Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 101

Don't Wait, Resonate! (Free for Five Days)

Buy it Here:https://amzn.to/3fWJr4e
If you're sick to death of this damn pandemic...
If you're pissed as hell at the bullshit storm unleashed on a daily basis by Cheeto Twitler, the Megalomaniac Moron in Chief...
Why wait? Grab a copy of this pissed-off poetry volume and commiserate!
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Some like it snarky, especially when it comes to politics and particularly when it comes to the spray-tanned parasite occupying the White House.
But for some, snarky doesn't go far enough. 
This book takes it all the way to scathing. 
If that's the way you like your tea, get it FREE from May 20th to May 24th.
Support independent snark today. Granted, it's no stimulus check, but it's a book with a bite to inspire you to keep up the fight. Get yours!

Ornery Poetry Story Time: Lotus Laments

Image copyright Carlo Paulasso
Always believing him out of her reachThere was a subtle trembling in her speechWhenever she had something to reportAs she daydreamed of being his consort
But dreams become nightmares for foolish girlsHe stole a treasure more precious than pearlsNever could she believe he was that manA cur in an alley grabs what he can
She believed him to be a righteous gentQuickly from her heart was that belief rentHe was a doctor, she minded his kidsShe is left with the guilt from what he did
Her innocence died upon that cold nightThere is nothing on Earth can make it right
Lotus Lakshmi Martha Clifford13 March 1963

Sharing with these sites:

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

http://godoggocafe.com (for Promote Yourself Monday)
NotesIf all you wanna see is the poetry, this is is your stop. If you wanna take note of the notes, stick around!
I am very grateful to the folks at the Sunday Muse blog for providing this photo. It turned out to be the push I needed to get out of my stuck place with my WIP, The Ballad of Gerry Clifford.
Lotus is the older sister of the titular character. She was adopted into the large, loving Clifford family when she was six years old. She wrote this sonnet after being molested at twelve years old by the doctor whose children she babysat for.
If you would like to see more snippets from this and other stories as they develop, please click the following link to check out your options.
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-naughty-netherworld.html
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)

Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
Cross-posting to the following locations
http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com
http://fishypoets.blogspot.com/
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack
http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress
http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

Rainbow Snippets: From Behind: A Rough Landing

Image copyright Alexander Andropovhttps://pixabay.com/illustrations/sun-sunset-sunrise-sky-mars-red-3594498/
After a dozen stomach-churning spirals, the plasma jets stabilized the craft, which landed at the base of a wind-blasted mountain range covered in dunes of red sand. The passenger looked curiously at her companions.
“Why has your form not shifted?” she inquired. “Surely a human could not survive in this place.”
“We are not human,” the officer appearing to be a petite Asian woman of around forty years of age replied. “We only take on the appearance of humans.”
~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~
Follow the link to see last week's snippet.https://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2020/05/rainbow-snippets-wild-ride.html
http://www.facebook.com/groups/rainbowsnippets
Notes:This snippet is an excerpt from a WIP short story that was recently published at  blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts. You can read the entire submission here. https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/contests/41/submissions/16666/
If you enjoy the story, please consider signing up for a free Reedsy account and giving it a thumbs up. Reedsy features a new story contest every week, plus editing and publishing services.
https://reedsy.com/r/cara-h
This story will eventually become part of a novelette which is part of a collection of stories ranging from slightly spicy to Habanero. The tentative title for the collection is A Fine Mess in Space and Time.
Gamma Iridians are a shape-shifting species from the planet Gamma Iridion. Mistress Kali and Mistress Nyx are Gamma Iridians. The unhappy passenger is Paraji, a Rakshesha (female Rakshasa). Paraji is Mistress Kali's past lover, and Mistress Nyx is Mistress Kali's current paramour. 
Paraji's desire for revenge on Mistress Kali for spurning her led to the mess that the trio is currently in. Check out Paraji's Prisoners for the sizzling back-story. This book is for mature audiences only. 
https://amzn.to/2yyidQM
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)


Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
Cross-posting to the following locations
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack
http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress
http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

