Ray Bradbury – Something Wicked this Way Comes


Hello Readers of the fantasy realm.

You may already know this but I wanted to mention this very important current event,  Ray Bradbury, the great Horror,Fantasy, Science Fiction writer  died this Tuesday June 5th 2012 at the age of 91.  I heard coincidentally it was during the time Venus was in transit across the sun as viewed by us Earthbound aliens. So I think that is fitting.  Venus won’t transit the  Earth  for another 100+yrs as viewed by us down here and we probably won’t get a writer to come along like him for just as long.

I’d say he lived a pretty full life,  filled with magic, love, good friendships, and genuine appreciation by his critics and readers. What more could you ask for in a life as a writer.  His legacy will live on for many years. He has certainly influenced me in what I see I want to be as a writer.  I grew up with a lot of his stories.  From the aforementioned title of this blog  – Something Wicked this way Comes”  a  little Horror/Fantasy horror yarn about a diabolical carnival coming to a small town,  to Fahrenheit 451  – a dysotopian story so many other writers have tried to illuminate often  in their own writing.

What I love I about him as a writer, was that he was so electic.  He could go from writing  a short love story like the “Laurel and Hardy Love Affair”  to  a fantasical endearing friends epoch little adventure set on the night of Halloween in the story called  Halloween Tree.”  to his Science Fiction piece – Martian Chronicles”  and do them all so convincingly with new ideas never before explored, along with new perspectives to be pondered.

You believe the characters. You believe the fantastic situations. You believed the emotions. You believe the possibilites. He will simply be missed as a voice in all these genres.

I know many other authors and writers who followed his work have probably benefited from his many teachings whether they realized it or not when trying to translate their own stories from their inner minds to pen and paper. I know I have greatly.

I hope to do him and writers like him justice one day. Thank you Ray Bradbury for being a part of my life eventhough you didn’t know you were.

Flash Fiction Story – ‘Flight through the Forest’


Marek ran hard through the thick underbrush, wary of outlying limbs or wet patches of dew covered  grass. No need to go down in a tumble, then he would should surely be dead. Almost there, he thought wildly.  Almost there, was still not near enough.  Do these things ever tire? The gods know I am, he thought.

He could hear their caterwauling screeches all around him as they communicated  to each other in some inane language he couldn’t began to understand, cooperating, trying to box him, trying to trap him. Intelligent little bastards, he wouldn’t have thought as much. Out the corner of his eye he saw a flit of shadowed forms appear and then disappear suddenly out of the darkened mists which collected in clumps on the forest floor like a rolling wispy snake crawling across the ground.

They were gaining on him.  If they surrounded him he would be hard pressed to fight through them.  One creature no problem,two no problem,hell not to boast but ten would probably be no problem for his strong sword arm,  but to his estimation there were hundreds. So he ran like the dog he was.

It didn’t help that as he ran he was hindered, with one hand having to hold the large package that he was hired to steal back from a temple of zealots buried deep in this god forsaken forest he now ran in. Half his job was done, now he was entrusted to return the package to its rightful owner, King Erris; whose contract he had  foolishly taken on. The second half of the deal was looking to be harder than the first had been.

Knowing of his reputation as a cunning fighter and fearless warrior they had offered him a payment of  twenty thousand in gold, literally a Kings ransom indeed! How could he refuse! The few meager coppers he had in his pouch along with the pitcher of ale in his hand when the King’s men approached him in the bar had been his only possessions besides the sword and the clothes on his back. The meager coin and ale looked more inviting at this moment, not to mention the big hipped serving  wench who had been giving him the eye all through the night while he drank his weight in spirits.

Let this be a lesson learned if he survived. Some jobs were just to big for any amount of gold to be had.

The King said the treasure stolen by the religious fanatics was more priceless than anything, worth more than a thousand kingdoms he had told him. If this treasure was not returned, kingdoms would fall, men would die, destinies would be denied. What was this treasure that the King had stolen from , Marek had asked. The King would not say even when Marek had pressed him. Only that he would know it  when he came upon it. Four other contracts such as him had already failed, some individuals like him, others who had went in teams of three or four.  Only one man had returned of them all, empty-handed and had died three days later from his inflicted wounds but not before giving them the valuable information of where the treasure was being held inside the temple.

