Better not walk into the blizzard, though it seems like snow would be the easy way out in a life where it feels like everyone but me is getting a piece of the pie in the sky.
It hasn’t been easy living with a mind full of beautiful dreams in a body straight out of a nightmare.
It hasn’t been easy always being the one belittled while others are praised.
It hasn’t been easy feeling like I must have been dropped off on the wrong planet.
It hasn’t been easy feeling like the breath is being wrung from my throat by invisible hands.
I mainly remain here out of defiance.
I celebrate the tiny triumphs and hold on.
Even though it seems like snow would be the easy way out.
the night can't be stopped
when the sky turns indigo
gold fading to black
notes
https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/11/carpe-diem-40-indigo.html
This prompt inspired the Haiku.
https://dversepoets.com/2023/11/06/november-for-beginners/
It’s time to write Prosery, the very short piece of prose that tells a story with a beginning, a middle and an end, in any genre of your choice. It’s flash fiction, with a limit of 144 words and an additional challenge is to hit 144 exactly. The special thing about Prosery is that we give you a complete line or two from a poem, which must be included somewhere in your story, within the 144-word limit.
write a story that includes the following line(s) from November For Beginners:
‘Snow would be the easy way out’
You can read the complete poem here.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/55630/november-for-beginners-56d2376810b48
If my non-fiction Haibun flouts the rules of the prompt too much, the organizers are welcome to remove my entry with my apologies.
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-6
Write a Better (blank) poem. This piece is called Better Not Walk Into the Blizzard, and it contains that line.
We do get blizzards where I live, and when they come I can reckon on not going to any of the cities for quite some time. Fortunately, we have a general store in town, and I don't tend to get severe cabin fever because I'm an introvert anyway.
I added text art and effects to the base image using Pixlr. You are welcome to share the image, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. A link back to this blog would also be appreciated.
~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~
Today's post features a portion of the first chapter of C. L. Hart's contemporary holiday romantic fantasy novelette, morphed into a blackout poem and then a fictional Haibun. Information on this story and the anthology in which it is included appears after the poem.
The Original Snippet
Read the previous snippet from this story:
https://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2023/10/grounded-mfrwhooks.html
The diminutive woman at the counter looked like a
Christmas elf with her shimmery silver hair trimmed in a perky pixie cut. She
wore a soft, light cyan sweater and had a festive red and green cap with bells
perched on her head. As soon as Macario saw the apologetic look in her
neon-blue eyes, he knew he was out of luck. Yet, she was his last hope of not
being stuck in Nashville overnight, so he approached her.
“Miss, I really need to get to Phoenix as soon as
possible,” Macario said. “If you play poker, you need to work on your
expressions, because I could tell from the look on your face that you have no
cars left. However, I am also confident that you will do your best to assist a
traveler in need. Do you have any suggestions?”
A little more:
“I certainly do, but we’ll need to be quick,” the sprightly lady declared. “I’m going to call my brother Dom over at Snowman Railway. I’m not guaranteeing anything because a ride to Flagstaff on the Snowman Line is always very popular, especially at this time of year. However, I have a feeling we may be able to grant your wish. Hello Dom, it’s Pika. I have a passenger here who desperately needs to get to Arizona. You do? Oh, that’s splendid! When can you be here? Thank you, Dom, you really are a sugar plum! We’ll see you in fifteen.”
The little woman disconnected the call. Her
expression was joyful.
“Dom will be here to escort you to the train
himself,” she said. “You really are a lucky fellow, Mister…”
“Macario Bachmeier, but you can call me Mac,” Macario said, clasping the woman’s tiny hand in his. “Thank you, Miss Pika, you are a godsend! I will certainly tell your employer how helpful you were. If anyone deserves a holiday bonus, it’s you.”
The Poem In Progress
The diminutive woman at the counter looked like a Christmas elf with her shimmery silver hair trimmed in a perky pixie cut. She wore a soft, light cyan sweater and had a festive red and green cap with bells perched on her head. As soon as Macario saw the apologetic look in her neon-blue eyes, he knew he was out of luck. Yet, she was his last hope of not being stuck in Nashville overnight, so he approached her.
