Thank you Paul Lenzi – glad to have found this post and delighted to share, with your permission of course as you have so kindly granted.
A couple of my followers have inquired about my methods of self-publishing, so I thought I’d offer some information here for anyone’s interest. Please note, however, that I have no special knowledge or expertise beyond my own recent and still unfolding experience.
When I retired 10 years ago, I started writing poetry with some regularity. There came a point when I had lots of poems and wanted to attempt their publication, beyond my own blog. After forays into the frustratingly slow submission and declination routine, regarding the major conventional publishers, I ran out of patience and decided to try self-publishing.
Last year, I explored numerous indie and corporate platforms, including Lulu and Smashwords. I found the mere process of investigating these resources rather daunting, because there is a plethora of different services, costs, hooks and terms. So, too, appeared to be their varying rates of success and…
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A very forthright post, but then again one wouldn’t expect anything else from the pen of Fransi Weinstein.
It’s horrifying as far as I’m concerned. Horrifying, disgusting, despicable, tasteless, outrageous and a prime example of the greed that seems to have overtaken us. Amazon.ca is selling an e-book written by one of the most evil, sick, twisted individuals ever.
I don’t know who over there made the decision to accept it, but here’s what I think of that decision. And the book.
Paul Bernardo who, in 1995, was sentenced to life with no chance of parole for 25 years, brutally raped and killed two teenagers in St. Catharines, Ontario. Leslie Mahaffy was 14 and Kristen French was 15. He also admitted to raping 14 other women in Scarborough, a Toronto
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Archchancellor Smyth of Hoodunyt University of Sorcery looked out as the roof of the alchemy building shot into the air, followed by a plume of smoke.
As he watched, the smoke took the form of a demon and flew off.
This wasn’t good
There’d be forms to fill.
Maybe even a meeting.
Written for The Grammar Ghoul Press Shapeshifting 13 Challenge number 28.
The private jet had touched down earlier arriving from Malpensa airport. She had stepped elegantly onto the runway and into the waiting chauffeur driven limousine. She was whisked away speedily past the normal security checks and off to her location.She is a model, the daughter of a South American Diplomat and a lady famous not only for her looks but also for her left wing ideals.
She was here for a photo shoot and as usual on occasions there was an army of paparazzi awaiting her arrival, and of course her burly body guards who were always conspicuous by their dress code. Although immensely wealthy in her own right she had never flaunted it in public and today was no exception. There was always a buzz and a tension about and an edginess the cut through the air. ……………………
Forlornly she stared into the distance.The years of hardship etched into her lonely face.
She had lost everything, and now the ultimate loss.
Too old to travel she is left alone and destitute.
Standing amidst the ruins of her miserable life.
She watched as in the distance her family left
bundled unceremoniously into tiny rafts.
A child tightly hugging a filthy teddy bear.
Her tear stained face streaked in muddy streams.
No tears left to shed in her wide brown eyes
she can but hope that her children will survive.
I remember you daddy oh so well
We mark the spot on where you fell.
Each Christmas I come visit here
And find your name and shed a tear.
Your picture on the dresser
In your uniform impressed.
You’re always in our memories
And hope that you in heaven rest.
Haiku x 2.
Starlings feeding in
November’s golden garden
just as the sun sets.
In spite of high winds
and torrential downpours-
the roses still bloom.
Sudden intake of breath.
I gasp in horror.
Amid the festive preparations
needless death and destruction.
Elaine Morris ( c ) November 2015.
Taking a walk inside my head While tucked up comfortably in my bed Tripped over a word which set me on a roll This could be a night mare or a pleasant stroll. The men in white coats are at the be…
Source: A Night Mare.