What Pegman Saw + WeWriWa: An Afternoon in Providence

Magicpiano / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/...)
Pegman strode into Providence on the 130th anniversary of H.P. Lovecraft’s birth, carrying a picnic basket. He strolled around the grounds of Butler Hospital at 345 Blackstone Boulevard. Pegman knew that this was the place where Winfield Scott Lovecraft, the father of Howard Phillips Lovecraft, the progenitor of the Cthulhu Mythos, lived out the final five years of his life.
By Will Hart from Fullerton, U.S.A. - flickr.com/photos/cthulhuwho1 - cthulhuwho1.com - youtube.com/user/CthulhuWho1 - A_22 College Hill - H. P. Lovecraft's Final Home - The Samuel B. Mumford House (1825) - 65 Prospect Street (at Meeting Street) - Looking East-South-East, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17954645

Pegman walked on, lingering for a moment at 22 Prospect Street, the house where HPL lived out the final four years of his life before succumbing to cancer. 
Will Hart from Fullerton, U.S.A. - flickr.com/photos/cthulhuwho1 - cthulhuwho1.com - youtube.com/user/CthulhuWho1 / CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/...)

He admired the plaque commemorating the author, the value of whose work was primarily recognized posthumously.
Kenneth C. Zirkel / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/...)
Pegman continued to Swan Point Cemetery.
Image Sourcehttps://www.flickr.com/photos/strangeinterlude/40695488/
When Pegman reached Lovecraft’s grave, he sat down and procured a bottle of wine and two glasses from his picnic basket. He was shortly joined by a spirit.
“Ah, Pegman!” Lovecraft greeted. “Could you perchance spare a spot of wine?”
~Aunt Cie, the Ornery Old Lovecraft Devotee~
http://wewriwa.blogspot.com
https://whatpegmansaw.com/blog/
NotesFor the moment, I am going to continue combining my Weekend Writing Warriors posts and Pegman adventures. I am planning to eventually publish a compilation of Pegman tales. The work that my son and I are doing on the crummy old mobile home to put it on the market takes up a lot of my time. We live approximately 125 miles away from the mobile home's location and try to go there three days a week, so the drive is a job in itself and my health isn't wonderful.
I feel like the Pegman stories introduce readers to my writing style. If you like the way I work it (no diggity) and want to bag it up, follow this link for ways to support me and bag up some more good stuff to read.
https://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-naughty-netherworld.html
Cancel culture being what it is, I know that if I were to not assert my rejection of Lovecraft's xenophobic beliefs, I would be accused of harboring the same. Lovecraft was the product of a very strange upbringing in a racist and xenophobic era. My further thoughts on this can be found at the following link, along with my poem, Mr. Lovecraft's Zoo.
http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2020/04/napowrimo-2020-day-8-words-for.html
And now, before we get into the icky, sticky, nit-picky legalese, here is a song to enjoy while reading the post.



The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)


Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
Cross-posting to the following locations