“Miss, I really need to get to Phoenix as soon as possible,” Macario said. “If you play poker, you need to work on your expressions, because I could tell from the look on your face that you have no cars left. However, I am also confident that you will do your best to assist a traveler in need. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I certainly do, but we’ll need to be quick,” the sprightly lady declared. “I’m going to call my brother Dom over at Snowman Railway. I’m not guaranteeing anything because a ride to Flagstaff on the Snowman Line is always very popular, especially at this time of year. However, I have a feeling we may be able to grant your wish. Hello Dom, it’s Pika. I have a passenger here who desperately needs to get to Arizona. You do? Oh, that’s splendid! When can you be here? Thank you, Dom, you really are a sugar plum! We’ll see you in fifteen.”
The little woman disconnected the call. Her expression was joyful.
“Dom will be here to escort you to the train himself,” she said. “You really are a lucky fellow, Mister…”
“Macario
Bachmeier, but you can call me Mac,” Macario said, clasping the woman’s tiny
hand in his. “Thank you, Miss Pika, you are a godsend! I will certainly tell
your employer how helpful you were. If anyone deserves a holiday bonus, it’s
you.”
The Finished Haibun
The diminutive woman at the counter was his last hope.
“Miss, I could tell from the look on your face that you will do your best to assist a traveler in need. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I certainly do, but we’ll need to be quick. I’m not guaranteeing anything because a ride to Flagstaff on the Snowman Line is always very popular, especially at this time of year. However, I have a feeling we may be able to grant your wish. You really are a lucky fellow, Mister.”
“Thank you, Miss, you are a godsend! If anyone deserves a holiday bonus, it’s you.”
when we show kindness
we bring relief to others
healing our own souls
Anthology:
For the Love of Winter
Anthology Genre:
Holiday Romance
Buy Link:
https://books2read.com/b/baqw6y
Publication Date:
December 6, 2023
Ebook Price:
$3.99 (Amazon pre-order)
Book Blurb:
Bake your cookies, light some candles, trim your trees, and be enchanted with thirteen sweet-to-spicy Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year's novellas that will sweep you from colonial days to contemporary times—each bearing a gift of happily-ever-after grand finales. This joyous collection is...
A Winter Mating by Lia Davis. He returns to Willow Glen with one goal, to claim his mate. Convincing her that she belongs to him will be his toughest challenge, but he's not above using seduction to get what he wants.
One Night at Christmas by Danica Winters. As the busy owner of a veterinary clinic, Emily Avery always has her hands full of puppies but empty of the one thing she really isn't sure she wants anyway—a man. When the kind-hearted Derek Night makes an emergency call to help his mom's naughty pup, they both must step outside of their shells and let the magic of Christmas and one mischievous pup bring them together.
The Christmas Crash by Tessa Lyons. Sparks fly when a relentless optimist and a grieving veterinarian are snowed in together at Christmas. Can they rediscover the magic of the season and find love in the most unexpected place?
His Christmas Date by Sara J. Walker. In this heartwarming story of seasoned romance, Dino Dudley and Hilde McQuire must navigate family drama and their own emotional baggage to find true love.
Jordyn's Christmas Gift by Marie Morton. Jordyn Billings, a busy marketing executive, is gifted a holiday getaway to Chateau D'Or by her family, where she discovers an unforgettable and life-changing Christmas gift.
Four Chanukahs and a Wedding by Merrie Angel. Widowed and alone in 1973, Millie explores a professional photographer's life, and stumbles upon Adam--an insatiable adventure seeker related to Jackie Kennedy. Will they find a way to ignite a flame that burns far beyond Millie's expectations and set ablaze their own festival of lights?
Recipe for Romance by Gloria Ferguson. Ashley McClain wants to win the Holiday Bake-Off with her late mom's cupcake recipe. Can she join forces with her friend and neighbor to claim the prize and a bit of romance just in time for Christmas?
Before the Rising Sun by V.L. Czerny. Their romance blighted at a colonial ball, Gertrude and Nicholas, forgetting their past acquaintance, are maneuvered by the Christmas spirit to set love loose and so refashion time's expected plans.
Unexpected Angels by C.L. Hart. Sometimes the best things come together when everything is falling apart.
Christmas Market Magic by Tessie Benton. Sydney Hawthorne hires an escort for a business date, but he's not what he appears to be, and their mutual deception sparks desire while careers hang in the balance.
