Posted in Poetry, Writing

Updates & Announcements

FallLeaves

Hello all!

I hope everyone’s having a happy holiday weekend. I’m on vacation too. In fact, I’m not *really* posting this right now. I’m really eating pie(s) and playing games with my family. This blog post is all an illusion. Kinda spooky, huh? (Sorry, I think I’m a little lightheaded from all the sweets.) Anyway, I’m going to keep it short today so that you can get back to your own pie-eating, football-watching, and gift-shopping ASAP.

I just have a few announcements to make.

First, my flash fiction piece “My New Place” was published at MicroHorror earlier this month, and somehow I forgot to share it! Check it out here when you have a minute. It won’t take long to read—all of MicroHorror’s pieces have to be 666 words or less.

I’ve also received some good news regarding my poetry. Sirius Education Solutions asked for permission to reprint my poem “Enchanted Rock in September” in their Grade 7 STAAR Reading Review and Preparation workbook, and I agreed. So if you’re in the seventh grade or if you teach seventh grade reading, be on the lookout for it. I’m interested to see what questions they ask about my poem.

I entered several poems in this year’s Poetry Society of Texas’ annual awards competition, and twelve of them placed in the top ten in their contests, ranging from 2nd to 10th place. I’d like to share one of them with you here. “Old Soul” earned eighth place (out of fifty-two entries) in the Oscar A. Fasel Memorial Award.

Old Soul

Not even two years old,
but already I see your puppy face changing,
taking in the world, gathering knowledge,
new epiphanies every day.

It’s not hard to look down the road a ways,
and see you in your later years—
I can picture your graying muzzle,
and the sigh you will make
as you lower your aging bones to the ground,
the way you’ll ease yourself onto the sofa
or maybe need a little help.

You may be young, but you have an old soul.

Even now,
you look at me with those insightful eyes,
full of answers, of understanding,
full of the simplicity of a life
I make so complex.

There’s no doubt in my mind
you’ll be a wise old dog someday,
a quiet companion, a peaceful protector,
content to rest on the porch
watching the squirrels in the backyard,
thinking of your youth
and the days when you chased
their great-grandparents
up trees.

My inspiration for "Old Soul"
My inspiration for “Old Soul”

And last, but definitely not least, today I have another guest post on the Muffin, the blog of WOW! Women on Writing. Click here to read “The Gifts We Are Given.”

Okay, that’s it! You can go get another piece of pie now. Or take a nap. Or maybe a walk. Whatever you think is best. 🙂

[Note: Comments are turned off for this post, but feel free to share your thoughts on “My New Place” or “The Gifts We Are Given” on the MicroHorror or Muffin websites.]

Posted in Halloween, Random, Writing

The Tomato-Elevator and Other Weird Stuff

One year ago today, my shortest and weirdest horror story was published at MicroHorror. Though I can’t explain why, I’m actually quite fond of it. Here is “The Tomato-Elevator.”

Ghostie

The Tomato-Elevator

The tomato-elevator had accidentally produced a squash, again. The director would be displeased.

The workers sought to find the hiccup in the mechanism, but due to the make-up of the machine, it was impossible to see what went on between the thirteenth rung and the fourteenth without dismantling the apparatus completely. And that was forbidden by the warning label. All they could know for sure was that at rung thirteen, they had a slightly bruised, despondent tomato, and at rung fourteen they had an extremely confident squash.

“Why does this keep happening?” asked Bill, who had only been elevating tomatoes for three weeks.

No one responded, but eyes looked at eyes looked at eyes and none of the eyes were Bill’s.

The eyes all said the same thing. There had never been a squash before Bill arrived.

The director was on her way. Decisions had to be made.

“What if…” Bill licked his lips with the effort of thinking, “…what if we made a squash-demoter? You think? You think maybe at rung thirteen it might…”

The eyes looked at the floor looked at the shoes. The eyes did not acknowledge that this was a good idea.

“Fellas?” Bill inquired at bowed heads, hunched shoulders. “Fellas…”

Arms reached, hands grabbed, fingers gripped. Mouth was covered, limbs were restrained, necessary adjustments were made.

Parts were removed.

By the time the director arrived, the machine had been loaded, the mess cleaned up. The workers wore expressions of complacent boredom which clashed with the beads of sweat forming on white foreheads.

Checkmarks on clipboards, satisfied nods to the symphonic whir of machinery, bland admonishments about time and productivity. The director’s stay lasted only forty-seven seconds. She had left the room before the large, dark, misshapen tomato entered the elevation chamber.

When Bill’s heart went from the thirteenth rung to the fourteenth, it turned into a squash.

© Carie Juettner, 2013.
All rights reserved.

Zombies

Want more weird stuff? My Tumblr has been on a Halloweeny kick this month too. Check out What’s In My Journal.

Here are some things you might have missed:

* The Time I Found a Spell Book in My New Apartment
* How My Halloween Tarot Cards Gave Me a Shock
* My Ideas For a Haunted Water Park (<– Someone please make this dream come true!)