Yes. You buy a 250g block and recipes say 25g, 50g and so on. We don't have sticks. I think sticks is a US speciality. Someone told me what a stick was, I think it's like, a quarter of our block or something. I'll have to look it up again 😅
It sounds like one of many abominations they sell in other countries that are labelled as British things. They sound expensive and gross 😂 I seriously need to try lemon curd and cream on a scone though. I bet it tastes better than whatever one of those things are.
In California we sell pineapple bagels and strawberry tortillas. We muck up all kinds of ethnic foods, never leaving well-enough alone. Always the twist... ridiculous.
"The holy Macarena of anxiety." Hah! Yes! I see it. And the older you get, the more important that dance is. What a delightful story. I, of course, was anticipating a happy ending with the girl in the car, but that wouldn't have been real life. That would have been the dreaded Hallmark moment. Nice work, Clancy. I loved it.
I really liked this. For me, this story is about vulnerability, taking risks, being in the moment and being kind, even when you get nothing back for it. In this increasingly transactional world, where it’s all about “Me first, my country first,” it is refreshing to do good and be good, even when no one expects it. That is therapy in itself. No one knows the final outcome of the Good Samaritan parable, just like no one reads the final outcome of this story, post scone, either. And, by the way, lemon scones with coffee are good, although I much prefer raspberry!
Carole -- what a great and insightful comment. I didn't even think of this story as a sort of parable but like much of my writing (I posted about this yesterday) I do think it can be regarded as such. I do agree that today's problem is that people are individualists and are propelled that way by social media. But mostly, you are are right, it is about taking risks and being in the moment. And being kind - empathy. thanks so much for reading and welcome to PNP
thanks George. it's one of those I really wondered if I accidentally stole the 'macarena' thing. I looked all over for it but I think it just came to me
Poor guy. Haha. I love how he just talks on and on to a stranger like that. I don't blame him, though. A lemon scone does not sound good. I can barely eat a lemon Starburst. Great read, Clancy.
thank you parker!! seems like you’re new to substack fiction, so welcome. there’s a lot of great writers here, depending on what you like. i see you’ve published on amazon, so you’re a step farther than me!
Yeah, man. I've been writing my Fairfax & Glew series for years but with little promotion. I thought I'd promote it on here but now I'm into writing new stories on here. Really digging it. I'm going to check out your reading list and see who else to follow. Your stories are the best so far. Gonna switch to paid shortly. Thanks for cranking out quality work, man.
Oh bless his heart. I just want to wrap your narrator up in cotton wool 💜
And thank you for the nod to dry British humour - we are indeed, in dire need of the sweetness of a bit of a laugh 😂
I reckon the lemon scone represents empathy, perhaps an olive branch - am i hot or cold? If she had been more receptive, or just have been having a better day, maybe he would have felt more positive about socialising 🤦♀️
hey nicole! I think he is someone who would love to be wrapped up and protected from all and ANYTHING, but I don't know if that'd be best for him! I think he needs to get out there, you know? the lemon scone can represent whatever you want, but as you pointed out in your other comment, to me I think it's empathy. thanks for reading!
The lemon scone would appear to be a kind of gift offering, in the true sense of the word meaning that you give it without expecting anything in return. She didn't thank the narrator for it, but it was an act of generosity all the same.
I feel seen. The awkwardness and over-explaining! The nice and friendly made weird. And the sting of not being understood when the woman just rolled up her window without even a thank you! I’m certain I’ve been this narrator. How beautifully you capture it.
aw thanks Liz! yeah I think this one resonated with a lot of people simply because lots of people know anxiety and how it comes in its many forms. thanks again for reading :)
This piece is good, I like this. It shows a different voice and some different stylistic tics than are apparent in most of your writing, leading me to the idea most of your choices, stylistic or otherwise, are carefully crafted to make you sound like something you're not. (In short, I don't think you write with your real literary or writer's voice. You're using artifice and structural preconditions as a way to formally experiment AROUND your voice. Which is valid, also, goes with the whole pseudonym thing. Well done.) However this makes your writing interesting in that it effectively would ensure that you're a literary mimic and chameleon, which is also fine, shit's my bread and butter when you get down to it.
I like you, but something about you, I can tell by how this is written in comparison to enough of your other pieces, just shows me you're hiding in plain sight. I don't know what though, and I don't know why.
