Splinker's Daily Affirmation: We feel good, so you won't have to.

RELAX.  WHY THE RUSH?

Don't worry.  You'll get there in plenty of time.  Meanwhile, wasn't there something you wanted to do?

Splinker's Silver Lining

Hello Splinkervillians!  Believe it or not, this is a serious post. In these troubled times, when so many people seem to be doing things other than reading my books, it's a good idea, and a bit of a chore, to find a silver lining or two in life.

So today, I want to talk about two of the world's most beloved people -- Jews and Arabs!
Not just any Jew or Arab, but Israelites and Syrians!  Now, if you're like me, the phrase Jews and Syrians conjures up a very specific image.

OY! I'm the Jew! He's the Arab!



I'm the Jew.  He's the Arab!

NO!  I'm talking about bearded eternal enemies.  I mean, the chances of these two people making nice are less than the chances of you getting off Viagra's email list.  It ain't gonna happen.

Israel and Syria remain in a state of war with each other. Syria is in the middle of a civil war.  Israel is gearing up for a little fun in Iran.  I mean, the whole place is a mess. No way this is ever going to end well for any of us.  We're screwed.

We could sure use a silver lining. 

Don't despair, because I found one.  Apparently, the civil war in Syria is something of a health hazard for the people who live there. And their hospital system isn't what it used to be, and it used to be pretty bad!

So there's this place by the Israeli border where Syrian doctors or army men or whatever are bringing patients who are too sick to be treated in Syria.  Why? Because their mutual enemy (that's Israel) has patrols in the area and when they see a civilian (a/k/a 'person') in need of medical help, they take that person and bring them to an Israeli hospital.  There, Jews (a/k/a 'people') administer the best care they can to Syrians (again, a/k/a 'people').  According to the left-wing, propaganda wuss machine (a/k/a 'NPR Radio'), this has happened more than 177 times so far.

I bring this to your attention not because I think Jews are better or more caring or because I am particularly fond of Hummus.  I bring this up because sometimes I forget that people (a/k/a you and me) all have a little spark of holiness in them and that is something that I want to remember.  Almost as much as I want to remember where I put the car keys.

I mean, if you're hell bent on killing each other, there are worse ways to behave.

For you news junkies concerned about things like names of places and facts, Click Here.

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: November 25, 2013

If you're table looks anything like this, or even if it's just a bunch of food in a crowded room, you don't need me to tell you what to be thankful for.

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: November 24, 2013

FUCK YOU.  I have my own problems.

Splinker's Daily Affiramation: November weekend before Thanksgiving.

Go find someone to hug.  Preferably someone you know.

Not me.  Idiot.

Splinker's Poetry Slam Finale!!! The Seventh Deadly Sin!



Hello Splinkervillians!  I came SOOOOOO close to ensnaring --- er, I mean enticing -- a scantily clad woman with my last poem.  But in the end, she slipped away and I was left holding ... nothing.  Yeah, that's it.  Nothing.








I have to admit, I'm getting a little concerned.  I mean, Sloth was hot enough to turn ice into cream.  If that couldn't get a woman of questionable standards to throw herself at me, I don't know what will.

DUH!

 Well, nothing I can do about it now.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  So without further ado, or any ado for that matter, I give you the seventh deadly sin:

ANGER

You gave me everything, delivered with a hungry mouth.
     Tease.
All taken away, erased
by a few words.

Lips that poured forth and lips that took in
sharp, electric pleasures.
Now withdrawn, thin, petulant.

Not satisfied,
you crushed my sanctuary.
with so few words;
the work of hands meant for dark caresses.

A touch.
The gentlest of touches every now and again
were all I desired.
And you took them away.

Now it's winter and I am old,
warmed only by memory.
My fingers stiff and numb,
unable to hold onto anything.
Not even anger.

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: Novermber something

God didn't give you an inner light just so you could sit in the dark and spank one out.  Go do something!  And shut the door on your way out please!

