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MFA in Writing at Vermont College

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


I think it's about time we talk Pirates!

Yes, Pirates.  A blog is not complete until you discuss pirates.

This past weekend my wife and I went to see the Real Pirates exhibit at the Milwaukee Public Museum.  My wife would not allow me to dress in my seaworthy garb and floppy hat in order to get in for half price so I had to fork out full admission.  But she could not stop me from saying "Aye Matey!" to everyone at the exhibit. 

Seriously, what is better than a good pirate story?

High Sea adventure!

Buried Treasure!

Heroines in distress!


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Okay, okay… talking like a pirate is better!

Blimey! You landlubbing Sea Dog.  You’ll be sleeping with the fishes in Davey Jones’ Locker if ya don’t agree.

 
What did I find the most interesting part of the exhibit you ask?

Well, I did laugh hysterically every time I saw the word Poop Deck and booty!  But I must admit that these certain hilarities were not the highlight of the day.  That honor goes to walking the plank.
 

Can you imagine?  There you are standing on the edge of a long board dangling above the ocean - miles from the nearest landfall.  Behind you stands a pack of snarling pirates with sharpened cutlasses ready to carve you to pieces.  In front of you nothing but rough water, circling fins and near certain death.

 
Do you turn back and take your chances against an army of angry pirates out for blood… or do you jump in the ocean and face a school of hungry sharks.

On second thought I can relate quite well to this dilemma. 

In fact, for the past several weeks you could say I have been standing on the edge of my own plank. Behind me are the snarling faces of doubt.  Evil, angry faces telling me to come back to the ship so they can tear me to shreds.  Who do you think you are trying to send out a manuscript?  You're no writer!  You're just a bilge-sucking swab!

Ahead of me circles the fins of the publishing world.  Shiver me timbers!  I can’t even see land.  I’m just supposed to jump in the frothy waves hoping that they drag me to shore.  I’m certain shark bait here.  Dead men tell no tales!

 
 
Oh, to be sitting on the Poop Deck with a nice booty by my side!

 
What to choose?  Crawl back to the ship to be carved by doubt or jump and be swallowed by the ravaging waters of publishing! 

It has come time for action.  I can’t stand on the plank forever.  I must make a decision.

 
 
 
Tonight I chose the water! 

 
 

Stay tuned to see if I survive. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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