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com

http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press

https://pegmaninthenetherworld.blogspot.com/

https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack

http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

Tackle It Tuesday: Tackling the Truth Part 1: I Suck At Blogging

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
I am a walking contradiction. It isn't that I set out to deceive anyone, but I'm not always forthcoming. This may be part and parcel of the fun shenanigans played by a brain with bipolar disorder. (Type 2)
When I am hypomanic, I tend to be very forthcoming.
When I am depressed, I withdraw because I don't figure that anyone wants to hear anything that I have to say.
When I'm euthymic, it's somewhere in between, only without the self-loathing. On one hand, I don't feel like I have anything to hide. On the other hand, I figure nobody needs to know anything that I don't feel like revealing.
I have a high degree of social anxiety. Sometimes the hypomanic component overrides this, but it always comes back. This is why I may have a day where I'm waltzing around promoting my faboo posts on blog hops, and the next day I am overwhelmed and may not be able to reply to comments for a long time.
People tend to feel that someone who doesn't reply to comments right away is simply a rude a-hole. Most of the time, I find that people are overwhelmed by trying to do too many things, for instance, they may have a job and a family and are also trying to create and promote. Also, many people have anxiety and other psychological issues and these can sideline them. I tend to assume in most cases that the person who didn't reply isn't rude, they're simply overwhelmed.
There are two things that I suck at. Sheesh, I wish it was only two. Truth be told, I suck at everything, but these are the two things that pertain to this discussion.
I suck at blogging. Seriously, I am not a good blogger. Someone once said that being a blogger and being a writer are not the same thing, and boy howdy is that ever true. 
I suck at promotion and networking and all that kind of happy crappy. I seriously wish I had the money to hire someone to do it for me because I make such a mess of it. This ties into the whole sucking at blogging thing.
Here's how I messed things up this time.
On Sunday, I thought: "Say, let's do some blog hops with my Sunday Dinner post!"
On Monday, I thought: "Well, let's continue with that..."
On Tuesday, I was still trying to get to all the blog hops that I thought it would be a good idea to share that post with.
There are some of y'all out there who participate in a metric butt-ton of blog hops every week and I have to admit that I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU DO IT! That right there is a full-time job. Maybe (probably) I'm just stupid. But my hat would be off to you if I wore a hat. I could take off my pants, socks, or shirt, but ain't nobody wants to see that.
I have a group of goals (more like a cluster f**k of goals) that I'm trying to make happen. Some of them I've been trying to make happen for years. Admissibly, it's harder for me because I'm not a social butterfly. I'm more of a social hermit crab. My attitude tends to take one of two forms.
1) I scuttle up, present my work, and say "here ya go, love it or leave it." Then I scuttle off to make something else.
2) I scuttle up, present my work, and whimper "please don't be mean to me!" Then I scuttle off and withdraw into my shell for a week or so.
Now, let's talk about me for a minute.
I've been belittled on many occasions for not honing in on JUST ONE BIG THING WITH LASER FOCUS!!!111!! I've also been belittled for having shaky self-esteem. I always beat myself up for both of these "shortcomings." 
Why would I put "shortcomings" in quotation marks?
Because I don't think these things are shortcomings. It sucks to have poor self-esteem, but how the actual hell do people think it helps someone overcome their low self-esteem when you're berating them for having low self-esteem? Improving one's self-esteem isn't the kind of thing that happens overnight.
People with low self-esteem have one thing in common. We have all been abused. Whether this abuse comes from family, schoolmates, or society at large, we've been abused. Abuse gets internalized, and it can take a long time to reverse that process. Often, it is never fully reversed.
The self-esteem issue is a post in itself, so I'm going to table that for now.
As to being unable to hone in on one target with laser focus and pigeonhole myself into a niche, I've tried that. Again and again and again. I have failed at it every time. 
It took me 54 years to learn some important things about me. First, I have ADD. This has an effect on the way I interact with the world and what it throws at me. Combine ADD with bipolar disorder and you're pretty well guaranteed to have a person who will not do well trying to have LASER FOCUS!
ADD affects the way I write. I'm a prolific writer, but I go off on sidetracks. I learned that instead of trying to write focused novels, I need to write collections of novelettes that have a central theme and that can work together or be read as separate short stories. 
My thought process works a lot like the way time works according to Dr. Who.

What I'm getting around to is this:
My writing comes first. I get very upset when I don't do it. I hate the fact that I have to promote it. It makes me very anxious. I know that I'm an acquired taste that most people don't tend to acquire. So is my writing. I doubt that I'll ever make a lot of money off my writing. But I can't hold a normal job, so I'm trying to find alternative ways to make money.
I need to promote the alternative means, just like I need to promote the writing.
But then people get angry with me for promoting...well, anything, really.
Anyway...
Here is what I'm getting around to.
I didn't mean to make anyone angry at me. I'm sorry if I didn't reply to your comment yet. You may think I'm a jerk, but I didn't mean to be. I'm still trying to refine my process, and I may never be any good at any of this. 
Thanks for reading. I'm going to go make some soda bread now.
~Your Ornery Old Aunt Cie~

