Got some more good writing news recently. "The Literary Hatchet" accepted another one of my stories, for their upcoming August issue. You might recall that this same publication published a story of mine, "Sudden Death Overtime," back in April of this year. The story that was accepted this time is titled, "St. Vincent," and it's about a decidedly unorthodox hitman. This one is definitely only suitable for adult reading, as it's one of the more disturbing ones I've written. I'll post more details when I get them.
Just to fill out this post a little, I was revisiting some of my old papers from childhood. Included in them was a poem I wrote in high school, in 9th grade as I recall. As I discussed way back in my 2nd ever blog post (February 14th, 2012), I'm not much into poetry, either reading or writing it. So with that negative endorsement, here it is:
I needed some money, that much was very clear,
To buy my family a Christmas gift.
If I did not, my mom would shed a tear,
And everyone else would be really miffed!
After searching for money in the park,
I still could not hit upon an answer.
I guessed I could have gone to a loan shark,
But dealing with them was worse than cancer!
I thought I might earn by shoveling snow,
But there was just none on the ground.
I soon did find it was a very tough go,
I realized there were no jobs to be found.
But then a thought came to me on my deck,
I could make cash betting football with Eck!
I received an "A" and a "Nice work." (Again, it was a small school, and I was only like 15.) And to explain, the "Eck" in the last line was my teacher, Mr. Eck, and I did indeed bet football games with him (I think I came out ahead, too).
For those not big on poetry, like me, this is an example of an English sonnet. Also commonly known as a Shakespearean sonnet. Ol' William didn't invent the form, but he did help to popularize it. It differs from the classic Italian sonnet in that its end rhyme scheme is a-b, a-b, c-d, c-d, e-f, e-f, g-g. Additionally, I learned that the term, "Sonneteers," for people who write sonnets, of course, can be used as an insult, apparently. I plan to start using this myself, although presumably inaccurately.
Finally, to end on a sad note, I recently found out that my teacher passed on about a year ago. So RIP, Mr. Eck. Thanks for being a fun, and informative English teacher, and for teaching us "Liar's Poker," which is a gambling game using dollar bill serial numbers.