March 2010
45 posts
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For Help - M. R. Wallis
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For the Notion of Emotion of Three in a Bed
‘Who’s to lose when there are three in a bed?’ they said; ‘sheets a mess,
two plus you, who can fail with that much male! six hands, three cocks
doesn’t that make a better fuck?’
I guess—perhaps maybe possibly but isn’t one gonna be the guy
who has to sit aside and watch instead? out of the fun, outdone, alone
with his hand and waiting to cum?
And where’s the passion when all you...
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For the Notion of Emotion of Three in a Bed - M....
“A woman once drew me writing. Overwhelmed, I forgot to ask her name.”
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For Dicks - M. R. Wallis
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For Dicks
There are so many people with their dicks out on the net I don’t want to watch a man wank off on Chatroulette or see you sell your wares on interweb gaylairs, cock out arse up, backwards lean, angles gleam’d to make you look good. No, thanks, I will not ‘post my cock pix pls’. At least in a way there’s dignity in porn you see for some might say at least they’re doing it for money— not a...
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The Gentleman with Pine Coloured Hands - M. R....
“You know you must be a writer when the first thing you think of when you read...”
– Me
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For Rapture
You came into my life, not a walk a stagger a flomp-on-a-couch with, but a bang a crash a stone-through-a-web, you arrived - an’handsome: shot the hinges off the vault to my heart.
- M. R. Wallis
To that which you never forget.
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A secret: I wrote this poem drunk. I really...
For My Unloved - M. R. Wallis
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For Hope is also a Resplendent Fool - M. R....
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“Dear Twitter: 140 characters are not enough for me to evoke the currents and...”
– via Twitter, me
“Someone compared me to a fragile angel the other day. I reckon it’s more...”
– Me.
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Recommend
I’d really like it if you could recommend me: click.
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The Only Maid In The City
From book two, volume one - Euphemia is set three tasks to fulfill.
THE ONLY MAID IN THE CITY It is true that of the city’s inhabitants only Euphemia knew of the interconnecting rings, the concentric circles, the Underpassages, the Underways, the Slate Trails, the Marble Halls, the Altars and the Chapels that comprised the hidden-away undercity of the metropolis; only her, with the...
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The Worries of Egalturn
Removed, as working on the novel over summer.
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Felix Harkalt
Felix Harkalt - First Draft
Felix Harkalt sat on the steps of the Natural History Museum, twiddling the gold key in his hands, attempting to figure out how he had been forced to stay on watch the night when everyone had to, by law, be at the festivities. He shrugged and drew out a small packet of red spice from his breast pocket and began to roll it into a cigarette to smoke. Might as well have...
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The Employment of a Prostitute
First draft, so it may very well be rough. The [insert] is an interjection by Time.
The Employment of a Prostitute
Captain Peter Percy wore a grey wig and silver spectacles with plain glass fitted in their frames propped halfway down his bulbous nose, dabbled with burst capillaries. Within the glass his eyes darted about, the fleshy bags crowded by mauve streaks. Lines furrowed his forehead...
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Minor Prophecy
In her grief the widow shall construct a prayer
but in her madness she shall not hear it
and in her clarity she shall not allow it.
- M. R. Wallis
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Opening
‘The city, at least, in the broadest sense of the metropolis, hoarded in its vast walls a multitude of unhappy citizens. Pale and narrow-chested, the working populace had hollow eyes and long, drooping, dripping noses; even the youthful: those children so considered to be the future race of this generation had, in their smiles, a certain aspect of forced happiness. Their eyes were...
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Mnemosyne & Morgan
‘The twins were identical in every way except their manner, where they were torn. Mnemosyne and Morgan were simulacra of one another: partial copies, superficially identical in their looks, but a twisted echo in their traits. Although unconditionally bound by both their minute-difference births, and their genetic fingerprints, in part: through love, they were in constant battle with...
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Eustace, Duke of Lancaster
‘Eustace, the portentous fool: a rumpled, walrused, rat-of-a-sack of gut and bone; so contrasting, so mirrored in Lord Erol’s sculptured form. His mind, too, suggesting foolish workings, foolish cogs whirring slowly and sluggish in his fat skull. Stupendously unerudite he seemed, in his manner, to grasp at a brash and harsh ignorance of the world. He wore a top hat, black and lined...
Applications
Don’t romanticise your “vocation”. You can either write good sentences or you can’t. There is no “writer’s lifestyle”. All that matters is what you leave on the page. - Zadie Smith
Writing to me is not only a love but a discipline and addiction. It is not about drinking ‘Bukowskis’ in University writing-group socials, or constantly...
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'The Love Book' #2
I’ve spoken already about the LOVE book. That extract is from the ‘internal’ book of the novel (i.e. the book the main protagonist is reading). The following is an extract from the ‘exterior’ book (i.e. the book that the reader is reading … as it were).
It’s rough and sketchy and nowhere near polished.
‘There was, amongst the denizens of Earth, a...
