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.

Latest event: ORDER & CHAOS

NEXT EVENT: Tuesday August 10th - WOMEN & GIRLS: Our 5th annual celebration of stories about and by women & girls. N.B. For the avoidance of doubt, we are ONLY seeking submissions from female authors writing female protagonists for this theme. (Our usual male:female submission ratio is about 2:1 so this is our way of helping to redress the imbalance, in case you're curious ...)

 

To reserve tickets for the Women & Girls event, please see below for instructions on how to book and pay. Tickets are £5 per person, Maximum number of people at any one table is 6, but you can request adjacent tables when booking.

 

LATEST EVENT: ORDER & CHAOS (see below)

In the beginning, the earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep. And the spirit of live fiction moved over the face of the waters ... And then the Liars got all their votes in, and a new order was come! It was rich with naked hikers and chaos Empresses and cats on Mars, mighty with evil angels and model buses, and it was GOOD.

 

WINNING STORIES for ORDER & CHAOS

Chaos Reigns by E P Henderson, read by Gloria Sanders

Frozen by Todd Wells new author, read by Sophie Cartman

The Last Cat on Mars by Quintin Forrest, read by Al Woodhall

The Capture of Whitehall by David McGrath, read by the author

Certain Promises, Certain Threats by Rhys Timson, read by Oliver Yellop

 

Billy's Ghost Dug by Emma Grae

Read by Silas Hawkins

Lockdoon’s gettin tae me. Ma dug, Neville, took a turn fur the worst efter tannin a fit-lang tube o Jaffa cakes, and noo ah’m well and truly oan ma tod.

Neville wis the apple o ma eye. He wis a mongrel, who’d black fur dotted wi white patches that made the wee bugger look like he wis always wearin a suit. He wis a sleekit bastart, and treated me like wan big tit efter he left his mammy a few weeks too early. But fur aw his tricks and licks, Neville could dae nae wrang in ma eyes.

‘Alexa,’ ah say, ‘Pretend tae be a dug.’

He is Coming by Callum Jacobs

Read by Claire Louise Amias

He is coming.

The poster had appeared during the night. It had been pasted onto the front door of the town hall, not quite straight, as though it had been done in a hurry. It didn’t say anything else. There was no extraneous information, no address to contact for further details, no indication of who ‘He’ was.

Most people who saw the poster assumed it was referring to Jesus, and that this was Reverend Sweeny’s doing, the latest attempt to fill the dusty pews in the village church on Sunday morning when most people were still snoring in their beds. So most people ignored it.

It was only Miss Hazelwick who thought it might be something else. She thought it might be something else because she’d seen a sign. Just over a week before the poster appeared, Miss Hazelwick had been walking to the post office on her lunch break, to send a parcel to her sister, when she’d seen a fox running backwards.

Guru by Fiona Salter

Read by Paul Clarke

“Have you seen this?”  Canon Stephen is waving the Western Morning News.  “Harry Mount is planning a solstice vigil on Belstone Tor.”

“Remind me,” drawls the Archdeacon “Is this the one off Bake Off? Or the one who was in the Communards?” 

“Neither. This is the one joining with Druids for an EarthSong vigil.”

“The rise of the celebrity priest. I blame myself,” preens the Archdeacon. “I suppose he’ll say it’s ecumenical.”

“If it was with the Methodists, yes, with Druids, not so much.”

Heroes & Fools by Brian Kelly

Read by Jeremiah O'Connor

Never meet your heroes. That’s what they say, innit?

Every Thursday at eight, the entire neighbourhood directing their applause towards our gaff. Bingo wings flapping up and down the terrace. Wooden spoons banging on pots. A few frustrated football fans letting off flares.

Now, I’m not saying she wasn’t sick or nothing. But the woman smokes forty a day. Has done since I was a nipper. Plus, our gaff is only fifty meters from the North Circ. So yeah maybe she had Corona, but all I’m saying is - there were other candidates.

The Dragon, the Knight and the Rabbi by Elizabeth Hopkinson

Read by Stephen Butterton. Inspired by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg's Twitter thread "Fantastic Beasts and Whether to Eat Them."

"I'm not sure about this," said the knight.

The dragon rolled his eyes. They were bloodshot around the edges. It reminded the knight of - well - blood. His blood.

"It's perfectly simple," said the dragon. "You go to the rabbi and you ask him which creatures are kosher and which aren't. I've made a list." He held it up for the knight to see. It was skewered by one claw and slightly singed at the edges.

"I've never been to the Jewish Quarter before." The knight scraped one toe in the ashes at the edge of the fire.

"You came into my Jewish quarter, didn't you?"