A Merry White Christmas by Sally Murphy. Merry London, tasked with organizing an opulent Christmas ball for the McPhersons, faces an unexpected challenge in the form of Joel McPherson, whose fiery charm threatens to melt her icy exterior and unravel her meticulously laid plans.
Lavender and Love Restored by M.J. Gates. Chief architect Jess Carlson is restoring a haunted historic hotel and helping a friendly spirit while reclaiming her life and love before the hotel's grand reopening on New Year's Eve.
Marry Me by Midnight by Leah Miles. Navy SEAL Kendall Nelson can't manage a successful proposal, and single mom Luisa Sanchez has no time for romance.
Proceeds benefit the First Coast Romance Writers, an independent non-profit organization helping writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry.
About the Author:
C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.
When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable.
Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.
Follow C. L. Hart
C. L. Hart Amazon Author Page
https://bit.ly/CLHartAmazonAuthor
C. L. Hart Newsletter
https://www.subscribepage.com/clhart
Naughty Netherworld Press Blog
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
Naughty Netherworld Press Books
Naughty Netherworld Press Start Page
https://naughtynetherworldpress.start.page
Naughty Netherworld Press Substack
https://naughtynetherworldpress.substack.com
Readers Roost Book Blog
Readers Roost Facebook
http://www.facebook.com/OrneryOwlsRoost
Readers Roost Twitter
https://twitter.com/ReadersRoost
notes
Let's discuss the process and prompts used to create this epic work of literary art!
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-5
Write a book-based poem.
What could be better than using one of my own stories?
Initially, I only intended to create a blackout poem. Then I saw that by trimming away details from the longer story, I was creating a more compact version of the same story, so I decided to go with a fictional Haibun.
I needed to create a short poem (Senryu, I guess, since it's about human nature rather than the environment or the seasons), so I consulted the trusty old Carpe Diem Haiku blog for a prompt. I'm rather pleased with the end result.
https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/11/carpe-diem-33-all-souls-daymummers-dance.html
I created the illustration for the poem by adding text art and effects to the base image using Pixlr. You are welcome to share the image, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. A link back to this blog would also be appreciated.
By the way, I have no intention of debating with anyone whether this is a "proper" Haibun. I'm not the sort of poet or person who tends to follow exacting rules. While I don't really expect anyone to stir the shit at this point, there was a person who came around making much ado about nothing some five or six years ago, and I admit, it really bothered me.
At that point in time, I was still quite concerned with trying to make people like me. At this point, I couldn't give a tin shit about anyone's approval or lack thereof when it comes to me or my writing. Like this poem. Don't like this poem. I don't really give a damn. I don't intend to waste my time arguing about it.
I like to think of this poem as a C. L. Hart/Ornery Owl collaboration. Yes, they are different aspects of me. C. L. Hart is my fantasy/horror/sci-fi/weird fiction pen name and Ornery Owl is my snarky poetry persona. Nevertheless, it's a bit of an unusual circumstance when the twain meet thusly, so I say it's cause for acknowledgment.
The following videos really have nothing to do with the poem. This was just what I was listening to while I was creating it.
Remembering the day when your turn came
I knew that things would never be the same.
You went over the top on holidays
Our home was filled with the spirit of praise.
I always remember those Christmas scenes
I catch glimpses of childhood in my dreams.
It's now been thirteen years that you've been gone
The grief is not as sharp but still as strong.
notes
https://dversepoets.com/2023/11/02/mtb-lets-lament-without-the-lachrymose/
Topic:
someone close to you
someone vaguely known e.g a neighbour
someone totally unknown except through deeds or writings eg a dead poet perhaps like the recently deceased Louise Gluck
a group of people (eg as in Gray’s “Elegy written in a country churchyard”)
Form: Must include these three elements, ordered thus:
lament –expressing grief and sorrow
praise – admiration of the deceased
consolation and solace
It can be written as 3 distinct sections/stanzas or melded together but keeping the order above
Style: The elegy can be written in any metre the poet chooses.
Those of you who prefer more stricture and guidance might like to try the Elegiac metre:
rhyming coupleted lines (AA;BB;CC etc though not separated into couplets)
written in dactylic hexameter and pentameter
The last two lines aren't in strict keeping with the form, but I wanted them there.
https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-62/
The prompt word is turn. Since I can't play by the rules and my poem has eight lines instead of six, I won't be linking up this time.
