A message to my fellow writers

GhostwriterAnd an offer to the readers…

One thing which I think is important to remember, I have to continually move this back to the forefront of my mind, and it’s probably something all my fellow writers out there can take a little comfort in, or maybe readjust our expectations.

We write, we are the writers. Our readers read, this is what they do. And while we all yearn and scratch for feedback and input and all coveted costumer review, we must remember that many who we beg for words do not feel adequately prepared or properly trained to do so. They would love to convey their opinion of our work, but if their level of confidence and intimacy with the language doesn’t match our own, they may feel intimidated to use their words to talk about ours.

To this end, I am offering a new service; especially geared toward the readers among us who would love to put their opinions into digital print if they could only find the right words. For a mere 99 cents, I will ghost write your review of my book. I will strive to put your unique take of my work into words you will be proud to paste anywhere, I will also do my best to convince you that this truly is the most important work you have ever read.

This way, we all win. The writer gets the reviews they cherish so, and the reader gets a few professionally framed paragraphs explaining their thoughts which they can paste around the internet and feel like a well-spoken, as well as obviously well-read, individual.

Act now before the inevitable laws are passed against this sort of thing!

The Clown at the Top of the Stairs

The Clown at the Top of the Stairs

The Clown at the Top of the Stairs

I closed my eyes as hard as they would go, somehow thinking it would make me quieter. I twisted the knob, deliberately and delicately, praying and hoping the door wouldn’t make any noise as I pushed it open.
I opened my eyes. A scream flew out of my throat when I saw the clown staring at me. I saw the frame and realized it was only a painting. The giant round red nose pulsated, and the clown appeared to swim flat against the wall, one eye at a time bulging. My heart was trying to break free through my throat.

~Yarn, MEOWING ON THE ANSWERING MACHINE