He is handing her his shame to offset the fact that he didn't have cash while trying to execute an empathy which he obviously is not, look up the definition of empathy if you're tainted by pop cultural concepts of it that have infected the general mindspace, but this sounds like classic emotional bypassing by trying to hide one action behind another. Because he CLEARLY does not understand or share the feelings of the woman in the car.
"There was a tow-truck pulling up to a Volkswagen Jetta with an open hood. I might not have given it much thought except that I saw the driver was still in the car, facing forward and looking through the windshield, motionless, stone-faced, not even bothered to look at their phone, clearly in the throes of a crisis, the same face I would wear in that situation."
Depending on scene and setting this could be any number of things based on your description of the woman, who sounds like she's in shock of some kind. If your hood is open and a flatbed is coming to tow you, and you're sitting there stone faced, something traumatic has just happened. The description of her taking the scone suggests that while it was most likely creepy and weird, since she DID take the scone, even if she didn't even acknowledge him, she felt safe enough to take packaged food through the window of a car from a man who had just babbled an insane pile of word vomit. It sounds like could have used the scone, but the way he went about presenting it (like some sort of alien reading a script of how people ought to be, and this is coming from someone with a panic disorder) was probably just the weird icing on a shit day for her. So that could go either way. (In my experience people do not politely take food through their car windows from strangers unless they're going to eat it, especially if, like the story suggests, he doesn't appear to be a complete nutbar, he's just really fucking anxious.)
emil, thank you for your comment as always. I really do appreciate these.
I think you are giving me too much credit. I have many voices, and I write in the voice that comes to me and that fits a particular story -- there are threads of consistency through them that I think a true Steadwellian scholar could find, but you're right that much of it is constructed through mimicry or chameleonization. the truth is that I write things much more carefully than what I see most people say their process is on Substack; it takes me many tries to write even a single sentence. it can take hours to write 1600 words. every choice I make is very conscious, there isn't much flowing from the "literary" or "writer's voice" in the way that most people seem to describe.
I think this turns many people off and why, as you put it, I am kind of "outre" in terms of literature - some can tell it is constructed, so to speak. especially things that are parable-esque and people seem to like this piece because it seems more "real" maybe, even though it did not really happen. only the feelings are real, not the events.
as far as the woman in the car, you are right, she was in shock. or at the very least, unable to communicate due to her condition. and the narrator does NOT truly empathize with this, you're right.
in the end I am trying to do two things: entertain, and have worldly message. each time I write a story, I am going to do those two things differently, with varying success.
if I could step back and analyze what people seem to want from me, and the engagement I get from certain types of stories and voices, I could probably be a lot more consistent and popular. but I am incapable of that. I think I insist upon myself.
Listen to no one, one of the best short story writers of the past two generations, Amy Hempel, will spend up to two weeks. ON ONE SENTENCE.
I think those people are stupid and lack imagination or interest. They believe that just because your style is outre or not currently conventionally the norm, you don't have anything relevant or worth saying, which is patently foolish.
Your aims are good. Let no one dissuade you from them. Charlatans, one and all.
And don't compromise for swine. David Markson was a genius writer and novelist. Sure, he died in his Manhattan apartment and wasn't found for two or three weeks. But you know what, I have his complete works on a bookcase to my right, and his one novel, Wittgenstein's Mistress, is a classic of experimental literature.
Lemony scones are rather obtuse
Trying to eat one is of no use
If you give it away
It could end in dismay
Oversharing is a form of abuse
What's a lemon scone? I have never had one of these, and now I fancy a scone with cream and lemon curd.
you have me questioning if this was a real thing and apparently it is: https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/229571/amazing-lemon-scones/
I know my dad has made them before. I chose them because myself, in real life, actually I love lemon flavored baked goods.
Now they look really nice! Now I just need to work out what a stick of butter is and I have plans for the weekend 😂
hahaha omg. stick of butter. it's just... the whole stick of it! the long rectangle. IS BUTTER DIFFERENT IN BRITAIN?!?
Yes. You buy a 250g block and recipes say 25g, 50g and so on. We don't have sticks. I think sticks is a US speciality. Someone told me what a stick was, I think it's like, a quarter of our block or something. I'll have to look it up again 😅
a stale muffin
It sounds like one of many abominations they sell in other countries that are labelled as British things. They sound expensive and gross 😂 I seriously need to try lemon curd and cream on a scone though. I bet it tastes better than whatever one of those things are.
i promise it's a real thing here! thanks for reading Hanna
In California we sell pineapple bagels and strawberry tortillas. We muck up all kinds of ethnic foods, never leaving well-enough alone. Always the twist... ridiculous.
