Saturday, October 23, 2010

Me and You and Kerrie Ann

We sailed out on that summer’s day
Just me you and Kerrie Ann,
Out to the islands in the bay
To where we knew the dolphins ran.

And as the wind blew from the west
For me and you and Kerrie Ann,
It gave each wave a silver crest
And billowed sails with natures fan.

We stopped and anchored out at sea
Did me and you and Kerrie Ann,
The day was peaceful as could be
Most tranquil backdrop for our plan.

But as we watched the dolphins play
For me and you and Kerrie Ann,
We never saw the sky turn grey
Or noticed how those currents ran.

You never made the slightest sound
Just slipped from me and Kerrie Ann,
And now you never will be found
Out in the bay where dolphins ran.

Now every summer’s day I sit
Down by the quay with Kerrie Ann,
Though all her timbers rot and pit
And all her sails are torn and wan.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The faerie dance

Now the coppice still as evening
Cloaked in shadows sombre weaves,
Slowly wakes as autumn breezes
Stir the slumber of the leaves.

As the midnight hour approaches
Now the harvest moon is high,
Comes the strain of faerie music
Softer than a wood nymph's sigh.

There at the appointed moment
Gold and silver wings appear,
Thus the faerie dancers promise
The fertile earth another year.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Heaven Help Us.........Chapter Two (Part 2)

