As I wait for the #PitchWars submission window, and try with desperation to narrow down my list of potential MG mentors, I'm sharing a poem a day (or so - I'm a busy guy!) about my MG Fantasy novel, Danger Tastes Dreadful, which stars two 11yo trolls, Bernie & Tish. I wrote this fourth poem today. It brings up the stakes for Bernie, basically rescue his parents before they become the main entree at a giant feast. (There is no poetry at all in my MS, more's the pity.) The drawing below is one of the giants, with Bernie beside him for perspective (and noshing on?!?) If you are curious, read my bio.
When giants come a'stomping, knocking down trees
Everybody scatters and hides.
What could they be there for, visiting? Please!
They want what is tasty inside.
A feast's in the planning, but they need hors d'oeuvres
Watch out if you're juicy and plump.
A horse might go well with some piglet preserves
Or humans who sport a large rump.
But most prized of all for the gluttonous feast
The entree for everyone's bowls
(though truly to me don't sound good in the least)
The toughest, the chewiest trolls.
Under bridges, in caves, behind waterfalls
the giants will search every inch
Till they find all the trolls, then back to their halls
And serve them with salt (just a pinch).
As I wait for the #PitchWars mentor blog hop, I'm sharing a poem a day about my MG Fantasy novel, Danger Tastes Dreadful, which stars two 11yo trolls, Bernie & Tish. I wrote the third poem this morning. It describes Tish, who likes nothing more than causing a bit of trouble. (There is no poetry at all in my MS, more's the pity.) If you are curious, read my bio.
Trouble that Starts with T and Stands for Tish
In the world, there are many injustices
Those accused without basis at all
But with trolls, it's accepted as just how it is
When there's trouble, Tish must take the fall.
She's sly and she's tricky. Mischievous
is probably the very best spin
you can put on her exploits, which leave us
blaming her, but hiding a grin.
If your eel stew is suddenly motionless
If your cave entrance oddly's not there
If your ear contains earthworms in distress
It was Tish on a whim or a dare.
As I wait for the #PitchWars mentor blog hop, I'm sharing a poem a day about my MG Fantasy novel, Danger Tastes Dreadful, which stars two 11yo trolls, Bernie & Tish. I wrote the second poem this morning (see below). It shows a way that my trolls are special.
Trolls Smell
You might think it's an insult
to say that all trolls smell,
But if you said it to one,
he'd nod and say "quite well".
Aside from all the odors
wafting from his feet,
aside from stinky underarms
and ears that simply reek,
All trolls smell things that we don't,
smells which make no sense
Like trouble (spicy cinnamon)
or tangy (like suspense)
They taste things that we can't at all
they have a special knack
The bitter taste of danger
right before the crack.
So, when I say a troll smells
Ignore his stinky butt
Admire instead his magic
and how he smells whats what.
As I wait for the #PitchWars mentor blog hop, I thought perhaps I could share a few poems about my MG Fantasy novel, which stars two 11yo trolls, Bernie & Tish. The first poem is included below, and is the poem which first started me thinking about trolls as heroes. I wrote this back in 2009. Other poems will be new, meaning I have no idea what I will write but like to challenge myself.
Three Billy Goats Yum!
I lie in wait beneath the bridge
and lick my lips, my eyes ablaze.
There’s nothing fearsome trolls like more
than Billy Goat with Hollandaise.
As shadows lengthen, prospects dim.
I lie in wait beneath the bridge,
dismayed that I may have to eat
some week-old toad left in my fridge.
With aching tummy left to mourn
the tasty treats that might have been,
I lie in wait beneath the bridge.
Trolls should be fat, but I’m so thin.
But wait, is that a tapping hoof?
Three goats traipse down from yonder ridge.
My dinner plans at last prepared,
I lie in wait beneath the bridge.
I've never been much of a joiner, even in school, so when I read (today) about Pimp My Bio for #PitchWars mentees, I hesitated.
But I have learned a few things since school... as an adult, as an author, as a socially awkward middle aged man in a virtual room full of digital natives wearing their neon warpaint in the form of GIFs and selfies.
I have learned that sometimes you have to dance if you want to attend the party.
So, here I am.
Oh yes, you don't know me. My name is Ben, I'm 53 and own a small software company. My software hides in the background, much like me, so you won't have noticed it, even if you use it.
I write stories and poems and occasionally draw things. I have three kids, but they've all flown the nest, so I live quietly with my wife and two cats (okay, they aren't quiet - they knock things over a lot). I write middle grade fantasy, among other things. (I also write poetry - Orson Scott Card once wrote and said he loved my poems. How cool is that?)
My Pitch Wars middle grade novel has trolls (nice ones) and giants (not so nice, but perhaps just misunderstood) and dragons (nasty pieces of work). It also has friendship and adventure and... well, you'll just have to read it. Suffice it to say, the main characters are eleven-year-old Bernie and Tish. He's always hungry but more timid than a troll should be. She's obsessed with rocks and loves trouble, even when it leaves her smelling strongly of cinnamon.
Below is a drawing I made of Tish's home, though it is a bit hard to see through the water.
Thanks you to Lana Pattinson for hosting the mentee bio blogs. See other links on her website. And thank you for stopping by. Mind the penguin on your way out.
