I didn’t expect anything less than brilliance when Seumas Gallacher offered to “pen a few lines” in celebration of the 2nd Anniversary for my other author-promotion blog, Reading Recommendations! Thank you, Seumas, for making us cry with laughter when I read the following “poem” aloud to Dennis while we sat on our Bequia verandah drinking coffee this morning.
You are THAT MAN! Luvs yah! Mwahhhhhh!!!
(And for those who enjoy the spoken word, Seumas has also created this video in which he recites the poem in his wonderful Glaswegian accent!)
A bunch of the boys were reading it up
In the Bequia book saloon,
The kid that handles the ol’ sales till
Was selling like a mad baboon.
Back of the store, with a Kindle Fire
Sat the lady that’s known as Sue.
When out of the night, which was thirty y’know,
And into the books stacked ceiling to floor
There stumbled a writer fresh from his Mac,
Dog-eared and looking for more.
He looked like a tramp with hardly a dime
And scarcely the price of a cup
Yet, he glanced at one novel, and reached out his hand
And gingerly he picked it up.
There was none could place the stranger’s face
With bookmarks hanging out of his shoe,
But we cleared him some space, and the last to clear
Was the lady known as Sue.
There are scribblers that somehow hold your gaze,
And grip so hard you can tell
That here was a lad, from wherever he came,
Had been to the Libr’y of Hell;
With kind of a squint, and the stare of a monk,
Whose hands had typed far too much
As he read through the book in a wee ingle-nook,
And his face would twitch just a touch.
Then I got wond’ring just who he might be,
And even what he might do,
And I turned my head—and there looking at him
Was the lady that’s known as Sue.
His eyes kept coming back to the tome.
The one he held in his mitt,
Till at last the dust on the fly-cover leaf
Cleared for all to decipher it.
And he started to read, the lines and the scan
Like nobody else could have done
With a drawl and a twang, my God, these words sang
In a voice that wavered and honed.
Were you ever listed in the Great Amazon
At the mercy of the wolves called ‘reviews’?
And you waited daily for word of your sales
Or heard it on Smashwords’ list news?
With only the hope of a turning of phrase
That delighted you first time you wrote?
–A half-dead zombie could breathe more than you,
When the two-star reviewer clawed at your throat.
That, my boys, that was the look
Flirting across this forlorn guy’s face
An author of sorts, respected by some,
Still searching for a bestseller place.
Then all of a sudden, that poor scribbler turned,
The eyes darting forth from the boy,
And his stare stopped dead in its tracks
At the lady we all know as ‘Toy’.
He held out his hand and offered the book,
With a whimper that came from the heart;
‘Please,’ he croaked, ‘a review from you,
Will give me that much-needed start.’
The room fell more quiet, and we all held our breath
Waiting to see what she’d say.
She skimmed through his book, for indeed it was his,
And observed him in a strange kind of way.
Then a smile crossed her face, and she nodded at him,
With the wisdom of someone who knew,
And the tears on his face retreated apace,
And smiled back at the lady called Sue.
‘Of course, I’ll give it a read, that man, said she,
And I’ll see about some commendations
And sooner or later, we all understood,
It’ll be on Recommendations.
So, lift a glass, or two, three or more,
For these coupla years now gone through,
And acknowledge the love and assistance we’ve had,
From the Lady we all know as Sue.
Is that a kitten in your sporran or are you just happy to see me?