Know it Marek soon did , as he had crept into the inner sanctum of the black veined marbled temple after scaling up the almost vertical walls to the uppermost parapets where he was told it would be housed in a circular chamber guarded by the blackest of demon dogs you never would wish to encounter. The three dogs surrounded its circumference , all clad in steel mail over their entire body with the color of the darkest pitch stealing the  light as it hit its surface.  Sharp canines dripped spittle from their massive muzzles to burn like acid upon the stones they walked.

Marek had quickly rushed one catching it by surprise sending it  over the edge to tumble and bounce against the hard stone far below.  The other two well, they had been a little tougher to deal with not being caught by surprise.

Luckily they had never been trained to work together against a common foe. As they advanced on him they actually more than once snarled and bit at each other to see who could get to kill Marek first.

He had used their dislike for each other to his  advantage by keeping one always in front him with the other behind its companion  causing the rear dog to lash out at the other dog’s heels in frustration.

He had  taken the front demon dog in the eye with the point of his sword when it was distracted sending it into a wild spasm as his sword entered into its brain and scrambled it like eggs in a frying pan.

The other dog had advanced on Marek slowly, weary now that its two companions had been so  quickly dealt with by this new adversary.

Marek knew he had to dispatch this thing soon before any others came along, but he didn’t dare go in for a strike to the thing’s mailed body and risk the creatures bite or even drippings of its spittle on him which could cause him to lose the use of his arm in an instant. So he did what he was good at, he ran.

The creature thought him scared and running for his life so it had become emboldened and ran after him. Marek ran faster and gained some distance on him and then he suddenly stopped. The creature’s momentum carried it forward and with blade held at eye level, Marek jumped high into the air toward the creature as it came in its headlong rush at him. He came down in a stabbing arc to the top of the creature’s head to bury his blade in deep dead center between the dogs ears punching through  the black mail covering its skull. It quivered and died.

With the last of the beasts dispatched he had entered through the bronze doors to the inner chamber.  There inside on a raised dais made of white marble inside a crystal bowl of the palest blue was a baby wrapped in a red silk blanket. Nothing else had been in the room chamber save that. So he knew what the treasure was as the King said he would.

These creatures that chased him now were different than the foul dogs he had faced. These things seemed almost human in nature but twisted with thin whip like bodies and elongated distorted  limbs propelled them through the forest after him. He only caught glimpses of them as he ran but that had been enough to spur him to a faster pace.

Through it all the baby had been as  quiet as a mouse not saying a word. It just looked up at him as he had run with its deep blue eyes with all the confidence in the world it seemed, that Marek would carry him from out of this place, safe and sound back to his home. For very personal reasons  one being his own neck, Marek didn’t want to let the little imp down.

The day was coming up fast as the sun was just breaking the horizon ahead through  the trees. Soon he would be able to see clearly what was chasing him. The trees were becoming more spread out and the vegetation less dominate in places. He was nearing the edge, he may yet have a chance. These creatures he was told, feared the desert, that was why the other man had made it out and back to tell the tale. He just had to get there first.

Then the thing happened he did not wish to have happened, his right foot caught the edge of a wet moss-covered rock throwing him off-balance. He instinctively rolled into the fall across the ground smothering the baby in a loose  but tight protective cocoon with his arms and hands as he did so. Marek ended up on his back looking up at the nighttime sky  through the forest trees, it was a dim blue with a wisp of white creeping in.

He heard the chattering of many voices draw near. Marek tried to stand but was met with pain in his left ankle. It felt like he had twisted it. Gods that ale would taste good right about now, he thought idly.

They drew in closer, from behind, to the left, right and now they closed the circle, in the front. His exit to the east was closed.

He forced himself to stand. fighting through the pain and drew his sword, leaning against a nearby tree for support. He saw an army of them crawling over the ground to him. Their eyes started to glow gold in the burgeoning light of day as they neared.

He looked down at the baby he held still with its eyes blue and confident in him. The treasure to topple Kingdoms the King had said, for destinies to be lost or made.  What will they say of me little one?

