tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53064754002122155932024-03-14T01:49:27.567-04:00Candlesticks and CadaversHome of JM Scott, author, poet and freelance writer.
Featuring: Contemporary Speculative Fiction, Poetry, Thoughts on the Writing Life, Personal Anecdotes, and Opinion Articles
JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.comBlogger465125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-86937741251710802792019-12-24T12:12:00.001-05:002019-12-24T12:12:12.206-05:00The End of This ChapterI suppose that it seems rather fitting that with a week of this decade and this year that I say goodbye.<br />
<br />
Not permanently. To this persona. It is time for a bit of rebranding- reinvention. Some distance from where I have been and who I was.<br />
<br />
I can't stop being a writer. I don't know how to be anything else.<br />
<br />
In these years, I have learned a lot about being an independent author. From publishing, book design, editing, proofing, and promoting.<br />
<br />
Santa I would like a promoter and editor for Christmas- just saying. And if you're feeling more generous- an advertising budget.<br />
<br />
As I move forward, I am taking the pieces of what worked in the past and put them together. I am going to take my time with line by line editing because there is one thing I learned and every independent author should know this-<br />
<br />
You will be crucified for imperfection. One comma out of place and hellfire will rain down in the comments. However, big-time authors who have<b> people</b> who do line by line editing also make mistakes and miss a comma here or there are given a pass. You will never see comments to the contrary. Just keep that in mind.<br />
<br />
The books will always remain for sale. This blog will always be here because there are some good poems and stories. But there will be no new items from JM Scott. There will be no advertising. Occasionally, there may be free books. But in the end-<br />
<br />
This is goodbye. JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-10058140429173345272019-06-18T23:49:00.002-04:002019-06-18T23:49:45.180-04:00Seaspring Briar by JM Scott Free in all Kindle Markets Through June 22, 2019 <a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-mplsmZNc0/VkaBmz6F1PI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/Z_TDL9YooqkR8GyuTRq6mrBSiARSWOc3gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/51drZHxNnsL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-mplsmZNc0/VkaBmz6F1PI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/Z_TDL9YooqkR8GyuTRq6mrBSiARSWOc3gCPcBGAYYCw/s320/51drZHxNnsL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B017DRI2KW">Seaspring Briar</a>, a horror short story, is free in all Kindle markets through June 22, 2019.<br />
<br />
Recent divorcee, Briar Rowen moves into her family home on the Maine coast. But the original residents have never left. The hauntings start as benign but then escalate until people die. Can Briar stop the cycle or become a permanent resident herself.<br />
<br />
A scene in this book actually came from a dream, a nightmare actually. Someone gets his head sawed off by a giant sun sculpture like the one pictured on the cover. It turns on its side and spins like a giant saw blade. The head comes off easily. Imagine having that has a nightmare. It's something that doesn't leave you and the image sticks with you.<br />
<br />
I never said I had a normal brain.<br />
<br />
Grab your free copy today and leave a review. If you can't leave a review because you don't spend enough money on Amazon, feel free to write something on my <a href="http://facebook.com/writerjmscott">Facebook</a> page. <br />
<br />
Till next time...<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-24795540865256928112019-06-04T21:33:00.000-04:002019-06-04T21:33:01.038-04:00Paper Dolls Broken suns splice tree branches<br />
into shadows<br />
and I’m left standing here<br />
on this plane<br />
of eternal autumn,<br />
to find sanctuary,<br />
careful not to make contact,<br />
a ripple that no one sees<br />
and afraid of fear, acceptance<br />
To be charismatic and beatific<br />
is to be found in teeth.<br />
and pure bliss?<br />
Only exists in my imagination.<br />
<br />
So in this nightmare<br />
I drown in the Xi over and over again<br />
looking for a friend<br />
but will settle for a savior. Glory in the saved.<br />
Behold, there’s more! There’s always more<br />
<br />
The time is now to destroy and renew<br />
fire intertwined with ice<br />
passion shimmering false-<br />
fool’s gold, zirconia<br />
love affair with daydreams.<br />
<br />
Through the tempest<br />
the incendiary revocation<br />
leaves my fingers bleeding<br />
fire, jealousy, sadness<br />
invites the intrusion<br />
of a voice<br />
who wants a home made of paper<br />
and says <i>Maybe I could love</i><br />
<i>somebody who never said ‘I love you’</i><br />
<br />
Haunted by all those voices<br />
yet alone<br />
to build<br />
serendipitous sand castles on the sun<br />
while the moon falls apart<br />
takes back its magic<br />
and takes me back<br />
to nowhere and nothing. JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-69775935448663249592019-05-29T20:51:00.000-04:002019-05-29T20:51:13.918-04:00Shadow Weaver Don’t enter the canal<br />
