Nemonymal
Both flats fronted the cul-de-sac sand track with its carpet of fir cones; the track that ended at the big white house around the point with the peacocks that you see on the postcards. Well, you don’t see the peacocks on the postcards but you do hear their lost cries in the night like weirded-out mermaids.
: England and Nowhere
Rather like their creator Des Lewis, the Nemonymous collections are playfully serious. They are horror-veined agents of aghast subtlety. They are also exactly the opposite. In this era of blog-driven micro-fame flame chancers, Nemonymous is a hymn to self-effacement; a twinkling limerick to the diffident. As you'll realise, the simple fact of Des's existence has an effect on one's word use. Light bends differently in the Lewisverse.
Stories are submitted anonymously and published without a by-line. For a writer this is terrifically liberating. I think I’ve probably had a shot at every one of the various Nemonymi, succeeding twice and failing with the rest: but at all times I have felt a solidarity with this project... nay, cause.
In 2007, I was lucky enough to have my story “England and Nowhere” chosen for Zencore! (Nemonymous 7) which in turn was picked-up for The Year’s Best Fantasy & Horror 21.
“England and Nowhere” - Jarman films Christie - was written very quickly and then edited (it's the Nickels way) over some years. In my mind it’s still being written: the roads not taken, the doors left unlocked, the bare feet creaking up the stairs. And as you can see from the picture, the balcony has a railing now.
“Ouch,” James Salmon remarked rather than exclaimed as he swung his forefinger up for close examination. The nail was dirty and bitten, a series of tiny scars – looking almost as if they had been made by fish-hooks – running across the hand between knuckle and wrist, the wrist itself heavily bandaged. A bright globe of blood rose from the finger where the skin was hardest. “That’s probably bad luck or something.”
In a fairytale perhaps. Vera smiled in sympathy and swung her gaze back to the faraway willow but the figure had gone.
: Salmon Widow
Thursday, 11th March 2010: I can now gleefully shout that a Tim Nickels story entitled “Salmon Widow” appeared in the latest Nemocarnation, Cern Zoo. The Zookeeper beckoned and I had to heed the call.
Readers may be interested to know that the Woodruff Hotel is a very real place. Names have been changed, of course - and the very splendid staff bear no resemblance to Sam or Marcel. And the Salmon Widow was real too: I bumped into her as she wandered the grounds with her daily book on a sunny morning in September 2008...
...And she may very well wander still.
May 2010: The Nemodyssey of Des Lewis continues and concludes with NULL IMMORTALIS. And, extraordinarily, I find myself once again embarking with old and new friends as the Megazanthus pulls away for the final time.
Thank you for all you have done for us, Des. Thank you for making us write harder.