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: November 20, 2013

If you don't dance at least once in this life, then you'll go through your entire life without dancing.  Personally, that doesn't bother me. 

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: November 19, 2013

 There comes a point when it's time to admit that you're not fooling anyone.

 

 

 

Splinker's Seven Deadly Sins: Number 5!!!!!

I'd like to thank the following scantily clad women for responding to my poetry the way Nature intended:








But I'm not concerned, because I still have two deadly sins to go and I've got a warm, fuzzy feeling about this next one.  I'd ask you ladies to try to contain your excitement, but we all know that's not going to happen!  Because the gloves are off.  I purchased a whole new bag of adjectives from Ebay and I'm not going to leave any out.

Read it again, baby!

Be careful not to pop any buttons while tearing your clothes off, as I give you ...

GREED

Gifts surrendered in the dark,
you give me everything.
"More."  A whispered command disguised as request.
I take you again.

You are soft and yielding,
a hot cocoon, my place of transformation.
But I am hard and demanding. 
Obsessed and blind to the world,
a slave to my needs.

The weight of desire, always unquenched,
drives me to my knees;
at once your supplicant and master.

My battle cry, a whisper.
            surrender

and you do.
and you will.
and I will always want more.

Splinker's Daily Affirmation: November 18, 2013

Hello Splinkervillians! Don't let your depressing life get in the way of improving mine. Buy INSIDE MY SHORTS: 30 QUICKIES today and start making my life better.  Because it takes a village to raise a writer, and it's almost time for me to sneak out of this village before things get ugly.

When someone knocks on your door, turn off the lights.  Chances are it's just LIFE trying to give you lemons and, really, who the hell wants to spend all day making lemonade?

 

Splinker's Daily Affirmation.

Life got you down?  So tired that even the thought of sleep is exhausting?  Do you suffer from depression? Anxiety?  Aches and pains?  Is the world just too much sometimes?  I thought so.  You're the reason the rest of us need uplifting messages.  Stop bumming us out!








Until that happens, remember:

When this world knocks you down, get back up.  Because life is a banana peel and we are your audience.

Splinker's Poetry SLam!!: Another Deadly Sin.

Hello?  Hellloooo.....  Despite my theory  it appears that poetry, at least my poetry, acts as a deterrent to scantily clad women.  Oh well. Thank God I'm a sock puppet.  I'll always have each other.

As I was writing another excellent chapter of "Take A Breather," the prequel to "I've Been Deader," a near perfect blend of horror and comedy, it occurred to me there might be a few hotties just waiting for that next poem.  That must be it!  They don't want to throw themselves at me too early.  That's understandable.  Deciding whether you want Splinker now or if you can wait a little while and have Splinker and another poem; I don't envy everyone who is struggling with that question. 

Allow me to ease and increase your suffering with...

 

SLOTH

I will take my satisfaction later,
maybe after you are restored.

For now I am done with moving,
and I will rest my mouth here,
and here
      and here.

Don't move.
Don't disturb my lazy adventure,
I beg you.
Let me rest my weary hands here,
and here
      and here.

You are charged, electric.
You are tension and need,
but I am molasses, floating in amber.
So let me rest my weary body here;
      always here.

You complete me! (Especially if you have hands).

Welcome Splinkervillians!  Are you a scantily clad woman in search of shameless flattery?  If so, you've come to the right place.  I am happy to announce the grand opening of Splinker's Shameless Poems for Scantily Clad Women!

All you have to do is tell me three things about yourself.  I take your answers, put them in my Questionable Poetry Machine (patent pending), and out pops a poem, individually tailored to suit at least one of your needs.

In addition to your information, feel free to let the machine know if you want a love poem, horror, comedy, or anything else.  I can't promise that the machine will comply (stupid poetry machine), but I can't promise anything else either.  Just enter everything into a comment below and the name you want me to address you by.