where the golden gondolas<br />
drift in murky water<br />
mosquitoes gallop<br />
malaria races through their<br />
frail long-legged bodies<br />
Egyptian cotton in the pillows<br />
pink pills on the satin sheets<br />
the smoking moon sleeps in cobwebs<br />
with ladybugs who should be gone.<br />
<br />
And this is<br />
where autumn turns<br />
to summer heat<br />
black lipstick on the cheek<br />
those yesterdays are just an update<br />
ants in the glass.<br />
<br />
Welcome to here<br />
sign your name and watch all the stars go out<br />
blackness eats<br />
away from the canal<br />
to the lilies where freedom breathes<br />
phosphorescent daydreams<br />
deja vu at the table<br />
<br />
it’s an all-out surrender to shadows<br />
come on and feel their embrace<br />
feel the flight in murky water fingers<br />
let them breath stale whispers<br />
and follow the light homeJM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-71991548985503679662019-05-28T21:22:00.000-04:002019-05-28T21:22:44.257-04:00Sweet Dreamland Wheels by JM Scott Free in all Kindle Markets Through June 1, 2019<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDaHUr8eeZo/VW3JTiWuBFI/AAAAAAAAATE/PxXTZ0nJ87EyNUMtpGklPbQk2TSiLMTKwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/61AwtIOlUjL._SY344_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="231" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDaHUr8eeZo/VW3JTiWuBFI/AAAAAAAAATE/PxXTZ0nJ87EyNUMtpGklPbQk2TSiLMTKwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/61AwtIOlUjL._SY344_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="213" /></a>Hey all, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YO77C5G">Sweet Dreamland Wheels</a> is FREE in all Kindle markets through June 1, 2019. This is a collection of found and/or experimental poems.<br />
<br />
As I was grabbing the link for the book, I realized this book was turning 4 this June. It seems a lot longer than that. But I think I move on a different timeline than other people. At least it seems like it.<br />
<br />
So here's a free sample from the book where I used HP Lovecraft as a source text.<br />
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<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-61210247741752031742019-05-22T22:15:00.001-04:002019-05-22T22:17:21.340-04:00Binary <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/ribkhan-380399/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3249062" style="color: #333333; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px;">Muhammad Ribkhan</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3249062" style="color: #333333; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px !important;">Pixabay</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; white-space: nowrap;"> </span></td></tr>
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To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: Unknown Sender<br />
Subject: Remember Ringing Rocks<br />
<br />
Hey babe,<br />
<br />
I hope you didn’t delete. I don’t think you would. Hell, maybe you don’t even use this email anymore. How long has it been? It feels like yesterday to me. I was there in the May sunshine laying in your arms and then a pain that started small and then my brain exploded or that’s what it felt like. I don’t really know how else to explain it. I know I’m dead and chances are I wouldn’t open this email either if the roles were reversed. But I guess I would because of Ringing Rocks.<br />
<br />
Did you find a new woman? I hope so. I don’t want you pining away for me. I’m dead. I know this. I wish I could see you. But it’s not like the stories. This heaven, if you want to call it that. I can’t see anything. Even writing this required a freak solar storm. And for a brief moment, I saw how the world changed. I don’t know the current year. I don’t see anything. I don’t feel anything but I hear voices.<br />
<br />
I don’t know how much time I have. I wish I could give you more answers. But remember the old family story about the gold pieces that my great grandpappy stole from Blue Beard and he buried it somewhere. It’s true. Great Grandpappy said it was. JD, go to the old farmhouse walk east to the woods and there is a tree that looks like a Y. Under the roots is the chest. Take it JD and be happy. I’m here waiting for you.<br />
<br />
Love you,<br />
G.<br />
<br />
To: bigballz@hotmail.com<br />
From: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: Help!<br />
<br />
I think I’m going crazy. I just got an email from Greta. It has to be a glitch right?<br />
<br />
To: elise.johnson@meadows.org<br />
From: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: Need to talk to you!<br />
<br />
Dr. Johnson,<br />
<br />
It’s urgent that I speak with you right away. I am seriously losing my mind. You said I was getting better, but I can’t be. I just got an email from Greta. It’s got to be a sick joke right. I tried to make an appointment but the soonest you can see me in is in July. Could you spare a few minutes and call me? Please, I’m desperate.<br />
<br />
JD Varas<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
from: bigballz@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: Greta<br />
