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Showing posts with label April Fools. Show all posts
Showing posts with label April Fools. Show all posts

Monday, April 1, 2013

#AtoZ Challenge: A = Agent Harold Wolfe

After five completed manuscripts and years of writing, I'm thrilled to announce that I found a terrific agent who is howling to represent me and Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts! I'm referring to the wild and wonderful Agent Harold Wolfe of The Wolfe Literary Agency in New York City.

Mr. Wolfe has been prowling the book market for several years and, as a result, has sunk his teeth into his own unique style. In fact, he hates query letters, stating that he'd rather talk to someone than read a letter; so, Mr. Wolfe invites authors to call his office (212) 439-6500 and ask for Harry Wolfe.

What a rare species he is! He also welcomes visitors, so feel free to stop by his agency from 10:00-5:00 at the corner of: 

64th Street and Fifth Avenue
New York, New York 10021

For more information about Literary Agent Harold Wolfe, check out his website: http://tinyurl.com/ahfx8nu

Sunday, April 1, 2012

#AtoZ: Abducted by Aliens

Every now and then, there comes a time in a blogger's life when we feel compelled to share something private that we know we probably should keep to ourselves. Here's my story:

Back in the early 1970s, twelve year old me was abducted by aliens. I know you're probably thinking I'm nuts but if you read on, this just might make sense. I was upstairs brushing my teeth when these round red things tumbled out of my ear, grew to my size, and said, "You shall leave this earthy milieu and tailgate with us to our distant territory."

My heart pounded in my chest as I barely squeaked out the words, "Say what?"

They touched each other's digits, that protruded from their hips and said, "Approach with us."

I screamed.

Mom darted up the stairs and banged on the bathroom door, "Joyce! What's wrong?"

Before I could answer, these weird, fat aliens whisked me away in a storm of dull light circulating around me and giving off a scent like strawberries dipped in bleach.  My woozy head turned like Linda Blair's from the Exorcist, yet my vocal cords locked in place.

I landed in their space ship. I think. It didn't hover in the sky nor ground itself on Earth. I shook on a platform in some cave where red water splashed then echoed off its walls.

I've been afraid to speak of this experience because it's kinda embarrassing, especially when I peed my pants in front of the aliens. They made some high-pitched noise that didn't sound like laughing, but maybe it was. Who knows with space creatures? Then they strapped me to a gurney and touched me with their side digits. The moisture from my wet underwear instantly dried along with the tears in my eyes, saliva in my mouth and anything else containing bodily fluid. My fingers looked like prunes and I figured I'd die from dehydration. Next, a being bent down and whispered in my ear, "April Fools."



Monday, March 28, 2011

The Eighth Wonder of the World

 
As I drove down Poplar Avenue, I noticed red and green lights in the Exxon window which wished me Happy Holidays and flashed a chubby Santa at passing traffic. Maybe "flashed" is the wrong word since St. Nick was fully clothed, thank God, but why was that goofy Christmas icon still waving at me?
 
Being that it's late March but not quite April Fools Day, I figured this wasn't a joke. So Santa still graced the window for one reason or maybe another. Here are some possibilities:
 
  •  Exxon wants to spread the Christmas spirit year round. 
     During the Christmas season, people tend to be more generous. Maybe if they leave the lights up, people will think it's still the season of giving and buy more gas, junk food, lottery tickets, or Cokes.

  • The Exxon employees forgot to change the message, don't care about decorations, or never noticed the Christmas message was still up.
      I called Exxon. Miss Gas Queen knew the message was up but as to the reason why, she said, "I have no idea, Baby." Maybe that means they don't care. But then again, she said all the stations have the lights up. So does this mean it's a national con to sell fuel? Yeah, that's it. Or maybe after the BP oil spill knocked down the competition, every day is Christmas at Exxon!

  • Those folks know how to change oil, give tune ups, and maybe even rebuild a motor but they haven't a clue how to work display lights.
       I guess it's possible, but highly unlikely. After all, how complicated could it be? Confuzzle it because maybe . . .      

  • Changing display lights is so frustrating that they decided to never do it again.
      Which brings me to my former neighbor Pat who spent so much time putting up her tree that she swore she'd never take it down again. Five years later it was like, yeah, our house is the one two doors down from the huge Christmas tree in the window.

 So folks, let's just call this the Eighth Wonder of the World!