“Gathering of the Clan”, Front & Centre #26

Front & Centre Issue # 26

My short story “Gathering of the Clan”, one of my more twisted little tales, has just been published in Matthew Firth’s Canadian magazine Front & Centre # 26.  Apologies for the quality of the scan – it looks much better in the flesh.  It’s available by post at the Black Bile Press website: click on the cover photo..

Here’s the opening as a wee taster.

There was a smell in the room, no doubt about it, and it wasn’t from the dead body. She smelled better than she had for ages, you know that acrid, underwear reek because the poor old soul had been forgetting herself? No, it wasn’t her. She even looked good now, better than she’d done for years, and I marvelled at the undertakers’ art, the hours of moisturising, revitalising, to smooth off that dried up, deadwood skin like greaseproof paper left in the oven too long.

“She looks her old self,” said Carrie, clutching my arm with her left hand, her right fluttering on the edge of the coffin, her face contorted, mascara sludged, nose snottery.

“Your mother smells,” I’d once said, when Carrie’d noticed I avoided kisses. Goodbye ones were the worst, because by then she’d be well pissed and stinking of dark rum.

“She’s old. She’s never got over my father dying,” she’d said.

That was a laugh. From the snippets I’d got over the years, the bitch had spent three weeks mourning the old guy in the pub with a few of his cronies who’d fancied shagging her for years. And some who had. And all of them went on to.

Carrie sniffled, dabbed her nose with a handkerchief. Surely you can smell it too? I thought. Fuck, what was that smell. There was definitely something boak-inducing about it, and unless someone opened a window or I got out quick, I was going to deposit my dinner right in the lacy lap of the dearly departed.

“I’ll go and make a cup of tea,” I said. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

Carrie did not want a cup of tea, she wanted a large vodka tonic, but she had enough of a sense of decorum not to ask for one with the priest in the room, some fat wee cherub who didn’t know the McAllisters and would have run a mile if he had.

“Yeah, go on, Martin, go and make a cup of tea. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

The priest’s ears twitched, but he didn’t look at us. I smiled at her, leaned down into her hair as if to kiss her ear. “Fuck you,” I said.

Matthew also sent me a copy of his new collection., “Shag Carpet Action”, which I’ll review some time soon when I get round to finishing the mammoth Civil War history I’m reading.  But a quickie called “Three Women on a Bus” is a bleak tale of frustration and temptation that is out of reach on the back seat.  It reads really well and ends on a pitch perfect note.  I look forward to reading the whole collection.

“Occasional Demons” review, Front & Centre magazine

Occasional Demons

Matthew Firth, editor of Front & Centre, was kind enough to send me a copy of Issue 4 the magazine from way back, with a review of my short story collection I’ve never seen before.

What surprised me were the stories Matthew singled out in the review.  “Unto Myself” is the longest short story I’ve ever written, and I have to say I was proud of its plotting, characterisation and visualisation.  It took a long time to get right, but I think it worked out fine and would be good on screen; it would need to be done in Gaelic, though, so if you know any film directors from Stornoway, let me know!  It’s not a story many people notice, though; “The Practicality of Magnolia” and “Twitchy” tend to catch the eye.

And he drew attention to “How Will You Grieve”, an unashamedley emotional tale of grief that I thought was one of the weakest in the collection:  however, I value Matthew’s  opinion, so if he says it’s solid, I’m not going to argue.  I just didn’t think, as an inveterate dirty realist, he’d notice a tearjerker like that.

Here’s the review in full:

“Raymond Soltysek’s Occasional Demons differs from a lot of first collections of short stories.  Unlike many first efforts, Soltysek shows considerable muscle and flexibility as a short story writer.  He does not find one format that works and then hammer away at it for 160 pages.  Soltysek is just as comfortable writing about a horny middle-aged man trawling the dreary streets of Glasgow for hookers as he is writing about an unassuming priest on a remote Scottish island who finds himself an accomplice to murder.  As well, Soltysek shows not only flexibility with respect to characterization and plot, he blends styles effectively in this book, for example, mixing in vernacular Scottish language when needed, but not using it as an over-powering device.  This conscientious control shows Soltysek’s poise and maturity.  Occasional Demons is  a successful book as a result.

The most intriguing story is “Unto Myself”, a longer work centred on the aforementioned priest.  The priest’s transgression brings upon him not the perils of Christian guilt but the wrath of a local pagan woman with the “sight”.  Here Soltysek documents clashing traditions in a small pocket of Scotland.  He also gives us a glimpse of some of the contradictions inside us all.  “How Will You Grieve?” also stands out, as a man is so overwhelmed by his father’s demise that he somehow fails to notice or comprehend that the rest of the UK is reeling after the death of Princess Diana.  Life events are put in refreshing context here; why shouldn’t we grieve for those we know and love instead of some distant icon?  But I still couldn’t help being drawn to those unlikeable male beasts that crop up here and again in the book.  In “The Bus Fare Down the Tubes” a man is spitting venom after leaving his wife and suffering the torment of a frustrating job.

Soltysek has written a provocative collection of short stories. He is one among many fine new Scottish writers bursting into prominence.”

Thanks, Matthew.  I still haven’t quiet “burst” yet, but I’m working on it…

“Gathering of the Clan”, Front & Centre Magazine

“Gathering of the Clan”, a version of which I performed at the From Glasgow to Saturn reading party, will be published by the Canadian literary magazine, Front & Centre, in the autumn.

Front & Centre is a brave and challenging magazine.  Edited by Matthew Firth, it began life when he was studying in Scotland, but went back home with him to Ottowa.   The submission guidelines give a taste of what the magazine is about:

“We are looking for fiction set in a realist tone, that concerns the contemporary. We are strictly non-genre and DO NOT publish science fiction, horror, fantasy or fluff of any kind. We prefer dirty realism, urban angst, noir and tales of ordinary woe.”

Issue 3, in 2000,   included one of my earliest and most misanthropic, stories, “Twitchy”. It’s nice to see that, eleven years later,  it’s still going strong and publishing stories that are uncompromising and arresting.

Matthew Firth

Matthew is an exceptionally talented writer himself, and his own short story collections – “Strange Meat”, “Can You Take Me There, Now” and “Suburban Pornography” – are well worth checking out.    You can also find him showcased on Laura Hird’s cult website, and an interesting interview with him on Verbicide.

As this is my first literary magazine inclusion for several years, I owe Matthew thanks for his support. It’ll be nice to be in print again.