Marek reached out a finger to touch the little one’s cheek. The babe held up its to  little hand to grab it. Marek noticed a tattoo, better yet a birthmark it seemed on its small forearm in the shape of a Crescent moon with a pale mist of cloud passing in front of it.

Marek made a sharp intake of breath. Could it be. The Redeemer?

He had heard the prophecies but he had never thought to see it come in his lifetime.

He gripped his sword tighter in his hand and looked out at the horde. They were all but twenty feet away in tight circle about him. They had stopped. They were waiting for me to turn him over to them.

They stood motionless shoulder to shoulder. A hair could not have slid between the space they allowed.

Arms ending with three sharp talons rested on the ground twitched occasionally, perhaps in anticipation of his imminent death at their hands and the fulfillment of their task the creatures had been sent for..

They did not chatter at each other or at him.  They just looked at him with cold dead stares. Their thin slit likes mouths were all closed tight in a devilish grin as if to say game over my friend.

He did the only thing he could. He tigtened his grip on his sword and the little one and grinned right back and said,

“Come on.” He whispered softly.

The babes tattoo began to burn bright against its  flesh, the moon glowing on its skin as if set high in a nighttime sky.

The pain in his ankle was gone, his strength had returned tenfold.

He raised his sword high and came at them with a growl…

Into the Woods – A Poem


 

Into the Woods

The young man walked into the darkening woods

few dared tread even in daylight,

for there were many a tale of a sly fey or evil

sprite who walked there at night.

 

Not caring for rogue or dark highwayman to

lay upon him on the open road as he slept,

he sought the sanctuary of the deep forest

instead for his bed.

 

He bunkered down next to a dead fallen tree

and built a small fire against the cold that crept

as the sun crawled deep and fled into a hole

in the ground as he prepared for sleep.

 

He stared into the fire and being young let his

fancies take flight, beginning to imagine eyes in

the woods contemplating him, waiting for him

in the burgeoning night.

 

He wasn’t a child to lose himself,

so he shook off his disquiet and the cold and closed

his weary eyes pretending to be bold and found sleep

even through his fear of the unknown.

 

Into the night he slept until the crescent moon

shone high overhead casting pale blue shadows

across his face and breast as he slept on his

forest bed.

 

Now some say if the moon finds you in the forest

other things may as well, like a beacon to a boat

far off shore.

 

The young man started awake to the feeling

of a finger lightly brushing his cheek,

cold but oddly yet full of heat.

 

The fire was mere embers casting a feeble light,

but he could see the outline of a figure nearby, one arm

outstretched toward him, sitting in a low crouch

swaying to and fro and cooing as if in love.

 

 The young man sprang up and backed over and

behind the tree and clutched at the hag bone which

hung around his neck for encounters such as these.

 

A good thing his talisman he wore for he may have

found himself dead in the morn.

 

“Come hither, Come closer.” It seemed to whisper in

his very ear, even though the creature was across from him

and not near.

 

It moved closer and the light from the dying fire

caught its face just so to reveal black pupils set against

black orbs which should have been bone white.

 

The face sneered at him with a clown like grin showing

a full set of razor sharp teeth within, while all the while green

flecked saliva dripped and slipped down its pointy chin.

 

It licked its lips with a tongue as red as blood and smelled the

air seeming to mark the man’s scent if  he should run.

“Sit and talk brother, I am alone I just wish a little company

in my forest home.”

 

“I am no brother of yours darkling, be gone from my sight!”

the young man yelled back shaking his talisman as he held

it tight.

 

“You are more kin than you know, do you think it mere

happenstance that I appear before you so?”

 

The creature looked at him from across the dim fire and

stared into him deep. Shadows danced on the creature’s face

as its dead eyes bore into him full of dead life and fathomless heat.

 

“You are my brother, for your heart is as dark as mine, for it beats

within you and called to me for it keeps the same time.

No moon called me to this place, nothing but your blackheart

pulled me to your presence and this forest space.”

 

 The young man said nothing but continued to clutch the talisman he wore.

The creature smiled and looked at what he held so desperately to his breast

for it knew the man’s secrets and oh so much more.

 

“Why should that help you in a time such as this? Should it not turn

on its owner and prove itself dead instead?”