Act now, and I won't even ask you to buy any of my books!
Too late!  Don't forget to check out "I've Been Deader" and "Inside My Shorts: 30 Quickies," available in my garage and at Amazon.com.  You can even find me at Barnes & Nobel these days if you are a Nook addict.

Good luck!

Splinker's Seven Seadly Sins Series

Enough! How many times must we apologize for Haiku?!

For the record, if even one scantily clad woman had shown up on my doorstep, or sent me a political career killing tweet, I would have been happy to stop at three deadly sins.  Unfortunately for both of us that didn't happen. I did have one offer from a Jehovah's Witness, but no matter how hard I tried to read between the lines, I don't think she meant what I wanted it to mean. 

SO, my hand is being forced and you must suffer with ...

PRIDE

You take my heart, paid for with
a kiss from soft lips,
like you are granting a pardon.

My words are given, not required;
my overblown poems and declarations,
elicit entitlement, not gratitude.
I kneel before you at the bed,
and you accept my worship with a sleepy smile.

I give you everything I am and we both agree you deserve more.

May you one day get over yourself,
as easily as you got over me.

=============================
The other three poems, previously posted, follow:

GLUTTONY

Somehow, the night illuminates you,
naked and splayed against clean, white sheets,
Your scent, the scent of gin and lotus blossoms,
stokes my hunger drawing me down, until I am lost,
no longer thinking.

Taste, you whisper,
and I am consumed with devouring,
unable to stop until there is nothing left of us.
We are a husk, a shell, emptied and drained,
even so, I need more.
Even so, you whisper Taste.

 ===========================

ENVY

It eats at me,
ever since that late spring night,
when you first touched me, and took everything.

All my hunger, all my wants,
all my yearning, all my need.

You kissed me and it all went away. 

But then you left, and it all came back,
and it eats at me.
==========================

LUST

 

You taste like Saturday night,

with a hint of Sunday confession.

Everything lingers,

trails of smoke follow your touch

and I burn.

Dear Diary: November 13, 2012

Hello Diary.  It's me again. I'm sorry for not getting back to you the other day. For some reason, scantily clad women keep showing up at my door and asking me to read them poetry.  Weird.








I'm sorry I'm not using exclamation marks today, Diary.  That's because I'm sad.  I miss Sandy.  Even though parts of her will always be with me, it is not the same. Does that make any sense?

Sigh.  Things were going so well.

Crystal clear, fruitcake! (Click here)

Sandy came over just like she said she would, which is a point in her favor.  Keeping your word is so important these days. As my est training leader says, "Integrity is doing what you said you'd do."  It's funny, I keep going to my est weekends and no one is left -- I mean no one shows up anymore. 

Anyway, so there she was, dressed is something pretty.  I wish I could say she was smiling but she wasn't.  She was too upset about Mr. Mittens. I think loving animals is a good thing, but not when it stops Sandy from smiling.  So that's a point against her, I'm sorry to say.

It's getting crowded in here!

You SHUT UP MR. MITTENS!  That frozen pussy really burns my bacon sometimes, Diary.

So, there we were, alone in my house. There were markers and poster boards on the kitchen table and a bottle of wine.  Because women like to be wooed with wine, Diary.  That's a given.

You'll need more than that, smooth talker!

 

I asked her how she was and told her I thought it was colder than usual for this time of year.  That's called 'small talk' Diary. It's very important to have lots of small talk with dinner.  VERY IMPORTANT.

Sometimes a woman just wants you to nod and nod and nod and nod and nod while she tells you about her day.  So nodding is VERY IMPORTANT as well.  But women, although they are very collectible, I mean beautiful, can be tricky.  Sometimes they will slip in a question during their talking and expect you to talk back to them.  So in addition to being ready for small talk, it is very important to REMAIN ALERT.  Yessir.








Unfortunately, Sandy wasn't interested in small talk.  It was all "Poor Mr. Mittens" this and "Poor Mr. Mittens" that.  So I wasn't able to be engaging, which is every important in the beginning and ending of a relationship.  Instead, I just nodded.

