|Photo: Saliha Sevim, Pexels|
I'm sharing this one because, honestly, who among us (well, among those of us who write) hasn't had a wake for a novel like this? The last three lines made me laugh out loud (as did, well, most of the poem.) It's a little bit of genius and a lot of real-life writerly angst.
Her First Novel
by James Tate
When Connie finished her novel she came
over to my place to celebrate. I mixed up a
shaker full of Manhattans and we sat out on the
porch. "Here's to… What's the title?" I
asked. "Well, that's a problem. The title's
kind of awful. It's called THE KING OF SLOPS."
"Gosh," I said, "that's unfortunate. I think
you can probably do better than that." We took
a drink and reflected. "It's about a hospital
orderly." "Ouch," I said. "It doesn't sound
very promising, does it?" "Is there a love
angle?" I asked hopefully. "No," she replied,
"everybody hates him. He's a creep." "Then
(Read the rest here.)
The round-up this week is being hosted by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at The Poem Farm.