 

“You will die as they did, oh yes. I see your eyes tell the lie on your lips

as you twist the truth you try to spit.”

 

“You saw the little farm house, deep in the wood and all alone?”

“A  husband, wife and daughter safe in their home

in the night, as you stared in their window and

crouched like I do now so low.”

 

“You crept inside when the night was still and killed the man while fast asleep.

Then you had your way with mother and daughter both and

all the while you smiled and laughed as if it all a joke.”

 

Like a lightning stroke the creature grabbed the young man’s hand and

ripped open his grasp and flung the worthless talisman from the young man’s

hands into the cold dewy grass.

 

The young man eyes opened wide and

 implored to the creature “Please I don’t want to die.”

“Hmm..that was the same said by the mother and child”

“Remember what you replied?”

Then you should not have taken up residence so deep in these woods.

 

With that the creature buried its teeth

into the young’s man’s neck and drank deep

of his brother all the while the young man

screamed for release.

 

Now the tales say if you go deep into the woods you

may run afoul of dark things at night, but the tales also

say be wary of the darkness in your own heart.

A Vampires Lament


Your skin breaks just like

the skin of an apple would

as my teeth sink in.

 

The taste of you floods

my dead mind with memories

of sweet Riesling fair,

 

Days gone, best left dead,

parties of friends buried deep,

a grave gone long cold.

 

Content I had been,

but did not yet know it then.

Death opened my eyes.

 

Sweet isolation,

now follows me everywhere,

a pale hallow friend.

 

My blood lust sated,

you fall to the rocks below,

a victim of me.

 

I could have turned you,

forced a light friendship to dark,

misery to share.

 

But love lingered still,

trapped in these immortal cells.

I did all I could.

 

You sleep the sleep I

seek in my dreams while I sleep

on a bed of nails.

 

Come to me lost ones,

I will take away the pain,

drink it into me.

I am your pardon

to a life God has sidelined,

your dark god on earth.

 

Your skin breaks just like

the skin of an apple would

as my teeth sink in.

BadAss Woman Match UP! WRITING CHALLENGE.


Well, the votes are in. I asked my readers a few weeks ago to check out the sixteen Bad Ass Woman of Fantasy and Horror I listed in my Blog to see which TWO they would wish to see in a fight and to find who would win (at least in my mind anyways).  After tallying the  over overabundance of votes from my readers and followers we have a MATCH UP!

Actually I am being sarcastic.  I did not get ONE VOTE from any of my followers or readers to my page. Thank you very much.

I guess BADASS WOMAN are not that  important in the world!  No respect I tell you..Oh well, be that as it may, I promised a fight and I’m gonna give you a fight DAMMIT! Besides this was not only a challenge to my readers, it was also to myself as a writer to work on creating good fight sequences….practice practice practice ya know.

I randomly pulled two names from my list out of a hat for the bout and came up with Ta Da !:  Trinity from the Matrix  Movie VS   Lara Croft from Tomb Raider the game (and movies I guess):  I think  that is actually a pretty even match up considering the rest of the women on the list. So here it goes below!

Rumble in the Jungle:

Trinity leaned back in the soft black leather chair as Neo  adjusted her straps.

Neo came in close and whispered in her ear. “I think you’ll like this program. I made it myself, you might say it’s a fantasy of mine.” Neo  smiled at her.

Trinity gave him a curious smile back but said nothing as she settled into the chair.

“We’re ready Neo, we can go anytime.”   Link said standing behind them next to the control panel.

Neo nodded to Link and  gave Trinity a light kiss on the lips. “Ready?” he asked her.

“Always – I wanna see how good of a programmer you’ve become my dear.” she grinned at him challengely.

Neo shoved the connection port into the back of Trinitys skull…and her world went white.

5 milliseconds later …Loading Training Program 4212.10. Jungle Scene – Sequencing..Overlaying…Initiationing Insertion

Trinity found herself standing next to a slow running stream on a  fallen log mottled with green moss and overrun with  brown fungi clinging to its bark.  A myriad of different trees surrounded the spot she stood, most  reached fifty to hundred feet in the air with a few others reaching higher yet up to maybe two-hundred feet or more  high above the main canopy of the  the jungle she now seemd to be in.   – Dense foliage spread out along the ground forming the landscape at ground level enveloping her in a cocoon of rich green plant life.