<br />
Why don’t we go? The woods are still there. What would it hurt? Buddy, you need closure Greta’s gone now for five years. I’m worried about you. I rented a car for this weekend. I’ll pick you up at 9 and we’re going to get this treasure.<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: elise.johnson@ meadows.org<br />
<br />
JD,<br />
<br />
I have been trying to call you for days. I am worried about you. As you know, grief changes a person. I am afraid that our offices were hacked and someone is playing a sick joke on you. I am worried that it is someone trying to do something nefarious and you take the blame. I have alerted the police.<br />
<br />
Please call. I told my assistant to schedule you right away, even after hours.<br />
<br />
Dr. Elise Johnson<br />
<br />
To: bigballz@hotmail.com<br />
From: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: This weekend.<br />
<br />
I’m not going this weekend. I talked to my shrink and someone is playing a joke on me. That’s what she said.<br />
<br />
In a way, I was really hoping Greta wrote. I want to believe that she is not really gone. Is that really so wrong? I’m trying to get over her. But nothing I do works. She’s everywhere. She’s in all the clothes I wear, all the furniture I sit on, the bed I sleep on. I swear I see her shape in the shadows.<br />
<br />
The shrink is upping my meds. We’ll see how it goes.<br />
<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: bigballz@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: You ain’t ditching me.<br />
<br />
If I have to hog tie you and throw you in the trunk, then so be it. You need this. You need to get out. You need to do something. Greta wouldn’t want you wallowing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: penny.micheals@eandm.com<br />
Subject: Blue Beards coins<br />
<br />
Good afternoon JD,<br />
<br />
Sorry, it took me so long to get back to you. The coin you gave me has been authenticated and it appears to be from the right time frame of Blue Beard’s missing treasure. This is an incredible find. Are you looking for someone appraise the collection for insurance or for sale?<br />
<br />
We need the entire collection for a full appraisal. If you want to sell, the appraisal is free. For insurance, the appraisal will cost $540. This includes related paperwork.<br />
<br />
Thank you for letting touch this wonderful piece of American history. I look forward to hearing from you and seeing more of the collection.<br />
<br />
Take care,<br />
Penny<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: bigballz@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: Treasure<br />
<br />
What are you going to do with the rest of the treasure? Are you going to keep it or sell it?<br />
<br />
You didn’t have to give me any. But... I bought the garage with the money. I’ll be opening Cuztomz next month. I have a huge party planned. You will be there, right. Strike that. You will be there. It’s all because of you I get to open this shop anyway.<br />
<br />
I don’t think I could ever repay you.<br />
<br />
To: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
from: penny.micheals@eandm.com<br />
Subject: Final paperwork<br />
<br />
Good morning JD,<br />
<br />
The sale is complete and we need to come in to sign the final paperwork. The cashier’s check is also available for pick up.<br />
<br />
Take care,<br />
<br />
Penny.<br />
<br />
<br />
To: bigballz@hotmail.com<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
From: jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
Subject: I’ll be there.<br />
<br />
I don’t think I could ever repay you for all that you did for me over the few last years. Without you, I don’t know where I would be. And I know you hate mushy shit. I just thought you should know.<br />
<br />
You’re like a brother to me. And you’re right finding the treasure has brought me closure with Greta. And you’re right, she wouldn’t want me wallowing.<br />
<br />
I think I am going to try living again. I’m going to start with your grand opening party. Could you maybe have a chick set up for me? I need to stop using my hand. I need to live once again.<br />
<br />
To:jdvaras@hotmail.com<br />
From: tshad@cammyshouse.org<br />
Subject: Thank You!<br />
<br />
Dear Mr. Varas,<br />
<br />
From all of us at Cammy’s House, we want to thank you for your generous donation of $1.5 million dollars. With this money, we will be building a new shelter and naming it after your late wife, Greta Varas. In addition, scholarships will be set up to assist battered women to better themselves.<br />
<br />
You probably hear this all the time. But Greta was amazing. So beautiful, so much strength. When she met you, I remembered how she seemed to float. And she was so scared because of her first husband. But we all knew you were different. I wanted to call so many times, but I never knew what to say. I miss Greta every day. She has touched so many women here at the shelter. She was the inspiration for all our women that they could do better and make it in this world. And I know it wasn’t fair that she was taken from you, from us, from this world.<br />
<br />
If you ever want to talk, just call.<br />
<br />
Take care, JD.<br />
<br />