            “It’s happened again”, said the Devil, who was sitting behind an ornate, leather topped desk in what could loosely be described as his ‘office’. 
            The fact that it actually was an office gave it an air of  corporate authenticity. The dark wood panelling on the walls and executive meeting area in the corner also helped.
            A squeaky voice came over his desk intercom. “What’s happened again?”
            “The thing. You know...with the power,” said the Devil.
            The voice squeaked, “You shittin’ me?”
“No, Ralph.  I shit you not. I could boil you, skin you, crush you, turn you inside out, make you wear fish-net stockings for eternity. I could even, at a pinch, make you implode, bit by bit, starting with your testicles. But right at this moment, shitting you isn’t on my list of ‘things to do today’.”
            “That’s very nice to know,” said Ralph.
            The Devil smiled. “I’m a nice-to-know kinda guy.”
            Ralph sighed. “So I keep telling people. But lately, I dunno. I get the feeling you just don’t seem to be getting the respect you used to get.  I think maybe we need some new PR or something. So what’s happened now?”
            “Promise you won’t laugh?” said the Devil, with a hint of menace in his voice.
            “I promise,” promised Ralph.
            “I had a nightmare,” said the Devil.
            A strange, stifled, strangled sort of sound came through the intercom. The Devil tapped it a few times and silently cursed technology. The strangled sound developed into a noise resembling a snigger. 
            “Was that a laugh?” accused the Devil. “ I thought I heard a laugh.”
            “No, Boss...honest,” cried Ralph, who was by now squeezing his testicles in the hope that the pain would divert the crippling giggles which were about to overcome him.            
            “Ralph, are you squeezing your nuts again?” said the Devil, slowly.
            “Can I help it if I like a little pain now and then, boss?” gasped Ralph, who by now had the laughter thing well under control. Although the pain would take a little more time.
            “Very admirable,” said the Devil.  “Now, about my nightmare”.
            “Are we gonna do the patient/shrink thing again?” asked Ralph.
            The Devil’s voice racked up a notch in satanic intensity. “Well…there’s always the torturer/screaming lump of bleeding flesh thing. We could do that instead, hmmm? Get your ass in here now!
            “Be right in,” said Ralph, and the intercom clicked, buzzed, coughed and was silent.
            ‘Well,’ thought the Devil, ‘I can’t say the old bugger didn’t warn me. He said one day it would happen and now it bloody well has. Oh, bollocks!’
            Although there was a door in the wall opposite the Devil’s desk, Ralph didn’t use it to enter.  A follower of the more theatrical style of appearance, he made his entrance with a puff of smoke. 
            Unfortunately he also brought with him the odour of bad eggs.
            The smoke took longer than usual to disappear, the result of which was a loud coughing fit from Ralph, followed by the sharp realisation that something very nasty might have escaped from his bowels.
            “You always do that!” complained the Devil, wafting the smoke away from his face. “Why can’t you just use the door like everyone else?”
            Suddenly he sniffed the air. “ Have you farted?”
            Ralph blushed and shrugged apologetically.  “It’s an incurable medical condition. Runs in the family. I’ve tried everything. Sorry.”
Standing before the Devil was, quite possibly, the most attentive and hard-working PA he’d ever had. He was also the smallest, thinnest, smelliest and, without doubt the ugliest. The Devil waved his right hand lazily in the air and the last of the smoke vanished.
            “Aaah, the old power’s not completely gone then,” said Ralph, trying to look hopeful.
            Not completely gone?” shouted the Devil and his face took on a truly terrifying look.  His right eyebrow raised and a small drool of spit escaped from the right hand corner of his mouth. “I’m the bloody Devil, you imbecile!  I can’t be without power. It’s not right.  Not natural.”
            Ralph was by now finding it impossible to restrain his bladder from pulling the plug on its contents. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d pissed himself.
            The Devil saw the dark stain appearing on the trounsers around Ralph’s groin.
“Now look what you’ve made me do!” he said, exasperated.
            “Made you do?” said an embarrassed Ralph. “You’re not the one who’s doing it!  Would you please,” he said, gesturing to the stain. “ This is very uncomfortable.”
            The Devil waved his hand again and the stain plus accompanying wetness and puddle all disappeared.
            “Thank you,” said Ralph.
            “Don’t mention it,” said the Devil.  “Now, let’s get down to business. About this nightmare.”
            “Tell me,” said Ralph, stroking the little box beard around his mouth. “ Did you have a happy childhood?”
            “Look...if I need analysis I’ll bring Sigmund in,” said the Devil, lighting a very large cigar and creating some smoke of his own. 
            “Right…right,” said Ralph, frowning and trying to look concerned, caring and fascinated, all at once.  He succeeded in looking worried and in pain.
            “Don’t squeeze your nuts so hard next time,” said the Devil.
            “I’m down to three squeezes a day,” said Ralph, jumping up and sitting on the edge of the Devil’s desk and crossing his legs. “Now…about this nightmare. I thought nightmares were things YOU gave to others.  Does that mean you gave it to yourself?”
            “No, it means that if you don’t shut up and listen, you’ll be up to 20 squeezes a day. Ok?”
            Ralph’s testicles involuntarily retracted.  “Ok,” he said, beginning to sweat.
            The Devil took a deep breath, sat back in his seat and closed his eyes.  “It all started with a feeling of shrinking.”
            “What, like shoving your dick in ice?” said Ralph.
            “Now why would I shove my dick in ice?” said the Devil.
            “Well hell, YOU should know.  I thought you wrote the book on sexual perversions,” said Ralph.
            “Patience Lucy…patience..” muttered the Devil to himself. 
            “Who’s Lucy?” asked Ralph
            “Lucy is me,” said the Devil,shrugging, almost apologetically. “ I’m Lucy.  You know.  Lucifer. It’s my real name. The one I use for official functions and meetings of national and international importance. Lucretia calls me Lucy, for short.”
            “What, that Borgia woman?”
            “Don’t talk about her like that. It’s her pet name for me.  And mine for her, come to think of it.”  The Devil paused and looked at the ceiling. “He calls me it, too!”
            “He who?” asked Ralph, and then the penny dropped. “Oh....Him!”