After taking in the beautiful scenery, the second thing that struck Trinity was that it was  hot as hell, sweat was all already starting to collect and drip from her. She looked down at what she was wearing and had to smile.

On her feet were a set of sturdy brown hiking boots, light but durable with probably good traction.  A pair of skin tight brown cotton shorts came up just shy of her belly button to ride on her hips, the shorts  reached no lower than mid thigh level if that. A well made sports bra of the same brown color  covered the top of her.  Two highly polished silver semi-autos each with a fifteen round clip were strapped to her on either side of her breasts tucked just underneath her armpits. She also noticed she had two throwing knives  strapped to each wrist as well.

Neo you naughty boy.

Why have you been following me, who sent you?”  a womans voice asked from out of the jungle unseen.  A british woman’s voice by the sound of it, Trinity thought. What is Neo playing it. I”ll play along…for now.

“Just out fishing, see.”    Trinity pointed at the stream as if to say, isn’t it obvious,  and gave the woman where ever she was a wide smile; Trinity thought perhaps twenty meters to her left on an out cropping of rock downriver behind a some dense bushes but she had to be sure.

The woman laughed , “Most people use a pole when fishing. I don’t have time for games, tell me who sent you.”

Got her, Trinity thought, definitly twenty meters up on the cropping and defiinitely British. I didnt know Neo had a thing for British women, she mused.

“Well I’m not most people.” Trinity casually walked over to the stream and watched the water for a moment until she spied what she was looking for. Lighting quick she bent and reached into the stream and pulled out a struggling striped fish at the base of its tail. It was as big as her head, Trinity held it up  for the mystery  woman to see. That oughta impress her.

“I must say I’m impre-” The brish woman voice cut off as Trinity  dropped the fish and spun towards the sound of the woman’s voice and let go with one of the throwing knives on her wrist towards the spot. Trinity’s knife  flew straight and true  and hit dead center into the foliage. She was greeted with a solid thunk as it stuck into wood.

Dammit, Trinity thought,  missed.

Trinity sprinted directly  towards the spot along the stream weaving  as she did so whoever it was could not get a bead on her at a distance. She pulled both her guns at the same time firing as she ran directly into the bush ahead of her.

No one jumped out at her. No one fired at. No one said a word. Hmmm,  perhaps I got her. Trinity  approached the bush and came to a halt in front of it.  Most of the bush was destroyed, leaves hung in tatters from its branches with not much left to speak of to call it a bush. The blade she had thrown was stuck deep into the base of it, but no dead woman behind  it.  Trinity realize she had  emptied both her clips from her guns into the now very dead bush and  she had not been given a single extra clip to replace them from the vast inventory of supplies she had been given. Thanks Neo, love you to.

“Just a fishing eh?” the womans voice now seemed to be coming from where she had been standing before  – perhaps behind that tall  thick cacao tree some ten feet beyond the point.

“Didnt know you needed a gun to go fishing, I estimate you have no bullets left in that gun and only one of those knives left on your person unless I’m mistaken.”  The woman sounded very sure of herself , Trinity thought. She was begininning not to like her very much. Hope your enjoying the show Neo.

The woman who was only a voice until now suddenly stepped from behind the tree Trinity had suspected. She was a fair complected woman with very long dark brown hair done up in a  single braid down her back.  She was wearing pretty much  the same outfit as Trinity but with her guns strapped at mid-thigh but  less the knives and was just as tall Trinity..  Trinity saw she had a small grey metal  cube  in her left hand which she held lightly with her thumb hovering over two buttons and she was very pretty. Neo.

“Now, I will ask you one last time, who are you and who sent you, please don’t make me ask you again.” she said grinning at her.

“PAUSE PROGRAM” Trinity said aloud.  All was quiet.,no jungle heat assaulted her body,  no birds chirped, no branches swayed in the wind high up in the canopy,  the stream was frozen in its bed not moving, most of all the bitch wasn’t talking, she was just standing there not moving. I am not jealous, she told herself she’s just a program.