Tabby ShadJM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-88387133623515212322019-05-20T21:51:00.000-04:002019-05-20T21:51:27.976-04:00Heart of a Goddess by JM Scott free Through May 22, 2019<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePumhK1Itbs/UxxxeKzXNpI/AAAAAAAAAHs/YBp5knZnluYt6KDCKboiIOCe4XFWzigJgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/internet%2Bheart%2Bof%2Ba%2Bgoddess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="250" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePumhK1Itbs/UxxxeKzXNpI/AAAAAAAAAHs/YBp5knZnluYt6KDCKboiIOCe4XFWzigJgCPcBGAYYCw/s320/internet%2Bheart%2Bof%2Ba%2Bgoddess.jpg" width="200" /></a>Hey all, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BRWJAJM">Heart of a Goddess</a> is FREE in all Kindle markets through May 22, 2019. <br />
<br />
Story in a nutshell: Leonard is looking love and he thinks he finds it when he rescues a half-naked woman in a snowstorm. She promises him the world if he brings her one thing- a beating human heart. <br />
<br />
This is also the first book I ever self-published. So gather around the screen it's story time.<br />
<br />
According to Amazon, I published this book on November 13, 2013 so it will turn 6 this year. Before I even know that you could self-publish books on Kinde, I was writing stories for other people to publish. I made $20-30 per short story and I got a byline. Part of the agreement was I lost all rights to it. I admit I was not well versed in the publishing world. And these opportunities came at a time when I needed money.<br />
<br />
Prior to this book, I had three published this way. This was one was for a repeat client. But then they rejected it because it failed their standards (graphic violence). So I had a book prepared for publishing and I had no idea what to do with it. So I asked Google and discovered I could do this myself.<br />
<br />
And the rest is history. I love publishing myself. Not saying, I don't want someone else to publish my work in a traditional sense but with Kindle, I can write the story I want to write. I prefer writing long short stories and novellas and Kindle is the best place for these.<br />
<br />
Anyway... so that's that. Grab a free copy of <i>Heart of Goddess, </i>take a read and let me know what you think.<br />
<br />
Till next time...<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-27851090561741825522019-05-15T23:02:00.001-04:002019-05-15T23:02:08.915-04:00Sciophobia I walk from<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tm18-YVurXE/XNzSiHkHgbI/AAAAAAAAHH8/vjsPdlvMB9gSTBPHnOnLZmhJWdLz3h1sACLcBGAs/s1600/hand-984170_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="640" height="239" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tm18-YVurXE/XNzSiHkHgbI/AAAAAAAAHH8/vjsPdlvMB9gSTBPHnOnLZmhJWdLz3h1sACLcBGAs/s320/hand-984170_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/Free-Photos-242387/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=984170" style="color: #333333; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px !important;">Free-Photos</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=984170" style="color: #333333; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px !important;">Pixabay</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; white-space: nowrap;"> </span></td></tr>
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my cubical to the bathroom down the long white hallway past the executive offices. Out of the corner my eye, hundred of tiny shadows dart back and forth. I stop and look. Nothing is there. I continue on my way, and the shadows invade my vision once again. Maybe it’s the new anxiety medicine I started. I stop and see nothing, again. Just as I get the to restroom door, the shadows swarm me.<br />
<br />
Haverford Daily News: Man Found Torn to Shreds in Office Hallway.<br />
Police Have no Leads. <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Second “animal” attack in Haverford in a week.JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-9445147941762788352019-05-08T23:00:00.000-04:002019-05-08T23:00:18.473-04:00Ascendant I have the moon<br />
and walked to the city<br />
of dawn. Shadowed lamp<br />
light against the blue<br />
sky gravel.<br />
So I look for synthetic<br />
destiny under the textured<br />
copper beach wood.<br />
On the horizon altar<br />
the crow holds the seraphim<br />
talisman while mangroves<br />
lay unfolded. The right hand<br />
star spreads across succulent<br />
meadow rivers and I grasp<br />
for the light rope dangling<br />
from the peach cumulus.JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-77204164189712439062019-05-07T23:12:00.000-04:002019-05-07T23:12:27.959-04:00Seeking PublishersFor years now, I have been sending out stories and poems to print magazines and digital magazines, magazines that pay or don't. Sure, I would like to get paid, but it doesn't even matter now. In all those years, I have had haiku published in <i>Frogpond </i>and <i>Bear Creek Haiku. </i>This was years ago.<br />
<br />
According to my spreadsheet I have been keeping since 2015, I have 99 rejections. A 100% rejection rate. It is discouraging.<br />
<br />
I know this is how the business is. And this is to be expected.<br />
<br />