How dare you! You’ve never had one of mine. I sit on the Iron Scone in the Game of Scones.
Seriously, mine are not dry and ghey. I will literally seal some in fa ood saver bag and send them to you to prove this statement false.
this is so good clancy! I love this character and how much life you gave them in such a short story. bravo.
thanks for reading EJ! i hope they’re not too unlikeable
the opposite!
"The holy Macarena of anxiety." Hah! Yes! I see it. And the older you get, the more important that dance is. What a delightful story. I, of course, was anticipating a happy ending with the girl in the car, but that wouldn't have been real life. That would have been the dreaded Hallmark moment. Nice work, Clancy. I loved it.
sharron -- thanks for reading as always. thanks for pointing out the inverted trope of the ending and you're right -- it wouldn't happen in real life.
PS. Scones are meant to be eaten with TEA. The dryness is ameliorated.
but not coffee. if only the narrator knew
I really liked this. For me, this story is about vulnerability, taking risks, being in the moment and being kind, even when you get nothing back for it. In this increasingly transactional world, where it’s all about “Me first, my country first,” it is refreshing to do good and be good, even when no one expects it. That is therapy in itself. No one knows the final outcome of the Good Samaritan parable, just like no one reads the final outcome of this story, post scone, either. And, by the way, lemon scones with coffee are good, although I much prefer raspberry!
Carole -- what a great and insightful comment. I didn't even think of this story as a sort of parable but like much of my writing (I posted about this yesterday) I do think it can be regarded as such. I do agree that today's problem is that people are individualists and are propelled that way by social media. But mostly, you are are right, it is about taking risks and being in the moment. And being kind - empathy. thanks so much for reading and welcome to PNP
Glad to be here😊
That opener dude...I spit out my coffee on the tower windows
thanks George. it's one of those I really wondered if I accidentally stole the 'macarena' thing. I looked all over for it but I think it just came to me
Poor guy. Haha. I love how he just talks on and on to a stranger like that. I don't blame him, though. A lemon scone does not sound good. I can barely eat a lemon Starburst. Great read, Clancy.
thanks parker! it’s funny, i didn’t even know that lemon scones were kind of frowned upon in england, but i personally quite like them.
Oh yeah? Well, I might try one. You never know. You write great stories, man. I’m impressed.
thank you parker!! seems like you’re new to substack fiction, so welcome. there’s a lot of great writers here, depending on what you like. i see you’ve published on amazon, so you’re a step farther than me!
Yeah, man. I've been writing my Fairfax & Glew series for years but with little promotion. I thought I'd promote it on here but now I'm into writing new stories on here. Really digging it. I'm going to check out your reading list and see who else to follow. Your stories are the best so far. Gonna switch to paid shortly. Thanks for cranking out quality work, man.
Oh bless his heart. I just want to wrap your narrator up in cotton wool 💜
And thank you for the nod to dry British humour - we are indeed, in dire need of the sweetness of a bit of a laugh 😂
I reckon the lemon scone represents empathy, perhaps an olive branch - am i hot or cold? If she had been more receptive, or just have been having a better day, maybe he would have felt more positive about socialising 🤦♀️
hey nicole! I think he is someone who would love to be wrapped up and protected from all and ANYTHING, but I don't know if that'd be best for him! I think he needs to get out there, you know? the lemon scone can represent whatever you want, but as you pointed out in your other comment, to me I think it's empathy. thanks for reading!
Sorry, just read your note at the ending - haha you tell us it's empathy 😂😂
Great story, Clancy. I feel I can relate to the thought processes, hehe. Very vivid and loved the internal perspective.
thanks for reading Nathan! yeah I think the main quality of this story is relatability, you’re not alone!
I love anything lemon flavoured, but I still enjoyed this story and the narrator's inner monologues.
I actually love anything lemon flavored as well Maroun. I'd never give mine away! thanks for reading anyway.
The lemon scone would appear to be a kind of gift offering, in the true sense of the word meaning that you give it without expecting anything in return. She didn't thank the narrator for it, but it was an act of generosity all the same.
I agree jack. I like to think that, sometime afterward, she thought about it and was truly grateful. thanks for reading!
Excellent as always
almost as excellent as you. thanks Keith.
Pshhaww🤗
I feel seen. The awkwardness and over-explaining! The nice and friendly made weird. And the sting of not being understood when the woman just rolled up her window without even a thank you! I’m certain I’ve been this narrator. How beautifully you capture it.
aw thanks Liz! yeah I think this one resonated with a lot of people simply because lots of people know anxiety and how it comes in its many forms. thanks again for reading :)
I feel seen.
thanks for reading :)
seems like so many other did too. no idea I was writing such a relatable story.
