Update...

Update…

Well, I just started my new quarter this week. I received my grades from last quarter. I earned a 4.0. I am very excited. I also received last week my sample/waiting for approval copy of my “September Blue” chapbook. I am self publishing through lulu.com. You can order a copy now, I think…Just search the book title or my name under P. Allan Frederick. You should find it. If not, look under ID 288626. I still haven’t approved my book yet, and that may not allow you to buy one. They are $11.00 on Lulu, but if you pre-order through me, I’ll sell them to you at $8.00 plus shipping. But that means that you will have to send me about $9.50 before hand. I’m not giving out my address, so the discount is for my friends and family who already have my mailing address. However, I ask, that if you are able, to buy it through Lulu.com. I will have copies at the Arts in the Park festival here in Flatwoods on the 14th of April (two weeks!). The festival is looking to be pretty awesome. Of course our main concern is the size of the crowd, but we are blitzing for the next two weeks, and we’ll see what happens. I of course will do my annual update and fill in for the haps of the festival. I am feeling a little frustrated about it. It started out about poets, but now, the feeling in the club is to get a big crowd for having a big crowd’s sake. We have four or five musical acts, a handful of people that want to do a reading, and hopefully some artist who will show up with their wares. I have a feeling that next year we will have to find somebody who’ll be simi-pro organizer who can really bring this thing to a head, and make it really awesome. It builds momentum every year, and we can only hope that this year will be amazing.

What I would like to do though, if offer an annual workshop to the public, that is not a club meeting, nor a special outdoors event. See, April was declared National Poetry Month by the Academy of American Poets. They publicize events all year, and coordinate many themselves. So, I’d like to just do a workshop, in maybe the library, or even someday an extension of the April event, maybe in the senior center next to the park. I don’t know, we’ll have to see.

Well, that’s it for now.

Possible final draft??

ENG 150
Professor J. Jones
Assignment: Short Story
Second Revision
P. Allan Frederick