            The Devil flapped his right hand leisurely in the air. “Anyway, aren’t we getting just a bit off the subject?” he said.
            Ralph shrugged. “Yeah, okay. So…you were at the shrinking bit.”
            “Well, it was more like diminishing. And all my strength was draining away. It was a very uncomfortable feeling.”
            “Mmmmm...I’m sure,” said Ralph.  “Go on…”
            “Then there was the fire and brimstone,” said the Devil.
            “Well…it’s Hell and you’re the Devil.  Fire and brimstone usually go with the territory if I’m not mistaken.”
            “Oh, you’re not,” said the Devil, shivering slightly. “Only the fire was going out and the brimstone was more like an aromatic oil. You know, the one for headaches and pre-menstrual tension.”
            Ralph frowned. “Shrinkage…loss of heat…cross-gender nasal confusion.  Hmmmm.”
            “Exactly,” said the Devil, opening his eyes.  “ But that’s not the worst of it…”
            “I figured there was more,” said Ralph, stroking his beard again.            
            “You figured right,” said the Devil, jerking his right thumb upwards. “ Then He turned up!”
             “He who?” said Ralph.
            “He Him!” said the Devil, looking upwards.
            There was a pause during which Ralph was frantically trying to remember who lived upstairs in Hell, when the penny dropped. “Oh….Him again!” he said slowly, looking upwards.
            “In person,” said the Devil, reaching out and grabbing a large whisky from thin air and taking an long gulp.
 “Know what He said to me?” said the Devil, sucking on his cigar and blowing D-shapes with the smoke. “ He just walked up to me, cool as you like, and said, ‘Well, well…it’s a small world.’  There’s me shrinking and He says ‘it’s a small world’.  I mean, what kinda thing is that to say.”
            “Very inconsiderate,” said Ralph, shaking his head and thinking maybe, if this session with the Boss went well, he’d be nut-pain-free for at least a month!
            “Damned hurtful,” said the Devil.
            Ralph searched around inside his pocket and brought out a small cherrywood pipe, which he lit and let the smoke mingle with that of the Devil’s cigar.
            “Mmmm....that all He said?” asked Ralph, puffing furiously to keep the pipe alight.
            “Oh no. Not content with sarcasm, He looks me right in the eye and says, ‘Oh...not you too!’ ”
             “Not you too?” said Ralph.
            “The very same words,”said the Devil.  “And you know,” he added, “I swear He was smaller than the last time we met.”
            “Very interesting...” said Ralph slowly. “Very interesting indeed. Then what happened?”
            “Then He said the damndest thing.  He said,’If they don’t believe, we don’t exist.’
            “Whaaaat?” said Ralph, starting to feel alarmed. “That’s a helluva thing to say.”            
            The Devil smacked his hand down hard on the desk top. “That’s exactly what I said.  I said, ‘That’s a helluva thing to say,’ but He just shook his head and looked kinda sad. I never seen Him look that way before. Ever.”
            “Then what happened?” asked Ralph.
            “Then I woke up,” said the Devil.
            “I don’t like it,” said Ralph, pointing at the Devil with his pipe, which had now given up the ghost. “I don’t like it one little bit.”
            “Imagine how I feel, then,” said the Devil. “I’ve never slept a wink since day one…and I’ve certainly never woken up in my entire life!”
            “You’re the Devil,” said Ralph. “You don’t have a life.”
            “So how come the nightmare?” said the Devil.
            “It’s a funny old world,” said Ralph. “Maybe it was more like a daymare. A waking bad dream. Or even a hallucination.”
            “I’m the Devil, Ralph,” said the Devil, “I don’t do hallucinations.  I just let others do them.”
            “Remember that time with the funny mushrooms and those two blondes from accounting?” said Ralph, with a wicked grin.
            “That was an experiment,” said the Devil, innocently. “And I only did it the once. It left a very peculiar taste in my mouth.”
            “As I remember, you left a very peculiar taste in the blondes’ mouths, too,” said Ralph, his grin widening. 
            The Devil frowned.  “You remember too much, my little friend,” he said and idly waved his right hand.
            Panic attacked Ralph’s face for a split second and was gone.
            “So how come the nightmare?” said the Devil.
            Ralph had the passing, vague sensation of déjà vu, which he ignored. “It could have been a vision,” he said.
            “A vision,” said the Devil, his eyes narrowing and a slight smile tentatively introducing itself to his face. “I like that.”
            Ralph was on a roll.  “Me too,” he said. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s time we talked to MoMo.”
            The Devil smiled, showing gleaming white teeth, obviously brushed and flossed regularly, with no sign of dental work or gum infection. He got up from behind his desk, walked round to where Ralph was sitting, bent down and patted his curly locks. “Ralphie my old friend,” he said, affectionately. “What would I do without you.”
            Ralph basked in the glory of his bosses show of gratitude.
            Just then there was a knock on the door and in walked MoMo.  Three times the size of Ralph in every direction and normally smiling like someone who knew most of what was ever going to happen. And some of what was never even close to happening.
            This was understandable, given that he was a direct decendant of the last all-seeing Delphi Oracle priestess. Only he couldn’t tell all because of the strict union rules.
            However, he could hint a lot.  And sometimes tell bits of the whole truth. And even, on the odd occasion when threats, bribery and a warped sense of humour affected him deeply, he could issue a pretty damned good warning of impending doom – with money-back guarantee if proved wrong. 
            Only this time MoMo wasn’t smiling.
            “Hiya, MoMo,” said Ralph. “As the barman said to the horse... ‘Why the long face?’”
            “Ask me a question,” said MoMo, opening his arms, palms up. “Any question.”
            “Oooh, I like this. Past, present or future?” said Ralph, excitedly.
            “Don’t be a dipshit. Future, of course.”
            Ralph thought a second.  “Okay.  Who’s gonna win the next World Series?”
            “I don’t know” said MoMo.
            “Haven’t a clue,” said MoMo, shaking his very large head.
            Whoa…..let’s back this up a bit, big boy,” said Ralph, jumping down from the Devil’s desk and looking up at his large friend.  “You mean your mojo’s not working?”
            MoMo shook his head and looked sad and confused. “Woke up this morning and there it was – gone.  Sorry, boss,” he said, looking at the Devil and shrugging, helplessly.
            “Ralphie, my friend,” said the Devil. “ Have I ever told you about The Eye of God?”

