This is a guest blog I wrote for Jenniely Reads. A big thank you to her for allowing me to write something for her Newbie Blogger Spotlight. I hope you enjoy, Arcians.
Check out the article here.
Hi Arcians and internet wanderers. Tell me, what book are you reading right now? Leave a quick comment below and we can share our books together.
My current read is below. While you’re here, want to enter a creative writing contest? No winners or losers this week, just old fashioned fun with the imagination. And yes, that rhymed.
Want to take a crack at making cats shriek in horror at the very thought of you reading a poem? Then go here, my fine feathered friend, and may the pencil be sharpened in your favor.
My entry is below.
…what would you buy? And why?
Leave your response down below. And while you’re here, stick around and think of becoming an Arcian and hit that subscribe button. Ker-kaw!
Author: “I don’t like being around actors, musicians, anybody on a stage. They’re wonderful, yes, but don’t talk to me, look at me or touch me.”
Saint: “Yes. Don’t break that fourth wall.”
Author: “Yes! Exactly. Well put. Don’t break that barrier between you and me.”
Saint: “You can say, and if you break the fourth wall, my fist will break through it, too.”
This week’s theme is Terrible Managers. Join the fun at Chelsea Ann’s webpage and remember–the poem is supposed to be terrible. She’s serious about that and I’m actually trying to get worse.
My entry is below. Huzzah!
The curtain rustles and Mr. Swinebottom sticks his head out through a parting, appearing quite abruptly. For a moment, he appears to be a floating head, his rounded spectacles flashing against the stage lighting eerily. He gathers himself and walks through the parting, dusting off the invisible lint on his pressed pants and tail coat.
“Ladies and gentleman, I know we’re currently in the middle of “The Tale of the Terrible Traffic”, but for your viewing pleasure tonight, we’ll be adding a special vignette to this evening’s intermission. With us backstage is the saint–or as you know, the author’s spouse. He will be debuting with us tonight. So please, gather your wits, or what you have left of them, sit back and prepare to be…entertained…”
An orchestra underneath the stage erupts into a fanfare of trumpeting and cymbals. Mr. Swinebottom jumps and runs to his stool for safety, startled by the sudden appearance of live music. He glares at the blog writer and flicks on his reading lamp curtly, mumbling about dirty tricks and a lack of respect for artists. He adjusts his spectacles tightly and readies his script.
“Our story begins on one cold, November evening…”