Once a month, Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do) takes a very brief pause from its commitment to daily public posting, and instead preps a private post shared only with its cherished paid patrons.
This month's private post is a brand new short story, "The Traitor's Tourist Guide To Hell." I wrote the opening paragraphs of this story quite some time ago, added an internal paragraph to it late last year, and a transition paragraph last week. Here's where the story was at that time:
"The ghost of Quisling knocked back a drink. The liquor had no effect on him. Souls damned to spend eternity in Hell felt no buzz from alcohol, no fulfillment from food, no relief from any resource, no matter how much they consumed. Quisling drank anyway, out of habit. He downed another shot before rising to greet the tourists that had entered his dismal office.
" 'Vidkun Quisling at your service,' he purred, his cheery facade unconvincing to anyone who bothered to pay attention. The indifference of his guests rendered the point moot. 'I shall be your tour guide on your visit to Hell.'
"The guests murmured in vague acknowledgement. 'Follow,' the host bid them, and the group obeyed, trailing Quisling's ghost as he descended into the brimstone realm they'd come to see...
"...The question made the ghost pause. He resisted the unfamiliar urge to gaze toward Hell's opposite, toward the eternal realm reserved solely for the kind and the just. 'No,' Quisling replied. 'There is no music in Hell, no music of any kind."' A sadness tinged his voice. A memory of a waltz he'd loved in life almost--almost--crept into his head, but the memory was denied access. Hell's rules are Hell's rules. 'The devil has no music to call his own. Music belongs...elsewhere.'
"With a dismissive shrug, the ghost of Quisling consigned the tourist to the pits. To Quisling's ears, the hapless sinner's screams served as the best available substitute for music. The others in the tour group remained unconcerned. Nothing had happened to them...."
If you're not familiar with the name Vidkun Quisling, he was a real-life historical figure, a Norwegian political swine who collaborated with Hitler, ran Norway as a puppet state for Nazi Germany, delivered Norwegian Jews to the Holocaust, and was executed by a Norwegian firing squad at the end of World War II. Quisling's name became synonymous with "traitor." If there is a Hell, that's where Quisling is now, and where he will remain.
On Saturday night, working from memory, I pulled out my notebook and scribbled the rest of the story in longhand, filling in the missing parts and following the tale through to its conclusion. I transcribed the notes Sunday morning, tweaking as I went, made minor revisions, and finally declared it finished.
I am very pleased with this work. It's not a horror story, but it's as close to a horror story as I'm ever likely to write. "The Traitor's Tourist Guide To Hell" will appear in my short story anthology Guitars Vs. Rayguns!! Short Stories And Other White Lies, a book which seems on track for publication in May or thereabouts. I've wanted to write a short story collection since falling into thrall of Harlan Ellison's Paingod And Other Delusions more than fifty years ago. The publication of Guitars Vs. Rayguns!! Short Stories And Other White Lies will represent another dream come true. Another story in the book ("You'll Be Judged By The Hearts You Broke," which will immediately follow "The Traitor's Tourist Guide To Hell" in the anthology's running order) makes the point that pride is not a sin. I agree with me on that; we should take pride in our work. And I am indeed proud of this new story, and proud of the stories that will accompany it.
Normal daily public posting will resume tomorrow. "The Traitor's Tourist Guide Ton Hell" will be shared with patrons on Sunday, March 1st. I would be quite proud to welcome you into those ranks: Fund me, baby!
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