Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 105

Tardy to the Party IWSG

Ornery OwlFree use image from Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay
First things first. Let's get this out of the way before the post begins. I swear. A lot. If you have problems with profanity, let this serve as your warning not to proceed with this post, 'cause it's about to get salty in here. So, strap on your life jackets, and buckle up, Bitches.
Okey dokey, now that's out of the way, so let's hit the Insecure Writers Support Group question for this month. (I swear, I'm always tardy to this party.)
Writers have secrets! What are one or two of yours, something readers would never know from your work?
Let me answer this by saying that I really don't know how to answer this. On one hand, I tend to be pretty transparent, although, on the other hand, I don't really feel like I owe anyone any explanations ever. Unless I crash through the front window of your house while holding a jug of moonshine in one hand and a bong in the other, in which case...well, there again, the explanation for my bad behavior, in that case, is probably pretty obvious.
Anyway, here's a list of the shit that's abnormal about me, in alphabetical order because that is the way I roll.
Attention deficit disorderI didn't know this until I was in my 50s, but it explains a lot, and I have been very misunderstood because of it.
Bipolar disorder type 2I was almost 40 before this was correctly diagnosed.
Diabetes type 2 An ailment that is highly stigmatized, and fuck a whole lot of that. I think the name of the condition should be changed to hypopancreatism. It would be a more accurate description. Diabetes is an obscure Greek term that is kind of meaningless at this point.
Elevated TriglyceridesA common companion with diabetes. Other than this, my cholesterol levels are very good, which is neither here nor there.
Female Reproductive System GlitchesEndometriosis and fibroids, which have hopefully resolved now that I'm three years beyond menopause. 2018 was the Year Of A Lot Of Bullshit With My Reproductive System Which I Don't Even Use But Still Didn't Want To Undergo Major Surgery To Remove It. 
Doctors are very keen to do hysterectomies on older women, but the condition I was experiencing (simple hyperplasia with normal cells) only increases my chances of developing endometrial cancer by 1.6 (that's one point six) percent. I saw no reason to undergo the risks of surgery for such a slight increased risk. Sometimes hysterectomy is the lesser of two evils, but there are reasons to leave the business intact, even if it's dormant.
I also had polycystic ovary syndrome, but my ovaries are now atrophied, so I guess that problem has resolved. I was always told that I'd never be able to have children. Shows to go ya that doctors don't know everything.
I had horrible periods for 40 years, starting at twelve and ending at 52. I didn't bleed, I hemorrhaged. Other than the endometrial hyperplasia, menopause was a walk in the park. I was fortunate to have the longer-lasting but less intense "ember flashes" rather than the nuclear blast hot flashes that some women describe. I refer to menopause as my "red giant" phase. I am now a large white dwarf.
FibromyalgiaI'm one of the lucky ones. I have low-grade, widespread chronic pain rather than excruciating pain. I can do a lot of things that fibromyalgia sufferers with severe pain can't. However, people like me get misunderstood and passed off as "lazy" or making excuses. Being in constant pain drains a person's energy and causes brain fog. I sometimes joke that if I did have dementia no-one would know, because walking around in a fog is my normal state of being. 
In truth, neither dementia nor fibromyalgia is funny. My joke is a bit of gallows humor. I've lost people to dementia, and I will top myself if I am ever diagnosed with it. I don't want to go out that way.
Glaucoma
Hypertension (idiopathic)
HypothyroidismMy thyroid burned itself up when I was 15. Oh, bliss. Oh, joy.
IBSI'm usually fine as long as I take Lactaid before eating ice cream or pudding and as long as I avoid foods with MSG or Splen-don't. It really helped to stop taking Metformin. I was kind of tired of having explosive, uncontrollable diarrhea.
NeuropathyNot diabetes-related. I have neuropathy from back problems and a severe injury to the median nerve in my left arm. I was in such severe pain for a month that I considered suicide to find relief. If it hadn't been for the fact that I knew Medicaid was going to kick in at the beginning of December 2017, I don't think I'd be here writing this. I didn't have insurance, so I couldn't afford to get treatment.
Here is the fun of being a member of the working poor. I had a job. I often worked more than 40 hours a week. I was a contractor. I couldn't afford insurance on my salary. This is the job that fucked up my arm. I had to wait a month for Medicaid to kick in. In the meantime, I was in excruciating pain. Every time I went to sleep, I hoped I wouldn't wake up.
The thing about harshly judging people who become addicted to pain medication is this. When you are in severe constant pain, you will do ANYTHING to stop that pain. Both chronic pain and addiction are conditions that are stigmatized. 
I have lived with low-grade chronic pain for most of my life. It tires me out and a lot of the time I feel like I'm operating in a fog. 
Obsessive-compulsive disorderFor some reason, everyone always thinks that OCD = germophobe neat freak. It actually has a broad spectrum of presentations. Hoarding disorder is a subtype of OCD, and I really have a problem with exploitation shit shows like Hoarders. Next up, what will those whacky Schizophrenics do, amirite, Kiddies? There's nothing like ridiculing people struggling with a major mental illness! Yeehah.
