Unprogrammable Me

I began writing The Good Kill in July of 2017 and worked on it just about every day in some capacity until March 31 when I completed the manuscript at last and in a rush rushed right out to the UPS Store (I am not sponsored by or own stock in the UPS Store, it’s just that it’s like twenty minutes closer than Staples, of which I am not sponsored by or own stock in) to get three copies of the masterly work of art (as regarded solely by yours truly at this point) printed out in a rush and then rushed two of them out to my editors who are AKA my worldly-wise and well-read and spirited sister and her dashing husband – yeah, dashing as in he’s pretty studly, but mostly dashing as in he’s continually dashing off after my worldly-wise and well-read and spirited sister as she leads them on yet another global adventure — and then rushed right back home where I sat and admired and stroked lovingly for hours and hours the third copy of the manuscript.

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While we were watching the Academy Awards show…

ISIS was blowing up a nearly century-old library in Mosul, Iraq, destroying 8000 rare books and manuscripts in the process.

Now the chances were near a perfect zero that I would have visited this annihilated library or read even one of the burned manuscripts…

So why do I feel so upset by this, yet another barbaric, incomprehensible act of medieval madness inflicted upon the world by ISIS?

And now we hear they have abducted a group of Christians who are surely to be slaughtered…

And similarly evil and incomprehensible things are being done by other such medieval minded groups from Nigeria to Mexico…

Burnings, beheadings, bombings are happening so often now it seems I hardly notice anymore.

But something about destroying ancient texts and artifacts really, really moves me.

Something about losing a large chunk of rare history really hurts.

Well, at least I got to witness the embarrassingly historic moment of Neil Patrick Harris prancing around in his skivvies…


Speaking of Weird…

What do you all make of Harper Lee?

I mean, obviously she went to the same Passive-Aggressive Secret and Silent Public Relations school as JD “The Secluded” Salinger, whereas Salinger specialized more in the art of silently aggressive relations and she more in the silently passive sort.

I mean, come on… You write one of the bestest novels in the history of novels and then go virtually dark for sixty years and then all of a sudden you’re like, “Hey, lookie everyone what I just found here attached to the back of one of the bestest novel manuscripts in the history of novel manuscripts!”

Yeah, I know… Weird.

And not to mention all the weird that surrounds her bestest first novel To Kill a Mockingbird. Some even speculate that she didn’t even write it – or at least most of it; that her bestest buddy Truman Capote, in an effort to win her lifelong affection – because we all know the great TC was all about being liked – wrote it for her.

Anyway… Who knows.

Sure wish I did.

But in the absence of knowledge, let’s make up some weird.

For today’s WEIRD WEDNESDAY prompt…

Write something weird, be it a poem, limerick, essay, flash fiction (750ish words or less), stream of consciousness, whatever, about a secret meeting between Harper Lee, Truman Capote, and JD Salinger for the purpose that is yours to determine.

And by the way, by weird I do not mean perverse regardless how well this opportunity of a prompt may provide for it. Just saying…

This may explain things a bit about the prompts.
This provides some Harper Lee context.
Submissions close at 7pmish.
Selection announced sometime thereafter.
No comments other than submissions for the prompts please. All comments welcome for the selection when published, however.
Please “Like” those submissions you like.

It should be noted that, as stated on the Disclaimer page and the Relating to Humans guidelines, a “Like” by me does not necessarily mean I like or endorse a submitted work. My “Like” is foremost intended as a means of acknowledging a submission; though chances are pretty good I may like it, as well.