Friday, October 15, 2010

Sometimes at dead of night

Sometimes at dead of night she calls
Echoing down corridors of dreams,
Lost at crossroad in another land
Tumbling in confusion.

Her plaintive cry sinks into my soul
Heartbreaking sorrow and despair,
Swirling all the colours of her mind
Into forgotten rainbows.

Her captive spirit aches to be set free
Its melancholy tears are pools of doubt,
Enchanted by a spell cast long ago
On some far horizon

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Reunion I was feeling a little goofy...


The ten year reunion
Approaches so quick,
It makes you real nervous,
Your stomach so sick.

You look in the mirror
And pat your belly
And wonder if you
Should drop dead or flee.

A diet, you feel,
Will make you look nice.
That glare from your ex
Will be worth the price.

Your hair may be thinning,
No reason to wail,
Your Spray-On-Hair
Just came in the mail.

Your job's a bit shoddy,
Telemarketing a mag,
But why should they know
You rented the Jag?

The person you're taking,
A brain they have not,
But they make you look good
‘Cause they're so dang hot.

The day finally comes,
You control all your shakes,
To go meet the other
Liars and fakes.

The promise

Awake you sleeping spirits
You knights from days of old,
You guardians of Britain
In myth and legend told.
Arise and keep the promise
A vow you made that when,
Your country needed heroes
We'd hear you ride again.

You denizens of Camelot
Who took that sacred vow,
The table and Excalibur
Are waiting for you now.
Again to swear allegiance
And songs of valour sing,
For Britain and for Arthur
Our once and future king.

Awake you loyal bowmen
You men in Lincoln green,
Take up your song of freedom
That made old Sherwood ring.
The time for slumbers over
You merry men who stood,
For England and for freedom
With Robin of the hood.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Meeting Chance

