Jason Z. Christie's Blog, page 33
June 22, 2012
Breakfast
Poems are rarely served up regularly
Like Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage
Removed from a mold by automated design
Instead, they should be assembled
Like omelettes
Using whatever ingredients are close at hand
The truth is
If men knew how poems and sausages were created
They'd have no taste for either
12-29-11Buy my books! http://www.amazon.com/Jason-Christie/...
Like Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage
Removed from a mold by automated design
Instead, they should be assembled
Like omelettes
Using whatever ingredients are close at hand
The truth is
If men knew how poems and sausages were created
They'd have no taste for either
12-29-11Buy my books! http://www.amazon.com/Jason-Christie/...
June 21, 2012
Waterfall
I wish
I could
Write you poetry
That meandered
and flowed
Down
the
page
Never rhyming
Or making any sense
Yet still beautiful
Like a waterfall
I could
Write you poetry
That meandered
and flowed
Down
the
page
Never rhyming
Or making any sense
Yet still beautiful
Like a waterfall
Your New Role Model: Pandora Poikilos
Are you an aspiring author? Want to succeed in the writer game?
No? I don't know what to say to that.
Yes? Meet your new role model, Pandora Poikilos. She is talented, sweet, helpful, and sells tons of books. I submit to you that she is your model for achieving your aspirations.
Observe her tasteful homepage: http://pandorapoikilos.com/
Her very active blog: http://peacefrompieces.blogspot.com/
Her very upbeat Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pandorapoikilos (~12,000 likes)
Her very active Twitter account: https://twitter.com/#!/pandorapoikilos (~135,000 followers)
She's even somewhat active on Google+: https://plus.google.com/103056029234662911674/posts
Fourteen books, fiction and non, on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Pandora-Poikilos/e/B004S8GWMA
But it's not the fact that she's on top of the social media that makes her a success. Pandora is constantly arranging blog tours, giveaways and promotional packages that help out tons of other authors, as well.
My point is if you want to sell books and live an interesting life, you would do well to emulate her actions and attitude. Cheers, Dora. You're an inspiration to us all.
No? I don't know what to say to that.
Yes? Meet your new role model, Pandora Poikilos. She is talented, sweet, helpful, and sells tons of books. I submit to you that she is your model for achieving your aspirations.
Observe her tasteful homepage: http://pandorapoikilos.com/
Her very active blog: http://peacefrompieces.blogspot.com/
Her very upbeat Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pandorapoikilos (~12,000 likes)
Her very active Twitter account: https://twitter.com/#!/pandorapoikilos (~135,000 followers)
She's even somewhat active on Google+: https://plus.google.com/103056029234662911674/posts
Fourteen books, fiction and non, on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Pandora-Poikilos/e/B004S8GWMA
But it's not the fact that she's on top of the social media that makes her a success. Pandora is constantly arranging blog tours, giveaways and promotional packages that help out tons of other authors, as well.
My point is if you want to sell books and live an interesting life, you would do well to emulate her actions and attitude. Cheers, Dora. You're an inspiration to us all.
June 11, 2012
Preview My New Fantasy Title
Two years ago, my girlfriend moved in with me. Well, she had already moved in with me, but her books moved in with us sometime after that.
I had already written my first book for her, or was in the process of finishing it, as well as finishing Pageburner and Hurricane Regina at her behest. They became her books as well. Actually, I had written Pageburner about her and wasn't even aware of it at the time.
This is how sweet she is. She asked me to write a book for her, and I did. Radar Love stands as one of the all-time great romance novels of all time. I don't like to brag. Anyway, when she unpacked her books, they were all fantasy titles. She asked me to write a book for her, but never let me know what her favorite sort of book was. Silly me, I never asked.
This is an effort to make up for that. It is "Discworld" to Perfect Me's "Hitchhiker's Guide". I think I do better at imitating Douglas Adams than Terry Pratchett, personally.
The character Moog, I realized later, was lifted from Tom Robbins' "Jitterbug Perfume". In that story, the necromancer is named Noog. Close enough. Let's call it an homage instead of outright theft. It's only fair, as Queen Diamond is also a thinly-disguised Queen Tilly from "Still Life With Woodpecker"...
At any rate, it's about two-thirds completed or so, and I'm about to finish up and publish the sequel to Perfect Me, so this will be my next finished novel after that. It was originally called Princess Academy, until I learned there was already a book by that title...
###
"The perfect king and his wife, the perfect queen, lived in their perfect castle with their twelve perfect children..."