“Scenery is nice but is this best you can do Neo, a jungle girl archeologist in tight brown shorts and a  pony tail with a british accent?” She said to the forest knowing he could hear her.

“Let’s get this over with. RE-Commence PROGRAM” she said. Sound and movement along with the oppressive heat returned.

“My name is Trinity, and Neo sent me to kick your ass. Satisfied” Trinity said.  Time to try something new even he hasn’t  see me do yet.

She slowy pulled the small throwing blade from its holder on her wrist and held it up to reflect the light through the trees then just let it drop to the ground as if to say to the other woman,  See I mean you know harm.  Trinity concentrated then very hard on the metal of the blade she had just dropped, the look of it , the feel, the weight. She felt it.  Ready. She had a theory she wanted to try now.

She drew both of her guns and and pointed them at the woman ” You forgot about the extra bullet in each of the chambers” . Trinity blinked and the woman suddenly wasn’t there. Just empty space where she had once been followed by a popping sound.

Trinity whirled to her right in a heart beat when she heard another popping sound not far away and fired both her guns. Click with the Hammer on both guns. Nothing and Nothing again.

“You were bluffing, why you little bugger.”  She smiled again at Trinity with that wicked grin she was beginning to come to hate already.

“How are you doing that?” Trinity asked calmly behind her sun glasses as she lowered her guns.

“Aah, a little thing I picked up from a Techie friend of mine, certified genuis really.”  She wiggled the little box she held in her hand.

“It creates an inversion in space-time in a localized area and pulls me into it and pops me out the other side. Kinda tickles.” she said and smiled  again at Trinity.

“It’s kind  of fun, you  oughta  try it”  she smiled again Trinity.

“Thanks, maybe I will.”  The knife Trinity had thrown slammed into the womans hand piercing the palm holding the small cube.

Trinity ran for the woman has she sat clutching her bleeding left hand. The woman looked up and saw her running towards her and went for one of her guns. Trinity did the only thing she could do, and that was to throw one of her own guns directly at her. The woman was good, she had her gun drawn and was just about to pull the trigger before the butt of Trinity’s gun caught her full in the chin propelling back and hard to the jungle floor.

 Trinity walked over to her and shoved her with her foot so she laid faced up. She squatted down and grabbed her by her pony-tail and slapped her lightly on the face.

“Wake up.” Trinity slapped her a little harder. The woman moaned and her eyes fluttered opened.

“Now, I wanna know something . What’s your name?” Trinity asked

“You don’t know? It’s Lara, Lara Croft”  the woman said weakly.

“Well Lara Croft, I’m sorry to say this, but it’s Game Over”  The last thing Lara saw was Trinity’s fist connecting with her face.

Training Program 4212.10. Jungle Scene Concluded – Initiationing De-Insertion – System Purge of Program – Ready for acquisition of new program

Trinity opened her eyes slowly, readjusting to the momentary vertigo sometimes felt coming out.

“She’s back” Link said.

“Well, how did you like my new program I will admit I concentrated more on the visuals than the fighting but it was meant to be a strategic training session more so than a combat one and I had to have the setting just so, and what was that with the knife at the end…I’ve never seen you do that before.” Neo asked looking intently at her.

“I can see you worked hard on the visuals.  But I still kicked the visual’s ass, as for the knife, every girl’s got to have  her secrets now doesn’t she.” Trinity leaned in as if she was going to kiss him, but instead got up out of the chair and walked down  the gangplank to go back to her quarters.

She gave Neo a backwards glance, “You coming, I have to change first, maybe into some shorts, it’s so hot in here”  and then she continued on.

Neo followed after and Link just smiled to himself alone next to his console.

The Whole – A poem about trying to understand your place in life


The Whole

All of us in this world

are made up of bits and pieces.

The failure of a father, the loving

kiss of a mother, the slap to the face,

the hug when most needed, the stomp

to the head, the shove in the right direction,

the mysteries from out of the elusive aether.

Puzzle pieces from an endless box

are continuously being dumped on to our table top

of life that you must pick up

and put together to form

a solid picture from.

Place your pieces carefully one at a time

into the spaces that fit.