Jersey Girls like their "Yes" men!

Finally, after about a gazillion years, I was able to ask Sandy if she would like a glass of wine, and she said yes!  Then she started talking about other things and I got to nod even more enthusiastically.  And you know that I can be very enthusiastic, Diary!  Yes sir!

But with all that nodding I wasn't paying too much attention.  And that is unfortunate.
Because at one point Sandy paused and said.  "This is good wine."  It was good wine.  In fact it was my last bottle of Boonesberry Strawberry, 1980.  It is always good for a relationship when a woman likes your wine, believe me Diary.  So I kept nodding.

"Is it strawberry," She asked?

I nodded.

"I usually like a fruity wine," she said.

I nodded. 

"It could use some ice," she said.

I nodded again.

Then she got up and walked to the kitchen and I nodded some more.

NOOOO!!!!!!!

Sigh.  But it was too late Diary. The damage was done.  I don't want to talk about this anymore, right now Diary. Please stop asking me about it!  Bad Diary.  I'm going to take a nap now.  We'll probably talk later, you and me.

TTYL.

Splinker's Poetry Slamzzzzz: The Deadly Sin Series!

I think he's overacting.

Don't even try to contain your excitement!  As we enter day three of the Seven Deadly Sin poetry series, I remain optimistic that my endeavors will result in meeting a few dozen scantily clad women.










Keeping in mind the prime purpose of poetry, it's going to be difficult to rev up the heavy breathing factor with....

GLUTTONY

Somehow, the night illuminates you,
naked and splayed against clean, white sheets,
Your scent, the scent of gin and lotus blossoms,
stokes my hunger drawing me down, until I am lost,
no longer thinking.

Taste, you whisper,
and I am consumed with devouring,
unable to stop until there is nothing left of us.
We are a husk, a shell, emptied and drained,
even so, I need more.
Even so, you whisper Taste.

For your convenience, I'm posting the other poems here.  Although it is much more convenient to not bother to read any of them.  Apparently. 

Bad readers.
===========================

ENVY

It eats at me,
ever since that late spring night,
when you first touched me, and took everything.

All my hunger, all my wants,
all my yearning, all my need.

You kissed me and it all went away. 

But then you left, and it all came back,
and it eats at me.
==========================

LUST

 

You taste like Saturday night,

with a hint of Sunday confession.

Everything lingers,

trails of smoke follow your touch

and I burn.

Splinker's semi. No! Semi-daily poetry slam!

It's been a week and no scantily clad women have made themselves available to me.  Except for a few on the internet and my doctors tell me they don't count.  Despite my lack of success, I still believe poetry is only good for wooing women.   That's right, wooing.  It's an old term that your parents probably used when they meant "I'm going to tap that!"

So I will soldier on and pen another poem.  If you are a scantily clad woman, or even a slim man with pretty eyes, feel free to follow my blog, send me racy emails or comment below.  Today's poem:

ENVY

It eats at me,
ever since that late spring night,
when you first touched me, and took everything.

All my hunger, all my wants,
all my yearning, all my need.

You kissed me and it all went away. 

But then you left, and it all came back,
and it eats at me.

Dear Diary: Novermber 12, 2013

Dear Diary:
Oh boy Diary, did I messy -- mess -- things up with Sandy this week!  Sometimes I think that you are my only friend, Diary, except for maybe the Felix the Cat clock in the kitchen; but lately we seem to argue more than agree on anything other than the time.  That clock is so stubborn it drives me crazy sometimes.  Just bats in the barn crazy!

Can we just watch Fox News for one friggin' hour?!?

So it looks like it's you and me Diary!  And parts of Sandy :(.  Things started off so great. I mean, after Mr. Mittens was taken care of.  Remember how I said Sandy was coming over and we were going to have a nice dinner together?  Well, make lost kitty posters but I bet we would have had a nice dinner.  Man, I hate, hate, HATE Mr. Mittens!