My days and nights had begun to bleed together like water colors too wet to grip the canvas. The perfect sunrise would peek its eager face over the horizon, just as I was folding myself into the embrace of the nebulous velvet night. Something within my being would not allow for daylight to be slighted my presence.
            “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” was my dismissal toward lack of slumber. I could not permit a day to slip by, would not abide the subtle darkening beneath my eyes.
            The truest depth of my soul knew one thing: I was different, strange, and peculiar. Not that I was unable to mesh, in perfect precision, with those around me. This joy I embarked on with simple ease. It was the inner self that struggled with normalcy, seeking out precarious and serpentine encounters that, like thinly laced iced on a frosted river, could potentially shatter and carry me wantonly into vacuous ends.
            Overall, what I felt most often was empty. Even when filled with soul shattering music, and consumed by the sweet kisses of lovers. The thrills I sought were a means of filling a vast void, immeasurable by human standards. People like me didn’t last long on the earth. Their lives were cut short, most often by their own doing. But suicidal, I was not. Life— the living, the breathing in, the blanketing myself within every experience, the physical, as well as the emotional stimulation, was what made up my existence, was my heaven, was my reason.  
            The night was dark, absent of the moons radiance, on that particular evening, the one that, in all its glory, changed my life forever. The one that would present me with a gift of understanding, expanding my mind, my soul in a way that I could never retract, would never fathom the notion.
            Lady Pacific baptized my naked feet with her foamy exhale as I made my way up the beach, exploring her midnight shore. Scrunching my toes into the satin sand of her skin, I pondered my aloneness. Her hushed gasp lifted my hair, scattering it like delicate tickling of feathers upon my cheeks, my neck, my exposed back. It was in those moments I felt most alive, at one with the orb of life I happened upon. But this was not a new experience for me. Many nights of my recent existence had been spent exploring these shores, enveloping my isolation.
            And yet this night was so very different.
            On a private beach, familiar to me as I had cast my loneliness upon this waterfront many times, I spread my body out upon the raw powder of the ocean’s edge. I cradled my head into its suppleness. My gaze lingered on the haphazard shapes of the constellations, Gemini, Scorpio, Libra—their intensity a familiar sentinel, my focus, centering me in the moment.
            For how long I sought the Gods in the stars, I know not. But with the gentle sweeping of the tide upon the shore, I became lulled, lucid of mind, of being.
            My sight thickened with each languid brushing of the waves upon the sand. The stars above me blurred, becoming soft streaks of light. And then I swear that I was dreaming…
…if only I wouldn’t have felt his hand gathering mine into his. I might have believed it an illusion, a conjuring of my willful mind.
            “Come away with me,” he whispered. His voice was like the tenderest of love songs, sweeping into the depths of my soul, stirring the very essence of my being.
            Within this dreamatic fascination, there was not a moment of hesitation. For in the next instant, I was carried away by him, upward and into the cosmic cloth of the universe.
            In my purest form of energy, I did not have need for breath. Freed from the confines of my flesh bound prison. “Where are you taking me?” My thoughts became his thoughts. And his became mine. Communication amongst ethereal beings needs no voice, unfettered, it flows with scintillating ease.
            “I want to show you all that is, and will ever be.”
            So pure was this companionship, so true, so real in vibration, I felt the hum of his energy in perfect resonation with my own. If ever I could grasp the understanding of soul mate, it was in that moment. This boy of energetic chance belonged with me, passing through me, winding around me, dancing and combining his energy with mine. This moment belonged to me, a forever thing, tangible, like the lilt of symphonic strings reverberating through the elements.
            He pulled me along, into and through the web of cosmogonic energy, shaking my core at its very foundation. My soul trembled, knowing that I was a part of it, connected and passing through and along its threads. When we halted, hovering within a sweeping cloud of stardust, I looked upon him, seeing his soul for the first time.
He appeared a boy in form, a radiant angel of energy, violet in hue and abundantly beautiful. His face had some semblance of human features, which was relative to my own perceptions.
With slow precision I moved my hand to his cheek, grazing its edge with my lighted fingers. Like a delicate ripple upon a sunlit pool, his energy fluxed bowing and swaying in response. Transfixed, I marveled at the atomic vitality of him.
When he reached out to me, I followed the movement of his atmospheric limb. My being, like a form of swirling dust motes, sparkling and stable, at his feathery touch were caused to dance, turning lithely fluid, catching the light. I sighed, an elegant shudder of my soul.
I pondered how I could see these things without eyes, feel them without skin and trap these memories within, with no mind to hold them. The answer came to me like a whisper soft breath brushing the downy hairs on my neck. Experiences, like all things, harbor energy, collecting in our collective conscience.
For awhile, we travelled, hand in hand, slithering through the finely spun web of energy, sanguine and dazzling, eternal and infinite. The evanescent twinkle of the adventure, too soon, elapsed into the breaking of dawn. Once again, I found myself enticed into the confines of humanity. But forever I would grip this knowledge, holding it to my heart with both hands.
Meeting Chance, I would eternally be changed. Drawing those whose energies hum and resonate with mine, never would I fall prey to emptiness again.

Monday, October 11, 2010


She creeps upon you, eyes shut tight
Unwillingly captures your soul, your heart
Bleating and breathing, heaviest night
Trapping within, which you refuse to part

Come upon my body, unto her I plead
Heart, soul, living, corrupted desire
Vacant and wanting, so frivolous need
Realization, fates fueling her fire

Cruel, unyielding, drawing her sword
Pleasures so painful yet relentless
Will she ever again be yours?
Gossamer screen, tempest the temptress.

Terror filled, your core left gaping
So lost, so empty, so futile and long
Time a drug, disappointment shaping
Coldest attempt, harken swan-song.

Believing dreams, purest this kiss
Aching chills, painful truth, honest
Forever shaped, it will end like this
Burned soul ashes spilt by comets

Saturday, October 9, 2010

How wonderful the night

How wonderful the night
When long felt passions meet,
The touch of silk on silk
Caressing hands and feet.

The thrill of clouded eyes
Anticipation of each touch,
Shared sensual ecstasy
Was never felt so much.

How will the pleasure fall?
From hands or lips or ice,
How pleasing to the heart
To practice such a vice.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Finally Free

Born from the seeds of stars, set upon the Earth in human form, against incredible odds, they found each other. In truest soul experience only, they would be allowed to love one another. The Great Earth had bonded them to her bosom in physicality, restraining them from the truth within their hearts, their souls. And yet upon the relinquishing of their mortal bondage, together they voyaged within starlight. Finally free to embrace.
Oil on Canvas by: Tami Snow 2010

Guardians of the Forest Book One

Guardians of the Forest Book One
Mother-In Law
Chapter 2
Abigail Madison-Chase

Suspended mid-air April tried to scream. Looking down she realized she was almost face down in the water. She needed help and she needed it now. Turning toward the campsite she tried to call out to Ryan. Her cry for help never left her mouth.
Doing a double take the only thing she saw was a massive, hairy monster where Ryan once stood. Flexing, moving trying to shake lost of the invisible hold. April prepared to die.

