“I hadn’t planned to pull his head off. I bent and searched for body parts under the desk.”

“I hadn’t planned to pull his head off. I bent and searched for body parts under the desk.” @Buttersleybakes https://medium.com/@CaroleMarples/i-hadnt-planned-to-pull-his-head-off-i-bent-and-searched-for-body-parts-under-the-desk-780b5a85381


His Ping-Pong

A young man loved ping pong

He also liked Mah Jong

But what was lewd

And oh so crude

He’d only wear a thong.


Call of Saul 

There was an old man called Saul

Who had a shrill sort of call

What’s he saying?

Now he’s praying

Oh, I think he’s trapped a ball




Two little limericks I wrote a while ago whilst going through an aspirational phase. Dwelling on the practicalities held me back.


I want to go live in a zoo

Have lunch with a tiger or two

As visitors pay

It’s all on display

So where would I go for a pooh?

20180513_09574817030648.jpgphoto by Paula Borowsska

Reach For The Sky

I want to go live in a tree

Be mistress of all that I see

I’d reach so high

And touch the sky

But where would I go for a pee?

20180513_094952490458974.jpgPhoto by Noah Silliman



Moon Girl

I want to go live on the moon

It really should happen quite soon

My life is a mess

With plenty of stress

I need to get going by noon


Dig Deep

I think I’ll go live in a hole

Dig down deep and act like a mole

I’ll keep myself neat

Pedicure my feet

But my bum’ll be black as coal



Great checklist.

The Newbie Author

I haven’t posted in a while. It’s been upward of what…three weeks? It’s egregious—yes, I am well-aware. I could start rambling off trivial reasons and pitiful excuses, but it really all boils down to one malefic factor.

I really didn’t feel like it.

There. I said it. I didn’t feel like writing a blog post, so I didn’t. There are a number of tumultuous things running around in both my personal and professional lives right now, and I just couldn’t muster the emotional energy to write about writing.

Bizarre, eh? That’s how you know there’s something really wrong.

However, I am not at liberty to tell you about the wrong thing, so you’re just going to have to give me the grace I’m trying to give myself. I’m knee-deep in the book of Ecclesiastes (among many others) right now, and the chorus of the third chapter still tolls in the…

View original post 893 more words

Where’s My Teeth?

These two limericks are not based on anyone I know.  #justsaying


Mike’s a strange sort of man

Make of this what you can

He sleeps in one shoe

Will only wear blue

And keeps his teeth in a van



Gary’s a man who tells lies

And thinks it’s just about size

He boasts all about

What he calls his spout

So, it’s tiny I would surmise




Really helpful and witty as always.

The Newbie Author


The only reason I got on Twitter was to do #pitmad. I’ll be completely honest about that. I can’t tell if I love or hate the platform, and whether or not it hates or loves me remains to be seen.

But this is not a post about Twitter.

This is a post about pitching, and that just happens to tie into Twitter very nicely.

There are many ways to find an agent or a publisher, but pitching contests should never be discounted. One of my friends recently took a poll of her followers and found that 18% of the authors who replied hooked their agent via a pitching contest. That’s almost one out of five. That’s a lot of people.

Most of these contests are found on Twitter, and the paradigm has to be Brenda Drake’s #pitmad.[1] The rules are very simple:…

View original post 1,205 more words

An Easter Limerick

A quick little poem, off the cuff. I usually let them fester for days, but this had time restraints due to a competition…Life from the point of view of Mrs Easter Bunny.

His Wife Put It About

There was an Easter Bunny

Who’s tail was soft and runny

It saddened his wife

Their lack of sex life

But he just thought it funny


The wife she started a fling

He’d be out delivering

She met up with Chuck

A pleasant young buck

And she stoked his ding-a-ling


The Easter Bunny found out

Enraged, he issued a clout

His tail grew in size

To all their surprise

Too late, now. She’s up the spout

My Article in the Huffington Post!

The Death Project

I’m pretty thrilled to have this piece in Huffpost Personal published today! Yesterday, International Women’s Day, was the anniversary of my surgery, but the conversation I recount in the first paragraph of this article happened exactly a year ago today. How’s that for the Universe lining things up!

I’d like to thank my dear new friend Brenda Keesal for connecting me with Noah Michelson, the amazing editor at Huffpost who took this on. Do pay Brenda a visit at her blog burns the fire: her gorgeously told stories of life and death and especially loveare always an adventure of wondrous inspiration as she shines her brilliant, unique light into the odd corners of our beautiful world.

View original post