Tags
"Of all that is written- I love only what a person has written with his own blood." - Friedrich Nietzsch (and ink. Ink is good too), "The tragedies and joys of your time here are meant to fly within fiction. Don't waste them - love them - write of them - and make them soar.", Blurble-by-gum, Cloud Curtain Calls, From my close observation of writers... they fall into two groups: 1) those who bleed copiously and visibly at any bad review and 2) those who bleed copiously and secretly at any bad review. - Isaac A, Hoomor, If you can't say something nice - say anything it's better than nowt - hahahaha, Love is all you need and some beer is a bonus, My Life as a Cult Leader by Esmeralda Cloud, No old cabbage or tommy toes thank you very much, Prose, The Yo-Yo Esmeo Crew, Tickle-ye-Esme, Tumbleweed, WTAFISOA?
Said thoughts being yours for ‘The Book’ — the true title is top (upper shelf, hidden behind emergency tins of beans and hand gel) secret. Secret McSecret. Said wares being Esme’s offerings over the past five years and the things you liked bestest about them, all zhuzhed-up for the book, and they shall be the body of her long-awaited (ready when she’s pensionable) tome.
I would like to add some wordage from you, yes you! * Throws a few paper darts at those wearing straightjackets *. Your wordage regarding Esme and her Cloud or Esme’s Cloud (depending on how it perches in your brain snakes) to be added to The Book of Esme Cloudiness (still not its name) at either the beginning, the end, or randomly plonked where the Gods and medium to small-sized dogs decree. I am informed this is also known as ‘blurb’.
Your eulogy, your encomium, your paean, panegyric, tribute (and so forth), shall be placed wherever they fit the right nook and tropospheric cranny. * Just about manages to restrain herself from flashing said cranny*. And I will do my very best to get as many as possible in there. *Salutes and sings The Cloud’s Anthem: Cover My Wings With Popcorn Because Cop-porn Gets You Arrested *
So, I beg of thee, do tell what you make of this place and the offerings presented. (Other than a hat or a brooch). I should add this isn’t some kind of ego-ridden tommy-tank fest for Esme (sounds like something you wear wellington boots for — falls about ). It’s to insert some of you into the tome, connect with my unsung heroes (who she’s asking to sing about herself, ha!) who have supported and made The Cloud and Esme so very happy over the years. * Holds Professor Taboo off with a high-voltage prod *
Terms and cravats:
No more than 200 words (give or take a semi), no fewer than one (good grief). Size isn’t everything mind folks. One line can be as powerful as an essay, and also no-one shall find frowns floating down upon them if they do nowt but give a ‘like’ to this very (very) post.
Your thoughts may be on whatever you fancy, though ideally will be connected in some form to Esme, and/or The Cloud’s musings, the pomes, the tales (heads and nostrils), sticky bun moments, tragedy, joy, sauce, howling and more (or less). Serious or giddy, both or either, all good. * Suddenly considers writing her own reviews and sliding them across the table for people to sign then realises everyone can hear her thinking so shuts the hell up. *
Swear words and cussing of all kinds allowed. No opera, ideally.
I’m not against the odd stick man.
You promise that you shall not hunt Esme down and bury her in a pile of her own books interspersed with locally sourced dog poo should your forty-page essay not be included.
You may use any name you wish, even if it be a completely new one. (So long as it isn’t Esmeralda Cloud. This covers the ubiquitous there’s-always-one factor.)
Offerings to be written either in the comment section below — * looks over the edge of the Cloud and waves * — or by email to esmeuponthecloud [at] gmail.com or on the back of a cereal packet posted to The Cloud’s agent:
Ophelia Fanny
The Cockswell Inn
6 Scrattchett Street
Ball Locks
Itchin
Uranus
TW18 1AT
- Watches around a fifth of her followers click ‘Unfollow’ and head for the WP hills, never to be seen again. *
Esme swears her undying love to those still in attendance (or a-nine-sticky-buns-dance), to all creatures and gods great and small that sit before her wearing their ceremonial cloaks and tin foil hats proudly/relatively horrified. To wit: The Followers, Members of the Cult of The Cloud, The Dice-apples, The Yo-Yo Esmeo Crew gettin’ down (and needing a hand to get back up again). In short, to you.