Ordinary Men Must Die by GC Perry

Read by Lin Sagovsky

“I am dying.” The Emperor is seated atop a vast throne that shimmers in fitful torchlight. Two fleshy eunuchs, naked except for loincloths, fan him with slow, steady strokes.

“The Emperor’s soul is eternal,” says the Wise Man prostrated before the seated figure, his forehead pressed to the cold marbled floor. “We are told this in the Old Stories. The Emperor shall live forever in the Palace of the Most Honourable Ancestors, to be reunited with your father and his father before him, and all our Emperors right back to the First Emperor Most High.”

Next event: FOOLS & SAGES - Tuesday May 18th at The Phoenix

We've gazed into our crystal ball and are delighted to reveal the six profound and absurd stories to grace our next event, FOOLS & SAGES! So if you like ripped, naked priests, mysterious messages, spirit animals, deceitful advisers, eunuchs, keyworkers, dragons, knights, or indeed rabbis, we have the event for you!

 

The show is on Tuesday May 18th. Doors open at 6.30pm for a 7.30 start, downstairs at The Phoenix pub, 37 Cavendish Square, London W1G 0PP (tube: Oxford Circus). Tickets are strictly limited and £5 in advance

 

(UPDATE 17/5/21: INITIAL ALLOCATION SOLD OUT BUT 10 MORE TICKETS RELEASED!)

 

Please see below for how to reserve your spot. We are SO pleased to be live again and hope to see you there!

 

WINNING STORIES for FOOLS & SAGES

 

The Guru by Fiona Salter, read by Paul Clarke

He is Coming by Callum Jacobs, read by Claire Louise Amias

Billy's Ghost Dug by Emma Grae, read by Silas Hawkins

The Dragon, the Knight and the Rabbi by Elizabeth Hopkinson, read by Stephen Butterton

Ordinary Men Must Die by G. C. Perry, read by Lin Sagovsky

Heroes & Fools by Brian Kelly, read by Jeremiah O'Connor

 

Ticket booking info is underneath the pretty Tarot lady ...

 

The Fool from the Modern Witch Tarot

 

TICKETS & EVENT INFO (the small print stuff)

TL:DR

- Tickets are limited to 50
- and are a low low £5
- but you have to book a table even if it's just you. Singletons book tables for 2.
- please book and pay through Paypal using the orange Donate button above, top right

THE LONG VERSION

Please book a TABLE (for however many are in your group - max 6) rather than individual tickets, as pubs are not allowed to seat people of different "groups" (even if that group is only one person) together. So we strongly suggest you contact your friends if you think they'll be coming, and book a table together. If you're on your own just book a table for 2, but these are limited. 

 

Tickets will be limited to 40 (assuming all tables are full - may be slightly fewer if some tables are not full), and our ticket price remains a furlough-favouring £5.

 

PLEASE NOTE that ALL guests are required to do track & trace at the venue - if you don't have the NHS app you can fill in your details on paper. 

 

How to book: Please use the Donate button on the top right of the LL website page (look up, look right, it's small and orangey-yellow ...) to donate the price of however many tickets you want to us. So a table for 6 would be £30, but a table for 2 with only one guest is £5 because we're not going to punish you for not filling a table. Here's how you do it.

 

- Click the Donate button

- Enter the amount: £5 for 1 ticket, £10 for 2 etc. (you have to type in 5 - 0 - 0 for £5, it's slightly non-intuitive)

- Click Donate. This will take you to your Paypal login (if you don't have Paypal get someone else on your table to pay for tickets :) 

- IMPORTANT: Where it says Add a note please enter your name plus how many you want on your table. E.g. Katy Darby, Table for 4. Track & trace/QR code stuff is done at the venue so we don't need everyone's names, just the booker's.

- Ideally, tick the Share your email address button so we can contact you if there's any problem

- Click Donate Now

- And you're done! 

 

N.B. ALL donated funds (after Paypal fees) support contributing actors & authors: we take nothing. 

 

Agony by Jennifer Rickard

Agony MP3

Read by Harrie Dobby

To the red lady on the St James omnibus –

I sing of men, and of the love
That slipped from my fingers
Velvety pure, ever unsure
I still have your glove.
Please reply as to return address via this column.

- The man with the hat

It is a pointless endeavour for a writer to hide her guilty pleasures from her reader, so instead I shall boldly confess my greatest sin here – I adore the agony columns. Those personal messages which sit on the second page of every great paper in the city of London, where people write tiny love letters, advertisements for missing relatives, requests for money and other cries from the heart – the great majority written in some kind of cipher that is only intelligible to the single soul in the world to whom it is addressed … or to a good detective.

