Shane Dobbie
Bio
If writing is a performance art then I’m tap dancing in wellies.
Stories (32/0)
The Lady in the Window
I first noticed her in a store window. I was out picking up some bits of food shopping and, as always, my eye was constantly drawn to the colourful shop fronts around me. I happened a glance across the road at a ladies fashion store; not that I need such things what with being an established bachelor, but it was a colourful display and quite pleasing. At first, I assumed her to be a mannequin; a part of the window dressing, but as my eye lingered I realised she didn’t seem to fit. She was…how best to describe this to you: out of focus. Yes, like a camera image that is out of focus. I could make out her shape; enough so that I immediately recognised her as feminine; but abstract, like a surrealist painting where one recognises images but finds it hard to explain how.
By Shane Dobbieabout a month ago in Fiction
My Life In Movies
Is it 1974 already? Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself. Gonna cheat my favourite this year because, if I’m honest, my favourite is Blazing Saddles (Mel Brooks), but that’s the number one box-office movie of the year so picking that would be boring and I’d rather talk about a lesser seen movie. Officially though: Blazing Saddles.
By Shane Dobbie2 months ago in Geeks
My Life In Movies
Movies have always been my first love. As much as I enjoy writing fiction these days, I came to that through a lifetime of enjoying movies; studying movies; writing about movies; getting angry at strangers on the internet about movies…you get the idea. It was attempts to write screenplays that got me here, on Vocal, sharing short fiction, so I thought I might mix up the two loves and try a series of film based articles. Those of you who have read my fiction will no doubt see a clear line connecting the two things.
By Shane Dobbie2 months ago in Geeks
West Falls
Anderson Barr's arse hurt. Travelling the long road to nowhere, as romantic as it sounds, had been made up of mostly tedious bus trips. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if a numb arse was a part of the journey into self-discovery popular fiction had promised him. He was also hungry and thirsty, which wasn't helping his mood.
By Shane Dobbie2 months ago in Fiction
Praying on the weak
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It showed my lonely chambers, in the back of a cold church. It showed Alby Duncan and his daughter, Lucy, standing behind me. Alby had been a member of my flock so long that I remember Lucy being born. 19 years ago that was. It was always a delight to see them. Lucy smiled at me in the mirror. “Hello, Father Morris,” she says.
By Shane Dobbie2 months ago in Fiction
