Friday, June 15, 2018

THE ORPHAN SCRIVENER -- ISSUE # ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN -- 15 JUNE 201

Lately our household appliances have been getting together to misbehave, so our recent days have not featured dances of delight (obligatory tip of chapeau to Phil Ochs). Even so, Orphan Scrivener waltzes along and so strike up the band!


MARY'S BIT or IF YOU WERE A GHOST...

Summer is here and that means an increase in entertaining indoors and out. For the socially shy such occasions can be nerve wracking and the biggest question to be faced is how to start a conversation with a stranger?

When I was in my teens offering a light was a sure-fire way to get the conversational ball rolling, but that possibility is now largely gone with the smoky wind, despite encouragement offered by the Singing Postman's 'A 'Ee Got A Loit, Boy? sung in broad Norfolk dialect -- so much more comfortable than formal dress, no?

I never had much patience for another popular opening, an enquiry about birth signs. However, impatience is a trait astrologers generally connect with Sagittarius -- not my sign, so make of it what you will. If you have the patience.

Many conversations in these jamborees start with a query concerning what the other party does to scratch out a living, why not ask about interesting or comical incidents at their workplace instead?

If asked the latter question I would relate the fraught occasion when I dropped the tray while taking the visiting chairman of the board's light lunch to him. The ham and salad were scattered far and wide, the coffee puddled at my feet. Panic ensued among the other secretaries. It was early closing day and so replacing the all important ham was just not possible. So I washed it extremely well, gave the salad a second thorough sluicing, made more coffee, and brazened it out. When I collected the tray our chairman said it was the best ham he had ever tasted.

Then there was the time I was offered the very nice job on which I had set my sights. I am convinced to this day I snagged it because the boss and I spent most of the hour long interview discussing The Lord of the Rings, both of us being Tolkien fans. How did this meeting of the minds come out? Because I was asked about my hobbies and replied reading was important to me. I am not so sure such a question would even be allowed these days.

Another good conversational opening: the most embarrassing incident the other person saw. For example, when I still lived in England I happened to be in a fish and chip shop among several people standing at the counter chatting to the fryer while waiting for the next batch of chips to be cooked. A fellow came in and gave one of my fellow queuers a hearty boot in the rear. Needless to say, he immediately whipped around and confronted the kicker, who went pale and said "I thought you were someone else!" There has to be a story behind the incident, but I never learnt what it was, alas.

A handful of gambits more recently composed with my immediate thoughts on what I would reply if asked myself. What's on your bucket list? (To see the sea again). I've often wished I could tap dance, how about you? (True, but I don't think my wonky ankle would like it). Ever noticed how the sets of many TV shows or films have a barometer in the background? (We have, and they are more numerous than might be thought. Also, says Eric, sightings of a stuffed bear). What's your favourite remedy for flu? (Try a lemon drink as hot as you can stand it and then off to bed immediately). If you were a ghost, where would you haunt? (Still debating that one).

I do have a natural advantage when beginning conversations with strangers. It's not so much starting one as just listening once the other person hears my accent, for I find a high proportion of people I have met in this country have either been to the UK or would like to visit it. So we get along like a house on fire comparing notes on places they've visited over there or would like to see one day.


NECESSARY EVIL or THE BSP TICKER

And now for the first of this year's summer round-ups...

AWAY THEY FLY or NERVOUS DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN

ARCs of An Empire for Ravens are currently flying off to reviewers, and once again the dark talons of anxiety grip us. It's curious, we admit, but no matter the nature of the first review, once it's out the nervous cloud lifts.

Empire's official publication date is October 2nd, but print editions are already available for pre-order from Amazon

shorturl.at/hBEKO

Barnes & Noble

shorturl.at/DJ389

and Poisoned Pen Press

https://poisonedpenpress.com/books/an-empire-for-ravens-a-john-the-lord-chamberlain-mystery-12/

For those who prefer them, the ebook will also become available in the next month or two.

KRL'S NEW VENTURE or A RUINED STONES EXTRACT

Kings River Life Magazine has just announced their new mystery podcast, Mysteryrat's Maze Podcast. Episodes will broadcast short mystery stories and first chapters of mystery novels, read by actors in California's San Joaquin Valley. We've just heard their November 6th podcast will feature an extract from Ruined Stones, published last July under our shadow identity Eric Reed. Those interested in subscribing to these podcasts should point their clicker to http://mysteryratsmaze.podbean.com. To check who'll be featured and when, KRL offer a podcast newsletter at http://tinyletter.com/kingsriverlife

SHORT AND SOMETIMES SWEET or INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORY MONTH

The news arrived too late for the last issue so here's the skinny. Members of the Short Mystery Fiction elist contributed to May's International Short Story Month, we among them with The Thorn (http://home.earthlink.net/~maywrite/thorn05.htm) and Or Equivalent Experience (http://kingsriverlife.com/10/20/or-equivalent-experience/), the latter inspired by a newspaper advert some years ago seeking participants for a psychic fair.