"Wait a minute," the queen said. "If I'm commissioning a story from you, I have to be the voice of dissent already. None of us meet the impossible standard of 'perfect'."
"Look, I'm I'm a necromancer and an alchemist. If you want me to be your court scrivner as well, you're simply going to have to grant me some concessions and leeway."
"Blah, blah, blah," the queen said. "You use a lot of big, anachronistic words."
"I should point out that you just used the word 'anachronistic'."
"What?"
"Look, nice lady. I have a story to write, if you don't mind."
"Fine, fine," she said. "Although I feel compelled to point out that you haven't even produced silver, much less gold."
"Right. And now you want me to write full time, as well. Great. No pressure."
"Well, hows about you combine the two acts? Turn the writing into gold."
"Well, that's so crazy it just might work. It's at least as plausible as turning lead into gold."
"Maybe if you wrote in pencil?"
"That's graphite, actually."
"No one likes a smart-ass, dear."
"It beats the alternative. Usually"
The necromancer, Moog being his name, pulled out his pocketwatch thingie, which always confounded the queen.
"Why are you always fiddling with that thing?"
"Passes the time. But I have neither bars nor minutes. And my charger ran away."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing. It's a necromancer thing. You wouldn't understand."
"Okay. I'm going take a nappy-nap. Wake me if you produce gold in the interim."
"I'll get right on that," he said. Moog was a bit sarcastic and caustic.
Instead, he went to his bungalow and whipped up a batch of ground unicorn horn, which he loved and snorted regularly. It certainly enhanced the writing, at times.
8-31-11
I had already written my first book for her, or was in the process of finishing it, as well as finishing Pageburner and Hurricane Regina at her behest. They became her books as well. Actually, I had written Pageburner about her and wasn't even aware of it at the time.
This is how sweet she is. She asked me to write a book for her, and I did. Radar Love stands as one of the all-time great romance novels of all time. I don't like to brag. Anyway, when she unpacked her books, they were all fantasy titles. She asked me to write a book for her, but never let me know what her favorite sort of book was. Silly me, I never asked.
This is an effort to make up for that. It is "Discworld" to Perfect Me's "Hitchhiker's Guide". I think I do better at imitating Douglas Adams than Terry Pratchett, personally.
The character Moog, I realized later, was lifted from Tom Robbins' "Jitterbug Perfume". In that story, the necromancer is named Noog. Close enough. Let's call it an homage instead of outright theft. It's only fair, as Queen Diamond is also a thinly-disguised Queen Tilly from "Still Life With Woodpecker"...
At any rate, it's about two-thirds completed or so, and I'm about to finish up and publish the sequel to Perfect Me, so this will be my next finished novel after that. It was originally called Princess Academy, until I learned there was already a book by that title...
###
"The perfect king and his wife, the perfect queen, lived in their perfect castle with their twelve perfect children..."
"Wait a minute," the queen said. "If I'm commissioning a story from you, I have to be the voice of dissent already. None of us meet the impossible standard of 'perfect'."
"Look, I'm I'm a necromancer and an alchemist. If you want me to be your court scrivner as well, you're simply going to have to grant me some concessions and leeway."
"Blah, blah, blah," the queen said. "You use a lot of big, anachronistic words."
"I should point out that you just used the word 'anachronistic'."
"What?"
"Look, nice lady. I have a story to write, if you don't mind."
"Fine, fine," she said. "Although I feel compelled to point out that you haven't even produced silver, much less gold."
"Right. And now you want me to write full time, as well. Great. No pressure."
"Well, hows about you combine the two acts? Turn the writing into gold."
"Well, that's so crazy it just might work. It's at least as plausible as turning lead into gold."
"Maybe if you wrote in pencil?"
"That's graphite, actually."
"No one likes a smart-ass, dear."
"It beats the alternative. Usually"
The necromancer, Moog being his name, pulled out his pocketwatch thingie, which always confounded the queen.
"Why are you always fiddling with that thing?"
"Passes the time. But I have neither bars nor minutes. And my charger ran away."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing. It's a necromancer thing. You wouldn't understand."
"Okay. I'm going take a nappy-nap. Wake me if you produce gold in the interim."
"I'll get right on that," he said. Moog was a bit sarcastic and caustic.
Instead, he went to his bungalow and whipped up a batch of ground unicorn horn, which he loved and snorted regularly. It certainly enhanced the writing, at times.
8-31-11
June 10, 2012
Shattered
He opened his eyes, and he was alone. What just happened, he wondered, and how long was I down for this time?