But I think I had an epiphany the other day while I was doing a submission blitz. <b>My work does not fit in any magazine, print or digital, anywhere</b>.<br />
<br />
I don't follow the current "popular" style. My stories are heavy in dialogue. My stories do not describe the rain in a paragraph when a sentence is sufficient enough. My stories are genre and not at the same time. Many of poems are cerebral, surreal, and based in language play.<br />
<br />
And so I must ask myself, should I bother with the magazines when I know it will be rejection. I read the guidelines. I read the samples. And I know my work doesn't fit. So then I wonder what should I do now?<br />
<br />
Times like this I wish I had another author to talk with. <br />
<br />
Writing is fun; I love it. I love editing. I love revising. I hate submission and looking for publishers.<br />
<br />
Till next time...JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-11159165161635746072019-05-01T21:22:00.000-04:002019-05-01T21:22:32.187-04:00Moonswallow Gates by JM Scott FREE in all Kindle Markets Through May 5, 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1iQmFtjpPew/VjIEak01lqI/AAAAAAAAAdw/5F323wbc_JQGIsvPGrkKkRYcVj9GQK9vwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/51onu66fjyL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1iQmFtjpPew/VjIEak01lqI/AAAAAAAAAdw/5F323wbc_JQGIsvPGrkKkRYcVj9GQK9vwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/51onu66fjyL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
Hey all, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ME39FXE">Moonswallow Gates</a> is FREE in all Kindle markets through May 5, 2019. <br />
<br />
Valisa Ravensquire, recent college grad, learns that a great-uncle she never knew died and left her a stone tower house and money. And... a magical legacy. Suddenly, her life changes. The house comes alive and what horrors await with this new power and legacy. Come on by and find out.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, you are wondering why I offer free book promotions. The short answer: I am trying to figure out is my target audience and build an audience.<br />
<br />
<i>Moonswallow Gates</i> is horror and the first novel I ever wrote. I have more novels in various stages of revision. These novels are much better than this one. Like all things, the more you do it, the better you become. Of course, in those years, I don't write horror as much, but branch out toward more speculative fiction. Though, I am still magic obsessed.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I know there is a one-star review. When the review was written, I unpublished the novel and revised it again. So I hope, it is a much better version. I would love for you to read it and let me know.<br />
<br />
Till next time...JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-74646553789470782602019-04-30T23:56:00.000-04:002019-04-30T23:56:02.834-04:00Driving on a Mountain Road at Night The Alleghenies<br />
spring green and purple petals<br />
storms in mist. Night falls<br />
an eighteen-wheeler brakes hard,<br />
a doe struggles to stand.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Hey all, here is a poem 30 and the end of <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a> for 2019. What a whirlwind of the month. The prompt for today was to write a short poem. This is a tanka and was inspired by events that I experienced today.JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-52639681936056312019-04-29T23:25:00.001-04:002019-04-29T23:25:46.766-04:00Vespers The monopoly magician stands<br />
in the tiger lily field, wields<br />
ultraviolet and pushes<br />
pollen to Sunday<br />
<br />
I pluck a black rose, volts<br />
course through my quartz<br />
heart. Atop the watchtower<br />
the valporate jelly fools<br />
the magician’s logic.<br />
<br />
A language wave<br />
a lux worship<br />
a burning spring<br />
absolute gold<br />
sunset me and the magician<br />
fall away.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Here is poem 29, another search poem. I can't believe this month is almost over. I've written some good poems and not so good poems. But at least I wrote poems.<br />
<br />
Find more poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a>JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-58790958872361566782019-04-28T22:41:00.001-04:002019-04-28T22:41:34.016-04:00Universe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DxjxuOtj9nk/XMZjZniTpUI/AAAAAAAAHHI/eX6nSE65bDoGcLeZBHvjCi848J9L5IaNwCLcBGAs/s1600/universe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="500" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DxjxuOtj9nk/XMZjZniTpUI/AAAAAAAAHHI/eX6nSE65bDoGcLeZBHvjCi848J9L5IaNwCLcBGAs/s640/universe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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***</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here is poem 28, I couldn't think of a meta poem to write today. So I did a blackout poem from <i>Eureka </i> by Edgar Allan Poem. Check out other poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today, I finally finished the first draft of <i>Suburban Vampires. </i> I am looking forward to revising it and uploading the entire thing to Watt Pad. I am hoping to post in October. </div>
