Throwback Thursday: My Einstein (patterned after Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven’)

einsteinEinstein was my first cat, a gloriously fat and fluffy Maine Coon whom I adored, as you can see from that marvelous 1989 senior pic over there on the side. Yes, I loved that hat. And that hair. And that sweater.

My guess is this was an assignment for senior English in high school, to write a poem in the style of somebody else. Enjoy.

My Einstein (patterned after ‘The Raven’ by Edgar Allan Poe)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a pile of chemistry problems that were quite a bore-
While I struggled, pencil gnawing, suddenly there came a clawing,
As if something gently pawing, pawing at my bedroom door-
“‘Tis my silly cat,” I muttered, “clawing at my bedroom door-
Out of food and he wants more.”

Open here I flung the door wide, when, with hunger a force at his side,
In there strode my giant Einstein weighing 15 pounds or more.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord of jungle, turned and walked to the bathroom door-
Perched upon the bathroom scale then just inside the bathroom door-
Meowed and whined and licked the floor.

Then this innocent cat beguiling my distraught face into smiling,
By the cute and irresistible little face he wore,
“Though you think you’re far from fat, you cat,” I said, “no more, and that’s that!
Silly, warm, and cuddly cat wandering through the house’s floors-
Tell me why you think you should get what’s behind that cupboard door!”
“Hungry!” meowed he, “I want more!”

But my Einstein still beguiling my mad fancy into smiling,
Straight I sat on toilet seat in front of cat and bowl on floor;
Then, within the cupboard seeking, for something to feed my sweeting,
Found, the sack most empty, thinking why this devious cat on the floor-
Why he meowed while I was working for he already knew before;
“You ate it all, THERE IS NO MORE!”

Flash Friday Fiction: Kindred Spirits

The Sea Horse. Photo and sculpture by Jeffro Uitto; used by permission.
The Sea Horse. Photo and sculpture by Jeffro Uitto; used by permission.

Kindred Spirits – 159 words

She didn’t know how he’d gotten here, out in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t care. She’d loved him at first sight.

She imagined him a magnificent medieval destrier, bequeathed on a valiant knight in honor of his service to the king. A great beast of a war-horse, wearing armor of his own as he charged across the battlefields of Europe.

Or a wild mustang racing across the plains of Wyoming, cowboy on his back and freedom in his nostrils, the mountains of the West framing his flowing mane as he hurled himself forward, ever forward.

What he wasn’t supposed to be was still. Trapped. Frightened. Decaying. Not like her.

Every day she climbed onto his back, closed her eyes, and willed him to break free, to run, to carry her away. Every night she returned home, broken, bridled, chomping at the bit.

They were kindred spirits, she and this horse. Wild animals encased in a permanent prison.

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Isn’t this a wonderful photo? Using it as our prompt, as well as the idea of knighthood, we had 150 words (+/- 10) to come up with a story about it. What do you think of mine?

If you want to read the many other wonderful submissions or enter your own, hop (or trot or canter or gallop) on over to Flash Friday Fiction!

Throwback Thursday: More Cheesy Poetry! Sometimes – from @ 1993?

Last week I offered up a cheesy poem – why not add more ooey goodness? Yes, I actually still like this one, even though it’s obvious I was working with rhythm in my attempts to construct it. What do you think? (I’m starting to feel I ought to apologize to Maya Angelou, Rainer Maria Rilke, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and the many other extraordinarily talented poets out there…)

trail-in-the-woods

sometimes…

sometimes i sit and wonder as my mind begins to wander
over the paths that i have chosen in my life.
if i’d turned a little sooner or maybe you a little later
the change that could have wrought is much to ponder…

the decisions and the choices that have been told through many voices
and have wrought so many changes in myself
perhaps are better hidden than to run through me unbidden
bringing questions into which i will not delve.

the way that i appear when i look into the mirror
is not the one i feel i am inside
i cannot help but wonder what will cure this aching hunger
to fight myself and not flow with the tide.

maybe it is better not to pull myself together
but to look inside each individual part.
then i can finally learn what it is that makes me burn
to live, to learn, to love with all my heart.

The Golden Heart Awards: A Newbie’s Experience

The coveted Golden Heart necklace
The Golden Heart necklace

Apparently when I decide to put myself out there, I go all in. Why else would I enter the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart contest, also known as the Oscars of the romance world? OK, maybe the Oscar part refers more to the RITA contest, run at the same time, which awards published authors with one of the most coveted recognitions in the romance writing arena, but still – winning a Golden Heart is HUGE and often leads into one’s manuscript actually getting published.

Why would I enter such a prestigious contest? Because I’m a noob and didn’t know any better? Maybe. But also because I said I would send A Man of Character out this year. I promised myself that I would pursue publication in one form or other by the end of 2014, and I wanted an early start. It was a good deadline to set, and a great learning experience.

Was I surprised that I didn’t final? No, especially once I read that a) those who final must earn scores of 9 and above (out of 10) across all categories, and that b) one probably shouldn’t enter unless they’ve won other smaller writing contests and gotten lots of feedback from a variety of people. Of course a teensy weensy part of me had hoped I’d magically grab that brass ring, but no such luck. I’m good with that. I have a long ways to go in this career, and I’m still very much a beginner. This is my first book, and while I love it, I KNOW I have lots of room for improvement across the board.

Last week I got the judge’s scores back. I’d forgotten about that – I knew this wasn’t a contest that provided feedback, so I figured once I didn’t get that phone call on March 26th, that it was just done. Nope. While you don’t get detailed commentary, or any commentary at all, you do get the basic scores from the five judges who read your work. I’m not allowed to reveal them in detail, but after communicating with RWA for clearance, they told me it’s OK for me to speak of the scores in a general sense while discussing my experiences.

Let’s just say my scores are an excellent reminder that a lot of this writing business really IS subjective. Because one judge, whom I’ve affectionately nicknamed the Paula Abdul judge, loved me across the board. A second, my own Simon Cowell, was apparently not a fan. The other three judges had me at what I’m assuming is in the C range for most things (not sure if I’m interpreting the middle ones correctly, but we’re going with that) – enough to maybe – maybe – make it through a 1st audition on American Idol, but not to get me anywhere close to the Hollywood rounds, much less the Top 20.

What struck me most was the discrepancy in scores for my writing ability. Apparently one either loves my writing style, or…doesn’t. Well, OK, again, that was mostly the Paula vs Simon scenario. Still, it was a good reminder that you can’t please everyone (and that I have much to learn).

What I wouldn’t give to know what was behind the scores – to know why I got the scores I did. But for that, this isn’t the right contest. In fact, it was a pretty big leap to jump into this contest at all, considering how little real-world experience I’ve had with my writing being out there for judgment/critical review. So I’m proud of each and every one of my scores. Because they are affirmations that I’m trying, that I’m working, that I’m willing to DO this.

In the meantime, I’ve started a local critique group, have entered a contest sponsored by the Virginia Romance Writers, and will be looking for other ways to get feedback on my work.

And rather than focusing on the Simon Cowell scores, I’m going to highlight the Paula Abdul ones and hang them up near my desk, to remind myself that at this stage of the game, someone already loved my book. Straight up.