I am old and fat and slow.
Even the breath leaving this body is stale,
leached of life by its torturous climb
from the flesh cavity of my chest,
up the worn trachea,
and into a mouth clinging to its teeth
like a shipwrecked sailor to driftwood.
Author: Chris Tullbane
Author of five books you can't yet buy and innumerable poems you may never read. :-)
Step 10: Profit
Late August is upon us, and if there was any good and justice left in the world, I’d be unveiling the cover for See These Bones and talking about the forthcoming release.
Narrator: There was no good and justice left in the world. Both had taken an ill-timed vacation to Mars. Don’t nuke Mars, Elon!
Instead, I’m still where I was last month, which says dire things about my anticipated fall release. In lieu of shiny book-related treats to share, I decided to instead whip up a guide to self-publishing, leveraging my vast stores of non-existent experience and a passing familiarity with the general concept of humor.
Poetry: Never Catching Up
I started with
the basic summary—
one wife, two jobs, no kids—
then added chapters to detail
the paths taken
since we last spoke,
but soon realized
I was boring even myself.
July Status Update
With literal hordes of grasshoppers descending upon Las Vegas like a biblical plague (minus the destruction), one thing is abundantly clear:
It’s time for another status update.
So let’s get to it!
Poetry: Six Geese A-Laying
When you were five
and so small you were
almost lost in your own jacket—
a bundle of bones
and two eyes so blue
they drowned out the summer sky—
you would recoil
from every loud noise on
the nearby street,
Poetry: Linear Degradation
I left for work this morning
but never came home.
The man they sent in my place was older,
weaker. He had a scar across his left
cheek and gray splotches in his hair.
Voice: It’s not just a TV show featuring that one tattooed dude
As one of the many residents of “Writer Twitter”, I participate in a fair number of writer-centric hashtag games. Some are great ways to introduce yourself to fellow authors, some provide an opportunity to dig into what makes your manuscript work (or not work), and others are just there for silly fun. Last week, #TheMerryWriter…
Poetry: Fever Dream, Part 2
Last night, I dreamed
that you were tossing back highballs
from a martini glass,
and when I pointed this out,
you slapped me,
and said everyone was doing it.
303 Days to the Apocalypse – A Traditional Publishing Rejection Timeline
Hello everyone, and welcome to (the last day of) April! I had plans (big plans!) to share a post today about character and finding your voice, but those plans were scuttled by the arrival of a long-awaited email from the agent I’d been talking with about See These Bones.
Long story short: she decided not to offer representation.
Instead of spending this post weeping into my (non-existent) beard, I wanted to share a timeline of the experience, from initial contact to ultimate rejection.
Poetry: The End of Sheep
I’ll count white hairs instead of sheep,
as there are more of them each day.
(How many more? I cannot say,
for when my counting climbs past ten…