Balancing Act by Tomek Mossakowski

Balancing Act MP3

Read by Helen Belbin

Mysteriousness to 96%. Sexual drive to 87%. Considerateness 93%.

          I step back while the model recalibrates. Its power light is pulsing. Outside the window, the stars are hidden by the fug. It’s the fug that’s got us hidden indoors. That’s our world now: indoors.

          “Debs,” the model says, alert now, “Debs, you must be cold.”

          The voice startles me. Deeper than the last one. It whips a blanket off the chair, the green one, and puts it around my shoulders, clasps it together at my chest. Its other hand goes to my chin. It holds my chin in a little pinch, delicate, commanding. The model’s eyes have gone somewhere between green and brown. It invites me to dream, that colour.

Hometown Debut by Jess Worsdale

Hometown Debut MP3

Read by Fergus Rattigan

Cian is a shiver of denim with a plastic bag of canned good times. Deckchair-striped, it gouges heavy into his fingers so they bulge white at the tips. Occasionally, some acquaintance of his mother cackles by and comments on him breezily before reemerging with the dregs of the Centra wine fridge. Along the street, a family with kids unable for midnight sets off New Year’s fireworks early, and a crack of gold sparks splits the bite-cold evening, leaps over the broody hulk of suburbia.

Rob is late but for once Cian doesn’t mind. Since the summer, he’s coexisted with this bubbling anticipation, the simmer of it fizzing through his skin. A little longer. His mam had slipped him a twenty when she’d heard Kathy’s son was home. ‘God love him,’ she’d said, ‘that lad deserves a good night. What’s it been, five months now?’

Phantom Plane by C. G. Thompson

Phantom Plane MP3

Read by Paul Clarke

He hears something about a mind going south. He and his wife used to drive south, to Florida, every year. They would stay a week, visit a nearby Christmas shop, stroll along the beach. One September he found a baby turtle stranded during low tide. He took it to a lifeguard. It was an endangered species. He hoped he’d given the turtle a new chance at life, that it was as big as a kitchen table now, safe in the ocean.

He’s in an unfamiliar room, where everyone is dressed as if they’re at church. He glances down and sees he’s wearing his brown suit. He feels his head. Wearing his hat indoors would be unforgivable. Someone should have told him. But his head is bare. Was there a hat rack in the hallway?

You Don't Have to Read This, but I Hope You Do by David Guy

You Don't Have to Read This ..

Read by Martine McMenemy

Dear Sir,

I thought it best to contact you by mail, considering the events of this past week. You don't have to read this, of course - I'm sure you are very busy, after all - but I hope that you do. Perhaps it will do you good to hear an explanation of events from a point of view other than your own.

After the events of the dance on Friday night - I'm sure I don't have to explain that in detail - it seems a vital misunderstanding of the importance of our ... tryst (shall we say) ... has begun to blossom in your mind. Yes, I enjoyed myself very much - as I hope did you - but I thought a man in your position would have understood, as seemed clear to me, that this was simply an enjoyable dalliance rather than the precursor of something, indeed of anything, deeper, or more personally committing.

Valentine's Event: TOGETHER & APART, 7pm Sunday 14th February

Our Valentine's Day event showcased a selection of five seductive stories featuring Victorian agony column-addicts, hormonal teen parties, poorly-programmed love robots, hybrid roses and a classic romance with a sting in the tale. Join our Facebook group if you want to experience our next Watch Party live on the day (unless ... gasp! we might be able to do it live by April?!) and see below for all the videos and stories and the podcast.

TOGETHER & APART WINNING STORIES

 

Balancing Act by Tomek Mossakowski *New author* read by Helen Belbin
Phantom Plane by C. G. Thompson *New author* read by Paul Clarke

Agony by Jennifer Rickard, read by Harriet Dobby
Hometown Debut by Jess Worsdale, read by Fergus Rattigan
You Don't Have to Read This, But I Hope You Do by David Guy, read by Martine McMenemy

 

This will be our fourth online Lockdown Literature show - thanks for joining!

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?! (How to give tips & donations)

Usually we'd use ticket sale cash to buy our authors & actors food, booze and/or books. As we can't do that right now, if you want to donate some £/$ to our talented contributors who have dedicated their time, skill and effort to entertain you, please do so via Paypal to liarsleague@yahoo.co.uk ... or you can use the yellowy-orange PayPal Donate button above on the right -->

All money will be split equally between all participants: if you'd like your cash to go to a particular author, actor or story, just add a note to your donation with their name: named "tips" will be passed on to those contributors. LL won't be taking anything .