Janis and her Porsche

Janis and her Porsche

This story is my baby, my honey chile and my proudest moment in writing to date.  It’s written in a hybrid form of Lallands and Glaswegian – one of the things I still need to iron out.  People tell me I should write it in plain old English, but I think personally it would lose too much of it’s character.  What do you think?

 

Pearls on the Road

Part One

New Orleans or Bust

 

If Ah said we didnae really hav a clue why we decided tae do it, then that would definitely be true.  Ah know part o it wis boredom.  Masel, Ah felt like ma life was grindin tae a halt an aw ma best years were behind me, at thirty fuckin four, which jist isnae right.  Ami, ma best pal in the whole world, wis the same.  We’d been runnin thegither since we were teenagers, gettin up tae all kinds o crazy shit, but then we’d baith got tangled up wi’ men that screwed us up, an we baith ended up dying inside as housewives, hatin’ our lives, our men an ourselves.  Things happened in our 20’s, we drifted apart a bit, we stopped sharin’ all our pain thegither, our men stood in our way an’ it felt like bein’ buried alive.

Ah  remember wakin’ up yin mornin’ with the radio blarin’ out Janis Joplin’s Piece o My Heart an realisin’ that Ah couldnae do it any mair.  Ah wisnae the person Ah used tae be, Ah wisnae a happy person at a an listenin to Janis singin’ about givin everythin away tae her man made me realise whit the fuck Ah wis up tae.  By that time, Ami wis already livin oan her ane.  Her man had ditched her for something younger an less angry a coupla years before, an when Ah got up outta bed that mornin an packed my bag before that fuckin lazy bastard even opened his eyes, it wis Ami’s doorstep I wis headin for.  Before Ah left I drained the last bottle o whiskey in the house dry so that lazy shite would hav to go an get his ane when he got up.

So Ah turned up oan Ami’s doorstep, reekin o whiskey an cryin my fuckin een out cuz Ah felt mair lost than ever.  She didnae say ocht, she jist let me in an made me a strong cup o coffee.  Then she listened, for bloody ages, while Ah poured out ma hairt like the fuckin drunk Ah wis, wailin’ an gnashing ma teeth an callin’ that bastard every shitey wurd Ah could think o. When she wis sure Ah wis done, she got up an put on aw the loudest, hardest, heaviest music she had in the house, an we jumped aroun like a pair o daft teenagers, heidbangin an screamin tae aw the music we’d loved back when we really were teenagers.  That was such a fuckin’ release, screamin alang tae Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name” an Pantera’s “Fucking Hostile” like we were at the Barra’s again in the mosh pit.

But that wisnae when we decided tae dae it.  That wis only when we baith started again, when we baith decided that we couldnae keep on livin’ stuck in the same shite groove we’d been in for mair as ten year.  Ah moved in wi Ami then, an the prick that Ah’d been livin wi’ tried a coupla times tae change ma mind, but wi twae o us it wis easy tae tell him tae get tae fuck.

No, it wisnae until ma Auntie Maggie passed away that we decided tae dae it.  Ah’d become obsessed wi Janis’s life, an we’d both gone through a big stage o re-reading Anne Rice’s Vampire books cuz we were sick o all the Sparkly Vampire shite that wis bein churned out.  Ye know, the Twilight books an fuckin Sookie Stackhouse (the TV series is fuckin ace though, but only cos it’s much meaner an dirtier than the books!).  Don’t get me fucking started on Anita Blake, fuckin dirty slut that cannae make up her fuckin mind.  Naw, Lestat wis, an is, the only vampire for us.

So when Ah got a dirty great big cheque in Auntie Maggie’s will we decided almost straight away we wanted tae go oan a road trip o the places that Lestat had been in America.  New Orleans wis a place baith o us had wanted tae visit since we were teenagers readin’ Interview With A Vampire.  Then Ah found a picture o Janis’s car an fell in love. Aw man, that car, it’s beautiful.  A Porsche 356 cabriolet that wis decoratit fir her by her roadie.  God, it wis an amazin machine, a sports car, the best o it’s generation an painted up tae be like a spirit o the sixties an Janis.  Mebbe ma brain wis fried, mebbe aw the junk an drink had shorted  ma circuits, but Ah couldnae get that fuckin car out o my brain.  Ah’d fall asleep wi it in ma mind, dream o it an wake up thinkin about it.  Fuck it, no even Leo Di Negro frae Cougar, ma favourite band and ma maist perfect man,  had done that tae me, an this wis jist a fuckin car! The thing that fuckin bothered me the maist wis that it wis sitting at the Rock an Roll hall o Fame dain nothin when Ah jist knew, somehow, that it should be roamin the highways o America an raisin’ hell in her memory.  An the mair Ah thought about it, the mair Ah wanted tae free the car.  Ami thought Ah wis jist bein crazy at first, but Ah forced her tae watch The Rose, an Ah forced her tae read about Janis, an Ah widnae stop talkin about it until yin day Ah think she cracked.

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Comments
  1. […] So, I’m like so busy at work today that I’ve been doing a bit of work on the language of Pearls on the Road.  I got inspired to look at it again after hearing a bit about how the story behind the film The Martian came about, because I would love more than anything to turn Pearls into a film. It’s a road trip with a bright and colourful cast, it’s rather feminist and wild, it’s face paced and has plenty of action that ought to make for a great film.   One step at a time though! It’s actually good that I’ve taken so long to come back to it, because I have fresh eyes and a better sense of the difference between Weegie and the rest of Scots.  I am considering serialising the edited version just to get more eyes on the text though, and self publishing hard copies of the finished thing for anyone who would like one.  The question remains whether or not this is actually a good idea.  It might have worked well for The Martian, but I’ve been told so many times that Pearls is very “niche” I can’t decide if that will inhibit any following it might get.  Anyway, I’m not ready yet to commit to the idea, I’m just starting to iron the text out a little.  If you fancy a wee bit of a taster, though, you can find the opening of the story here. […]

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