Love is the response /
To the question that is you. /
Forever is my heart.
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author, The response
White clouds arch upward,
brushing the lips of heaven.
Pleasantries exchanged.
[Editor’s note. With only a few words to work with, I decided I needed something a little more evocative than “the.” that lead me to try several things, including white. For the moment, I have decided upon white. But maybe you can think of some other work that might work better for you. Maybe, “the” works better for you. That is the beauty of writing: there can be variations.]
Filed under clouds arch, haiku, poem, poetry by author
The clouds arch upward,
brushing the lips of heaven.
Pleasantries exchanged.
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author
The blathering idiot ponders time keeping.
Filed under blathering idiot, cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Next time, I’ll just say E = mc2.
I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. Just the other day I attended a party, and when somebody asked me what I did, I said I was a writer. He immediately began telling me his story that would “make a wonderful novel. So, I’ll tell it to you, you writer it up, and we’ll split the profits.”
Next time I go to a party and somebody asks me what I do for a living, I’ll say I’m a physicist. Nobody goes up to a physicist and says, “I have a wonderful theory. I’ll tell it to you, you write it down and put in all that math, and we’ll split the profits and the Nobel Prize.”
Filed under cartoon by author, no respect, writer, writing humor
I gaze to the west.
A sign of light not yet done.
The moon dreams of you.
Filed under haiku, love, Moon dreams, poem, poetry by author
By Rachelle Gardner
Source: http://www.rachellegardner.com/2012/06/13-things-you-may-not-know-about-agents/
1. We really hate getting bad news and we hate sharing it with you, but we trust you’re adult enough to handle it.
2. If we say we don’t want to submit a particular project to editors, we’re probably trying to protect both of our reputations (the writer’s and the agent’s).
3. While many of us do a great deal of editing and polishing of your manuscripts and/or proposals, the bottom line is that it’s the writer’s job to provide a marketable book. Agents shouldn’t be counted on to make it sales-ready.
4. We are very invested in your book and often feel like it’s “our baby” too (even though we KNOW it’s yours!)
5. If it seems like we’re too busy, it’s because the economics of this industry demand we carry a certain amount of volume to make a living wage.
6. We prioritize taking care of current clients above the search for new clients. So typically, queries and writer’s conferences take a back seat.
7. We really are interested in your long-term career, not just the size of the next advance.
8. We hate the slowness of publishing just as much as you do!
9. We want to set you up with the publisher and editor who will be best for you, not just the one who’s offering the most money.
10. When we’ve tried to sell your book but we’re not successful, we’re probably almost as disappointed as you. Not only are we often emotionally invested, we’ve put in a lot of time for no paycheck.
11. When you send us a manuscript to read, we don’t do it during the work day. We read in the evenings (our “free time”) and on the weekends. With Kindles and iPads, we may even be reading your manuscript on the treadmill at the gym.
12. We’re aware of all the new options for writers these days, and we’re doing our best to help steer each client in the right direction.
13. If your writing career keeps you awake at night, there’s a good chance it has kept us awake on occasion, too.
Filed under agents, Rachelle Gardner, writing tip
If desire were a moment,
I’d beg time to stand still
and I would fill it with memories of
You.
Filed under love, poem, poetry by author, You
The blathering idiot and Zoey had decided to see other people. Well, Zoey had announced she was going to see other people. The blathering idiot saw other people every day, but that was not what Zoey meant. Reluctantly, he tried getting dates. Less than reluctantly, the women refused, some politely, some derisively, some laughing so hard they had tears streaming down their cheeks and nothing else to say. And those that did say something polite usually said that it was not about him, but about her.
Eventually, the blathering idiot turned to dating web sites such as “Oui, Hook U Up,” or OHUUP for short. Their tag line was: “We put the We back in Oui.”
For several weeks he logged in, and talked with several women, exchanging e-mails, photos, even details of things liked and things he wanted to do and try. But he was not able to get a date. At the last minute, they would have a reason why they couldn’t meet, even for coffee or a soda.
But they did keep suggesting he sign up for the Platinum Oui for a Week Club, guaranteed to get him Oui more attention.
He didn’t have the extra money for the POW Club.
He was feeling down, wondering what he was doing wrong, when he ran across Xenia at the downtown library. She was there with some of her friends and somebody other than her mother Zoey watching over them.
She asked how he was. He told her.
“Mom’s meeting some guy she met online.”
The blathering idiot nodded.
“Though I think she really misses you.”
In some ways, he missed Xenia more than Zoey.
“I think those web sites are bogus.”
He nodded.
“I have a friend whose dad tried several of them. He told my mom he was about to fly over to Russia to meet one he had chatted with online. But he began to wonder and after chatting with a few other women from the same site realized he had been talking to some sort of computer program.”
“Really?”
Xenia nodded.
“Said he was embarrassed to admit it, but didn’t want her making the same mistake. Said he thought about reporting them, but then looked at ‘that legal stuff’ he called it on the site and it said something about using staff members and bots to enhance customer satisfaction.”
Some things are a (key) stoke of luck and some things are a (key) stroke of genius, and then some things are a (key) stroke too far.
When the blathering idiot got back to his computer, he logged into the web site, found his inbox had sixteen “oui notes” waiting for him.
Instead of reading them, he pulled up that “legal stuff” and though it was dull and at times difficult reading, he did find a section that read:
“OHUUP may, in its sole discretion, cause or allow you to be contacted by one or more Super Oui Profiles (“SOP”, “SOPs”) as a part of its “SOP” feature. A SOP may represent a person employed by OHUUP or an affiliate of OHUUP or an automated digital actor created by OHUUP. Nothing contained in an SOP is intended to describe or resemble any real person, and is included on the Website only for the personal enjoyment or entertainment of Users.
“Furthermore, SOPs are used to enhance your online experience, by (for example) stimulating communications with other Users, by introducing you to new or existing features of the Service, or by encouraging active participation on the Website. SOPs may also be used to monitor User activities and communications to ensure compliance with these Terms. In the event that the User responds to a communication from a SOP, the User may, but is not guaranteed to, receive one or more additional communications from such SOPs. Any communication between you and a SOP is for your personal enjoyment or entertainment….”
There was more, but he had read enough.
Another oui note showed up. And another. He glanced at them. Then he realized there must be some mistake. Something was amiss, or not really a miss. Somehow, he was mistakenly getting some woman’s “oui notes.” In this case, the blathering idiot decided, it was a not a bot her, but a bot him.
Filed under blathering idiot, cartoon by author, Internet dating
The sun in your smile
makes a moon of the moments
I think about you.
[Editor’s note: due to the power being out several times for several hours each time in the past couple of days due to power line repair, what I had planned to post is being postponed. Instead, you will be treated to a little more haiku poetry.]
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author, Upon reflection
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