The Pyrenees---Southern France

The Pyrenees---Southern France

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Sioux the Stalker

           Sometimes I stalk writers in person. When I saw him at a teacher's convention, I tried to kiss the big ring on John Reynolds Gardiner's hand like he was the Pope. I almost kneeled down. (Gardiner is the author of Stone Fox, a children's book that makes me cry every year when I use it in my class.)

       I've stalked publishers, via local authors. (Kristina Makansi--I'm talkin' 'bout you.) I've even stalked a friend who was plagued by postpartum depression. 

       Bloggers are the same. There are quite a few I follow. Many I love are loved by hordes of people. And others try to fly under the radar. Here are a few bloggers I stalk:

Hillbilly Mom

This writer is quite secretive. She lives in the same state that I do. She's a teacher (or so she says). But when you try to dig up the dirt on her, you come up with an empty shovel. Nowhere on her blog is her real name. It makes me wonder what she's trying to hide?

However, what she makes no move to hide is what goes on in her daily life. In her posts (that appear every day), she shares what her PITA of a husband does, what her kids are up to (occasionally) and what living in the country is like. Her writing reminds me of another writer's style... I just can't place it.


Shay Caroline Simmons has more personalities than she has names. At least it seems like she's suffering from multiple personality disorder. Each one of her brilliant poems is searingly different. One day, she might post a poem that's bittersweet and tender. The next day? A poem that's bitter and biting, her lines spewing spittle.

Once I won a custom-made poem from Shay. I gave her the topic... she wrote the poem, and now it's hanging in my writing room. I typed it up in a large font, and created a custom mat for it. (Okay, what I really did was buy a mat and frame from a thrift store and decorated the mat with a marker... but I guarantee you, there's no other frame like it.) Here's the poem:

Damn the Match

I said, damn the match that set me on fire
But no one heard
so I fanned myself with books, and oh
How I burned.

Damn the one who made me feel nothingly small,
This lonesome girl--
Then I spit my anger on a black-curling page,
And blistered the world.

Damn the distance that keeps my love from me,
The miles are sin--
Then I wrote out my love as a pink-fire dawn,
Warm on her skin.

Bless the match that each finger is,
To strike what I feel into words that be
An incendiary flow from soul to sky,
One burned-bright star that's made from... me.

                                                                  --Shay Caroline Simmons

Mama Zen--Mama Zen/Kelli, like Fireblossom, is a poet. In fact, the two have collaborated on poetry collections. Also like Fireblossom, Mama Zen's poems seem to come from different people--the tone, the voice is so varied... and so succinct. This poet can write jaw-dropping pieces in way less than 50 words. (Many times I count them, because I'm so ticked off she can say so much with so few words.) 

So, I'm a stalker. I follow some writers (and some publishers) a little too closely. Sue me. 

Have you ever stalked a writer/celebrity? Have you ever been stalked by a stranger because you're a weirdo-magnet? Stalking minds want to know...


  1. Be careful... the reputation precedes the writer, you stalker. Being awestruck is not the same as stalking. But kiss his ring? It;s a wonder he didn't clobber you. LOL

    1. Linda--I suppose that stalker is too strong of a word. But "Being Awestruck" is not as intriguing as a title, in my opinion...

      (And there were a bunch of teachers excited about meeting Gardiner, so if he was in the mood to clobber, he would have had to clobber a bunch of us.)

  2. No dirt on ME, Madam, even though I'm deep underground. Why do I have the feeling I might be rear-ended, with how closely you are following me?

    Let the record show that I will not stand for ring-kissing. First of all, why stand when you can lounge around in a La-Z-Boy, and why wear a ring when it might deflect a knife during onion-dicing, and deprive you of a blog post with a questionable photo of your injured appendage?

    I am not a stalker per se, but some might suspect me, because I have a steel-trap mind for details. Just like some other blogger who is a walking Wikipedia for Seinfeld...

    1. HM--Even this post was not enough to compel you to reveal yourself? What will it take?

      Speaking of Seinfeld... Those people who are obsessed with Seinfeld are off their rocker. Seriously. Like George who's obsessed with draping himself in velvet and is obsessed with getting credit for buying the "big salad"... like Jerry who's obsessed with discovering if his girlfriend's rack is real and is obsessed with finding out what his girlfriend's name is (Delores?)... like Elaine who's obsessed with weeding out the ones who are not Sponge-worthy and who's obsessed with finding out what all the doctors are writing about her... like Kramer who's obsessed with widening the driving lanes and is obsessed with inventing an oil bladder that doesn't leak (unless it falls out of an apartment window)... Those Seinfeld fans are crazy.

  3. I confess that I "keep up" with Neil Gaiman pretty closely, if you catch my drift. But I'm also pretty sneaky. So far, he hasn't noticed me. :-)

    1. Cathy--Keep the disguises varied, and he'll remain in the dark.

  4. Lady, you are too kind! This was such an awesome surprise on a pretty crappy morning.

  5. I wrote but my comment evaporated. Shall I try again? I have never stalked or been stalked I don't think, but I enjoyed reading about your stalking!

  6. Claudia--I hate when Blogger does that to me. (It happens often when it does happen.) If I ever get caught, I hope you will enjoy visiting me in prison... ;)

  7. Hey thanks for the recommendations. I will have to check some of these out!

  8. Can't say I'm a stalker, but I do enjoy catching up with blog posts.

  9. I didn't know you got your own poem from Shay! Not fair.


  10. I didn't know you got your own poem from Shay! Not fair.



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