Little itty bitty baby fly
Circling my fruit bowl.
You’re an evil interloper
With hostile goals.
What did I ever do to you
Except give you food to eat?
Now you’re everywhere
A virus I can’t be beat.
I know how you operate
hateful little mite
you feast on sugar dropping
believing your own hype
I’m going to lure you
Into my glass of wine
you can feel my wrath
And find another place dine
Everywhere I go
you’re circling my head
This battle has been lost
My hope all but dead.
Well played little fly
You have contaminated my house
You’re a despicable, deplorable
egg spraying louse
The King (you know who) says writing must behold truth. I can write about the alien that takes laps in my cereal as long as I write with truth. So if that alien comes from the planet ‘Swearsalot” my alien better have a mouth that rivals prison potties. Unless of course my alien has a church lady sensitivity–perhaps the very reason he’s in my cereal?
When I think about truth and writing, naturally my brain wanders to this blog. Am I typing words that are true?
How transparent is honesty anyway? Can one produce drivel with traces of truth?
drivel |ˈdrivəl| noun
silly nonsense: don’t talk such drivel!verb (drivels, driveling, driveled; Brit. drivels, drivelling, drivelled) [ no obj. ] 1 talk nonsense: he was driveling onabout the glory days.2 archaic let saliva or mucus flow from the mouth or nose; dribble.
Isn’t writing a blog already like gutting your soul to see what dribbles (drivels) out?
Oh the choices!
Cream of bull?
The truth is I must write. I’ve been doing it since the six grade. That dog eared red duo tang filled with middle school wisdom was both cape and shield.
I feel good when I write. I feel like I’m doing what I was put on the earth to do. I actually feel sorry for everyone who doesn’t write. Don’t they (you) know what you’re missing?
So I write. Today a little drivel. Tomorrow a best seller.
So my new book is coming out. Fable Nation. Very exciting. Well, perhaps somewhat anti-climatic. I did write the book 7 years ago. Had a publisher who flaked out on me. So, while this is mind blowing news I feel like I’ve been here before. Except, I haven’t. Lands Atlantic Publishing is awesome. Their books are worth reading. Alan Cupp’s book, Rich Without Ransom got my fussy 11 year old son reading. Thank you Alan. The Voice, By Jennifer Anne Davis is courageous and well written. And now, Fable Nation, my first go at a fun adventure for middle graders, has joined the family at Lands Atlantic.
Now what should I do with this blog? The problem with being a middle grade author is that middle graders do not read blogs. How will I ever become as famous as I was always meant to, if no one reads this blog?
And if I choose to write to the elusive online, blog reading, middle grader what do I talk about? Farts and zombies? How will their parents ever take me seriously?
It is a dilemma.
So, I begin this blog with the full intention of one day changing it to fit the needs of my readers. For now no one is reading it.
If I write a word in the middle of cyber space and no one reads it does that word have no meaning?
As the King himself stated-writing is an act of telepathy.
that would be Stephen King, the greatest horror writer of all time (yes he is don’t argue).
Now on to more serious stuff-
Who would win?
Zombies of course.
Zombies can’t smell.
Truthfully, I’m a little disturbed at how easy it was to find that picture. Why would anyone think of that.
Why. Would. I?