I promise you’ll read this and smirk

As storytellers we make a promise to our readers that they will at the very least be entertained. If we don’t fulfill this promise, they will but down the book and find something else that fulfills that desire to be entertained.

What does that mean though?

To be entertained.

Of course for everyone it is a different and unique flavor pf desire. Some like a complete character growth arc one where the lonely neglected street urchin becomes king honored, refined, and desired. Through their journey we achieve a temporary relief from our own dissatisfaction with our place in this would.

If you don’t know what you are promising your genre reader than you won’t be successful. Period.

I write pulp western fantasy novellas.

My first promise is simple.

SEX

Premo Prose,

Ink stains that your eyes easily…oh so… effortlessly slide over crafting euphemistic yet euphoric images inside your minds,

I promise a sweet dark chocolate surprise somewhere hidden within my text.

But I am not writing Erotica. I’m writing Pulp I am literally writing easy to digest garbage. Staple of the pulp promise are racy plot driven stories that finish quickly and leave no marks on the reader after the experience is over.

My second promise is a bit more complicated

Western stories

mean more than the three decades of American expansionism that sprung the genre. In its basic elements a western is a story following an unchanging iconic hero often a stoic emotionally as they navigate a hostile world. At the bare minimum it must contain the stoic emotionally distant hero and a hostile world. No gun-play and cowboy boots needed.

My fantasy promise

is the fantastical. From the magic’s of the elder dragons of the northern kingdom to the rumors of dwarves. These are facts of reality for the denizens that populate my world and stories but they are not of the earth that we inhabit and when you read about how an illusion caster summons lighting from the clouds. You should be impressed and your own imagination should run with the questions of how, why, what if, and that would mean, etc.

Those are the basics of my promises to readers

This blog has made the promise that if you didn’t smirk you’ve left unsatisfied

and well i am sorry but this is a blog

and as such it’s only promise is that it is a web based log of it’s author’s thoughts. Which it is.

I didn’t promise Shakespearean turn of phrase.

I didn’t promise you atmospheric mastery like Lovecraft.

[Self thought: it would be rather ironic once my writing mastery has reached the point where I can craft works on par with Lovecraft or Hemingway but have to shelve those works because they do not satisfy the promise of pulp western fantasies.]

What have you promised your readers? Drop it in the comments. I’ll get to it if I can

By entering genre fiction.

Much love,

Hngyhngyhppo

Sonnet of oath, action, and guilt

What sense is duty?

Bound to action from another’s word:

By thoughts only freedom thinks so selfly,

My vessel beats and breaks to stir:

for I gave to you, my promise,

My arms act upon the world without thought,

To shatter enemies as frail now as sculpted ice.

My arms act, without doubt, head trapped or caught,

This motion’s end is not of my desire.

You called for my hand therefore,

Your soul should be not without consequence of trial.

Knowing this, why is it my own heart lifting sins commanded by corps.

Freely my oath was gave without pause or rapt.

Freely then trepidatiously now kept.

What SEN/se IS/ duTY

bounD/ to ACT/ion FRO/ anoTHER/’s WORD

thOUGHTS/ onLY/ freeDOM/ ThinKS/ selfLY

my VES/sel BEATS/ and BREAKS/ to STIR

gave TO/ you, MY/ promISE/

my ARMS/ ac-T/ upON/ the WORLD/ withOUT/ thOUGHT

to SHAT/ter WALL/s Ce/menTED/ of ICE

my ARMS/ ac-T/ ; he-AD/ traPPED/ or CAUGHT

this MO/tion’s END/ is NOT/ of MY/ deSIRE

You CAL/led FOR/ my HAND/ thereFORE

youR/ sOUL/ shOULD/ be NOT/ withOUT/ conSE/quaNCE/ of TRIAL

KnowING/ this, WHY/ is IT/ my OWN/ heART/ liFT/ing SINS/ comMAND/ed by CORPS

FreeLY/ my OATH/ was GAVE/ withOUT/ pauSE/ or RAPT

FreeLY/ then TREP/iDA/tiousLY/ ne-OW/ k-EPT

To shatter ENemIEs fORTtresses Once Strong as FRAGile as ice.

to SHAT/ter WALL/s Ce/menTED/ of ICE

Above is a sonnet I composed, The top is the final version the bottom is the work in progress.

As a mechanic not a poet. I can take any system apart and but it together anew.

Hope you enjoyed this,

With love,

HngyHngyHppo

Don’t forget to stroke my ego by sharing this with your boyfriend, leaving a like, and begin stalking me at a reasonable distance

It takes more than time…

Ten years ago I had grand dreams as to who and where I would be

A year ago I did not imagine I would be where I am now.

A year from now I cannot imagine where I will be.

To even attempt to do so is a waste of time.

Success takes more than time.

If all it took was time

Their would be

no

Wal-Mart

Greeters over fifty

That didn’t intentionally want

There careers. No no no if you need

More for your future then you have to do more

Do more than you ever thought was possible and learn

More than you ever dared to imagine. Learn more, Do more.

Wait no more…

..

This hourglass poem was crafted with love and care for you,

Hngynhngyhppo