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-29980275038999111862019-04-28T13:07:00.001-04:002019-04-28T13:07:55.354-04:00Woods Lost The book-elf myth trowels conjugations<br />
and the sun-hydrant oath inks amnesty.<br />
I buy the honeydew totem yet the twin wine<br />
weeps superior land. Who buys the monastery?<br />
Hustle-moths revolt and sew the blue tin<br />
featherbed. I eat air, roar, and ascend. Ethylene<br />
endows wheat donuts. Hut hens twitch mint-gin<br />
prisms and iced tree harmonies fend cane.<br />
Monks vow hell-law through decayed teeth. Lux<br />
provokes the earthly mini bees<br />
In the forum café, harmony-freedom frets syntheses,<br />
the wet-ash injuries hit high-trade telemetry.<br />
<br />
I am the obscene sun that dotes on a seminal rain<br />
twirling guilt on an ion hike to kidnap acorns.<br />
<br />
***<br />
I suppose I should have read the <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-5/">prompt</a> earlier because I liked it so much, I decided to do it. However, poems like these take a lot of revision to make it something more... The prompt was to remix one of Shakespeare's sonnets. I chose CXXXIX (Call me not the justify the wrong). Then I took each line and ran it through an anagram generator. Once it was done, it needed a lot of revision; I added words, changed parts of speech, etc. I like how it turned it. It's a lot of fun to read out loud. Go on, take a read.<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-8007187236473632582019-04-26T23:54:00.000-04:002019-04-26T23:54:07.627-04:00Dog Days Nectar, ambrosia, and the forgotten scythe<br />
in the summer dream glade<br />
frost gathers on the wild growth<br />
I’m tempted to turn and linger.<br />
<br />
In the summer glade<br />
dragonflies and fireflies dance and drink<br />
I’m tempted to turn and linger<br />
with wandering propagation<br />
<br />
Dragonflies and fireflies dance and drink<br />
to cicada and cricket chorus<br />
With wandering propagation,<br />
my scion spirt is strewn with windfalls.<br />
<br />
To the cicada and cricket chorus<br />
I relive summer prizes, peaches, and penance.<br />
My scion spirit is strewn with windfalls<br />
among nectar ambrosia and the forgotten scythe.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Hey all, this is poem 26 and I followed the <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-six-5/">prompt</a> and tried out a new form, the pantoum. I also like this form and may use for my annual Christmas poem. I suppose I am on a surreal kick at the moment. But honestly, I love surrealism and enjoy writing it, no matter what form it takes.<br />
<br />
<i>Suburban Vampires</i> is almost done! Just one more chapter to write. I am so glad that the first draft is going to be done. I am looking forward to revising it. I have grown so much as a writer from when I first started it. Much of the beginning needs a massive overhaul.<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-48057342647769644542019-04-25T21:23:00.001-04:002019-04-25T21:23:55.155-04:00Edict Alone in the woods,<br />
the blind oracle<br />
waits at the hidden harbor<br />
with incessant anxiety<br />
<br />
What demon possessed me?<br />
I promised to pay<br />
the nutshell of civility<br />
my consequent luxury<br />
was time to be a machine<br />
I was alone with the oracle.<br />
<br />
The sun rose clear<br />
without proof. The smoke<br />
of opinion ripens<br />
the hemlock, oak, maple,<br />
spruce, elm, and birch.<br />
<br />
“The stars are the apexes<br />
of what wonderful triangles,”<br />
she said, dilated the atmosphere<br />
and faded into tangerine light<br />
Yes, it is I replied<br />
alone in the woods.<br />
<br />
<br />
***<br />
This is poem 25. I wasn't feeling the prompt today, so I decided to use another found poem method, I selected words and phrases from a source text. I used <i>On Walden Pond</i> by Henry David Thoreau. Most words in this poem came from the first few pages in my Kindle edition. The only part in the poem with quotation marks is a direct sentence, word for word from the text. Love, love that line.<br />
<br />
Find more great poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a>.JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-599760354298564532019-04-25T19:15:00.002-04:002019-04-25T19:15:41.999-04:00Witch HazelMercury’s facade<br />
burns the eyes of proximities<br />
as I shift trade routes.<br />
I’m the genesis array<br />
with golden antidifference.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Here is poem 24. A day late- I was going to write one last night but I found myself floating in space. I sort of followed the <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-four-5/">prompt</a>. I used the random feature on Wikipedia and wrote down words and phrases to make a word bank. Then I decided to write a tanka with it.<br />
<br />
I have another to write for the day; I will be caught once again. Just five more days...JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-49545205635671113832019-04-23T22:21:00.000-04:002019-04-23T22:21:17.543-04:00Roanoke From the ivy terrace<br />
I eat blood<br />
orange slices,<br />
while old men play<br />
dominoes on the rusty<br />
