Fishy Riot by Lindsey Black
Cover Artist: AngstyG
Order at Dreamspinner Press / Amazon / B&N
Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Lindsey Black here today. Lindsey is the author of one of my new recommended story’s Fishy Riot. Welcome, Lindsey!
Thanks for having me today!
I thought I would talk briefly about inspiration. Writers will tell you all sorts of things about inspiration, and where it comes from. A lot of writers will admit to finding inspiration in day to day life, or from their acquaintances. For example, Taylor is a Riot Squad officer because my brother in law is in the squad and I think it’s a pretty cool job, not that I would ever tell him that, his ego’s big enough as is. If it’s true that we draw inspiration from day to day life and acquaintances then it should come as absolutely no surprise that Fishy Riot is a tad on the crazier side of things.
I’m a singing teacher (as in I teach singing, not I sing while teaching because that would be weird), and I work with individuals from 8 years of age to 80 on a weekly basis. Nothing can ever prepare you for the weird things people feel inclined to tell you when you’re their teacher. My students wish they had a twitter account of all the weird things that get said, and I’d have to agree it would be the weirdest daily read in history. So I thought I would share ten of my favourite personal gems from the last few weeks.
- Oh, that’s my tyrannosaurus-rex muscle. (Better known as thyro-arytenoid, but ok close enough). It’s in my larynx. I call him Fred, coz he looks like a lil’ Dinosaur, see? (He held up a diagram, complete with arrow and the name Fred. At least he knew what the larynx was.)
- When improvising to Summertime one of my students decided to ad-lib between the lines and came up with this gem, which now all of my students insist on singing as if it’s the real words: Oh you’re daddy’s rich, and your ma is good lookin, like a fish…(lalala)…and take to the sky, like an angel who died. (Yes, I told their mother…)
- Can I just write the letter ‘b’? It takes too long to write the word. (Be…)
- (What does mf mean?) Well, you have to work harder than at mp right, so might fart sounds about right.
- When you say black trousers, do you mean I can wear leggings? (No, trousers.) Jeans? (Trousers). What about a skirt with leggings under? (Trousers…please.) Can they be grey? (Black. Trousers.) But I don’t like black or trousers. (And yet, trousers.)
- Miss, how come you make singing fun? (Err…would you prefer it was boring?) Nah, then I would quit. (So…) I was just wonderin, geez! Carry on! Can you do something stupid again, it’s awesome when you look stupid!
- Student 1: How come you don’t have a stick like the band dude?
Student 2: Don’t give her ideas! She’s clumsy as. It would just fly across the room and hit someone in the eye and you know she sucks at first aid, and I’m not gettin’ you a band-aid. (I confess to breaking the CPR dummy at three separate first aid classes. Student number 2 has a point.)
- So, this song, the Mermaid’s Lament. It’s written by a guy, right? But it says he dedicated it to his wife, the mermaid. I’m thinkin’ she’s not really a mermaid, because I don’t think he’s delusional, right? So it’s a metaphorical mermaid? Whatever that means. But his wife… Is she dead? No, wait…is he dead? Is he dying, was he dying when he wrote it? How did he die? Why would he do that? Oh my God, has he no heart? What’s she gonna think every time she hears this song now? (Uh…guys…pretty sure he’s not dead…). Well, I guess not many people are gonna rock up at her house and sing it anyway, that would be way too much excursion paperwork. (They share my hatred of risk assessment, apparently).
- What the hell do you think you’re wearing? (Um…clothes? What?) That is hideous. Never wear it again, you’ll make us look bad. (Um…) Wear your Nike’s next time, at least those are cool. Man, we have to help you with everything. ( Those were ten year olds. Savages!)
- (I had a message on my phone, it went like this…) MISS! You’re gonna be so proud of me! I remembered to get on the bus to come to choir. That’s right, I’m here on the back seat, the air con is on and I’m sitting peachy and I am gonna be at rehearsal. Hell, I’m gonna be early! Are we going to do that song I like today? You know, the one you haven’t picked a soloist for? I’d really like that solo, I think I’ve asked like a million times noooooow…OMG I missed my stop! Miss! I missed it! What should I do? Ahhh! Sir, Mr bus driver Sir! Yeah, you, can you turn the bus around? I needed to get off back there? No? Why not? How far? Yeah I could get off at the next one. No, there’s no one to pick me up there, what do you mean it’s another ten k’s away? I can’t walk that far, I’ll be late for choir! Oh my god! This is a disaster! Miss! Miss, I missed my stop and the bus driver can’t turn around, I don’t know why I think he’s just a sucky driver or something, and if I get off at the next stop I’m going to have to walk like a million k’s to get to school and choir will be over by then! Oh wait, hey the next after the next stop is my grandma’s…I’m gonna go eat cake. I deserve cake, because this whole thing has been a disaster! I’ll see ya next week, okay? Bye!
It should come as absolutely no surprise that the characters in Fishy Riot are crazy. They probably seem over the top, a tad mentally deranged even, but they’re actually mild compared to reality. I hope you enjoy their shenanigans. Happy reading!
P.S If you’re reading on the bus, please don’t miss your stop. And if you do happen to miss your stop, please don’t call me.
Release date for Fishy Riot: April 24th
About Fishy Riots
Most people think riot squad officer Taylor Jameson is an asshole. Little do they know his apparent indifference stems from having a meddlesome family always butting into his business. And little does Taylor know he’s about to stumble into a situation that’ll make indifference impossible.
When everything goes horribly wrong at a political rally on a harbour ferry, Taylor encounters Sietta Salisbury. The son of a wealthy politician, Sietta is a revered—but presumed dead—musician, and an enigma who is so strange, Taylor is compelled to look into his background. What he discovers draws him into a bizarre mess of prisoners, politics, and attempted murder that makes him realise what he’s been missing.
Falling in love isn’t hard. Trying to convince someone else you’re worth loving despite your crazy family and the people trying to kill you? That’s a whole other can of worms.
About Lindsey Black:
Lindsey Black lives in Darwin, Australia, where the weather report permanently reads ‘humidity at 100%, only going to get worse’ for ten months of the year and ‘monsoon at 4:00 p.m. for exactly fifteen minutes’ for the remaining two. Between teaching and studying full-time, she escapes this oppressive environment to bushwalk for weeks on end wherever the mobile phone reception has zero bars for as long as possible and the weather report reads something along the lines of ‘blizzard likely.’ She enjoys martial arts, music, and mayhem, which explains the untidy state of her home where she attempts to write while splitting her minimal amounts of spare time between her incredulous husband, lazy Chinchilla cat, and crazed Siberian husky. If you expect her to sit and have a chat, it’s best to have a matcha green tea latte with almond milk on hand and your hiking boots within reach. Oh, and be sure to bring a guitar for impromptu jam sessions.