It was just a fuckin' ice pop!

It was NOT just an ice pop, Mr. Mittens. It was MY ICE POP AND THE LAST ONE!  Now shut up and stay frozen.  You've done enough damage for one week, that's the God's truth.

Anyway Diary, thank goodness for you.  I can tell you anything and you never judge me.



Seriously, can someone put me out of my misery?  CLICK HERE

Sandy came over just like she said she would.  So pretty.  She was wearing a cornsilk short dressy thing.  I think they call it a sundress.  It was as pretty and as golden as her hair.  Her hair is so pretty, Diary!  I just love it. Love it, love it, LOVE IT!

So pretty when there's a little breeze!

I made coffee and there were cookies, only Mr. Hooity Tooity at the Green Grocers calls them "biscotti."  Stupid know-it-all, giving me the high hat like that.  You'll get your's soon enough, Mr. Biscotti.

It's called "toilet paper" you stupid mutt.  Try it sometime.
 

Anyway Diary, we were having such a good time  and -- hold on Diary.  Doorbell. 
TTYL.

Splinker's Poetry Slam!: zzzzz

Is it or isn't it me? I'll never tell!



 That's right.  Another day has come and gone and I'm stuck here with this poem.  So far my poems have failed to attract any scantily clad women -- at least they haven't attracted them to me.  For all I know, you girls are reading my poems, tearing off your clothes and ravishing the first man that knocks on your door.

 

Thanks! Now about switching your cable provider ....

So, I'm going to try again.

 

LUST

 

You taste like Saturday night,

with a hint of Sunday confession.

Everything lingers,

trails of smoke follow your touch

and I burn.

 

 



Dear Diary: November 7, 2013

 
 
 
 

DEAR DIARY:

It's me!!!   Remember when I said that I'd talk about relationships today?  Well, you'll never guess what happened!

Right after I finished my orange ice pop, guess who called?
Give up??



Seriously, why me?

 

Sandy!!!  She's so pretty and sweet.  I could just eat her up.  She wasn't in the eating up mood though, that's for sure.  She was upset about her Kitty.  Apparently, Mr. Mittens had gone missing a few days ago and she wanted to know if I had seen him.  HA! 

 

I don't think Mr. Mittens remembered his mittens!

 Anyway, I told her I hadn't seen Mr. Mittens, because the key to a good relationship is to build trust and I don't think Sandy would trust me very much if she looked in my freezer! 

 

So I asked her to come over and we could make "Lost Kitty" posters.  And she said...

 

YES!!!

 

My first date since my release! Yay!!!   I'll tell you how it went tomorrow diary.  But I think it will just have to be our secret, okay?  OKAY?  Okay.

 

 

TTYL.

Splinker's Poetry Slam

 

I agree!  Poetry is boring.  No one reads it.  It serves only one purpose.  To get the attention of scantily clad women!

So here's hoping you are scantily clad, or at least clean shaven! 

Today's Heartbreaker:

The last sunny day

I remember.
The air -  cool, clean;  a hint of wood smoke.
So many colors.  So bright I could almost hear them.
And that smile, the one everyone talks about?
It was just more than usual that day.

I remember how when the cold, autumn wind died down,
the sun's warmth came flooding back, like the tide,
and I had to smile.

Then seeing you, so close.  Happy.  I smiled more.
I grinned like an idiot on that last sunny day.
Remember?

They told me I have to blog every day!

They Told Me I have To Blog Every Day.

Sometimes, I'm just too tired to create.  So I created this.

LET THERE BE ART!

So you are having trouble kick starting the creative process.  It’s okay, I’m here for you. 

You will find all kinds of advice on the internet how to improve your cooking, writing, acting, performance in the bedroom and other acts of creation.  Some are helpful, especially the ones with pictures, but most are about as useful and inspiring as Herman Cain’s wedding vows.

