My Metamorphosis by Gregor Samsa

First sentence:

After extensive psychotherapy, numerous reconstructive surgeries, and getting an MFA in creative writing, I decided to write my own story and stop living in that author Kafka’s imaginary world where I was relegated to a less than satisfying existence as a giant beetle.

Last sentence:

I cannot believe that after nearly a decade of toiling on My Metamorphosis, while attempting to write the book’s final sentence, I wake up looking like that angst-ridden, melancholy Kafka, and my literary reward will not be a bestseller but the need for additional psychotherapy, even more reconstructive surgeries, and perhaps going on a writer’s retreat in the existential middle of nowhere where I might be able to recover from the ordeal of writing this book.

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Gregor Samsa is the unforgettable protagonist of Franz Kafka’s classic short story, “The Metamorphosis.”

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Somewhat real Canadian author: J. J. Steinfeld.

For a bio note and a sample of his scribblings, visit the aforementioned somewhat real author in the ditch:

http://www.ditchpoetry.com/jjsteinfeld.htm

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By the way, J. J. Steinfeld’s latest book, Word Burials (Crossing Chaos Enigmatic Ink, 2009), comprised of a novel and five short stories, just happens to contain a short story titled “Gregor Samsa Was Never in the Beatles,” which can be read at Saucytooth’s Webthology:

http://www.crossingchaos.com/Saucytooth_Webthology.html

Or if you would like to get your literature-loving hands on a copy of Word Burials, drop everything you’re doing and visit:

http://www.crossingchaos.com/Word_Burials_by_JJ_Steinfeld.html

The World in a Nutshell by Triton Clicher

First: Under the celestial lamplight of the moon, Vernon gave the chipmunks a run for their nuts, swaggering drunkenly across the lawn, shouting non-sequiturs into the trees where they took refuge, and tripping over the turtle sandbox he had installed for his imaginary children — but something perplexed him, arrested his thoughts, came at him like a barrier: Aren't watch pockets just wisdom teeth for pants?

Last: The time for tears had passed — June missed Vernon, but the indelible stamp he had left on the bungalow made him come alive again, as if he were there with her, holding her hand and brandishing that green crayon, saying, Look what I can draw on the ceiling; as if he hadn't been the unfortunate victim of a graveyard bulldozer accident, but was still here, cherishing their memories together, adding to the banana peel collage or chucking another rock in the garbage disposal to make June laugh and laugh and laugh; as if he still played the ukulele with strings of Mardi Gras beads and brought her chrysanthemums from the neighbor's windows, or hurled the cat at an unsuspecting passer-by.

Triton Clicher was born on a stolen boat to international vagrants somewhere in the Pacific and has yet to figure out his nationality. He is the author of several children's books, including Wally the Walrus Learns CPR, Look! A Book!, Pick Out the Pigeon, Hitler's Arsenal, and Jolly Jolly Gumdrops, as well as three novels, Dalí Was A Woman, The Man From Nantucket, and Leprosy in Limerick(forthcoming from Halibut Press). He tried to write a travel book once but realized he hadn't been anywhere outside his bedroom for twenty-five cold years. He lives with his wife, Tippet, and their cat, Darjeeing, and eats lots of oatmeal.

Real Bio: Kevin Dickinson is the editor of Writers' Bloc, a literary magazine of Rutgers University. He thinks it would be wonderful if, when he died, his friends and relatives would please dump a pile of books into his grave in lieu of dirt, which is messy and unreadable. He would also like someone to devise a cranial organization system so that he can stop living his life on the little pieces of white paper that litter his work area. He drinks enough tea to float the Titanic and loves to write with the subsequent bursts of energy. He has no cats, not named anything because they do not exist.

Season of the Senses by Kanji O'Malley

Season of the Senses

First: She smelled of apples, wood smoke and the open fires of 1,000 winter nights.

Last: The memory of her vanishing, like the snow flake on his tongue, leaving behind only the impression of beauty and of loss.

Kanji O'Malley is a Japanese Irishman. Thisunique blend of cultures has given him great insight into the human psyche.

He has published many Haiku collections, including his prize winning collection of Sushi and Cabbages. Season of the Senses is his first novel.

Real Author: Evie King (Bio in first submission)

Of Suicide and Sunsets by Margo Shelly

I am drawn to the nonprofit; to the hungry, abused, scrawny, kitten… not the friendly, undamaged ones.

Crepuscular is anything that is active at dusk cats, moths .... or my soul.

Margo Shelly had an unhappy childhood. She began writing to come to terms with her misery. She is a poet of some renown and much sorrow. Her book Young Verse for old Souls was published by the Pottingham Press.

Real Author: Evie King (Bio under earlier submission.)

In a Foreign Land by Lucinda Bailey

Our childhood was spent watching the world change through our father’s eyes as one blissful summer day melted into another and one season followed the next, life repeating itself effortlessly, unaware our turn would eventually come to witness and experience, on our own terms, all the joys and sorrows fate was determined to bestow.


First: “I’m upset because somewhere between being too young, I became too old, blissfully ignorant I’d even crossed the boundary between the two worlds, but, now, I feel like I’m trapped in a foreign land,,” Miranda said and closed the old photo album which held a past both remembered and forgotten.


Last: Lucinda Bailey has spent her life working a series of jobs, traveling in her leisure, and, now in her declining years, written her first novel, benefiting from the value of life’s lessons and the perspective offered by each phase.


Janet Yung lives and writes in St. Louis. Short fiction has appeared in “Tertulia”, “eMuse”, and “Postcard Shorts” among others.