Taken in the Outer Banks, a narrow stretch of land – sometimes less than 50 yards wide – that reaches out into the Atlantic Ocean for more than 100 miles, including Corolla Bay, in North Carolina.
Author: gorgeousgael
AMAZON/KINDLE BEST SELLER
Nothing much has changed since I wrote this!
AMAZON/KINDLE BEST SELLER
I see that I am at number 1,205,646
In the Amazon/Kindle best-seller list
Again
Last week I was at number 650,249
And the previous week 233,184
Or was that the week before?
I don’t think I have got into the top 100
Yet
I like to see the wild fluctuations in the list
Thousands of points variation
Mean lots of sales, innit?
Though I must confess
It puzzles me a little bit
Because according to Amazon’s
Own – very reliable – sales chart
I sold no books at all last week
And only one all last month
So Amazon/Kindle
Here’s my conclusion
You must be one cupid stunt
THE HEMINGWAY CONNECTION
Apparently this is the Hemingway-themed layout. Can’t see the connection myself, unless the barn is meant to represent a writer’s garret. Not that Papa ever wrote in a garret as far as I know. He always wrote standing up, on a tall,sloped desk, everything handwritten before being typed up. He was usually an early morning writer, and the location invariably was his bedroom, and he was usually finished by lunch-time. Certainly this was his routine during the years he spent at his villa, Finca Vigia,in Havana Cuba. Years of heavy drinking and high living caused him all sorts of health problems and he blew his brains out early one morning at his residence in Ketcham Idaho in the summer of 1961. Maybe it’s the best way to end it all; not the long slide to oblivion but the quick end from the speeding bullet.
Advice from Papa; Write drunk, edit sober.
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FRACKING HELL
FRACKING HELL
Frack them all
Except a few
And if they don’t like it
Frack them too.
Omagh’s ‘Shawshank Husband’ Dug Tunnel From Bedroom To Pub Over 15 Years
Omagh's 'Shawshank Husband' Dug Tunnel From Bedroom To Pub Over 15 Years.
ITS A CRAZY WORLD!
Fetching the water with Neddy
Fetching the water with Neddy
Where I come from is who I am:
Tangled blackberry bushes
Smoke rising from a solitary chimney
The pine grove in the distance
And Father shouting
“More water in that barrel”
As we bucketed it from our well
To our asses cart,
Creel-less for once.
Other days Neddy would be laden down
With wood from the nearby thicket
Ash trees, young Sally’s,stumps of furze bushes.
Sometimes he hauled sand and gravel
From the quarry at Carroll’s Cross,
Part of Father’s master plan
To build us an outside toilet.
This would mean more water from the well
To feed the tank on its roof,
Unless it rained a lot
Which of course it often did
In our neck of the woods.
Fahrenheit 451
Have just re-read Ray Bradbury’s great science fiction book Fahrenheit 451 and it is without doubt the greatest book of its kind. Although now more than 60 years old it hasn’t dated one day and feels as fresh now as it did when first published. In fact I wouldn’t describe it as science fiction any more but science fact. Many of its predictions are now fact.
451
Ah Montag,Montag, where are you now?
Steeped in your kerosine world
You burnt the books
The houses and even the people.
Then fire seared your brain
And cleansed your senses
Books were made to be read not torched.
So you ran to the river
The Mechanical Hound snapping at your heels.
The sun burns every day
It burns time
The firemen burn the books
They burn them every day
Ah Montag, Montag, time burns everything away.
Corolla Bay update
Ence al
Spent the last week in Corolla Bay, on the tip of N Carolina. It is full of lighthouses,Water Towers,Alligators and the roaring Atlantic. No pics yet but will upload some when we get back home. Even went beach fishing yesterday morning and caught something stripey – I believe it was called a Drum. Anyway, I put it back after unhooking it. tHe whole area is called the Outer Banks, a narrow strip of land stretching out into the ATlantic for many,many miles,and less than 50 yards wide in places. A death trap for sailors in olden days apparently,hence all the lighthouses.
Very swampy in places,hence the alligators. Didn’t See any – fortunately!
NEVER THROW STONES AT YOUR MOTHER
Never throw stones at your mother
You’ll be sorry when she’s dead
Never throw stones at your mother
Throw bricks at your father instead
Written by Brendan Behan.
Corolla Bay
On holidays in Corolla Bay N Carolina until early Oct. Postings back to normal then!
My Writing Life 