Filed under: Story
Once upon a time, in a far away suburb, lived a little woman with a big attitude. She spent her time reading voraciously most books that came her way, stooping to reading the backs of soup cans and spray cleaners in moments of desperation.
In school, she read all books assigned, searched dutifully for hidden meanings and allegories. She wrote essays and papers and reviews. But is wasn’t enough. Something was missing.
“All my library for a nasty book!” she was heard to exclaim as the neighbors reached for the phone and hit the speed dial that would connect them with the police.
It was OK. The little woman and the police were friends from way back.
But still she was not content.
The little woman didn’t care if a book had vampires or guns or tea pots or dragons. She just wanted to read more and more and more good books. And she wanted them to make her shiver.
She hadn’t shivered in a long time.
“Why don’t I make my own book of shivery, nasty stories?” she thought one day in a rare moment of clarity.
And that is what she set about doing.
Below, you will see her ongoing struggle on behalf of all people who like books that leave a mark when the reader is done with them.
She will tell of writers from near and far who write tales and tomes of evil men and cranky women, of innocent people fate throws into the wind and of cities and towns just like yours that harbor shadow people that smile as their gleaming knives swing down in the sun.
One day in November of 2007, there will be that shivery, nasty book and it will be called Expletive Deleted.
