day or time it is.
We teamed up with some other guys already playing pool and formed a big match. With the double vodkas flowing merrily and Tom hammering even at pool it soon became apparent that my quick drink after work had degenerated into a melee once more. Tom agreed it was best we don't drink together too often, but as I left to go home the last thing I heard him say in his cheery Irish accent was, "Same time next week then?"
When I got home I was rather merry - ahem - and I joined Gail and her pal in another couple of drinks and some discussions about things I can't really remember now. What happened next though, is not something I am going to elaborate on in too much detail. I am not proud of it, though at the time it was probably very funny. Suffice to say, it could be a while before I follow through when dared to do anything else that involves a thong and a bow tie ever again.
Colin 7:54 pm
1 Comments:
ROF! Thanks for the mental picture, Colin! Let's just hope it was your WIFE wearing said items!
;-)
;-)