Dwell not on the picture you think you see forming,

for it is an illusion, a trick

most dire to the eye and mind.

Your puzzle is not yet finished,

if it ever can be,

for how are we

to ever know

the whole.

when so many

pieces have

yet to be

placed.

by Philip Wardlow

My Endless Climb over an ever Growing Mountain of Rejections


I said I would keep you abreast of my progress in the world of writing regarding my submission for my stories/poetry  to various publishers so here goes.

I have been racking up a lot of rejection letters lately for my writing of my stories and poems.

I received my first rejection letter for my 23,00 word  Novella, “Roadkill“.  that I submitted approximately 60 days ago. One good thing I guess is I got it back early so now I can submit it to other publishers for consideration. Always gotta look on the bright side. The only things that bugs me is all they said was “We have finished reviewing Roadkill for publication and have decided to pass.  Thanks for submitting to us and best wishes.”  I know there probably  busy but they  could they have least  thrown me a bone. Like,  feel free to try submitting again with another story when you are ready. Something like that maybe. Just a little encouragement would be nice.Cmon!

Trouble is I’m realizing that Novella length stories are hard to push to most publishers. They either want short stories from 1,000 words to  15,000 words with the average being accepted being about 8-10,000. There a few out there who to take them but only a very few I’m learning want the Novella Length. They want full length Novels in the 90,000 + Word Count or Short stories period.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not sitting on my hands waiting for rejections on one story. Hell no! I’ve  still been writing new stories and submitting & waiting on rejections for those as well…ha ha. I have  recently sent in a much shorter story at about 3,300 words called “Devils in the Details” to various  publishers. Two have since rejected it. I have just sent it to another publisher just the other day so we will see about that one.

I did already find another publisher  to submit “Roadkill” to so I will be sending that one in again soon; and the countdown begins all over again.

I have submitted some of my darker poetry into various publications with no luck yet as well. One called “Into the Deep Woods”, I think is really good. I am waiting on one online magazine response so we will comes of that.

I am also just finishing up another  story in the  7000 to 8000 Words range that  I will try to be turning into a publisher soon as well.

I am pretty pragmatic about my writing. I know its a long shot careerwise. I do know that all this writing is shaping me into the writer I am supposed to be one day.  I am really trying to work on my prose by fine tuning character development, plotting and scenes along with conflicts that insue in all that goes with it. If anything these short stories help me with that greatly, and besides to create a character and building a new world, for me is a satsifying thing. I want to know what happens to that man who is cast out into a boat in the middle of stormy night on an open  dark ocean. You wanna see what happens to him.

Wish me luck in my endeavors and I wish you luck in yours as well

Sticky Fingers The Movie – Fundraiser


Sticky Fingers: The Movie: THE FINAL FUNDRAISER!

I have a friend who is a up an coming filmmaker who is currently in the process of producing a full length no holds bard animated movie that looks to be a smash. He’s picked up some prominent actors to do some of  the voice overs for the movie. One you might know very well, appeared in Dusk before Dawn, Zombie Apocalypse:Redemption, and many more movies. He goes by the name of FRED “THE HAMMER” WILLIAMSON , and did  I forget to mention  also  a former professional football star.  Please check out the informational link above to the Sticky Fingers Site if you would like to help out in this endeavor.

My Favorite Poem/Quote of the Week


Decided to give you a snapshot and a little insight into where my mind is at, by adding a new category to my blog posts entitled as you can  see above  “My Favorite Poem/Quote of the Week”  . To me that can be a poem I may have run across on the web, or something  I’m currently reading in a book or have read in the past.

One of my favorite poets is Langston Hughes and I thought the following little poem would sum my psyche up this  week.

“Looks like what drives me crazy

Don’t have no effect on you–

But I’m gonna keep on at it.

Till it drives you crazy, too.”

by Langston Hughes

Dung Beetle


Sometimes I feel like a  Dung Beetle,

rolling shit around,

first up one hill then down the next,

then up another hill,

continuously rolling and pushing and prodding

it across the ground.

What is the purpose of this rolling, and tolling

this incessant cajoling

of this excrement that falls into a perfect form;

a sphere of shit?

Well I guess you could look at it  this way

at the end of the day

I get to eat it.

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