He remembered the car wrecks. The shootings. The stabbings. Burning alive. The drowning. His own rape. Do unto others, he thought, questioningly.
So far, he'd hurt everyone he'd ever loved. Did he love?
Ultimately, yes. If he loved nothing else, he loved her. They had a mission, no matter how vague and ill-defined it seemed, at times. A destiny. He only hoped it was a shared destiny.
How ironic, to come back from the dead. Again. Forever. And find yourself a lonely ghost haunting an empty world.
It couldn't be, he reasoned. She was promised to him by the man himself. God the liar? It did not compute.
So while he was convinced, how could he convince her?
Her beliefs got in the way of her faith. Self-doubt translated into real doubt. Why don't you share your knowledge with others, she had asked him in another life.
Because even she didn't believe him. How could anyone else?
It was lonely at the top and bottom.
He told her there was no such thing as hell and the devil. She was his proof. He was her counter-proof.
If he was the chosen one, or at the very least one of the chosen ones, why would existence continue to thwart them both?
Why did he keep waking up?
Because he loved her. And only her. And she loved him.
He only hoped that was enough. He was out of ideas.
10-28-2011
He remembered the car wrecks. The shootings. The stabbings. Burning alive. The drowning. His own rape. Do unto others, he thought, questioningly.
So far, he'd hurt everyone he'd ever loved. Did he love?
Ultimately, yes. If he loved nothing else, he loved her. They had a mission, no matter how vague and ill-defined it seemed, at times. A destiny. He only hoped it was a shared destiny.
How ironic, to come back from the dead. Again. Forever. And find yourself a lonely ghost haunting an empty world.
It couldn't be, he reasoned. She was promised to him by the man himself. God the liar? It did not compute.
So while he was convinced, how could he convince her?
Her beliefs got in the way of her faith. Self-doubt translated into real doubt. Why don't you share your knowledge with others, she had asked him in another life.
Because even she didn't believe him. How could anyone else?
It was lonely at the top and bottom.
He told her there was no such thing as hell and the devil. She was his proof. He was her counter-proof.
If he was the chosen one, or at the very least one of the chosen ones, why would existence continue to thwart them both?
Why did he keep waking up?
Because he loved her. And only her. And she loved him.
He only hoped that was enough. He was out of ideas.
10-28-2011
Guest Poet: Stephen King
Lighting the rehab pic on fire?
That was me, I think
But I lack total recall
That was Philip K. Dick
Take it up with him
That was me, I think
But I lack total recall
That was Philip K. Dick
Take it up with him
Austin City Limits
I would gladly crawl
On my knees
Over burning shards of broken glass
All the way to Austin
Just to wipe a single tear from your eye
Time and distance
Are meaningless
Except
When we are apart
On my knees
Over burning shards of broken glass
All the way to Austin
Just to wipe a single tear from your eye
Time and distance
Are meaningless
Except
When we are apart
Per Diem
Every day is Christmas
And our birthdays, too
The date never matters
As long as it's with you
Stuck together like glue
Like DNA, intertwined
My love, you are a track star
Running through my mind
And our birthdays, too
The date never matters
As long as it's with you
Stuck together like glue
Like DNA, intertwined
My love, you are a track star
Running through my mind
May 31, 2012
My First Volume of Poetry
Wow. Seven published books, now. This one is definitely a labor of love. Anyone who writes poetry for money is either a rapper or works for Hallmark. The payoff for a poem is the pleasure you can give someone else with it.
I think I have achieved that. These all rhyme, are all sentimental, and are everything a 'serious' volume of poetry shouldn't be. One has already been used in a wedding ceremony in Canada. Plus I was told it was the best anniversary present ever...if I never sell a single copy, I'll be happy with that.
Poetry: A Love Story - $.99 / Free All Weekend
http://www.amazon.com/Poetry-A-Love-Story-ebook/dp/B0087JE8G8/
But since I can't publish excerpts due to Amazon's short-sighted KDP policy, here's one I forgot to include:
It was the night before Christmas
And all through the palace
Not a creature was stirring
But a young princess named Alyss
She tossed and she turned
In her panties and gown
She turned the heat up
She turned the heat down
But she couldn't relax
On a night such as this
When surely her name
Was on Santa's list
She was the naughtiest princess
In a four-kingdom span
Too old for her dolls
Too young for a man
Her stockings were hung
By the chimney with care
But still she had on
Her laciest pair
No visions of sugar plums
As she lay in her bed
For she had other thoughts
Filling her head
Would he bring presents
Or would he bring coal?
