
One reader has said of Scrawling, "This story is witty and sharp, but also satirical; satire is something
Jonathan does particularly well. I guarantee this third outing with
Neville will amuse, entertain and charm you, and like me, you’ll be
fidgeting in anticipation of his next book."
Enjoy!
Neville waited expectantly for the class to begin. He watched as the
Teacher Fish opened its mouth. He listened carefully as the Teacher Fish
uttered two words:
“Swim away!”
Immediately, the rest of the
class echoed the cry.
“Swim away,” they all
screamed.
Neville looked around,
trying to figure out what had caused such panic to descend on the previously
well-ordered class. At first, he couldn’t see anything. Then he realised there seemed to be some sort of dark shadow approaching from directly behind them.
“What is it?” he cried.
None of the other fish were
interested in taking the time to tell him. With what seemed like effortless
twitching of their fins and tails, they quickly vanished, leaving Neville all
alone at the bottom of the sea.
Not quite all alone. There
was still the matter of the shadow, which was rapidly gaining in both size and
darkness.
Neville tried to copy the
other fish and twitch his fins and tail, or at least his nearest equivalent,
but it didn’t do him any good. There was no way he could swim away so quickly.
With the speed the shadow was approaching, he had no chance of getting out of
the way in time.
By now, it was no longer
just a shadow. A more precise shape was defining itself. Like the fish in the
Teacher Fish’s school, this creature was also made entirely out of words, but
the words weren’t very nice. And the shape of this creature was definitely not
very nice, either.
It was huge: easily four
times as big as Neville. It had a long, sleek body, narrowing down towards the
far end, before widening out into a powerful tail. Atop its back was a large
triangular fin, and at its front end, a broad jaw opened up, full of
razor-sharp teeth.
Even from a distance,
Neville had no doubt what this creature was: the most fearsome predator that
lurked beneath the sea. The
one beast most feared by all who entered the water. And it was
getting closer and closer.
Neville did his best. He
paddled with his arms, and kicked with his legs, but there was no way he could
outswim this monster. He was the outsider, caught in the domain of the beast.
Escaping from its grasp did not seem possible.
The brute was almost upon
Neville. Its massive jaws gaped ever wider, and even though there was very
little light this far down in the sea of words, still the teeth inside
glistened and gleamed.
Neville was still paddling
and kicking for all he was worth, trying in vain to outswim the beast. At any
second, he expected to feel those teeth ripping into him.
But the monster didn’t bite.
Instead, from out of its gaping mouth, words flew out.
“Call that swimming? You
couldn’t win a dog-paddle race in a field of cats.”
Neville stopped, momentarily
relieved. Could it be that this creature didn’t want to eat him, after all?
Then the words hit him. A
couple struck him in the arms, and a couple struck him in the legs, but most of
them slammed straight into his midriff.
“Owww,” Neville wailed.
Where they had connected, the words stung and burnt. It was like being hit with
steaming-hot acid.
“Oh dear, a bit dainty are
we?” More words flew at Neville from the mouth of the creature. More burning
pain exploded across Neville’s body where they hit.
“Ouch, that really hurts,”
Neville cried. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t know?” said the
monster, shaking its head. “You’ve got less spine than a jellyfish and fewer
brains than a sea sponge.”
The words sped towards
Neville like deadly torpedoes. Luckily, this time he was half ready, and he
managed to dodge most of them, though a couple just grazed his chest. He rubbed
at the angry red marks, doing his best to relieve that burning feeling.
“Your words are really
hurting me,” he said.
The monster laughed. “Of
course my words are hurting you. Words are the deadliest weapons there are. If
you really want to hurt somebody, the best thing you can use against them is
words.”
Neville was ducking and
weaving, trying to avoid the words as they rocketed towards him. He found that
the first few, the ones projected while the creature was laughing, hurt even
more than the others.
“Why do you want to do
that?” said Neville, after the last of the words had hurtled past.
“Why would I want to do
what?” sneered the creature.
“Hurt other people with
words.” Neville prepared himself to take evasive action.
The creature laughed again.
“Because I can. Because it’s fun. But mostly, because idiots like you are
constantly asking for it. If you say something stupid, I’m going to be gunning
for you. And as far as I can tell, that means every time you open your mouth.”
“Do you really think
everything I say is stupid?” said Neville, as his body contorted in three
directions at once in an attempt to avoid the rapid-fire words.
“Without a doubt,” the giant
fish scoffed. “You’re as thick as an overfed sperm whale. You’re as dumb as a
mouthless toadfish. You’re as—”
“Hang on a minute,” Neville
cried, trying to gain some relief from the seemingly endless barrage of
stinging insults. “I think I know what your game is. You’re softening me up
before you try and eat me.”
