Liars' League

Latest event: WOMEN & GIRLS, Tuesday 10th August at The Phoenix

"Who Run the World?" - Artwork by Nour Tohme 

 

Our 5th annual celebration of stories about and by Women & Girls was performed to a packed crowd on Tuesday 10th August at The Phoenix, with six slices of fantastic new fiction read aloud LIVE by our marvellous Liars' League actresses. It featured Mormons, murder, mediums, malicious moths, medieval maladies, Shakespeare & more - and the stories, videos and podcast are available to read, watch & listen to right now! 

WINNING STORIES for WOMEN & GIRLS

Plague of Exes, 1349 by Lauren Van Schaik, read by Gloria Sanders
Goddess Interrupted by Lyndsey Croal, read by Lois Tucker
How a Body likes her Breakfast by Cathy Browne, read by Kim Scopes
Oh Little Beast by Molly Skinner, read by Annalie Wilson
Vengeance by Mina Ma, read by Josie Charles
Lear in LA by Sakki Selznick, read by Sophie Cartman

Inspired to write for us?

NEXT DEADLINE: 11.59pm on Sunday 5th September for MAGIC & MAYHEM (event on Tuesday 12th October):

This Hallowe'en season, enchant (or curse) us with your most soul-searing stories of sorcery, necromancy, blood sacrifice, crazed rituals, inchoate horrors from a realm of unspeakable chaos ... you know the drill. 

The Last Cat on Mars by Quintin Forrest

Read by Alex Woodhall

I don’t suppose anyone will ever read this.

I’m torn between hoping they do, because then the cat, Fripp, and I might yet be saved, and maybe even hailed as returning space heroes. And also hoping they don’t, because what would the astronauts find? Tattered notes, turning to dust in the dry, red winds, and a couple of skeletons sat at the console, one in the chair, one on the keyboard, in however many years’ time. A half empty flask of home-brewed vodka, if we ever get our shit together, literally, to grow potatoes, and something on the wall about how Mars is a bad scene. Old blues tunes on the laptop. Selfies of us on a long-dead phone. Will Fripp and I be rescued before we lose it completely? I fear that ship may have already sailed.

Certain Promises, Certain Threats by Rhys Timson

Read by Oliver Yellop

You will think you are safe, when you see me. You will take in the white robes, the feathery wings and the halo, and you will think your troubles are over. Little will you know that your troubles will have only just begun.

By the time I arrive, you will have been there for a few days, in the lower place. Time has no meaning there, in Limbo, but it will feel like a few days to you. My associates will have visited you by then, made certain promises and certain threats. I will have told them not to touch you, but what I am not there to see, I cannot prevent.

Chaos Reigns by E.P. Henderson

Read by Gloria Sanders

In the Uber back from the final count, Ceri and Jack were speechless with shock and delight. Neither of them had managed a mayoral campaign before – nobody else would have taken a chance on them, honestly – and they’d done it. Their candidate had fucking won!

Jack tugged feverishly at his artisanal haircut. “Oh my God. Wow. This is … Christ!” He turned to Ceri, Manga-eyed. “You know what this means?!”

“Yeah!” yelped Ceri. “CV gold! We nailed it! And also I have to call my mum right now. She’s such a Tory.”

“It means Augaenysse controls everything,” said Jack slowly. “Transport. Education. Infrastructure.”

Ceri stopped, iPhone half-out of her original 90s puffa jacket. Augaenysse was a wicked boss, truly unique, but actually, you know, running London?

The Capture of Whitehall by David McGrath

Read by the author

Boris Johnson woke up in his underpants on the floor of Number Ten. Carrie had gone to her mother’s with the baby. She left a note to say they were done and she’d see him in court. That he was nothing but a selfish toad. His model bus was still in pieces all around him from where he had smashed it in rage the night before. Boris Johnson liked to make buses. He had this thing where he made models of buses. He would get old wooden crates and turn them into buses and paint passengers enjoying themselves on the wonderful bus. And now his bus was broken because he had broken it and what a terrible time over which to preside.

Mary had coffee for him. ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘I dreamt I was dead.’

‘Have some coffee. I’ll get your trousers.’

Frozen by Todd Wells

Read by Sophie Cartman

David took off his gloves and rubbed his hands together, close to the heat of the fire. He looked across the flames at his wife, and wiped his nose. Molly was fishing in the bag for a marshmallow. Her hair flowed out of her lavender knit cap, framing her beautiful face. David waited until he thought she was looking at him, then wiped his nose again, more vigorously this time. They had met ten years ago, an anniversary they were celebrating with this camping trip, and though David now found her more attractive than ever, she still wasn't getting the hint.

David attacked the middle of his face with one last effort. He didn't want to disturb the ambience with verbal instructions, but he was out of options. Then, fate saved him in the form of a snowflake, which landed on the tip of Molly's nose. She smiled at the snowflake's tickle, and rubbed at her nose with the back of her glove, removing both the snowflake and the dried snot that had been the object of David's irritation. He relaxed.