Prince Lion and the Monster

I could but scarcely believe what my eyes beheld as I pulled open the ancient, massive wooden hatch. The howling, reeking beast towered over me. Its rancid stench filled my nostrils as I trembled from the dreadful mien on its face. I could hardly stand as I held my spear with as much courage as I, Prince Lion, could muster. I pulled my shaking arm back, ready to launch my lance into its face, when, to my great astonishment, it stopped its ferocious roaring and sniffed at my head. I paused--was it possible that this massive mountain of a creature could be pacified? Then, without notice, it sat on its hind haunches. Foul breezes wafting from its mouth blew in and out as it stared at me with a look of expectancy. Confused, I lowered my spear and stood, looking back at its relaxed face. It appeared as though this “watch dog” would let me pass after all.
Its eyes, nose and mouth looked like those of a man, but with a single horn protruding from its forehead. Fur, or perhaps filthy hair, surrounded its face like the petals of a hideous flower. Its body was a gigantic mound of scales and hide in the shape of a wild bull. Its color was pitch but for its face, which was scarlet like blood. Its steaming, giant, black hooves were double my girth and height. Its pungent odor would prevent any type of surprise it might gain on its foes, or should I say victims; however, its size would make up for any need of surprise. I slowly started to walk around it, heading towards the great massive door.
“HOLD!” it roared.
I froze in my tracks.
“You may not pass,” said the great monster. “You must solve the riddles three, before you journey this tunnel free.”
I looked at it and felt a slight tinge of fear come back. Solving riddles? I hadn’t expected a game of wits to come from such a terrifying creature.
“What are these riddles?” I boldly questioned.
“The first,” it responded, “goes like this – Round as a ball, but flat as a board, altar of the lupine lord. Pearl on black velvet, face of a man, bringing brilliance like the candle can. What is it?”
I repeated the riddle in my mind, rushing to solve this quandary. Quickly, it came to me.
“I know what it is that you describe; ‘tis the moon which you speak of!”
“Well done, young Prince. You’ve done one, now two is next, time for the other for you’ll be vexed.” It had a creepy, bitter smile that covered his yellow teeth as it spoke. Still, with each word and each breath, putrid foul gases rose through the air in the domed chamber that we were in. I looked, and just past this rank living thing was the smaller tunnel that I wished to gain access to. I feared that this overwhelmingly massive animal would best me in this war of words. I needed a back up plan, and needed one quick. Was I up to solving these puzzles, while coming up with a plan? I needed to find its weak spot; I knew that it had to have one.
“Wind through feathers,” the hideous beast snorted, “gallop through clouds.
This fabled creature makes Perseus proud. What is it?”
“Perseus, Perseus, Perseus…” I thought to myself. Where had I heard that name before? Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me! The Greek hero of the days of old -- he rode the Pegasus!
“I know what it is that you are thinking of, Giant…” I answered. “It is the Pegasus that you speak of!”
The huge brute let out a diminutive nervous growl. “I see that I face a learned man this night. But I don’t fear; as the keeper of the gate, I’m always near. But still there is one riddle left. One for sure you’ll never get.”
I didn’t like that little growl. The beast had started showing signs of nervousness. It was erratically wagging its bushy, bristly tail. Its keen round eyes were slightly bulging. It was evident that he was not used to people winning. I figured that this next riddle would for sure stump me, but there was always hope. I thought of our patron saint; Brother Bugglebee of Southforkton, in all his grace, would surely guide me by his spirit, bless his dead soul. Still, I did not see the creature’s weakness.
“I must warn you, Lion Prince, that if you do not solve this riddle third, I will eat you like a broken bird.”
“But if I win, you’ll let me pass?”
“That is the tradition. In all my years of this slavery to the Grand Master, only once had I failed him. That one man who passed is now the new Grand Master, who spared my life. In his pretentious pomposity he concluded that no man was his equal, so he continued to let me live and serve as his humble watchman. BE AFRAID!” he roared with exploding bits of spittle, rancid fumes, and ear-splitting bell tones cracking my skeletal cage to near powder. The cavern filled with flaming funk as his front pig iron hooves sparked the cold stone floor. His countenance still had that eerie revolting smirk that could blind a seeing man and revive a sick man only to die upon its gaze.
“I am a hero,” I said to myself, “and this conflict is not beyond me.” Still no weak spot and one riddle left. “What is your last riddle for me, my gargantuan friend?” He was opening his mouth to speak, and I peered my head forward into his gaping maw, and I saw it. I saw what I wanted. It had an infected tooth. This orange pumpkin was bleeding with bits of bone wedged between its black gum. One throw to the tooth should be all that I need to distract it enough so that I may pass. All I needed to do was make it through the eye-burning, nose-wrenching, and bone-rattling gasses that seep out its mouth like poisonous pit snakes ejecting their venom at their foes. “Be it my man half or lion half, I’m braver than both!” I thought to myself. It was at that time that I had to act.
“I’m ready for your final riddle, oh proud creature!”
“Then my final riddle is this: what type of bird would I eat?”
“What?” I asked in a nary-mannish squeaky voice.
“Bird, my young Prince, what kind of bird would I eat?” He glared at me with fiery globes fixated on me like burning bushes. Bird, bird, bird…bird I thought. “What was it I had seen in his teeth?” I asked myself. Bones, but wait, was it bones? I had to look again. There was something about those bones and his teeth that made it seem like a wrong question.
“Well, young Prince? What is your answer?”
As he spoke, I looked again into its mouth and saw what I remembered seeing earlier: Molars! It was molars, with sticks stuck in them, not bones. With his bull body, he had to have been a tree eater, and not a meat eater!
“You would want me to name a bird if you will, perhaps the goose, or chicken or swill? Perhaps you would like me to mention the eagle, vulture, or hawk, but then we would have to have engaged in combat. I know for sure that it is trees that you eat, perhaps even eating flowers as your treat. If that be so, then the bird I know, ‘tis the flower, Bird of Paradise!”
The beast roared with echoing madness making bits of dust, gravel and stone fall from the domed chamber. “You are right, young Prince, you are right. I said that I would let you pass, but my master would have my head. Perhaps we could strike up a deal instead.”
“I know what it is that I can do for you, my friend, with my spear. Not gouge your eye or stab your foot, but to solve your tooth ache and severe wretched breath!”
“Um, I have bad breath?” it whimpered. “None have told me this. Why have not all those who have tried to pass told me this?”
“Perhaps it is fear that stops them?” I answered cautiously. After we discussed the matter, he opened his mouth; I took my spear and wedged out the stick and weeds from his teeth and gums. The behemoth let out a slight whimper. I took the sticks and greens in my hand, held them high, and he smelled them.
“Oh, the stench! The shame!” he roared. “A great many thanks to you young Prince Lion; perhaps you do deserve to pass this beast anyhow, regardless of my master’s wrath! And pass you shall.” He looked at me in a strange yet not alarming look of affection. “It seems that we must now say our goodbyes. I must warn you, though, my prince, I am but the first obstacle in your way. There are many creatures and traps that are in your path, some more dangerous than I…perhaps I should wish you luck as well, although you will need more than luck!”
I looked at him and smiled, “At least I have made a friend thus far my behemoth brother. Perhaps my good luck has already started?” I made way past the monster as he bowed in my wake. I entered the increasingly narrowing tunnel, and heard a loud howling shriek. I turned my head back to my new enormous friend. He just smirked and shook his head.