Good Morning Michael,
Who are you?
Can you tell us a little something about the things that you do?
What’s your story about?
What type of things do you write?
Are you familiar with deception as a fictive device?
Gigantic rents in the sky,
A speck of sand in your eye,
I’m like a creature that has wings and yet refuses to fly.
Well that’s nice,
But what do you know about current publishing trends?
Do you start work on a sequel as soon as one story ends?
I’m like a murder scene played backwards until nobody dies,
Gotta keep this shit tight,
Like a CD track at night,
Played in a car with engine idling that’s stopped at traffic lights.
Well you’re certainly creative, so there’s no problem there,
But you’ve still given us no reason for the reader to care…
Oh, I am nothing to you,
But you are something to me,
For I dwell in a space too far for even Hubble to see,
And your existence is the stars that light up my night sky,
Without the stars I’d be alone and have no reason to try.
Michael Scott Hand 