I think the guy needed attention. :)
i think we all need a little attention sometimes. thanks for reading Nevena :)
This piece is good, I like this. It shows a different voice and some different stylistic tics than are apparent in most of your writing, leading me to the idea most of your choices, stylistic or otherwise, are carefully crafted to make you sound like something you're not. (In short, I don't think you write with your real literary or writer's voice. You're using artifice and structural preconditions as a way to formally experiment AROUND your voice. Which is valid, also, goes with the whole pseudonym thing. Well done.) However this makes your writing interesting in that it effectively would ensure that you're a literary mimic and chameleon, which is also fine, shit's my bread and butter when you get down to it.
I like you, but something about you, I can tell by how this is written in comparison to enough of your other pieces, just shows me you're hiding in plain sight. I don't know what though, and I don't know why.
He is handing her his shame to offset the fact that he didn't have cash while trying to execute an empathy which he obviously is not, look up the definition of empathy if you're tainted by pop cultural concepts of it that have infected the general mindspace, but this sounds like classic emotional bypassing by trying to hide one action behind another. Because he CLEARLY does not understand or share the feelings of the woman in the car.
"There was a tow-truck pulling up to a Volkswagen Jetta with an open hood. I might not have given it much thought except that I saw the driver was still in the car, facing forward and looking through the windshield, motionless, stone-faced, not even bothered to look at their phone, clearly in the throes of a crisis, the same face I would wear in that situation."
Depending on scene and setting this could be any number of things based on your description of the woman, who sounds like she's in shock of some kind. If your hood is open and a flatbed is coming to tow you, and you're sitting there stone faced, something traumatic has just happened. The description of her taking the scone suggests that while it was most likely creepy and weird, since she DID take the scone, even if she didn't even acknowledge him, she felt safe enough to take packaged food through the window of a car from a man who had just babbled an insane pile of word vomit. It sounds like could have used the scone, but the way he went about presenting it (like some sort of alien reading a script of how people ought to be, and this is coming from someone with a panic disorder) was probably just the weird icing on a shit day for her. So that could go either way. (In my experience people do not politely take food through their car windows from strangers unless they're going to eat it, especially if, like the story suggests, he doesn't appear to be a complete nutbar, he's just really fucking anxious.)
I hope she enjoyed the scone.
Protagonist needs more therapy.
I'm onto you though...
emil, thank you for your comment as always. I really do appreciate these.
I think you are giving me too much credit. I have many voices, and I write in the voice that comes to me and that fits a particular story -- there are threads of consistency through them that I think a true Steadwellian scholar could find, but you're right that much of it is constructed through mimicry or chameleonization. the truth is that I write things much more carefully than what I see most people say their process is on Substack; it takes me many tries to write even a single sentence. it can take hours to write 1600 words. every choice I make is very conscious, there isn't much flowing from the "literary" or "writer's voice" in the way that most people seem to describe.
I think this turns many people off and why, as you put it, I am kind of "outre" in terms of literature - some can tell it is constructed, so to speak. especially things that are parable-esque and people seem to like this piece because it seems more "real" maybe, even though it did not really happen. only the feelings are real, not the events.
as far as the woman in the car, you are right, she was in shock. or at the very least, unable to communicate due to her condition. and the narrator does NOT truly empathize with this, you're right.
in the end I am trying to do two things: entertain, and have worldly message. each time I write a story, I am going to do those two things differently, with varying success.
if I could step back and analyze what people seem to want from me, and the engagement I get from certain types of stories and voices, I could probably be a lot more consistent and popular. but I am incapable of that. I think I insist upon myself.
Listen to no one, one of the best short story writers of the past two generations, Amy Hempel, will spend up to two weeks. ON ONE SENTENCE.
I think those people are stupid and lack imagination or interest. They believe that just because your style is outre or not currently conventionally the norm, you don't have anything relevant or worth saying, which is patently foolish.
Your aims are good. Let no one dissuade you from them. Charlatans, one and all.
And don't compromise for swine. David Markson was a genius writer and novelist. Sure, he died in his Manhattan apartment and wasn't found for two or three weeks. But you know what, I have his complete works on a bookcase to my right, and his one novel, Wittgenstein's Mistress, is a classic of experimental literature.
In short, fuck 'em and feed em fishheads.