Rainbow Snippets: A Wild Ride

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/artmatic-voyager-moon-starry-sky-73182/
A spacecraft resembling a high-tech acorn wobbled drunkenly into the Martian atmosphere. Inside the ship, two Gamma Iridian officers in the guise of human females frantically worked the controls to keep the craft upright. A third woman sat strapped into a passenger seat, her onyx eyes wide with terror in her perfect porcelain face. She ran her fingers into the mane of a grand griffin, who sat contentedly chewing on what appeared to be a roast. The unhappy passenger made a face.
“I guarantee, Griffy, you would be extremely unhappy if you knew that hunk of meat was actually a lump of synthesized space algae,” the woman sighed.
~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~
http://www.facebook.com/groups/rainbowsnippets
NotesThis snippet is an excerpt from a WIP short story currently in the works for the https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/fantasy/write-about-an-animal-species-that-doesn-t-exist-i/prompt. The short story will be incorporated into a Carnal Invasion novelette tentatively titled "From Behind." 
Gamma Iridians are a shape-shifting species from the planet Gamma Iridion. The two Gamma Iridians attempting to pilot the craft are Mistress Kali and Mistress Nyx. The unhappy passenger is Paraji, an ancient vampire sorceress, originally from India. Paraji is Mistress Kali's past lover, and Mistress Nyx is Mistress Kali's current paramour. 
Paraji's desire for revenge on Mistress Kali for spurning her led to the trouble that the trio is currently in. Check out Paraji's Prisoners for the sizzling back-story. This book is for mature audiences only. 
https://amzn.to/2yyidQM

The Inevitable Legalese and Other Blah-Blah
Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
This post is published on the following sites:
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack
http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress
http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress
Support the Naughtiness!http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-naughty-netherworld.html

What Pegman Saw in Quinghain, Haibei

Image copyright Gwen24 on Pixabay
https://pixabay.com/photos/kumbum-monastery-qinghai-temple-2764454/
On an alternate version of Earth, Pegman watched as four figures, two men and two women, fell through a wormhole in front of a lonely temple in the deserted city of Quinghain, Haibei. The young Chinese woman gasped in horror as she glanced about the eerily silent scene. None of the quartet spoke aloud, but they could hear one another’s thoughts.
“We have come to the Far East,” a tall, Middle Eastern man in cleric’s robes mused.
“What year is this?” wondered a fair-complexioned Caucasian man, also clad in cleric’s garb.
“It’s like this place is a reflection of the world,” the Japanese-Caucasian woman with piercing blue eyes noted. “The color seems to have been washed out of everything.”
“Where has everyone gone?” the Chinese woman demanded. “I must know what happened to the people!”
Before the others could stop her, the panicked woman hurried away into the abandoned city.
~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~
http://wewriwa.blogspot.com
https://whatpegmansaw.com/blog/
http://www.facebook.com/groups/snippetsunday
NotesIt has been an age since I did a Weekend Writing Warriors or Sunday Snippet. I want to get back in the swing of things. I am working on multiple projects including a collection of Pegman flashes, so I thought this flash would be a good place to get back in the game 
The characters in this Pegman flash are part of the Carnal Invasion series. I am currently working on a new Carnal Invasion epic called "A Fine Mess in Space and Time." I am projecting that it will take about five years to complete this project.
The characters featured in this flash are a group of vampire-werewolf hybrids who are having a bit of bad luck with wormholes.
I created the Weekend Writing Warriors and What Pegman Saw banners using stock images on Pixlr. Please feel free to use them if you'd like. No credit is necessary.
The Inevitable Legalese and Other Blah-Blah
Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
This post is published on the following sites:
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://pegmaninthenetherworld.blogspot.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack
http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress
http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress
Support the Naughtiness!http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-naughty-netherworld.html