shark cage<br />
<br />
doll eyes tumble<br />
in the blue-green roulette<br />
wheel. And no one seems<br />
to see the saltwater cowboy<br />
decoy or the burning<br />
hollow tree.<br />
<br />
The media calls<br />
for a matron wrapped<br />
in corona as hazard<br />
buoys free<br />
themselves and drift<br />
toward smokey stars.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Here is poem 23, and I caught up. Good thing. Today, I did another search poem. I had some trouble creating a word bank and went through several combinations before I got a large enough word bank. As I was reading over it doing some edits and revisions, this poem made me think of Roanoke- as in Roanoke, NC. I don't know why but thought it was a good title. Find more great poets <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a>.<br />
<br />
I also made a huge jump in <i>Suburban Vampires. </i> Technically, I have 8 more pages to write to "win" but, it would be great to finish it. I don't have a lot more chapters to write. If I keep working on a chapter on a day, I should finish the entire thing by the end of April.<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-37485764526223776822019-04-23T15:22:00.000-04:002019-04-23T15:22:10.948-04:00Gale <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6xDmVACKWY/XL9jk0tcs0I/AAAAAAAAHGc/Z4YSKhEQ1VIBrPXtE12Y6ZdGZhNSXMaHgCLcBGAs/s1600/cape%2Bcod%2Bevening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6xDmVACKWY/XL9jk0tcs0I/AAAAAAAAHGc/Z4YSKhEQ1VIBrPXtE12Y6ZdGZhNSXMaHgCLcBGAs/s320/cape%2Bcod%2Bevening.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cape Cod Evening by Edward Hooper<br />
Image retrieved from the<br />
National Gallery of Art, <br />
Washington DC</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He’s a working man<br />
not paid enough for long hours<br />
building boats he’s never going<br />
to sail for the white Victorian<br />
in Cape Cod.<br />
<br />
She’s an unhappy woman<br />
with her children living<br />
their own lives, wanting<br />
more than taking care<br />
of the white Victorian<br />
in Cape Cod.<br />
<br />
The collie stands<br />
in autumn seagrass<br />
watching sparrows seek<br />
shelter from the eastward<br />
storm at the white Victorian<br />
in Cape Cod.<br />
<br />
They all wait<br />
for the lightning strike<br />
for the thunder growl<br />
for the rain to finally fall<br />
on the white Victorian<br />
in Cape Cod.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Hey all, here is poem 22, an ekphrastic poem, which somewhat follows the prompt for the day. Once I complete my current poetry project, <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/writerjmscott/one-book-300-poems/">One Book, 300 Poems</a>, a Pinterest exclusive project featuring blackout and whiteout poetry from the same book, I plan on working on a series of ekphrastic poems using artwork from new artists on Etsy. That won't be for a while since I have about a year or two to finish the current project. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I love Edward Hooper. He's one of my favorites in addition to Van Gogh and Dali. There's something peaceful about his paintings. But there's more to them. I can look at them for a while just taking it all in. When I went to the National Gallery of Art website to find open source images, I was delighted to see two Edward Hoopers. I had a hard time choosing which one. <br />
<br />
I got one more to catch up on. Find more great poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/">NaPoWriMo</a>JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-73217152584596345552019-04-23T00:48:00.001-04:002019-04-23T00:49:32.254-04:00State of Nowhere Through the pink rose hallway<br />
in the gray apartment building in<br />
the gray and broken down city,<br />
lions whisper from wall holes.<br />
<br />
Circular stairs always in motion<br />
spinning like a tornado<br />
in the winter snow.<br />
<br />
A hand grabs my own.<br />
There’s nothing to see<br />
but everything to feel<br />
the floor exhales<br />
an icy mist and the hallway<br />
freezes and collapses into a whole.<br />
<br />
Sirens in the distance,<br />
screams nearby<br />
the staircase stops spinning<br />
and going up leads to going<br />
down the hand that is still<br />
there in the blue and amethyst<br />
swamp.<br />
<br />
I stop to rest close my eyes<br />
and still see as the diamond<br />
crashes over me, the sky changes<br />
to pink, the world stops<br />
and gawks, mouth wide<br />
swallowing frogs.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Here is poem 21 a surrealist poem which follows the prompt. I do love writing surrealism poems. Many of my poems do fall into surrealism in one way or another.<br />
<br />
As I write this it is 12:45 a.m. which means I have day 22 and day 23 to do; I will work on them tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Read more great poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/participants-sites/">NaPoWriMo</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-80657790003932686762019-04-22T22:34:00.000-04:002019-04-22T22:34:04.355-04:00So I Did I read on the news and knew that guy<br />
so I did<br />
wash the clothes and let them dry in the sun<br />
