Old Stories: Manticores

I should be writing a new story this weekend, but I can’t make the structure work. So instead I thought I would write about a story that has already been a) written and b) published. That seems much more relaxing, don’t you think?

I would have spoken about this story more at the time if I had had this blog, or really any social media. Now I have both, and a few years have passed, so finally, Manticores has its moment. This week, on the blog: Secrets! Intrigue! Alternative Titles!

I also might go on and cover more old stories too, if people are interested. And if this structure continues to outfox me.

The first story of mine to be published was Unit Six: Intro to Manticores, which appeared in Apparition Literary Magazine in July 2023.

This was the second short story I wrote that year — and the first one to be any good at all. The first one is sitting on my hard drive and going nowhere. I was planning to just write ghost stories, for some reason, but then manticores came into my head, and they seemed so fabulously medieval.

My plot notes tend to match the final product pretty closely, and for this story my planning document was divided into four chronological sections: ‘welcome’, ‘anatomy lesson’, ‘his memories’ and ‘realisation’. Within each of those four is a list of rough lines I wanted to include, forming a sort of skeleton of the final product. That method is one I have stuck to for most of my later stories — if I'm struggling I tend to venture out to chalkboard or to paper, but if things are going well then I’ll have sections mapped out with key lines and plot points under each.

My planning document also has a list of potential titles, most of which are terrible. I don’t mind ‘Five Things I Know About Manticores (And One I Don’t)’ but it needlessly shouts ‘theres’s a twist! this story has a twist!’ and doesn’t match the tone either.

The big lost idea from this one — lost because it was truly baffling — was that originally all the manticores had the face of Elvis. That never made it to any draft for obvious reasons, but there’s still fossil references to it in the references to pomade and manticore quiffs. Sometimes you need an idea to build a bridge to your real idea. Elvis didn't fit the world, the tone, or really anything, but it made me think about manticores and shared faces and that was enough to do the rest.

I was really pleased to work with the App Lit team on this one, and it’s a magazine that is much missed today. They also gave me the option of recording my own audio, which was very exciting for ten minutes and then utterly terrifying for about a week. Given the monologue structure, I had to commit to the ‘plummy retired general’ persona for the whole recording, which is a voice some way out of my comfort zone.

I was delighted when this story was picked up, and I hope to have some more news to share about it at some point in the future. For now though…I need to go and wrestle this structure onto paper.