Fiction Fragments: Patricia Lillie

Lillie_hatLast week, horror writer Lynn Hortel stopped by to share her fragment and talk about the things that sometimes prevent us from finishing a writing project. This week, my friend and fellow Seton Hill alum, Patricia Lillie is here at Girl Meets Monster. Two weekends ago, I had the pleasure of catching up with Patricia at our MFA in Writing Popular Fiction alumni weekend. I hadn’t seen Patricia in a few years and our visit, however brief, was long overdue. You just don’t realize how much you miss someone until you see them and get a chance to remember why you love them so much. We stayed up WAY too late talking about financial troubles, our favorite beers, traveling abroad, life goals and how they change in middle-age, and, of course, writing. I hope I have a chance to catch up with Patricia again soon.

Patricia Lillie grew up in a haunted house in a small town in Northeast Ohio. Since then, she has published six picture books (not scary), a few short stories (scary), and dozens of fonts. A graduate of Parsons the New School for Design and Seton Hill University’s MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program, she is a freelance writer and designer addicted to coffee, chocolate, and cake. She also knits and sometimes purls.

Her debut novel, The Ceiling Man, was released in 2017 and is available for Kindle and in paperback. Find her on the web at www.PatriciaLillie.com.

Her much nicer alter ego Kay Charles writes cozy-ish mysteries. Ghosts in Glass Houses, the first Marti Mickkleson Mystery, is available now. Visit Kay on the web at www.KayCharles.com.

Three Questions

Girl Meets Monster: In the words of Chuck the Prophet from Supernatural, “Writing is hard.” Do you have a lot of unfinished projects? What do you do with them?

Patricia: I have a veritable shit-tonne of fragments stashed in various folders all over my hard drive. (Someday, I should collect them all in one place.) Most are beginnings that went nowhere. Sometimes, I find them later, they strike some chord, and I turn them into stories. Sometimes, they get published.

Girl Meets Monster: Which of your fragments have you gone back to and eventually published?

Patricia: “The Cuckoo Girls” (in Nightscript, Vol. 1, edited by C.M. Muller) started as a fragment I didn’t know what to do with and stashed away. Sometimes, they aren’t what I thought they were. What I thought was the beginning of a short story of quiet horror turned into the beginning of my first cozy mystery. (Boy, did I have to some cleaning up there!) Most of the time, say 99.9% of the time, they go nowhere.

Girl Meets Monster: What was the inspiration for this fragment?

Patricia: This was written in response to a prompt, at a time when I was stuck and making no headway in what I was supposed to be working on. I believe the prompt had to do with a character who shares a name with a character from a favorite book, but don’t recall exactly what it was. I do recall some of the places I thought it might go at the time, and yeah—none are good. Which is why it’s one of those unfinished fragments. No title, because I have a hard enough time coming up with titles for finished projects.

Untitled Fragment, by Patricia Lillie

Merricat Williamson wanted to write a ghost story. For that, she blamed her parents, who never told her the origins of her name, and her Freshman Comp professor, who led her to find out.

In her first class on her first day of college, he called her name. She answered “Present” even though she wished she was anywhere else in the world, but mostly in her room at home, instead of over-dressed and crammed into a tiny desk in an un-air-conditioned room at XXXX Community College, and he said something about living in a castle. At first, she thought he was calling her a princess. Dr. Benjamin George was beautiful. Merricat felt a flush rise from somewhere near her big toe up her body until her cheeks stung with heat. She heard the snicker from the back of the room—it had to be Miss Perky Blond Prom Queen—and she knew she’d been insulted. Tongue-tied, she said nothing and squirmed in her seat. Dr. Gorgeous-Georgous finished calling roll. Merricat didn’t catch the last two names, but one of them belonged to the Prom Queen.

As soon as she had a chance, she Googled “Merricat” and “castle” and discovered her parents were even more twisted than she thought. She spent the next two classes hiding in the back of the room, but over weekend she read We Have Always Lived in the Castle followed by The Haunting of Hill House. Had she read them before her first week of college, she might have answered the castle comment with, “Just call me Nell,” but she’d never heard of or read Shirley Jackson. For that, she blamed her high school English teachers.

Merricat Williamson always had lots of blame to spread around.

On Monday, she took what had become her regular seat in the back corner. Miss Royally Perky bounced into the room, scurried past five empty seats, and plopped down beside her. The girl was short. Really short. About a lollipop over Munchkin-level short. Merricat nearly gagged at the cloying smell of cheap perfume, but kept her mouth clamped shut and her eyes glued to the front of the room. Georgeous-Georgous was late. He needed to get there and start class before the pocket-sized prom queen tried to talk to her.

“We should be friends,” Little Miss Perky said. “I have a literary name too.”

Merricat ignored her and hoped she’d take the hint.

“Dorrit.”

Merricat burst out laughing. Her high school English teacher lived and breathed Dickens. Although Merricat had never read Little Dorrit, the title alone was enough to cause the pint-sized perk-miester endless grief.

“Yeah. Trust me. I’ve heard it all my life. My parents are barely above midget status themselves. I totally blame them.”

Merricat wasn’t ready to get too carried away, but maybe she’d found a friend. She didn’t make friends easily.