Insecure Writers' Support Group 6 May 2020

https://pixabay.com/photos/pagan-altar-goddess-altar-wicca-1034856/
Parental Advisory for the entire post.
I tend to liberally sprinkle my writing with salty language. If your parents don't want you reading the colorful words, then hit the back button on your browser.
The question is: Do you have any rituals that you use when you need help getting into the Zone?
The short answer is "no."
But that would be a pretty crap post, so we'll go on.
A long time ago, I used to do mystical rituals every night. I know this question isn't referring to mystical rituals, but hold on, it ties in.
A long time ago, I used to do mystical rituals every night, but my focus wasn't right most of the time. I was a very unhappy person who had a lot of trauma from my past that I was blocking out, and I had an improperly diagnosed major mental illness.
Now, there are a lot of old school uncool (as opposed to old school cool) practitioners of the craft who say that individuals living with mental illness should never do magic. I say, fuck a whole lot of that noise. Getting in tune with the elemental forces and with the planetary and universal energies can be calming, grounding, and healing. The trouble is, that wasn't what I was doing and I didn't have much (as in, I didn't have jack shit) in the way of Earthly guidance.
I was in a lot of pain and I felt a lot of unloved. I was trying to find someone to love me. I wanted friends who wouldn't leave me, and I wanted a fairytale Happily Ever After. I was married, and he was a decent guy who today I consider a very important part of my forever family, but we have been divorced since 1994, and it was for the best. We were drawn to each other because both of us came from dysfunctional families. We were both badly damaged. We tried to save each other, but as time went on, things became more and more toxic.
Anyway, no, I don't have any rituals for getting into the zone. But I would like to start doing the other kind of rituals again, this time with a different focus. I'm thinking that maybe I could combine the two things. When I am having trouble writing, perhaps spray a little essential oil and try to meditate on getting myself back in tune with the energies of the planet.
There is disruption in my life at this time, and I've been depression sleeping. For those who don't know, I have rapid-cycling type 2 bipolar disorder. I went from hypomania, where I was feeling like I'm on track and it's only a matter of time until people discover that weird fiction is cool and they'll be clamoring for mine to feeling like nobody will ever want to read my work and I'll die destitute like my literary heroes, H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. 
I'll never again buy into the belief that I'm a bad writer. I'm not. I'm a weird writer, and that isn't everyone's thing, nor is it a thing that tends to lend itself to becoming popular. But it's my thing, and I love it, and I wouldn't trade it to write a Twilight or a Fifty Shades of Gray. (Yuck to both of those.) 
What I am bad at is promoting myself. I'm very shy, and trying to sell myself goes against my nature. I wish the writing could speak for me, but it doesn't entirely, and I'm reclusive and kind of prickly. When it comes to promotion, I often feel as if I'm pretending to be something I'm not. 
This is one of the reasons that I tend to be unflinchingly honest about myself, even though I know it tends to make people uncomfortable. People only want the Happy Crappy, the Feel-Good Story, the Happy Ever After. I can't give that. I live in the middle of a vicious cycle, and I always will. Medications are not "one size fits all," and they make me manic and psychotic anyway. I don't like being either of those things. 
I also don't think it's right that people like me are pushed into poverty and then told that we deserve to be poor because it's impossible for us to work "normal" jobs. If there's anything this damn pandemic has taught us, it should be that the "normal," nine-to-five, five days a week system is broken. There are a lot of jobs that can and should be done remotely. It would be better for the planet and better for us as a collective. It would also allow a fair number of disabled people to work where they currently cannot. There's a lot that needs fixing, and it's high time that it was addressed.
So, let me thank you for coming to my TED rant. If you have a ritual that works to get you into the Zone, good on ya. Maybe someday I will too.
~Your ornery old Aunt Cie~

www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com
Here are some places where you can find/support my work if you're so inclined.http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-naughty-netherworld.html
And now, the unavoidable legalese blah-blah

Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

Please do not repost

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

This post is cross-posted to these sites:

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com

http://publish0x.com/naughtynetherworldpress

https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack

http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

Poetic Pandemic Preview: The Canopy Bed Digital Text Art Manipulation

Click to enlargeThe Canopy Bed Version 2
I was experiencing massive frustration in trying to get my shape poem, The Canopy Bed, to conform to Kindle Publisher's format and all fit on one page, even after I reformatted the page in Word and shrank the font. It occurred to me that I could take a screenshot of the shrunk-down version of the poem. I simply pasted the screenshot into MS Paint and saved it as a JPEG.
The poem looked a little bland all on its own, so I found an image on Pixabay. I then opened the image using Pixlr's free image editor (http://pixlr.com) and layered the poetry JPEG over the top, increasing the poem's transparency. I also added a "dust" effect that I felt enhanced the image. 
I don't get squat from Pixlr for telling you about them, except for the satisfaction of sticking it to Adobe for their skeevy ways. I feel that even the free version of Pixlr is a strong competitor for Photoshop, and I don't have to pay a monthly subscription fee to use it. Having a competitive free version of their software available for broke-asses like me makes Pixlr the good guys and gals of the digital art software world, while Adobe are the sketchy, mustache-twirling villains tying broke digital artists to railroad tracks by putting evil DRM in the software that these poor souls paid big bucks for. 
Planned obsolescence is a sleazy game of dirty pool and I don't like it. So, if I ever do start making money off my work, I will purchase the paid version of Pixlr, and Adobe can go lick a cactus, right alongside of Apple. My iPhone 7 decided to go tits up yesterday morning, with no warning signs such as the battery not charging as quickly or not holding a charge as long. 
I had always piggy-backed the phone onto my computer with a lightning cable, and it worked fine and dandy. Sometimes if the computer went to sleep, the phone would stop charging. This is what I figured had happened when I found the phone lying on my computer desk dead this morning. No big, I thought. Now that the computer's awake, the phone will charge back up.
No dice.
I took the phone out to the car to try and give it a quick boost from the car charger, which usually wakes it up in less than a minute. It was still unresponsive. So, I brought it inside and plugged it into a wall outlet to charge. Nothing was shaking. My son took it up to his room to charge it on his wireless charger. It remained dead, so we called the time of death for the damn thing at about 12:30 PM, and I ordered a Samsung Galaxy 10 that I'll be paying off for the next two years. Except for iCloud, I've had it with Apple.
This image fits in the book, but I realized that it might be difficult for some people to make it out on their tablets, computers, or smartphones. So I decided to create a web version and include a link in the book.
The new book is called Poetic Pandemic and it is due for release in the second week of May. You can wait for the free promo announcement shortly after release, and pick up a copy then. As I always say, free is my favorite price.
In the meantime, if you haven't already grabbed your copy of my first poetry volume, Another Autumn, why not check it out now? It's only 99 cents, which is pretty close to free. Or, if you have Kindle Unlimited, you can borrow a copy. 
Here is your handy link. https://amzn.to/3aExYT5
Now you can't say I never gave you anything. I have just given you a fantabulous digital picture and a link to some ornery poetry. What more could you want, except, you know, to win the lottery or something like that?
Cheers, Your ornery old Aunt Cie
And now for the acknowledgments and legalese blah-blah
The background image behind the words is copyright Ajay Kumar Singh.https://pixabay.com/photos/planet-lonely-spark-night-universe-4848364/
Contents of the poem, the transformative image utilizing the poem, and this explanatory post are copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
This poem is published on the following sites:
http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
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What Pegman Saw in the Snows of Kilimanjaro

Pegman saw the ghost of a musician named Gerry Clifford wandering through the snows of Kilimanjaro, lost in troubled thought. Pegman wished that he could say something to comfort Gerry. However, he had been strictly admonished not to interfere with the fates of those he observed, so he watched Gerry kick the snow and engage in a fruitless monologue with himself.
Pegman had an idea. He began tapping his fingers on the rock that he sat on. Although Gerry couldn’t hear the sound, he could sense it, and began to speak in rhyme.
“What’s the sense in setting her free, when I love her, and she loves me? You don’t call it quits you work through the rough bits. Babe, give me the chance and I’ll make you see.”
Feeling hopeful now, Gerry flapped his great dark wings and took to the sky.
Pegman looked to the vast horizon, smiling.
notesLately, I have primarily been working with Reedsy's prompts (https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/) to help me complete Team Netherworld's forthcoming novel(s), but I really missed the Pegman prompts.
Then it came to me like a flash--like a vision.
I should also publish a yearly volume of Pegman flashes.
When Pegman flashes you, you don't see it. But you may feel his presence, and you may even become inspired, as Gerry has been. 
The creation of this piece was inspired by the 25 April 2020 What Pegman Saw prompt. Check it out.
https://whatpegmansaw.com/2020/04/25/kilimanjaro-tanzania/ 
You can join Pegman every week for a new prompt.
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And now, the unavoidable legalese blah-blah

Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

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