Could he be coming to spank her
Or lecture and scold?
She was giddy with exhaustion
And her toes they did tingle
As she awaited the arrival
Of the one they call Kringle
At last she heard footfalls
At the top of the stairs
She knew what was coming
But still she was scared
He crept in her room
Barely making a sound
And slowly proceeded
To pull her sheets down
"Why Santa, what gives?"
She said, sitting up.
"Those aren't the stockings
I want you to stuff..."
Said Santa, "I'm sorry, Alyss my dear
But Santa's had too much holiday cheer
Now since you're up
From your cold winter lap
Climb out of your bed
And into my lap..."
Her prayers had been answered
She was nothing but good
She considered his offer
And decided she would
The princess so happy
She beamed with delight
And squeezed Santa's neck
With all of her might
He kissed her cheek
And then pulled her tight
Merry Christmas to all
And to all, a good knight
I think I have achieved that. These all rhyme, are all sentimental, and are everything a 'serious' volume of poetry shouldn't be. One has already been used in a wedding ceremony in Canada. Plus I was told it was the best anniversary present ever...if I never sell a single copy, I'll be happy with that.
Poetry: A Love Story - $.99 / Free All Weekend
http://www.amazon.com/Poetry-A-Love-Story-ebook/dp/B0087JE8G8/
But since I can't publish excerpts due to Amazon's short-sighted KDP policy, here's one I forgot to include:
It was the night before Christmas
And all through the palace
Not a creature was stirring
But a young princess named Alyss
She tossed and she turned
In her panties and gown
She turned the heat up
She turned the heat down
But she couldn't relax
On a night such as this
When surely her name
Was on Santa's list
She was the naughtiest princess
In a four-kingdom span
Too old for her dolls
Too young for a man
Her stockings were hung
By the chimney with care
But still she had on
Her laciest pair
No visions of sugar plums
As she lay in her bed
For she had other thoughts
Filling her head
Would he bring presents
Or would he bring coal?
Could he be coming to spank her
Or lecture and scold?
She was giddy with exhaustion
And her toes they did tingle
As she awaited the arrival
Of the one they call Kringle
At last she heard footfalls
At the top of the stairs
She knew what was coming
But still she was scared
He crept in her room
Barely making a sound
And slowly proceeded
To pull her sheets down
"Why Santa, what gives?"
She said, sitting up.
"Those aren't the stockings
I want you to stuff..."
Said Santa, "I'm sorry, Alyss my dear
But Santa's had too much holiday cheer
Now since you're up
From your cold winter lap
Climb out of your bed
And into my lap..."
Her prayers had been answered
She was nothing but good
She considered his offer
And decided she would
The princess so happy
She beamed with delight
And squeezed Santa's neck
With all of her might
He kissed her cheek
And then pulled her tight
Merry Christmas to all
And to all, a good knight
May 29, 2012
New Interview/Guest Post
Elizabeth Baxter, of Small Blonde Hippy fame, recently lavished all sorts of attention on me. A guest post about Usenet and an interview.
http://elizabethbaxter.blogspot.com/2012/05/guest-post-jason-christie-on-lessons-of.html
http://elizabethbaxter.blogspot.com/2012/05/spotlight-sunday-jason-christie.html
Plus she has a short story collection that is really well-written: http://www.amazon.com/Circle-Spinner-Other-Tales-ebook/dp/B007YQ1SY0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1338191323&sr=8-1
Obligatory link to my books:
Perfect Me, Radar Love, Zombie Killa, Hurricane Regina, Radar Love, Six Stories Short & Sweet
In somewhat related news, I've nearly finished a new novel, another in the Perfect Me universe with Prail, High-C, Project X, President Gorlax, Janique from Radar Love and others. I haven't typed up any more of Penultimate Hustle, sorry...
http://elizabethbaxter.blogspot.com/2012/05/guest-post-jason-christie-on-lessons-of.html
http://elizabethbaxter.blogspot.com/2012/05/spotlight-sunday-jason-christie.html
Plus she has a short story collection that is really well-written: http://www.amazon.com/Circle-Spinner-Other-Tales-ebook/dp/B007YQ1SY0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1338191323&sr=8-1
Obligatory link to my books:
Perfect Me, Radar Love, Zombie Killa, Hurricane Regina, Radar Love, Six Stories Short & Sweet
In somewhat related news, I've nearly finished a new novel, another in the Perfect Me universe with Prail, High-C, Project X, President Gorlax, Janique from Radar Love and others. I haven't typed up any more of Penultimate Hustle, sorry...