so I did<br />
fix the muffler and I told him not to do that<br />
so I did<br />
<br />
but you know how that is right it’s the same<br />
thing different day and shit rolls downhill<br />
<br />
so I did<br />
I went to the grocery store and bought<br />
dollar blackberries<br />
They were from Mexico and tasted American<br />
and made a cobbler<br />
so I did.<br />
<br />
But you know how that is<br />
you never know which way is up<br />
until you smell shit.<br />
<br />
I read the news and discovered<br />
the world is full of idiots<br />
and falling apart<br />
so I did.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Hey all, here is poem 20. I still have 2 more to do. I am trying to catch up but I was hit with a migraine earlier. It is starting to subside, so let's have hope.<br />
<br />
I followed day 20's <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-6/">prompt</a> for the most part using the phrase "so I did." I can't think of the grammar name for it but it is a popular Appalachian vernacular phrase that people say after they tell a story. The reiterate they did something by saying "so I did."<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-17273752613914371902019-04-22T13:48:00.000-04:002019-04-22T13:49:45.587-04:00Zenolith All I wanted was<br />
Butterflies and bread and to ride a<br />
Camel at the state fair. I<br />
Didn’t how far<br />
Elephants traveled toward <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Freedom. I fell through the<br />
Ground and came out the other end,<br />
Heaven took my hand and shook me around.<br />
I walked to the edge of the horizon<br />
Jumped into the sky and stole the dragon<br />
Kite. Later, as I opened my eyes, I<br />
Lost the happy humdrum<br />
Moan of the universe. So it was<br />
Night. The stars, the planets, and the moon<br />
Opalize against the dark denim sky<br />
Parakeets and parrots sing sad<br />
Quantum songs unseen from<br />
Red rose bushes. I thought about<br />
Sunday adventures and tea<br />
Time with the elf queen. I<br />
Understood the debutante<br />
Vespers of adulthood,<br />
Wrapped in glass paper, a<br />
Xenolith of time and compression. In the end,<br />
You and I just words turned to stories turned to<br />
Zeros over the vast grey Atlantic.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Here is poem 19. I am a few days behind. I actually started this on Friday while at my dad's house, but then never finished it. So today, I am going to try and catch up on all the poems and work on Camp.<br />
<br />
This poem is an abecedarian poem. The lines are in alphabetical order but there are several ways to write one of these. It was the <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-nineteen-4/">prompt</a> for the day and decided to try it out since I never wrote one.JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-37398000918411689762019-04-18T21:59:00.001-04:002019-04-18T21:59:50.318-04:00Today- April 18, 2019lost in make believe<br />
there’s no way out– fake terror<br />
the alarm rescues<br />
<br />
blue sky, green grass<br />
rabbits and robins bring spring<br />
I walk barefoot<br />
<br />
Yellow moon<br />
behind the night clouds<br />
a lonesome owl hoots<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Here is poem 18. Well, that's not entirely true because there are three haiku. However, all of that happened today. You don't typically title haiku, but since I was posting on the blog I had to come up with something. Fun fact- Grammarly approves of haiku since it doesn' want to fix all the line breaks so the words don't have extra spaces, but seems to dislike free verse poems.<br />
<br />
Anyway find more great poets at <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/participants-sites/">NaPoWriMo</a>JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306475400212215593.post-47460508219254070882019-04-17T22:02:00.001-04:002019-04-17T22:02:34.099-04:00Black Nectar I start as a cherry<br />
on a green bush<br />
in Columbia. Sweet, juicy<br />
and red under the hydrogen<br />
and helium sun.<br />
<br />
Then like a birth<br />
9 months later,<br />
I’m plucked, roasted,<br />
beat down,<br />
packed, and sent away.<br />
<br />
My bits<br />
as fine as coke powder<br />
intermingle with thousands<br />
others in a basket and scorched<br />
with boiling water<br />
<br />
Just so you can stay awake through rush hour.<br />
Just so you can have endorphins course<br />
through your body as you read your poems.<br />
<br />
And I’m done with– discarded<br />
with banana peels.<br />
I never did see Paris.<br />
<br />
***<br />
Wowee, I caught up for the time being. Here is poem 17. I followed the prompt which you can read <a href="http://www.napowrimo.net/day-seventeen-5/">here</a> if you want. I wasn't going to follow the prompt, but then I looked at the steaming cup of coffee sitting on my desk and the poem naturally came.<br />
<br />
I also reached the midpoint of <i>Suburban Vampires. </i>I have the rest of novel sort of planned and I hope that I finish the rough draft this month. It is a little short but that will be remedied when it comes to revisions.<br />
<br />
<br />JM Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11619643541217958779noreply@blogger.com0