Next week horror writer C. R. Langille joins me here at Girl Meets Monster. Would you like to be part of this kick-ass blog series? Comment below, or drop me a line at chellane@gmail.com. See you next week!

Fiction Fragments: VM Burns

Author PhotoLast week poet B. E. Burkhead dropped by for a visit, and this week V.M. Burns is here to share an unfinished mystery. I say unfinished rather than abandoned, because not only am I hoping to read the finished novel, but Valerie told me she fully intends to finish writing it when she has some time. Of course, she’s a little occupied right now with her three mystery series: The Mystery Bookshop Mystery Series, The RJ  Franklin Mystery Series, and The Dog Club Mystery Series.

I met Valerie in the MFA for Writing Popular Fiction Program at Seton Hill University a few years ago, and we became fast friends during late night conversations where we planned our futures. I learned about raising poodles and a great recipe for sweet potato pie, and Valerie learned WAY more than she ever wanted to about vampires and other spooky stuff. I’m looking forward to seeing Valerie this weekend at Seton Hill’s MFA Alumni weekend.

V.M. Burns was born in Northwestern Indiana. She is a lover of dogs, British historic cozies, and scones with clotted cream. She currently lives in Eastern Tennessee. Her debut novel, The Plot is Murder was nominated for a 2017 Agatha Award for Best First Novel. Readers can learn more by visiting her website at vmburns.com.

Three Questions

Girl Meets Monster: What made you decide to write a mystery inspired by fairytales?

VM Burns: After I completed my thesis novel and Mystery Bookshop series, I struggled to find a home for either series. I slowed down on sending queries and decided to write something fun. I loved watching Once Upon A Time on ABC and thought how fun to combine Fairy Tales with cozy mysteries.

Girl Meets Monster: Aside from time, what stopped you from finishing this project?

VM Burns: My agent isn’t excited about this project. She feels it may be too far out. So, when its done I will need to edit and market it myself which is going to take more time than I have.

Girl Meets Monster: Without giving us any spoilers, do you know how this story ends?

VM Burns: Not yet, but I’m a pantser so this isn’t unusual.

Once Upon A Murder, by VM Burns

Chapter 1

The day I discovered my archenemy dead with one of my brother’s arrows through her heart changed the course of my life forever, and turned my brother into a fugitive. My dreams of happily ever after were shattered and I became a huntress of truth and justice. But I’ve gotten ahead of myself. I’ll start at the beginning.

Once upon a time in the small sea side village of Andersonville, lived a beautiful princess named Boadicea, or ‘Bo’ for short. Well, she wasn’t really a princess, as in someone of royal birth. However, she definitely wore the mantle of privilege and superiority like a robe befitting a royal. Bo was tall and slender with long blonde hair which was thick and curly. Not curly like the thick red, wiry mane that tops my head and frizzes up into a birds nest when it’s humid. Nope. Bo’s hair never frizzes. In fact, the more humid the weather, the curlier her hair becomes. It was magical the way the weather had the exact opposite effect on her than it did on me, but then Bo’s life was charmed. Blue eyes like the sea in the early morning. Skin like butter milk without a zit in sight, she often boasted she’d never had a zit in her twenty-five years. Hard to believe? Truly, I’ve known her my entire life and I’ve never seen her with a blemish or imperfection of any kind. During our teenage years when most girls, myself included resorted to unique makeup diversions and fashion accessories like scarves, hats and veils to hide the red, puss-filled mounds that erupted at the worse possible moments; or the scars and craters that followed. Oh no. Not Bo. She, like Mary Poppins was practically perfect in every way. But, I’m not bitter. Well, maybe a little, but I’m working through it.

“Hey freak.”

Unfortunately, Bo’s obnoxious attitude wasn’t helping. I should be used to her after all these years. Freak, Red-headed Freak, and clown head were the pet names she’d used to address me since grade school. The fact that she had no compunction against shouting them across the village square during the middle of the day while the villagers chuckled and stared at me was another reason bitterness had become my constant companion.

Time taught me ignoring Bo would only make matters worse. Thankfully, the gods only saw fit to crown her with beauty rather than wit. Brains were the only weapon I possessed and in a battle of wits, Bo was ill-equipped for the fight. With a heavy sigh, I turned and faced my opponent.

I bowed low and mumbled, “You screeched your majesty.”

Bo and her entourage, which consisted of her two closest friends, Mary Lamb and Dee Locke (Goldy to her friends) stood in the middle of the market and stared at me as though I smelled of dung. Which might have been true since I had taken a short cut through a couple of fields to get to the market early enough to setup my booth. Darn, I would never be able to sell enough baked goods if I smelled of cow dung. I’d have to get someone to watch my stall and change clothes. Or at the very least, I’d change shoes. But then maybe the scowl on their faces was just their normal pained expression.

“What is that god awful stench?”

Seriously, I want to read the rest of this story.

Next week, Lynn Hortel joins Girl Meets Monster with an unfinished horror story and a few words on why it’s hard to finish projects sometimes. Would you like to be included in this blog series? Comment below, or send me your writing fragments to chellane@gmail.com. See you next week!