Jesus Harvest Seeds
Holiday madness is upon us.
Somebody must have thought this was a good idea. I don’t think so. Candy corn is now Jesus Harvest Seeds, at least if you buy them in this package. “Scripture on every individual packet!” I wonder if one of them is “Jesus wept.”
Maybe the second shortest verse in the modern Bible should be “Jesus has sold.” Or, “Jesus has been sold.”
Jesus and “Harvest Seeds.”
Filed under 2015, holiday, Say what?!
Boo to you, too.
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Penny and a pen: /
discovered predawn treasures, /
abandoned futures.
Filed under 2015, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Source: http://www.writersdigest.com/writers-digest-competitions/poetry-awards?et_mid=793214&rid=239626420
This way to the contest.
Prizes
One First Place Winner will receive:
The Second Place Winner will receive:
The Third Place Winner will receive:
Fourth through Tenth Place Winners will receive:
How to Enter
Register online: https://app.wizehive.com/apps/WDPoetry2015
Additional information: http://www.writersdigest.com/writers-digest-competitions/poetry-awards?et_mid=793214&rid=239626420
Filed under 2015, writing tip, Writing Tip Wednesday
If Willard liked how the trick-or-treater was dressed, he would give the goblin two poems.
Roses are read; /
Violets are blue. /
Candy is sweet, /
but this poem is, too.
Filed under 2015, cartoon by author, CarToonsday
There once was a writer in bookstore /
Who could not find his books anymore. /
When he inquired about his place, /
They said, “Limited shelf space.” /
And pointed to remainders outside the door.
***
Deja Moo: The feeling that you’ve heard this bull before
Filed under 2015, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
Not exactly a household name, she attracted fans and detractors.
http://motherboard.vice.com/read/woman-who-reviewed-31000-books-on-amazon-dies
Harriet Klausner is not exactly a household name. But in the weird subculture of Amazon reviewers, she was either a legend or a legendarily bad shill. Klausner amassed more than 31,000 reviews of books under one username, seeming to sell just as many on Half.com after she finished them. Now Klausner, a former librarian and self-proclaimed speedreader, is reportedly dead at age 63.
The Age of the Internet review.
The three paragraph reviews often introduced a plot summary (often inaccurately) for the first two paragraphs before a brief summary of praise, and a four or five star review. Many of the reviews were of mass market romance books and other pulp genres. Many reviews cropped up on the day the book was released, with many of the books showing up on her son’s Half.com account before the actual release date, according to a blog post of the cheekily named Harriet Klausner Appreciation Society (which was anything but.) This led to allegations that the reviews were planted and paid for.
Read the rest: http://motherboard.vice.com/read/woman-who-reviewed-31000-books-on-amazon-dies
A posting in Time magazine from 2006.
http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1570726,00.html
Without the web, Harriet Klausner would be just an ordinary human being with an extraordinary talent. Instead she is one of the world’s most prolific and influential book reviewers. At 54, Klausner, a former librarian from Georgia, has posted more book reviews on Amazon.com than any other user—12,896, as of this writing, almost twice as many as her nearest competitor. That’s a book a day for 35 years.
Klausner isn’t paid to do this. She’s just, as she puts it, “a freaky kind of speed-reader.” In elementary school, her teacher was shocked when Klausner handed in a 31⁄2-hour reading-comprehension test in less than an hour. Now she goes through four to six books a day. “It’s incomprehensible to me that most people read only one book a week,” she says. “I don’t understand how anyone can read that slow.” All TIME 100 Best Novels
Klausner is part of a quiet revolution in the way American taste gets made. The influence of newspaper and magazine critics is on the wane. People don’t care to be lectured by professionals on what they should read or listen to or see. They’re increasingly likely to pay attention to amateur online reviewers, bloggers and Amazon critics like Klausner. Online critics have a kind of just-plain-folks authenticity that the professionals just can’t match. They’re not fancy. They don’t have an agenda. They just read for fun, the way you do. Publishers treat Klausner as a pro, sending her free books—50 a week—in hopes of getting her attention. Like any other good critic, Klausner has her share of enemies. “Harriet, please get a life,” someone begged her on a message board, “and leave us poor Amazon customers alone.”
Klausner is a bookworm, but she’s no snob. She likes genre fiction: romance, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, horror. One of Klausner’s lifetime goals—as yet unfulfilled—is to read every vampire book ever published. “I love vampires and werewolves and demons,” she says. “Maybe I like being spooked.” Maybe she’s a little bit superhuman herself.
Read the rest: http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1570726,00.html
[Writer’s note: What began as a writing prompt — photo and first paragraph — has become at least the start of a story. I will endeavor to add short sections to it, at lest as long as there is some interest. It might be a little rough in parts, but that’s because it is coming “hot off the press,” which could be part of the fun of it. In the meantime, you are free to jump off from any part of this story thus far and write your own version. Click Holly’s Corner below to get Parts 1 – 4.]
by David E. Booker
I felt a little heat come into my ears.
“How cute,” Tricia said, her eyesight back to normal.
“Glad I could entertain.”
I turned and walked up to bar to order a sandwich. Diving into the mud and straddling a 2×6 had left me wet and hungry. The wet part would have to resolve itself with time. The hunger part I could do something about.
“I’ll have a Ricky Ricardo,” I said. “Don’t tell Lucy.”
The young woman behind the counter had a rainbow of colors in her hair, and if perplexed could be a color, she had that one on her face.
I made my glass of tea and found where Tricia was sitting. It was in a booth that looked out one of the front windows. On the window was painted a pig carrying a rolling pin and words underneath about bacon being a salvation. Beyond the pig was the outside world, the sidewalk where I had taken my dive, and the rain that continued its drumming on the world. My client had had a front row seat to my brush with a rolling pin.
It was a cool, rainy day down at Holly’s Corner.
“That was my sister that threatened you.”
I didn’t bother correcting the second that. “She doesn’t look anything like you.”
“Well … technically she’s my step-sister. My dad remarried after my mom died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tricia shrugged. I was two when mom died. Don’t remember much about her. My step-mom was the only mom I really knew, and she was okay … when she wasn’t drinking. And I’m afraid my sister has inherited her predilection.”
I raised an eyebrow slightly. I was impressed that Tricia knew what predilection meant and wasn’t afraid to use it.
My sandwich arrived. I had snagged a bottle of hot sauce from the small round table nearby. The sandwich was cut into two pieces. I lifted the top off one half and added some of the sauce. Tricia winced.
“Don’t like hot sauce?”
“You’re ruining the chef’s work.”
“The chef doesn’t put enough heat on my Ricky.”
Tricia slumped back in her booth seat. There was a slight frown on her face, which only served to make her look even more attractive. She was almost too pretty: blond hair, thin, big teeth, large blue eyes. The wrinkles made her look more human, more accessible, at least to a shlub like me.
“You’re right,” she said. She reached forward and fiddled with her paper napkin.
“Tell you what. I’ll eat the other half as is. As it was made by the chef.”
(To be continued.)
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Story by author
Finally found me? /
You say you knew me back when, /
but I was not lost.
Filed under 2015, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
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