Liars' League

HELLO HALLOWEEN! Spooky stories read live at Bell, Book & Candle on Tuesday 8th October

Is that autumn in the air, or the whiff of a snuffed candle?
But we're sure we shut the window ... 

 

Perhaps it's a hint of sulphur from the hellishly good haul of scary stories chosen for our harrowing pre-Halloween event BELL, BOOK & CANDLE on Tuesday 8th October? Yeah. That's probably it. 

 

This spooky season we've selected tales of poison-books & creepy crosswords, bodies in the attic, onanistic alchemists, ghost cats (& dogs, & birds) & wives who just won't stay dead. Curious? Check out the stories & authors below: £5 tickets are now available here - don't let the bell toll before you snap yours up!  

 

WINNING STORIES for BELL, BOOK & CANDLE

 

"Bag of Bones" by Angelita Lapuz Bradney NEW AUTHOR - read by Margaret Ashley

 

"Two Down" by Hannah Noyce NEW AUTHOR - read by Kim Scopes

 

"Nipped" by Joshua James Jordan - read by David Mildon 

 

"This Big Future" by Elizabeth Stott - read by Clive Greenwood

 

"Family Recipes" by Lisa Farrell - read by Gloria Sanders

 

"Little Man" by Rhys Timson - read by Tony Bell

 

... & if you can't wait till the show, the five excellent, brand-new stories from our September WOMEN & GIRLS special are now online: just click to read the stories, watch the videos or listen to the podcast.

 

 

BELL, BOOK & CANDLE 

Scary stories for Halloween 

is on TUESDAY 8th OCTOBER

Tickets £5: 6.30pm doors, 7.30pm show

Downstairs at The Phoenix

37 Cavendish Square, London W1G 0PP 

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Liars' League

www.liarsleague.com

Writers write. Actors read. Audience listens. Everybody wins.

 

 

Please click "continue reading" to see author & actor bios for this month's show

Talons & Teeth by Lizzie Muncey

Read by the author (57 minutes into podcast, here)

I live just over the road from them; directly opposite. If I wanted to, which of course I don’t, I could see right into their lounge from my bedroom window. I’d have to stand on a chair and climb on my chest of drawers to do it, but it would be possible.

The old one is a bit wild nowadays, if I can put it like that. She’s developed a strange, intense look about her. And a mad laugh-come-cackle. With the middle one it’s more of a general crumbling. An overall dishevelment. She used to be an attractive young woman, but now it’s like she resists her beauty. And the youngest one too, having been such a quiet, biddable child, has loosened. Now she walks around barefoot and I can tell, even from this distance, often neglects to put on a bra.

Tiny Furies by E. Ce Miller

Read by Martine Richards (1h 15min into podcast, here)

It all started with the bento box. Sort of.

Bree's mother—the one still bragging about the farmhouse sink she'd installed in the kitchen of her mid-century Craftsman cottage, even though most of us had already stopped by at some point to compliment it—saw some account on Pinterest, and the next thing we knew, the entire first grade came tumbling home one afternoon demanding sunflower butter on sprouted wheat bread cut into hearts and stars. They wanted a rainbow of bell peppers in one compartment and something called tempeh in another. Their eyes beseeched us as they spoke reverently of a spoonful of plant-based yogurt dusted with Ceylon cinnamon for dessert.

Karma by Katie Lewis

Read by Alexandra Kenna (4min 40sec into podcast, here)

Anisha receives her first task at 2 p.m.

>Steal a hat from the souvenir stall at the entrance to the Cardiff Coffee Convention. You have 25 minutes.

Her heart thumps; her palms are sweaty. She can’t do this – she’s never even stolen a pen before! But the first message she got on the burner phone was clear: complete three tasks by the specified deadlines, or she will die and so will Nidra. Every Karma viewer knows of participants whose loved ones paid the price for failure or snitching. Anisha doesn’t understand how she ended up in Karma’s sights but she loves her little sister too much to risk it.

All the Times I Thought I was Pregnant by JM Cyrus

Read by Aren Devlin (35 minutes into podcast, here)

15 September 2017. I was 12. Most of my friends at school, some of my frenemies too, had started their period over the summer. The holidays hadn't just granted new tans and stories of holiday boyfriends. But it hadn’t blessed me.

One thing led to another, insecurities building on each other, and before long I was convinced I hadn’t started yet because I was to be the next virgin mother.

I told my mother about this once. Okay, I told her about it several times. All right, many times. When she got bored with me I checked the internet.

Turned out I wasn't pregnant.

 

A Doll's Head in Hackney by Kathryn Sharpe

Read by Miranda Harrison (19 minutes into podcast, here)

Shana opens the window that overlooks Clapton Way, the one with mould at the seal that never disappears, and decisively throws the doll’s head into the street. Moments before she’d snapped it clean from the body. She looks at her baby in the corner of the kitchen and living area who is still screaming. Still eight months. Still difficult. The smell of weed from the corridor laps at the door and she breathes in, half hoping for a high that won’t come.