A Writer, Upon Retiring

Notice to: My fans, Facebook followers, reviewers, groupies, critics, whatevs

This puts you on official notice that whatever “literary debt” (real or imagined, in your brain or mine) I may have owed you as a poet or novelist, is now Paid in Full.

Specifically, I consider that I no longer owe you any-

-Subtle but clever metaphors
               -Imaginative parallelisms
                  -Iconic imagery
                     -Complex but likeable characters
                        -Snappy dialog
                           -Ponderous, dark mysteries
                              -Ironic and unexpected plot twists
                                 -Suspenseful setbacks
                                    -Surprising yet believable resolutions

You should no longer expect to hear about-

                                    -Youngsters drawn unwittingly to the dark side
                                             -Oldsters finding romance and adventure
                                          -Erotic pilgrims stumbling and bumbling through 
                                       sexual misadventures
                                       -Unflinching optimism while facing death
                                    -Silly yet satisfying sexiness
                                 -Dream sequences resonating with comfort and renewal

I feel no compunctions about making such a declaration. You will not starve or suffer verbal hunger pains. The world produces an endless line of word-grinders who will continue to fill your minds with both wheat and chaff. Take your pick, assuming you can tell the difference. They will feed your need for self-delusion. Your need to believe you are having real experiences and feeling genuine feelings.

NOTE: Regarding my latest book, if you haven’t already bought it, don’t.

My contract with my Irish publisher, Leabhair Tríú-ráta, called for a “final book.” My attorney searched diligently and found only one loophole. We agreed, however, that my dying would rather defeat my plans to retire in my mountain retreat.

Instead I rented a cheap motel room for two weeks and ground out a prequel to my prequel of “Sex Kittens from the Plains of Mars.” By the end of the first week I was so bored I stuck my head in the oven and turned it on. Turned out it was electric. Somewhere during the second week I blacked out. When I woke up I was staring at an email titled “Your submission has been received.” Go figure!

Oh, You already bought it? Ask for a refund. Let them know how special you are, I'm sure they'll cooperate!