I am ridiculously proud of this moment. I present to you a short story written by a dear friend and captive writer that I have trapped in my orbit, Dash M. Her writing is bleak and cold and sharp and in many ways the opposite of mine. My writing is loud and raucous and can’t decide if it is funny or scary, both come at you from unexpected directions. I can’t help but feel clumsy in comparison to her grace.
Rye is itself a product of fan fiction, in a sense, though it has passed through years of cycling ideas and concepts to come to its current form to be the object of my demented love. It began with a short story called Goblin Lake by a writer whose name I remember to be Marcus… something………… and I was so ANGRY at his story that I spent the next FIVE YEARS bothering my friends shouting at them with ideas of what I would have done instead. Some of the things I have shouted have been drafts of stories. A great many of the things I shouted are in Rye.
I am very lucky that this story is a piece of love and not rage. Dash has taken a moment of my main character’s childhood and really grasped the vulnerability and uncertainty not only of my changeling, but of her parents and of the children around her.
It not being published yet, enjoy this rare sneak peek into Rye!