Category Archives: limerick

There once was a man with waders

There once was a man with waders
Who thought he might find him some gators
down at his creek,
where the trash did seep
left often by unkind invaders.

Man in waders

Man trying on waders, getting ready for First Creek Greenway Cleanup, Saturday, September 24th, 9 AM to noon,

It was Saturday, September 24th
when the man and his friends set a course.
from nine until noon
and not a moment too soon
to put an end to this trashy discourse.

So come to First Creek and discover
“treasures” left by some unkind others:
shopping carts and flat tires,
pay phones, couches, and wires
and stuff that the creek tries to smother.

Bring tools and gloves for your hands;
pick up trash for as long as you can.
Once done, we will eat
Magpies cupcakes, Three Rivers treats
and be glad we helped the creek and the land.

Magpies cupcakes

Magpies cupcakes and Three Rivers Market treats will be served up after the cleanup.

Leave a comment

Filed under cleanup, creek, First Creek, fun, Greenway, humor, limerick, Magpies, Old North Knoxville, poem, poetry, story poem, Three Rivers Market, trash, waders, water, word play, words, writing

The pitches

Killer Nashville badge

Killer Nashville badge

Below are two of my pitches. I used the The Painted Beast pitch on all the agents and editors I talked with at Killer Nashville. I was able to use The Small Resurrection pitch once or twice.

Two pieces of advice, one I have said before: Practice the pitch and make it as natural as you can. Two: Think of a pitch as a spoken version of the back-cover blurb you read on many paperback books.

The Painted Beast

Ex-cop Stephen York was once a hero. Decorated and lionized from uncovering corruption in the police department and bringing down a criminal enterprise, he now works two or three menial jobs in order to hold body and soul together, not only for himself but also his thirteen-year-old step-daughter and eight-year-old daughter. One night his ex-wife, who has escaped from prison, returns home and terrorizes him. He escapes from her and she from him, but shortly thereafter she kidnaps their daughters. In order to save them, Stephen has to kill her, which puts him under suspicion for murder and under the thumb of a police detective who has personal as well as professional reasons for wanting to grind Stephen down further. In addition, his step-daughter’s biological father steps forward to kidnap her with the intention of leading her into a life of child pornography and prostitution in order to get money to help re-establish the criminal empire that Stephen had helped take down. This time, in order to save his step-daughter, Stephen, who has not been a particularly good father, has to offer his life in order to save his step-daughter’s. In so doing, he learns another definition of hero. At its core this novel’s theme asks and answers the question: Can a fallen hero be a hero again?

Limerick version:
There once was an ex-cop who did poorly
At being a father and what’s more he
Killed his ex-wife,
Then offered up his life
To save his daughter from a life in pornography.

***

A Small Resurrection

Is believing in what you see the same thing as seeing what you believe in?

Knoxville, Tennessee, is the last place T. Xavier Gabriel wants to be. But the director of the 8th highest grossing film in Hollywood has come to town to ask his ex-wife for forbearance in paying the large alimony and possibly also for a loan to help restart his fallen career. She, however, has other plans. She wants him to

Pitching your novel

Use conversational voice when talking about your novel

rescue their 22-year-old daughter from the undue influences of a 24-year-old evangelical preacher. Gabriel wants nothing to do with that, having already admitted to be a failure once as a father, he doesn’t want a second bite of the apple. But when he finds his daughter keeping company with a resurrected Rod Serling, he sees a chance to use this Serling look-alike to resurrect his own career. But getting Serling away from his daughter puts her in jeopardy, and Gabriel must decide if he is going to save her or save his career. To save her, he must enlist the aid of Serling, who is not quite sure who he is or why he has been resurrected, and in saving her he puts an end ever resurrecting his career.

Limerick version:
There once was a director named Gabriel
Whose life was a broken down fable
Then along came Rod Serling
And an offer so sterling
That it could save Gabe if he was able.

Two final notes:
1) The limerick versions were not something I pitched, though I thought about it. It was my way of have a pitch that could be done in 15 seconds or less.

2) Some pitch advice says you need to have antecedents as part of your pitch. Antecedents are novels that are like yours. Something similar to your novel. This is supposed to show that you know about your novel’s market and where it might fit. While I had that prepared for The Painted Beast, it did not seem to be something those I pitched to at Killer Nashville were interested in. That could have been a mistake on my part. But I had the feeling that these agents wanted to be the ones to decide where it belongs.

Leave a comment

Filed under advice, agents, characters, Killer Nashville, limerick, Perils of writing, pitches, publishers, story, the perils of writing, words, writing, writing conference, writing tip

The Painted Beast

There once was an ex-cop who did poorly
At being a father and what’s more he
Killed his ex-wife
But then offered up his life
To save his daughter from a life in pornography.

[Editor’s note: this is a distillation of my novel The Painted Beast into a short limerick form. It does not capture all the twists and turns of the novel, but if I had to describe at least one main feature of it in 50 words or less, this would probably do.]

1 Comment

Filed under limerick, poem, poetry, story, words, writing

And out will waltz a little girl to Strauss

But at night in that big ol’ house,
When everybody’s in bed, even a mouse,
The portmanteau will open,
As if magic words were spoken,
And out will waltz a little girl to Strauss.

#The End#

Leave a comment

Filed under characters, hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing

To guess at what happened or posit

Now the portmanteau sits in a closet
Like a gift awaiting a deposit.
The once-Lady from Kent
Won’t even relent
To guess at what happened or posit.

Leave a comment

Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing

The suitcase he called a valise

The old man looked like Sleaze,
Wearing a brown coat against the breeze.
He shook his head slow
And wouldn’t let go
Of the suitcase he called “a valise.”

Leave a comment

Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing

For something he didn’t know

She searched the island high and low,
Finding it with an old man moving slow.
She said it was an heirloom,
That a thief tried to make room
In his life for something he didn’t know.

Leave a comment

Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story, story poem, word play, words, writing

What happened after the suitcase event

There once was a Lady from Kent
Down to Haiti she went.
About her portmanteau
She did not know
What happened after the suitcase event.

Leave a comment

Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story, story poem, words, writing

And how he was there, then absent

One day the police sergeant
Whiling away on the Internet,
Saw photos of Haiti
About a man called Crazy
And how he was there, then absent.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing

Into the abyss it piled

Portmanteau struggled through the wild
Opened its mouth and ate the child.
Leaping the wide divide,
It ate Sleaze on that side,
Then into the abyss it piled.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing