Tag Archives: writing

#writing @EllevateNtwk #austin – another collection of personal musings whilst conducting research of the #davidfosterwallace archive at the Harry Ransom Center, UT, Austin, TX (Day Ten)

Today’s post is slightly different. I’m taking a break from research of the David Foster Wallace archive to co-host a ‘Book Writing Workshop’ with my sister, Liz. The workshop is aimed at people who want to write non-fiction books, whether it be personal or business related.

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My sister is excellent at this sort of thing and is hugely experienced, and I’m hoping that all who attended felt that they got what they came for, or even got something they hadn’t quite expected. Aside from the day’s perceived success, the thing that stood out for me was the connectedness of the attendees, who all happened to be women. Part of this connectedness seems to stem from their affiliation with the Ellevate Network, Austin (@EllevateNtwk #austin). From what I saw, and heard, I’d urge all professional women to check out this network as the skills and knowledge these women possessed was astounding; in fact, more than astounding, because they actually want to share their experiences for the betterment of others.

So, a huge thank you (and hats off) to the attendees: Darlene, Margie, Sherry, Anita, Leslie, Amy, and Ramona.

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Tomato Killer / Published by Dead Ink Books

Publishing the Underground

Dead Ink is a publisher of [anti] literature, publishing contemporary fiction, poetry, reviews and interviews online, digitally and in print.

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Do tomatoes feel pain? Can you empathise with the Tomato Killer? Do you wanna hear what happened to the eggplant…?

Find out by reading Matthew Simon Alexander’s Tomato Killer @ Dead Ink

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eBooks now available at Scribd

Visit Scribd and check out Matthew Simon Alexander’s eBooks.

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poetry snippet

City sweats uncontrollably

Writhes with guilt’s memory past

Memory that flares up unseen to its hosts –

Ghosts gently caress

Choking, choked.

 

Blistering haze forms mirage

Deceptive nature, masking what cannot be seen.

Green recedes, retreats, repeats –

Still lies the heart

Beneath the sheet… waits, rots.

 

Fire, flame, sun-coloured fragments

Wither, decay, ground to oblivion.

What purpose they serve.

Putrid soup feeds stomach

Guilt, gluttony

 

Silhouettes appear, unnatural in form

Unregimented lines, twisted, bent, eager to spread

Reaching up, out, yet –

Static. Constrained roots their existence.

Death as illusion, wicked trick.

 

Cold sweat follows

Envelopes all things

Penetrates staunch barrier –

Unleashing chill that sinks deep,

Reaches core of all things.

 

City forces shiver, begin its repentance

Offers hope, new beginnings.

Scents, sights, glorious for a moment –

Memories of past deeds appear.

Perpetual sin.


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