“Oh, that takes the cake,”
the monster chortled. “You think I want to eat you. That’s the stupidest thing
you’ve said so far, and you’ve already said a whole bunch of really stupid
stuff.”
“You don’t want to eat me?”
“Why would I want to eat
you? I’m having far too much fun with you just the way you are.”
“But I thought creatures
like you were always looking to eat other creatures. Isn’t that what you do?”
“Creatures like me? What
sort of creature am I, according to your totally inadequate mind?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
said Neville, now starting to feel quite exhausted from matching wits with this
rather unpleasant creature, as well as continual pain from the bombardment of
words he had long since given up trying to dodge. “You’re a shark, aren’t you?”
“That’s the best one yet,” roared
the monster, bursting into more burning torrents of laughter. “You think I’m a
shark.”
“You look like a shark,”
said Neville.
“You really think I’m a
shark?”
“Well, if you’re not a
shark, what are you?”
“I’m certainly not a shark,”
said the creature. “Though I suppose a dimwit like you might think I resemble
one. But I’m something much, much nastier. Something that can do a lot more
damage. Something you definitely want to stay well away from. I’m a Snark.”
Neville recoiled in shock.
It all made sense. He could see why those words caused so much pain when they
struck him. He understood why the other fish had fled as soon as they saw this
monster approaching. A Snark was definitely one of the nastiest beasts you
would ever want to meet, especially down at the bottom of a sea of words.
Fortunately, Neville had a
good idea how to handle a Snark. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good to try to
stand firm and bear the pain of the words hurled in his direction. There was a
far more effective way of dealing with creatures like this.
Neville turned and began
walking away.
“Can’t take the pressure,”
the Snark sniggered. “You’ve got as much guts as a filleted codfish.”
The words pounded into
Neville’s back, but they didn’t seem to hurt anywhere near as much as when they
had hit him in the front.
The Snark tried again. “Too
scared to face the music. If a marching band came past, you’d probably faint
from shock.”
The words pinged off
Neville’s back with all the impact of table tennis balls.
Still, the Snark wouldn’t
let it go. “I could paint a picture of you, and I’d only need one colour,” it
cried. “Yellow.”
This time, Neville hardly
felt anything. The Snark’s words were losing their impact completely.
“At least this way I get to
see your best side,” the Snark called after Neville, somewhat pathetically.
Then there was the swish of a fin and a whooshing sound. When Neville finally
turned around, he could barely see the shadow of the beast disappearing into
the distance.
Want to check out Scrawling for yourself? Just click here to go to its Amazon page.
Blurb:
Sequel number two for the Goodreads Choice semi-finalist Doodling.
Neville Lansdowne drowned in a sea of words.
Of course, he didn't really drown. You can't actually drown in a sea of words. But you can sink a long way down into its depths, and that's exactly what happened to Neville.
Deep down in an undersea world constructed entirely out of words, Neville meets some peculiar new companion and soon finds himself in the middle of another strange and wholly unexpected adventure.
For more stories that stand out from the crowd, check out these other books by Jonathan Gould:
Neville Lansdowne drowned in a sea of words.
Of course, he didn't really drown. You can't actually drown in a sea of words. But you can sink a long way down into its depths, and that's exactly what happened to Neville.
Deep down in an undersea world constructed entirely out of words, Neville meets some peculiar new companion and soon finds himself in the middle of another strange and wholly unexpected adventure.
For more stories that stand out from the crowd, check out these other books by Jonathan Gould:
Doodling: More strange and unexpected adventures for Neville Lansdowne.
Scribbling: Even more strange and unexpected adventures for Neville Lansdowne.
Magnus Opum: An epic fantasy that's slightly skewed - Tolkien with a twist.
Flidderbugs: A political satire, a fable, or maybe just a funny little story about a bunch of bugs with some very peculiar obsessions.Scribbling: Even more strange and unexpected adventures for Neville Lansdowne.
Magnus Opum: An epic fantasy that's slightly skewed - Tolkien with a twist.
About the Author:

He likes to refer
to his stories as dag-lit because they don't easily fit into recognisable
genres (dag is Australian slang
for a person who
is unfashionable and doesn't follow the crowd - but in an amusing and fun way).
You might think of them as comic fantasies, or modern fairytales for the young
and the young-at-heart.
Over the years,
his writing has been compared to Douglas Adams, Monty Python, A.A. Milne, Lewis
Carroll, the Goons, Dr Seuss, Terry Pratchett, and even Enid Blyton (in a good
way).
Thanks A.B. for having me here today.
ReplyDeleteIt's my pleasure Jonathan. Thanks for sharing your excerpt with us. :)
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