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Introducing Breve New Stories

Writer’s Blog: Laurie Raye – How not to read a book

When approaching a book which contains stories it would be natural to assume that the purpose of the book is to read it. This is, after all, what most people do when faced with a book.

Edward Dimock, distinguished professor of South Asian languages, when his attempt to get access to an old and valuable Bengali text finally succeeded, discovered that all but one of the 360 pages were completely unreadable due to three centuries’ worth of worship with unguents and powders.

He only wanted to read it, but what a fool he was to think that all books were for reading.

So why ruin a good book? Because the texts themselves tell you to. Books can command their own destruction, and if you ignore their instructions you do so with the understanding that you have not experienced the book to its full potential.

“Before you read me, cover me in powder!” They say, and you do, because you want to do right by them.

When they can no longer be read, you pass it on by word of mouth. You tell your children what the book wants, long after it can tell you itself.

The oral tradition isn’t so far away from the written tradition after all. What could be more of a clear example of ergodic literature than a book that doesn’t want to be read.

Further reading on self-destructive books: Popular Buddhist Texts from Nepal: Narratives and Rituals of Newar Buddhism by Todd Lewis, The Role of Narrative in Nepalese Buddhist Vrata Literature by Laurie Raye.

Categories
Introducing Breve New Stories

Writer’s Blog: Laurie Raye – My experience with lesbian fiction

Laurie Raye’s flash fiction The Secrets We Wear on Our Skin is published in Breve New Stories Issue Three. Read it here!

I wasn’t prepared the first time I read Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. Had I known that this was going to be one of ‘those’ books I would have put on gloves before I touched it, or run very far away. My first taste of sapphic Victoriana was a whirlwind ride of intimacy and deception. It hurt me, that book, in ways which have left beautiful scars, and I loved every moment. Then came Tipping the Velvet, good gods, and I drowned beneath the fickle waves of London.

The next lesbian narrative I read took me by surprise. An emotional left hook to the face, as Allison Wanda Ruth and the demon Ciocie Cioelle Estrella Von Maximus the Third have very consensual, very normal sex inside the hollowed skull of a sleeping god. Kill Six Billion Demons by Tom Parkinson-Morgan has undoubtedly helped me develop a taste for mixing the supernatural and the sapphic.

Finally, My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness is a story unique in that it deals with the protagonist’s journey through her low self-esteem, crumbling mental health and how she reluctantly came to terms with her sexuality. It’s a lesbian narrative with a different focus, not on relationships but on the individual and the journeys we take by ourselves – an often overlooked facet of gay culture, that we are individuals first and fragments of a relationship second.

Categories
Introducing Breve New Stories

Writer’s Blog: Laurie Raye – Being Visible. The idea behind “The Secrets We Wear On Our Skin”

Laurie Raye talks about what inspired their flash fiction ‘The Secrets We Wear On Our Skin’ published in Breve New Stories Issue Three.

I got my first tattoo yesterday.

A leaping reindeer, flying through the sky with the face of an eagle and antlers bedecked with flowers.

It is the oldest tattoo design known to humanity. Well, that’s not entirely true. It is the oldest design which seems to be for no discernible medical purpose. Not an acupressure mark like on Otzi the ice man, this was just one of the many flying and frolicking animals painted on the skin of the Pazyryk ice maiden. Her body is a canvass of motion and colour, still alive so many millennia after her death. Despite everything, she is still visible to us.

Being non-binary, I exist within the margins. Neither this nor that nor here nor there. It is hard to categorize me, to label my experiences with definitive, limiting words. Dating is a minefield of ‘But what is between your legs?’ and ‘But what are you really?’ and ‘Wow, I’ve never kissed a transgendered (sic) before’ and, unfortunately, the inevitable ‘You are either a man or a woman u confused bitch!! Fuck off and die!’ whenever I try to date beyond the queer community bubble.

I have met my fair share of Lucys, and I have been my fair share of Morgans.

But slowly, slowly, I’m beginning to wear my heart on my sleeve and ink my secrets onto my skin for all to see. I’m not interested in being invisible. I’m not walking into the ocean, I’m walking into the tattoo parlour and asking for my reality to be made manifest. I will continue to make my true self visible.

That is why I wrote this story.