Granny’s Seven Husbands
Apr. 13th, 2023 07:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rynlingIn the hills above a small seaside town, an older woman lives in a lovely house with a garden where she grows all sorts of fruits and vegetables. Every day she climbs into her ancient truck and drives her produce down the mountain to the local farmer’s market, which is justifiably popular with tourists. Along the way, she greets her many friends and acquaintances, offering them the tastiest samples of whatever is in season. Everyone asks her about her progress on her autobiography, in which she weaves fantastic tales of her seven husbands.
This story follows a day in the woman’s life in early June. On her way to the farmer’s market, she stops to chat with seven people, and she tells each of them a small story about one of her obviously fictional husbands. On her way back up the mountain, she stops her truck to pick up the roadkill carcass of a goat. She drags it through her garden to a padlocked door at the base of an old cherry tree. The door opens onto slime-covered stairs leading into a dark pit emitting horrible noises. She throws the dead goat into the pit and calls out, “Dinner’s ready, husbands!” The story closes with her reflecting that she’s currently down to six, and that she’ll need to find another one soon.
…this morning I was thinking about what would be my perfect story that I would love to write, and I realized that I want to write Studio Ghibli, but horror. Imagine a beautiful and perfect world, but then put some monsters in it. I mean, that’s essentially what Studio Ghibli does, but I think it would be more fun if there were murder and cannibalism.
Obviously I am not going to repurpose this into smut. If I can’t find a tradpub venue for this story, I guess I’ll put it in a zine. Also editors who reject it can go fuck themselves, because it’s a good story.
This story follows a day in the woman’s life in early June. On her way to the farmer’s market, she stops to chat with seven people, and she tells each of them a small story about one of her obviously fictional husbands. On her way back up the mountain, she stops her truck to pick up the roadkill carcass of a goat. She drags it through her garden to a padlocked door at the base of an old cherry tree. The door opens onto slime-covered stairs leading into a dark pit emitting horrible noises. She throws the dead goat into the pit and calls out, “Dinner’s ready, husbands!” The story closes with her reflecting that she’s currently down to six, and that she’ll need to find another one soon.
…this morning I was thinking about what would be my perfect story that I would love to write, and I realized that I want to write Studio Ghibli, but horror. Imagine a beautiful and perfect world, but then put some monsters in it. I mean, that’s essentially what Studio Ghibli does, but I think it would be more fun if there were murder and cannibalism.
Obviously I am not going to repurpose this into smut. If I can’t find a tradpub venue for this story, I guess I’ll put it in a zine. Also editors who reject it can go fuck themselves, because it’s a good story.
