Tag Archives: guest

Letters Of Questioning: Dreamland’s Muse

Hey all, it is that time once again for another installment of Letters of Questioning!  This week we have a guest post coming at you from Dreamland’s Insurgents.

Greetings, dear friend Ravyn,

I have watched your last bout of writing with great interest – and amusement! The muse stories with the “Bob Ross lookalike” and Richard Simmons have got to be some of the funniest stories I’ve read in a looong time.

When “Tears for My Muse” opens, I was bracing myself for a serious story full of sorrows. The moping, tragic artist as bedraggled hero. But juxtapose that with Eilack, the heartless painter who stores up the artist’s tears and serves them back to him later – damn. I felt like that drama queen got his comeuppance!

“The Pioneer” is even funnier. This is one of those times where your commitment to just the right punctuation pays off. The protagonist’s discomfort is awesome … and definitely shared. Using the second person here pays off really well. I have to put myself in the body – the corpulent body – of another person, and the cognitive dissonance just haunts the whole thing. So the humor – which is always sort of a release valve for feeling uncomfortable – is just in constant tension because of the leap my imagination has to make!

Finally, I want to talk about “Shadow’s Savior.” As a working-class scholar, I found this one the most stimulating on that level. “Factory work was all that was available to me,” the narrator begins. It quickly unfolds that the material processed in this factory is unusual – and the narrator, too, must be unusual to be any good at it. And yet the setting of a factory conjures up so much more. This isn’t a workshop where a skilled artisan owns his own means of producing artisanal or custom products. He’s alienated from his labor – and what’s more, we find out, the raw materials he’s working on are stolen from someone else. Stolen shadows: an intimate theft.

It’s capitalism, all the way down!

You asked in your last letter, “What is it that inspires the uninspired and the tired?” I think sometimes, the struggle itself has to be the inspiration. That eternal fight – which lasts only as long as we do, of course, but precedes us and gets handed down to others. We have to save the shadows. Find the folks who have less than us, realize our relationship – that our lives and theirs depend on one another. And see through the illusion. Isn’t a factory a good metaphor for illusion? The raw material comes in without history or explanation. You do your job. The finished product leaves. You can’t even afford to keep a piece. The wool is pulled over your eyes the whole time.

I want to know more about your muse stories, though. These have the making of a really fun series! How many are you going to have? Are they related? And how have your own experiences with your fickle muse inspired these stories?

Well, I think that’s all the time I have for today. But don’t worry, I will have more questions for you soon!

Viva the resistance!

-Dreamland’s Insurgents

There you have it folks. Another round of inspiring thoughts, or thoughts to inspire, or question, or… well… something! What are YOUR burning questions, we implore you, please by all means, ask us!  We love to hear from you, our rabid fans, or is that rabbit fans? Who knows, but I do know that we love to hear your thoughts, so please express them in the comments!

Guest Post – Camp Fail

Our version of Tetris!


Hey all, I know I have been gone a few days, sorry about that.  I was out helping my sister move! Lots of work and then no interwebs at the new place!  I am home, but beat, but I have a GREAT post to share with you all!  My great friend and cabin mate, StoryCoat, has some wonderful words for you, so here she is!

Camp Fail

Well, unlike my lovely cabin mate Ravyn, I did not make winner this year at camp. As I packed my proverbial bags to go home I wiped away tears of disdain at my camp fail! I nearly tripped over my lip as I headed out the door and down the trail to get on the last bus leaving camp. The bus for losers.  Ravyn bless her pea pickin’ heart, was long gone in that decked out bus for winners, banners flyin’ the whoops and hollerin’ lasting for miles down the road.
As I boarded the bus I nearly slipped on the puddle of tears dropped by others who failed to get their word count goal. I mounted the steps and stood looking at the bus full of heads hanging low, lower lips flowing over laps touching the floor of the bus. Whimpers coming from the mouths of those who had failed along with me. The bus was full, almost standing room only. (I’m also slow) Then it hit me. My lower lip zapped back up so fast it nearly bruised my teeth! We aren’t losers! We didn’t fail!! Heck! We’re on the bus!! WE ARE ON THE BUS!!! That means we took the time to at least make the effort to try. “WE ARE ON THE BUS!!” I shouted, “WE AIN’T LOSERS, WE ARE TRIERS AND WE TRIED!! WE GAVE IT A SHOT!!”
Then some little green kid looked up with teary eyes and said, “Yeah, but . . . there is no try. There’s only do or don’t do.”
“Okay,” I said. “So everybody who wrote something – anything at all for Camp NaNo raise your hand.” Every hand on the bus when up, including the little green kid’s. “Well then,” I said, “We all done did!! Maybe we didn’t do as much as we planned on doing but we did something which is a damn sight better than the millions who stayed at home doin’ nuthin’ sayin’ ‘oh yeah, dude that Camp NaNo sounds like fun. I’ma do that one of these days.’ By golly, WE got ON the bus, we came, we saw, maybe we didn’t conquer but we did a little bit and now we can go home proud of the fact that despite all the adversity we faced in the month of July, we wrote sumpthin’. Whatever it was, it counted. IT COUNTED PEOPLE!!”

You shoulda been there to hear all those long faces zapping back up to where they belonged. Even the little green guy got happy! The shouts of joy echoed for miles and miles. Sometimes it’s not whether you win or lose. Sometimes all that matters is that you made the effort!
Thanks, StoryCoat, for those amazing words of truth!  So long as you have even one word, it is one more word than you had before setting out on this Camp experience!  How about everyone else? Was camp a fail? Or did you manage to do “something”?