I was going to say there's your answer to what people would never know about me from reading my stories, but I actually do address it. Now, here's the plain truth. While struggling with severe depression and still holding a full-time job, my hoarding problems got severely out of hand. I have never hoarded animals, only items. In all honesty, becoming unable to work a normal job is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I was finally able to address my very serious hoarding problem. 
My old mobile home has taken more than six months to deal with because the only ones working on it are my son and me, and I can't do any heavy lifting. My son is high-functioning autistic. He lives with a degree of agoraphobia (which he can manage as long as he is able to maintain control over the situation), anxiety, and major depression. He's always gotten a ration of shit from my family for not being able to hold a regular job. They refuse to believe that he's autistic because he is able to engage in normal social interaction. My mother says that my son is just "timid" (he isn't timid) and my brother thinks that my son needs to just pull himself up by his bootstraps and "man up." 
If you ask me, my son is a goddamn rock star. Hell, he's better than most rock stars. He's the most humble person you'll ever meet. He puts other people's needs before his own all the time, and when he sets his mind to something, it will happen. Maybe not on someone else's timeline, maybe in a country minute rather than a New York minute, but on one thing you can rely; if he says it's going to happen, it's going to happen.
My love for my son is obvious in my stories. Most of my major female protagonists have sons, nephews, or young male friends whom they would die for if it came to that. Sometimes I throw in a daughter as well, just to mix things up, but if people read between the lines, it's probably obvious that I don't have a daughter. The character tends to be an adjunct.
Moving on with Cie's Health Bullshit...
PTSDThe complex variety. I've endured a lot of abuse in my life. It took me a lot of years to come to the point where I know I may never be able to "love myself," but I sure as hell am going to respect myself enough to not let people abuse me anymore. If you're the sort of person who thinks that I, or anyone else, deserves to be shit on for having a body that you don't find attractive, fuck you. What the hell makes you think I care if you find me attractive? Believe me, I ain't into you.
Then there were all those great guys who preyed on me because they wanted someone with low self-esteem that they could treat like crap, that they could belittle or hit or rape to their shriveled little heart's content and I should consider myself lucky for the abuse. Because crazy chicks are great in bed, amirite? And for anyone who feels the need to tell me that "not all men are like that, and there's a great guy who will love you just as you are," please stow that noise. I'm simply not interested.
I had PTSD after my car was hit by a wave of water washing over the road during a flood, and I eventually overcame it. I don't think I'll ever be over the PTSD caused by bullying and abuse. Hell, let's call it what it is. Bullying is simply another term for abuse.
It took me a lot of years to be able to say that I have been abused, that I did not "ask for" the abuse, and to take a stand that I will not put up with further abuse.
Abuse, particularly sexual abuse, is a common theme in my writing.
In the past, I would have put "borderline personality disorder" on this list, but I have come to the belief that "borderline personality disorder" is a sexist diagnosis, like "hysteria." It is overwhelmingly applied to women. "Borderline personality disorder" is actually a subtype of PTSD. 
People who are given this diagnosis are people who have been abused, often sexually. The tendency for self-injury in women diagnosed with "borderline personality disorder (a problem that I struggled with from my early teens) is a tell. 
Suicide IdeationPart and parcel of the other mental health stuff. I've had less of it since moving to a little rural town in the middle of nowhere with my son. Sometimes I even feel hopeful and inspired.
And now, the big reveal.
Urinary incontinenceYeah, I just love this. It started when I was in my late thirties and by the time I was forty, I was using the Ultra Maximum size of incontinence pads. It was great when I had my period, and by great, I mean it really sucked ass. Between the heavy bleeding and the urine leakage, I had to wear Depends plus an Ultra Maximum incontinence pad. It felt like I was wearing a mattress. 
It's not clear why I developed this lovely problem, but it's probably a combination of neurological and physiological fuckery. Anyway, I have it, and I think that it's one thing that I don't write about, not out of embarrassment but because where the hell would I fit it into one of my stories? 
There are a lot of adults who deal with incontinence. We aren't emotionally immature or losing control of our functions on purpose. I count myself lucky to only be dealing with urine loss. Metformin gave me a taste of what it would be like to have bowel incontinence, and that's a whole other beast. 
Here's the thing: incontinence isn't a joke, and people who live with it still deserve respect. That's why I'm honest about it. 
Those things that you may think it's somehow your birthright to ridicule people for, like their size or their health problems either physical or mental? If you're doing that, you need to be asking yourself why you need a scapegoat. Chances are, you're dissatisfied with yourself and are looking for someone who has it worse to make yourself feel better about your own lousy lot in life. That's called schadenfreude, and it isn't a good look.
So, there you have it. I came to the party. I brought it. And now you know that pretty much the only thing I don't write about is incontinence. 