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-4
Write a catching poem.
You will find the word catch in the above poem.
Something has been vaguely steaming my ham for quite some time. It isn't a big deal, it's just one of those things that mildly perturbs me, so I'm going to get it out in the open. It has to do with my occasional use of multiple prompts.
A few years back, I used a lot more prompts in creating my work than I currently do. I believe this was partly because of ADHD and partly because of a lack of confidence in my abilities. Whatever the case, the prompts helped inspire me, as they still do.
One fellow, and I'm not going to name names, wrote an entire post about not understanding people who see the need to use multiple prompts.
These days if I use more than one prompt it's because the first prompt may spark an idea but I need more to help the idea manifest. So, I roll down my list of prompt sources until I find what I need to work my magic.
I'm explaining shit anyway because I'm sick of this foolishness nibbling at me.
My dude, what difference does it make how many prompts another poet does or doesn't use in the creation of his or her work? I'm not coming to your house, holding a gun to your head, and commanding you to use more prompts or else. I fail to see why someone else's process differing from yours would be cause for writing an entire dissertation on the subject.
Anyway, I thought of this because I used three prompts in creating this poem, and I don't apologize for it. If anyone just can't understand why I would do such a thing or thinks the use of multiple prompts is akin to setting my neighbor's house on fire or strolling down the street naked with a strip of toilet paper clenched between my butt cheeks, perhaps consider that maybe this is a you problem.
I have real problems to occupy me. I couldn't give a gnat's fart in a category five hurricane how many prompts someone who isn't me uses to accomplish their writing.
Here's a tune that never goes out of style.
my chronic problem
can be summed up in four words:
a lack of money.
notes
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-3
Write a problem poem.
It's a problem many of us have.
Lack of funds.
I added text art and effects to the base image using Pixlr. You are welcome to share the resulting Senryu/Haiga, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. A link back to this blog would also be a nice touch.
I feel like I've been singing the Money Blues my entire life. My family was very poor when I was a young child. I have spoken before of my loathing for boiled soybeans, a high-protein food with all the delightful flavor of plastic and dirt. I like toasted soybeans, particularly with a little salt or perhaps some soy sauce. I like edamame. I like soy jerky, which is expensive, so I don't eat it very often. Boiled soybeans are nasty. Eating my shoe would be about as pleasurable.
Once my father graduated from college, my parents were solidly in the middle class. They were terrible with money. Combining the bad habits I learned from them with my own impulsivity issues was a straight-up disaster. I'm still paying for mistakes I made thirty to forty years ago. If you think debts get written off after seven years allowing you the chance to start fresh, you're wrong.
Currently, all my credit cards are maxed out. I do make my monthly minimum payments and I've become pretty damn good at making them on time if I do say so myself. I'm also paying off a small loan. Between that and the bills, I haven't got squat left over, not that SSDI allows me to have more than $2000 in savings anyway. Fuck that shit.
However, as if my current bills weren't enough, I now have an old credit card that I defaulted on after I got fired from my job as a homecare nurse singing the dissonant tune of $900 in my direction. I can ask about getting an extension on my current loan, but I doubt they'll give me one because my debt-to-income ratio is way too high. I suppose it might be worth a shot because I haven't missed a single payment and always make them on time, but I won't hold my breath.
Anyway, one thing I've learned is beating myself up doesn't help. I'll just keep working to dig myself out of my current hole and try not to get into any others.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
~Ornery Owl Has Sung the Money Blues~
Dear Ms. Owl,
The Ethereal Wraiths of Debts Past align with your never-expanding wallet to collect the far-from-towering pile of copper you have remaining in your coffers. This is an earnest attempt to fleece you of whatever paltry sum you may manage to manifest. Like enchanted spiders lurking in your empty bank account for any sign of activity, we welcome virtual payments of magic money.
Do not make the mistake of believing you can escape your obligations by dying. Our home office is located in the Ninth Circle.
after Halloween
the fright fest continues on
when money is owed.
~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~
https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/10/carpe-diem-32-all-souls-nighthalloween.html
For the Senryu.
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-1
Write a declaration poem.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2023/10/30/wordle-346/