 

I, however, am a different animal all together.  I’ve been creating for more than forty years and flushing for thirty-eight.  I’ve encountered all kinds of obstacles to the creative process and I’ve developed sure fire workarounds, guaranteed to get you up and running again.  I won’t be sharing any of these with you because, let’s face it, you’re the competition.  So instead you these:

 

1.    Humans are little creating machines.  It’s what we do.  Unfortunately, a lot of us spent our time creating children.  Nothing kills the urge to create more than children.  I mean, who wants to risk making a mistake like that again, right?  Not to worry.  The goal here is to get rid of the children you have, not to burden you with more.   What I’m trying to say is, get the kids out of the house.   Send them to a movie, the mall, sleep away camp – anywhere but here.  You can’t create without space.  If you don’t have space, where are you going to put your creations?  Not here.  I got my own problems.

2    2. Once you get rid of the kids… well, who cares about creating?  You got an empty house, a pocket full of loose change and the remote control.  Sure, you can get busy writing, but you are kid-free!  Go out and do something!

Dear Diary!: November 6, 2013

 
 

Hellooooo Splinkervillians!:  As you know, I am first a giver, second a taker, and third, the guy who makes sure he took more than he gave.  So today, I'm giving you the first of many glimpses into my personal life!

NOT THAT PERSONAL!  PUT THAT BACK!

Feel free to check out my blog for daily updates.  Not that I plan on doing this every day, but you can always check.

 

Dear Diary:

 

What a day! As you know diary, last night I went to get an orange ice pop out of my freezer, only to find that I didn't have any orange ice pops! :(   There were strawberry and lemon, but no orange.  I don't have anything against strawberry or lemon flavors, per se.  But I REALLY wanted orange!

 

Why is he telling me this??

 

I've had a lot of bad times recently and I just wanted to relax with a nice, orange ice pop. 

 

That would be nice, but it's not what I'm looking for.



So imagine my surprise when I went to the freezer this morning to make sure the kitten hadn't gotten away in the middle of the night and found this!

 

 

Yay! LMAO!
 

Stupid kitty had gotten to it first, for all the good it did her.  But still, half an ice-pop is better than none, I always say.

 

 

Well, that's it for today.  Tomorrow I think we'll talk about RELATIONSHIPS!  Night Diary.

xoxoxo

 



Someone else who isn't me: Interview with Scarlett Savage!

Hello Splinkervillians!!  Once again, I am going to put aside my ego and not talk about myself or my work.  That's right.  Instead of reminding you to buy "Inside My Shorts: 30 Quickies" (don't click on it now or you might forget to come back), or promoting my new book, "Take A Breather," available this December! (Assuming I finish it), today's blog is about a topic that few people wish to focus on: Someone else who isn't me.

That's right.  Halloween is over, all my Snicker bars are gone, and the world is ready to forget about zombies.  Or at least my zombies.  Stupid world.




My friends stuck in England tell me that this is what they call women's panties over there!

Now that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, like my prequel, I felt it was time to focus on other writers who are less fortunate than me. But I don't have that kind of time.  So instead, I give you the long awaited, much anticipated, INTERVIEW WITH SCARLETE SAVAGE!

But first, a word from our sponsor:


Word!
 




Now, without further ado, my interview with author, Scarlett whatshername!

 

Me: Hello Ms. Savage, if that is your real name.  First off, have you read “I’ve Been Deader,” and how much did you love it? 

 

Not Me: I have not, but would love to.

 

Me: Well, it isn't like running a marathon or donating a kidney.  Click on the damn link and download it.

 

IT'S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE, PEOPLE!

Me: How did you start your writing career?