Ornery Owl is Round and Real and apologizes for nothingFree use image by Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay

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

Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
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What Pegman Saw in Galway

What Pegman Saw in Galway: As Pegman strode through the forest near Galway, he chanced on an archetypal scene. An old woman sat spinning near a cottage over...
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What Pegman Saw in Galway

Yadira spins her magicFree use image from Pixabayhttps://pixabay.com/photos/spinner-irish-spinner-woman-craft-559751/
As Pegman strode through the forest near Galway, he chanced on an archetypal scene. An old woman sat spinning near a cottage overgrown with vines.
“Pegman, do not tell me that you were planning on walking by without saying hello,” the wizened crone admonished.
“Perish the thought, Yadira,” Pegman replied. “Shall we have tea?”
Pegman and Yadira sat outside the cottage in two old chairs, sipping their tea.
“Yadira, I must ask,” Pegman said. “Why can’t you content yourself to complete your quest in peace? Why are you terrorizing Gerry Clifford? What happened that day in the hills near Bar-Wul-Yann was certainly not in any way his fault.”
“I am merely a catalyst, Pegman,” Yadira retorted. “I am a witch. Witches grant wishes.”
“You are doing more than granting wishes. You are interfering.”
“You are one to talk, Impartial Observer who does not content himself with observing impartially,” Yadira retorted.
~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~
http://wewriwa.blogspot.com
https://whatpegmansaw.com/blog/
And now...The Notes!


Bar-Wul-Yann is a location in the 1910 story, Idle Days on the Yann, by Lord Dunsany. Dunsany was a major influence on the writings of H.P. Lovecraft.
Yadira Root is the namesake of the Yadira Chronicles. As Nyarlathotep's daughter, she is a force to be reckoned with. 
I have published the first chapter of Yadira's story free on LBRY. The entire story is available for 9 LBC. An LBC is a form of cryptocurrency. As of this writing, its value was a little over $0.04.

If you don't already have a LBRY account, get one here. LBRY is an open-source digital marketplace.

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Find out how to get more Pegman and other Naughty Netherworld Press goodness here.

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
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.
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Free First Chapter Friday: Carnal Invasion Book I: Coming to Earth: Hard Landing

Free Use Image from Pixabay Copyright Gerhard Jansonhttps://pixabay.com/photos/stargate-space-travel-spaceship-2718072/
When the Earth invasion fleet from Gamma Iridon was wiped out by irradiated space junk, there were only two survivors. 110X1 was the spawn of the vice-admiral and 1X0X1 was the spawn of the lead wing commander. The pair were notorious for being exceptionally lazy; when space junk devastated the fleet, they were napping in an escape pod, which detached from the doomed flagship and fell to Earth, landing in a sand trap at Big Putt Golf Haven at the stroke of midnight.
The pod dematerialized ninety seconds after the surprised occupants evacuated. No‐one witnessed the event except for countless mosquitoes, several hundred fireflies, approximately 108 mice, one screech owl, and a young groundskeeper named Gandolph Stafford, known to his gaming friends as Gandy.
“Holy chimera crap!” Gandy gasped.
The evacuees of the pod initially appeared to be amorphous, transparent blobs. Gandy attempted to stay hidden from them. He was just twenty‐five years old, and he had every intention of celebrating his twenty‐sixth birthday in 172 days. The invaders, however, had far more advanced senses than humans.
Gandy watched as sparks blipped in the forms of the two jelly‐like aliens. He realized they must be communicating with each other. Suddenly, the pair extended pseudopods from their gelatinous forms and reached into the brush, dragging the terrified groundskeeper to them.
“No, please, please, don’t eat me!” Gandy begged. “I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I swear!”
The aliens pressed their pseudopods to Gandy’s temples. He could suddenly understand their thoughts.
“Fear not, Terran. We have no intention of consuming you.”
“Oh, good!” Gandy replied. “I...I probably wouldn’t taste that good anyway. My diet isn’t exactly stellar. I’m a bit of a junk food junkie. I could get you something to eat, though. Would you like some ice cream? Oh. You probably don’t even know what ice cream is, do you?”
“We wish to learn of your planet. Teach us what you know.”
“Well, um, yeah, okay, sure. I just need to finish putting everything away. Is that okay?”
“Companion, I believe the Terran would feel more comfortable if we were to assume the appearance of one of his kind,” one of the aliens suggested. 
“Yes, I believe you are correct, Companion. One moment, Terran. We are retrieving data from your mind to create a form that you will find pleasing.”
~Cie from Naughty Netherworld Press~
Want more of this short, sweet, and spicy story?
Here's where you can get yours!
Buy it on Amazon for 99 cents.
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The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)


Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
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Sell your digital content on Lbry

Sell your digital content on Lbry: For me Hive is the most promising blockchain project out there but I would rank Lbry second. What is Lbry I've been on Lbry for a couple of weeks. Lbry is a blockchain based video platform where you can also host audio files, images, vectors, texts o...
This was a very informative post. I have LBRY, but I thought it was pretty much just a decentralized YouTube. I'm a writer (obviously, I guess) and the sort of person who has a very good face for radio. I have no interest in making videos. However, after reading your post, I've seen that LBRY could be useful for me too. 
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New Feature: Thirsty Thursday

Free use image copyright Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabayhttps://pixabay.com/vectors/owl-drunk-alcohol-animal-beer-158415/
Howdy solks, I mean folks! I had one of those brainstorm lightning strikes and came up with what could be a cool new idea. I'm calling it Thirsty Thursday. 
Thirsty Thursday will convene on a somewhat regularly irregular schedule at the official Naughty Netherworld Press blog. 
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
Sorry, but Thirsty Thursday isn't about drinking. Here's how it works. Every Thursday, give or take, I will shamelessly self-promote some of my work, and I invite you to do the same, providing a link and a brief description in the comments. The following week, I will share any previously shared links in the main post.
Let's spread independent art and writing far and wide! Erotica and NSFW art is welcome, but please indicate that the work is NSFW so that people who would prefer to avoid such can do so. Both fiction and nonfiction links are welcome. Fanart and fan fiction are welcome as well.
Full disclosure, this idea is not uniquely mine. The AO3 Comment of the Day Tumblr  (https://ao3commentoftheday.tumblr.com/) used to have a similar feature for sharing links to fan fiction works. Their ask box is currently closed and their feature was specific to fan fiction. I wanted to give mine a broader scope. I also miss the old Moonshine Grid at http://yeahwrite.me and thought that it would be good to have something like that where people could share their current work, published or not, without strict criteria. 
I am also stealing a page from the WEP folks (http://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com) to hopefully forestall potential problems with overly zealous critics. Please indicate next to your link whether you would like a full critique of your work (FCA), minor points (i.e. typos) only (MPA), or no critique, comments only (NCCO). 
Again, for the overly zealous critics, please keep your critiques CONSTRUCTIVE. The folks at WEP have a great page about writing a helpful critique as opposed to tearing a work down. Artists and authors tend to be a sensitive lot, and many of us use our creations in order to deal with past trauma or current stressors. Be kind.
As a wise soul named Kalpana once said to me, "comments and critique can be upsetting sometimes especially if they don't always come from the most balanced perspective and are carelessly worded." Sometimes people aren't in a good place to deal with other people's imbalanced perspectives and careless wording. Having a go at someone for not being in a good place to process criticism, whether constructive or otherwise, is unacceptable.
Here is the WEP critique page for your consideration.
https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/p/the-critique.html
That being said, I'd like for Thirsty Thursday to be more of a laid-back creative speakeasy than a critique circle. Come on and show us what you've got! You show us yours, and we'll show you ours! Cheers!
Here is my first share. If you like ornery poetry and hate pandemics and the spray-tanned parasite, hurry up and grab yourself a copy of Poetic Pandemic! It's free until May 24, 2020.


https://amzn.to/2zgJBmo

Your Ornery Old Aunt Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press
Note: I stole the line "howdy solks, I mean folks" from the late, great Shorty Medlocke (20 July 1912 – 6 August 1982).
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)


Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

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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!
Best of all, it's yours for the amazing price of free from May 20 through May 24, 2020.
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.
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http://fishypoets.blogspot.com/
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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.
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http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
http://publish0x.com/naughty-netherworld-press
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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)


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