ERIC'S BIT or AN UNMUSICAL BRICK

Sunday afternoon I watched a live set by Priests on YouTube. Wikipedia identifies the band as post-punk. Music classifications have proliferated since the Sixties. Back then there was only rock n’ roll and all the other stuff I didn’t listen to. Whatever they are, Priests are loud. I listened while Mary did the laundry. The machine noise spared her from the concert. Don’t think I make my co-author drudge away while I entertain myself. After all, I serve as head cook and bottle washer at Casa Maywrite.

Mary and I do agree on a lot of music. She introduced me to Phil Ochs, the folk/protest singer who was never properly appreciated during his short lifetime. I haven’t quite converted her to punk rock. Oh, I dare say she can bear the Ramones, or at least pretends to. They are one of my favorite bands.

Music fascinates me in a way writing can’t. I’ve spent too much time writing for it to retain any glamor. I know too much about the mechanics. I know too well how tapping out letters one by one on a keyboard can ultimately result in a novel, but to me coaxing a song from guitar strings might as well be magic.

I am as unmusical as a brick. At college I was the only male student who didn’t sport a guitar around campus. When it came to mating rituals I was a peacock without a tail. The high point for my musical career was playing triangle in the fourth grade production of The Anvil Chorus, and not lead triangle either. Around that time my dad wanted me to learn trumpet, the instrument he played in the navy band, but I didn’t have the lung capacity or the interest. And who wants to monkey with an instrument you need to periodically let spit out of anyway?

Those trumpet lessons taught me that I lack the ability to comprehend not just musical notation but the very concept of notes. What are they? Where do they come from? Not out of my mouth, that’s for sure. I’ve got plenty of mumbles in there, and grumbles, rumbles, squawks, and croaks. All sorts of unpleasant noises, but not a single note. Our grade school music teacher taught us “Do Re Mi” but all I got was “Beats Me….”

No matter where I try to start a song it always ends up going too high or low. I’ve suffered a lifetime of public shame, lip syncing the National Anthem and Happy Birthday and The Old Wooden Cross while everyone around me warbled and boomed in joyful tunefulness. I got so much practice moving my lips vaguely I could’ve appeared on American Bandstand.

But the beauty of my musical ignorance is that I can listen uncritically, in amazement, with pure enjoyment. Unlike writing, music retains its mysterious glamour.

I was into rock and the British Invasion back when people were “into” things. The Kinks, Beatles, Doors, Stones.Then in the eighties, going to school in New York City, I toured Village record stores every week searching for the newest punk/new wave singles. I even squeezed in a few visits to the CBGB rock club, seeing Blondie, Wire, and the Dead Boys.

Lately I’ve been listening to music again after being out of touch for many years. It’s remarkable how many great new artists I’ve missed. My generation’s music didn’t have a monopoly on genius. Maybe I ought to take guitar lessons. Then again, why ruin it for myself?


AND FINALLY

As promised last time, we close with an update on last June's Great Red-Headed Woodpecker War. This year we've occasionally heard his buddies hammering about in the woods, but the dawn visits of a specific bird seeking to practice drum solos on our guttering last summer have not been repeated. These days the sleepy buzz of mowers forms most of what we hear, or at least before August heat makes lawns look forlorn and die off. Meantime, August 15th will see the next issue of Orphan Scrivener buzzing into subscribers' in-boxes.

See you then!
Mary R and Eric

who invite you to visit their home page, to be found hanging out on the virtual washing line that is the Web at http://home.earthlink.net/~maywrite/ There you'll discover the usual suspects, including more personal essays, a bibliography, and our growing libraries of links to free e-texts of classic and Golden Age mysteries, ghost stories, and tales of the supernatural. There's also the Orphan Scrivener archive, so don't say you weren't warned! Our joint blog is at http://ericreedmysteries.blogspot.com/ Intrepid subscribers may also wish to know our noms des Twitter are @marymaywrite and @groggytales Drop in some time!


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