THE NIGHTMARE NETWORK

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- Personal (https://www.ligotti.net/forumdisplay.php?f=112)

- - Jane (https://www.ligotti.net/showthread.php?t=1709)

Looks great Odalisque!! I did notice a typo in the last line I think Jane almost spilled the drink instead of splitting it hehehe

"Now, the dimness of a stormy mid afternoon suggested evening – of the year, as well as the day." I really like this line!!! Thanks for sharing!!!

Quote:

Originally Posted by candy (Post 11085)

Thanks, Candy! :) You must have read the last post on this thread very soon after I posted it. I noticed that she'd almost split her drink very quickly, :D and did a swift edit.

May you never split your drinks! :drunk:

I finished Chapter 3 today (barring a some polishing scheduled for later in the week). Here are some reflections from after the battle:

“Why did you ask,” I said, after the whisky kiss had tricked down my throat, “about whether I needed to sleep?”

“I’m still tense, after the battle. You’ve released the beginning of it, but there’s much more to come. But, if you need to sleep, I’ll try to manage on my own.”

“What was the battle like?” I asked, steering the conversation away from masturbation.

“What do you think? You saw the girls when they came back. We cut and were cut. It all happened in a blur, really. My sword slashes and orders were mostly instinct. It’s only afterwards that I can think.”

“That’s what the whisky’s for, isn’t it, Modesty? For me it was to seduce you – for you to still the thoughts.”

“It comes down to the same thing, Jane. If we thought, we’d miss life – the pain and pleasure alike.”

I dropped from sight on this board because I was ill and, afterwards, feeling a bit under the weather. But I've been fully recovered for a week or two...

The main reason for the extension to my absence was "Jane". A large proportion of my recent computer hours have been devoted to work on my novel. If anyone's interested in seeing any of the completed chapters, please let me know... I'll need your email address to send them, of course... Candy seems enthusiastic about the book.

I'm back now, anyway, although I don't expect the TLO to occupy as much of my time as it once did. The same, I suppose, goes for the rest of the Internet. Maybe it goes double for the rest of the Internet.

Welcome back, Pet. :-)

Good luck with Jane - which I hope to read when I've finished 'Odalisque'.

Others here may be interested to know that my comments on each chapter (and your counter-comments) have reached Chapter 34, linked from here:
http://weirdmonger.blogspot.com/2008/06/odalisque.html
des

I completed work of Chapter 6 today. Here's a snippet:

“Anyway, you were telling me about that New Year, the one when I was a chorus girl, and you didn’t stay up till midnight.” I sensed that Modesty was steering me away from a saddening topic, just as I’d diverted her a little earlier.

“Yeah, well, Nicola came over at lunchtime. We had soup made from the Solstice goose carcass. It was jolly good. Then, after we’d eaten, Nicola and I went out for a walk. We met a couple of girls from school who we hated – and called each other names. I thought we’d won the battle. My last insult was cunt-arsing ####wits, pretty strong stuff.”

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t have approved – nor your headmistress”

“Too right they wouldn’t!”

“And – after the cunt-arsing ####wits?”

“We went home and helped mum get the chicken dinner on the table. She allowed Nicola and me to have a glass of elderflower wine apiece. We felt really grown up. And Nicola was sleeping over with me, so we didn’t really mind being packed off to bed.”

“You were packed off to bed after the chicken dinner?”

“No – not that early. We weren’t babies. Nicola washed the dishes, while I dried and put the things away. It had to be that way round because I knew where everything went. Then mum got out her squeezebox, and we sang songs. Rolled back the rug and danced as well.”

“We had a squeezebox player for our showgirl routine. Her name was Harriet, a blonde. At that time she was about your age, now. She was always giggling.”

“My mum doesn’t giggle much, but she likes to play. She’s quite good, too. Better yet, she played the latest songs, like the one that began…” I started to sing softly, but jauntily.

I like to wriggle with a wriggly girl
Take her down and give her a whirl
Grab her by the hand, and let her twirl
Twirly whirly wriggly girly
Early, late or anytime girl – woo-hoo!

To my surprise, Modesty joined in before I’d completed the first line. Singing together, we rose from the bedroll and danced under the moon. She took the lead, clasping my waist tightly. After a couple of choruses, we fell to the ground, making love beneath the stars.

“It’s funny, you know, but I danced to that song not long before the masked ball – and our showgirl routine. It was at Solstice…”

“Roast goose?”

“Two of them – but there were twelve of us at table. Afterwards I danced with the usurper’s daughter to that song. And we made love.”

“Was she pretty? Or as young as I am?”

“She was much older than you – twenty-seven, I think. And not exactly pretty, but there was something about her… hard to describe…”

“That makes me think – I wonder what we’ll say of each other, Modesty, in years to come.”

“You’ll say that I was an old degenerate from whom young girls should have been protected.”

“I don’t think I will… But what are you going to say about me?”

“That you were a saucy young madam, who should have still been at school under the watchful eye of her headmistress… but secretly using filthy language to girls she didn’t like.”

“Do you think you will – really?”

“No – I expect I’ll say that you were lovely, sweet and innocent, a breath of fresh air in this camp. I’ll say that I loved you, although I never meant to do it.”

“You didn’t mean to, did you, Modesty?”

“You know damn well I didn’t.”

She sounded close to tears. Reaching out, I held her tight, lying on the damp grass, a cold breeze playing upon our near nakedness. It seemed to me, in that moment, that I was the adult comforting she the child. Never before had I known Modesty so vulnerable. With an access of wisdom beyond my years, I sensed that her captain’s persona masked a myriad hurts from an often painful life. We kissed chastely, as though I were her mother. One day, I realised, I would have a daughter – and would strive to protect her from suffering such as my lover had known.

“I wish…” I said.

“What do you wish, my love?”

“I wish that I could lift from you every bit of suffering you’ve ever known.”

“Then I wouldn’t be the person you love any more.”

“Do we have to be hurt, Modesty?”

I have now completed eight chapters of "Jane". If anyone is interested in reading them, feel free to send me your email address (in a private message). I've sent chapters as email attachments to a couple of TLO members, and am willing to send them to more of you. :)

There's something on which I'd like to ask the opinion of people on this site...

In the current chapter, I introduce someone whom (on the basis of her dress, make up, jewellery, hair) we would probably regard as a Goth. But I felt that, in Jane's world, people would not use the term "Goth". So I needed to coin a new term. I came up (instinctively, and with no thought) with the name "gravehouse" to describe the look. Now, I'm wondering whether "gravehouse look" is a propitious phrase for describing this. What do people think?