 

Scarlett: When I was 6 years old, during a snowstorm (which meant no Saturday morning cartoons), I found a copy of “Little House in the Big Woods” in my teenaged aunt’s bedroom. It was the first book without pictures I’d ever read, but within the first few pages, I made an incredible discovery; the words made pictures in your MIND. I thought then and now that that was just about the coolest thing ever. It took me a week to read it, and when I was done, I thought to myself (being the kind of child I was), “Well, I can do THAT!!” Professionally, I began writing and winning awards for plays while still in college.

 

Me: They make books without pictures?  Tell us about a favorite character from a book.

 

Savage: Just one?? Sorry, gonna have to widen that!!

These are a few of my favorite things!

 

 1) Tom Cullen and Nick Andros from “The Stand” 2) Sherlock Holmes (as we speak, there are two TV shows that are directly based on him and three that are indirectly (Castle, The Mentalist, Beauty and the Beast) 3) Jacky Faber, from the Bloody Jack series 4) Sally J. Freedman, from “Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself” by Judy Blume (that kid IS me at ten) 5) Anna from “My Sister’s Keeper” by Jodi Picoult 6) Becky Bloomwood Brandon from the Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella 7) Higgins from the Bloody Jack series 8) Jacob Winter from “Green Girls” by Michael Kimball 9) Patrick T. Web from “Odds&Ends” by Dustin LaValley (you should interview him, he’s the next Stephen King, and since King’s my idol, I don’t say that lightly) and 10) Scarlett O’Hara, from “Gone with the Wind” by Margaret Mitchell.

 

Me: I know you are an author, but try to keep your answers brief. Keeping in mind that my address is unlisted, where do you dream of traveling to and why?

 

Not me: Anywhere in the UK. I’m 100% Scots, which is rare for a 4th generation American; I was in the middle of a  6-week work trip to London, and sitting in the middle of the paws of the Lion at Trafalgar Sq. when I realized I was pregnant with my firstborn (her grandmother took a picture of her there ten years later!). I’ve never been to Paris and I would love to; also to Australia, Italy, Japan, and Ireland. 

They can take away our royalties, but they can never take away our freedom!  Although if I had to choose between royalties and freedom...

 

Me: Does travel play in the writing of your books?

 

Not Me: In “Broken Raven”, the band Dues Ex Machina does a cross-country tour for their smash album, but the locales don’t really affect the storyline. 

 

Me:  So, a simple "No" then. Tell us about your first time.

 

Scarlett:  Excuse me?

 

Me:  Sorry, that was a typo. Tell us about your current release.

 

Savage: I have two: “Broken Raven” from Taylor Street Books is about an alternative America in which drugs were legalized fifteen years ago; the country is economically booming like never before, but the country is morally polarized like at no other time since the Civil War. A band, Dues Ex Machina (whose members are a microcosm of the country’s varied points of view) win an “American Idol” type contest, and take their first tour as the country (and the band) fight through these upheavals. That one’s released at the end of October 2013. The second, “She Effin’ Hates Me: A Love Story” published by SkyHorse Publishing, is based on my multi-award-winning off-Broadway play, is about a couple, Buddy and Ava, who didn’t make it in their teens getting a second chance in their sixties. Meanwhile, Ava’s daughter Suzanne gets a message that her own daughter Molly is coming home for a quick visit after Freshman Orientation at Vassar, because she has an announcement. Suzanne is terrified that history is going to repeat itself, and she’s about to become a 36-year-old grandmother. After a few days of tense and comical mishaps based on this supposition (esp. when Molly brings home with her a “friend”, a bleached blond overly pierced and tattooed boy named Brandon), Molly’s announcement turns out to be not that she’s pregnant, but gay.

 

Me: We interrupt this answer in order to take a short coffee break.

Click here  It's a good read and shorter than this interview!