Aprils mental cry was draining Ryan’s’ powers. The only thing that could save her was if he linked his powers with that of the pack. Reaching out for his pack link he felt a jolt. The mental kick was swift and strong.


“Ryan I….”

“I am kind of busy mother. My mate has gotten herself in a jam”

“I know I can feel your distress. That dreadful human is going to be the death of my only son.”

“Mother, I am not your only son. Mother are you crying? I can’t deal with this now mother I need to save April”

“That is why I am here son to help your human. I have linked with the pack get ready for a burst of energy. It should be enough to get her to safety and change back to your human form”

This was not going as he planned. His mother hated his mate. Why his mother seemed to hate his mate was lost on him. She seemed perfectly happy with his father who was also human. In the years since he first encountered his mate his mother had introduced him at pack powwows to every available Sasquatch in a 100 mile range.
The wave of energy hit him mid stride as he reached the river. Stepping out on the rocks he reached for April as her mental scream tore through him again draining his energy. If not for the pack link he would not be able to hold her and move her to the shore.

“Mother, I need your help. I need to send her into a deep sleep before she goes into hysterics. “

“Ryan, of course son I will do this for your clumsy little human”.

“Mother, do not mess with her memories.”

“Ryan, remember who you are talking to.”

“Mother, I am getting weaker despite the link. Can we argue about this later?”

A sudden burst of energy hit Ryan as he touched April’s forehead. His mates’ breath became quite and calm as her mental scream slowly evaporated.

This was the first time that Ryan had been so close to his mate. She was beautiful. Smiling he leaned in to give her a kiss.

“Ryan No!

Monday, October 4, 2010


“Dammit Cassie...Dammit Cassie!”
Even now that curse comes back to haunt me
After all the years of peace and freedom
After all the years of welcome silence
Every now and then those words attack me
In the night when I lie sweating
Sleep bereft and body aching
I remember every touching
Every alcoholic breathing
Every drip of foul saliva
I remember each invasion

“Dammit Cassie…Dammit Cassie!”
Did I love you as my father?
Did I love you as my lover?
Did I weep the day you left me?
Left to lie beside my mother?
Did I Hell…you twisted bastard!
You who took away my innocence
You who took away my soul
You who crushed all life within me
Till I died but kept on breathing

“Dammit Cassie…Dammit Cassie!”
There is nothing left but echo…………………

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Candy Worlds

Sugary sweet the passage flows
Rainbow dancing ribbon curls 
Bubblegum floating miniature worlds
Spiral lollipop adventures unfurl

Silky smooth like chocolate streams 
Licorice ropes they twirl and bend
The dialogue found within my dreams
Creating sprinkled worlds of pretend

Join me down melted ice cream rivers
Whipped cream clouds gaze from above
From within my Sweet Tart heart to give
Is a decadent treat of marshmallow love.

Friday, October 1, 2010

(Maxwell Alexander Drake) You want my story for your publishing house?
(Acquisitions Editor) I think I'm entitled to it.
(Maxwell Alexander Drake) You want my story?
(Acquisitions Editor) I want your story!
(Maxwell Alexander Drake) You can't handle my story! Son, we live in a world that has books. And those books have to be read by people with intelligence. Who's gonna read them? You? You, Mr. Acquisitions Editor? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the death of Hardbacks and you curse the rise of the eBook. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that the death of the Hardback, while tragic, probably creates new fans. And my writing style, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, entertains and moves fans... You say you want my story. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want the fans who like my stories. You need the fans who pay for my stories!

I use words like plot, character development, point of view... I use these words as the backbone to a life spent writing stories fans appreciate. You use 'em as the back blurb to your books! I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to an Acquisitions Editor who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very stories I provide, then questions the manner in which I write them! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a pen and write your own story. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!

(Acquisitions Editor) Are you going to submit to my publishing house?
(Maxwell Alexander Drake) (quietly) I wrote a story that fits your submission guidelines.
(Acquisitions Editor) (screaming) Are you going to submit to my publishing house?
(Maxwell Alexander Drake) (screams back) You're goddamn right I am!!!