I am about to read a book called ‘The Ninth Crypt’,
A novel I acquired for twenty dollars at the supermarket
But fear I may have made a grave mistake:
Browsing through the blurb I see mention of only
The ninth crypt, all well and good, but what about
The other eight? Perhaps the author is planning prequels
Based on the success of this volume but seeing he is
Now a septuagenarian who came to writing late,
This is most unlikely; perhaps if I bury myself deeply
in the text I shall disinter enough cryptic clues
To keep me happy — but at 800 pages !!! I await
Clarification; in the meantime this tombstone of a novel
Shall stand on my shelf of great unread books.
h ave you got any big unread books on your bookshelf? photo by Grangeburn on Pinterest
Many creative writing classes and manuals will stress the importance of the first sentence, that it must grab the reader’s attention. Even Hemingway espoused this fallacy. But the first sentence is never enough.
Yes, it must grab the reader’s attention, If it doesn’t the reader will go elsewhere. There are plenty of options — but if the second sentence is flaccid, all will be lost. The second sentence fulfills the promise of the first.
But it is the third sentence that seals the deal. The third sentence assures the reader that the writer is authentic, that they are worth listening to, that they have something to say and have the command of language to say it with flair and authority. They can be trusted.
After that the writer will be ‘in full swing’. The reader will be committed; will go along for the ride.
Ever think about pockets? the post asked.
Whenever I buy clothes, I say, I always think pockets.
Two pockets. Roomy, Capacious, Like the report said.
The top left for the wallet, the right for the mobile so I can whip it out like a gun from a holster and do a Covid Safe check-in.
.If someone buys me a shirt with no pockets I won’t wear it.
If someone buys me a shirt with one pocket, I might.
Sometimes you gotta compromise.
Trousers too. Two hands, Two pockets.
It doesn’t get much simpler than that.
I like to walk around sometimes with my hands in my pockets.
It helps me think.
I’ve got a dressing gown with one pocket. What am I supposed to do
with the other hand??
I’ve heard that shrouds have NO pockets.
I don’t intend dying anytime soon.
g oogle Roadtirement Blog for the post and video
I have just written a poem.
I read it to my granddaughter.
“Hey! Great last line,” she says.
“But what about the rest of the poem?” I say.
“Great last line”
I go back to the poem.
Read it a few times.
It is a great last line.
So what I do is this: I jettison the rest of the poem and keep
the last line,
I read it a few times.
I read it to her.
I read it again.
It seems to lack something,” she says.
So I put the poem back together like it was and read it to her.
“Great last line,” she says.
I am re-badging my blog from a muted rural setting to a cheeky,
a bird with balls, moxie,
Marching to his own beat, on his own path.
A Stand-up comic
a delver of the Absurd.
Not a morose follower of the herd.
No, this ostrich will not bury his head in the sand.
This bird will bray,
He’s my mouthpiece. Listen to his words.
I am staring down the barrels of
the red pencil sharpener
big as drainpipes
fat as full moons
flared like the nostrils
O-shaped mouths hungry
The red pencil sharpener sharpens