 

 

 

Not Me Again: The ultra-liberal Suzanne reacts in a way that no one could have predicted. It’s a story about loving your family for who they are…and more importantly, who they’re not. Tell us about your next release. I’m currently working on sequels to both books, as well as a nonfiction book on the death of Rebecca Zahau (the girlfriend of Jonah Shacknai, pharmaceutical billionaire who was found hanged naked over a high balcony, her hands and feet bound, a t-shirt stuffed so far back into her mouth it ruptured her throat, chunks of her hair were torn out of her head and blood smeared on the wall…and the cop in charge ruled it a SUICIDE. His explanation for the blood? “everyone knows that women get crazy on their periods” despite the fact it was not menstrual blood. This was the same cop, BTW, who blew the Ruby Ridge case for the FBi in the nineties and got several members of a family killed.) I’m also working on a chick lit book called “Thinking With Your Ring Finger”, loosely based on my friendship about my friendship with my ex-husband’s first wife.

 

Me: Fantastic! I have to say that, reading between the lines, I'm flattered that I've had such an influence on your work. But other than me, has someone been instrumental in inspiring you as a writer?

 

Scarlett: Judy Blume; she wrote about things that kids really cared about that no one else had the guts to write about. Laura Ingalls Wilder, who made me fall in love with the written word. Stephen King, as he’s an absolute genius and personal mentor. 

 

Me: Stephen who? 

Something evil resides in those dentures!!

 



Me: Has someone helped or mentored you in your writing career? CONFESS!

 

Not Me: I attended UMaine at Orono (Full scholarship) specifically because I wanted to study with some of the professors he worked with; I was able to meet him and have my work (very favorably) adjudicated on several occasions. I’ve found that other writers love getting emails from up-and-coming writers, are great at giving advice and are great at staying in touch. 

 

Me: Who is your favorite author? [HINT: They Always get this one wrong].

 

Not Me: Of all time? I’d have to stay it’s a tie between Stephen King and Jodi Picoult. 

 

Me: WRONG!  Next question: What was your first sale as an author?

 

Scarlett: My play “The Centerfieldsman” was commissioned by several colleges.

 

Me: Other than playing Farmville, what is the hardest part of writing your books?

 

Not Me: The conflict. In real life, I always try to avoid conflict, and often skip it when I’m re-reading books!!  

 

Me: What does your significant other and family think of your writing career?

 

Scarlett: My husband fell in love with my writing before he fell in love with me; my daughters are very excited every time they attend my plays, and are literally counting the days till my books come out later this month and again in the spring.

 

Me:  I also fall in love with my writing before I fall in love with myself.  Usually all before lunch.

AND I HAVE NO HANDS!

 

Who are your books published with?

Not Me: Taylor Street Books and SkyHorse Publishing.

Me: Using only shadow puppets, describe your writing style.

Savage: I don’t have just one style; my adventure books are very dark with a lot of humor (to accentuate the darkness) and my chick lit books are very light and funny with punctuations of darkness to accentuate the lightness. 

Me: Do you hear from your readers? What kinds of questions do they ask?

Not Me: Most of the time they ask which character is based on me!! About “Broken Raven” they often ask, “Do you believe in the legalization of narcotics?” (YES YES YES); after seeing “Dear Daddy, Love Cassie” I was constantly asked, “Are you a rape survivor?” (again, yes,
survivor being the operative word.) 

WELCOME TO COMFORT, COLORADO!







Me:  Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your book?

 

SCARLETT SAVAGE: Because I have an honest and unique and brave POV for my characters; because I talk about the things people are afraid to admit they think about.

 

Me: Without using pictures, entice us. What future projects are you considering?

 

Not Me: A TV pilot based on my project, “Thinking With Your Ring Finger”; movies based on both my current books; an internet series based on my YA play “I AM A GIRL!!!” (which was the 2008 National Girl Scout Jamboree’s Dramatic Presentation).

 

Me: Okay!  That's it.  I know there were more questions but I'm old and I have to pee again.  Thank you so much for stopping by (via email) for our chat. Good luck with all your endeavors, as long as they don't compete with mine. 

 

If you're looking for a good read but don't need zombies in every chapter, go check out Scarlett Savage!  As always, tips and comments are welcome.