I’m tagging Michael and Swarn in as they asked to be notified when this momentous day should fall, and here it is hands over a grilled day on toast.
Esme's Cloud 
Dear Ms Fanny,
I hunted high and low for a virtual cereal box upon which to scrawl this note, but regrettably I was unable to find one; this will have to do. I am led to understand that one ‘Esme’, whom I have known for some considerable millennia, has plans to immortalise her worms in the form of a tode, and is seeking reassurances. I can certify that Esme, is of sound mind (well, mostly) and should not be proscribed for her perpetual lunacy.
I trust that this will secure me a substantial discount on the purchase price of the forthcoming product, as has been promised by Esme herself in the form of randomly selected letters from her solicitation (‘cunningly hidden’ would be an understatement).
I hope that all is well on Uranus, and remain,
Yours faithfully,
Et cetera et cetera.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you sir, Fanny showed me everything. And I didn’t have to pay you more than a fiver!
Most appreciated and noted
LikeLike
“You don’t encounter someone like Esme every day. In fact, you never encounter someone like Esme, unless it’s Esme herself. One-of-a-kind, And strange, but in a good way. “
LikeLiked by 2 people
The one and only eh? Thank you, I’m happy to be strange in a good way, that’s a bit like a collector’s edition of a being sat with other oddities on a shelf in some God’s library. I’d like to be dusted every now and again mind, my allergies play quantum havoc with the old sinuses beams and thanks him a great deal.
LikeLiked by 1 person
‘A lunacy of ideas’ & ‘confetti as sprinkled words’. Those of us, kneecaps oiled, deodorant duly applied to pits and beyond, trilby hats donned as a matter of manners, only then can we peek at the cloud. I send you my best regards, Ms Esme Super-Stuff. Yours truly, The Old Fool
LikeLiked by 2 people
Brilliant. Very chuffed Mike, thank you so much.
-Esme Cloud kissing the old fool on the cheek
LikeLiked by 1 person
To add on to Esme be like ‘mending the Bible, which according to some would be blasphemous libel, so try at my best to pass this as your guest, but my scribbler has must punt ‘mongst your rivals.
LikeLiked by 3 people
A cracker! You’re in, Jim! Hahahahahaha.
But seriously, thank you, I appreciate the effort there, and you are as fine a Cloudster and the next man/woman/wombat – Esme shoves Professor Taboo and three gin rummy playing wombats off the Cloud to give Jim a pew (phew)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I feel a little off, like my wordsmithing marbles have run amuck and my peeries and cats eyes? Well, they seem rather fucked. But I always enjoy catching a glimpse of your royal hiney in print.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Not at all, your marbles are shiney and have disturbing swirls in them, don’t knock your marbles man!
LikeLiked by 1 person
OF
It’s like finding a little door in a forest, and behind that door is an odd little carnival, and directing that carnival is a girl/woman who might be seven and a half, or seventy and a half. It’s hard to say, but that really doesn’t matter.
LikeLiked by 4 people
You know too much.
laughs a lot. Beautiful description John, thank you with mucho gusto.
LikeLiked by 2 people
What shall I say? Expect the unexpected. neatly ties together the trite and the true and who can say fairer than that?
LikeLiked by 2 people
Tales of the. Trite and true to the very end is Esme dear Ben, thank you, very fair indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I trust that your hand had been thoroughly sanitised before proffering it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In alcohol gel (Jack Daniels based of course snorts a bit) up my eyebrows. You’re safe as ‘owses.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My sincere congratulations on (what I presume is) the near completion of your forthcoming book, Esme. I know that a huge amount of work will have been put into it thus far, and imagine the project to be something very dear to your heart. I can appreciate that completing the content of even a modestly-sized book and (most importantly) bringing that content up to publishable quality is a real accomplishment, demanding thousands of hours of heartfelt endeavour; and to do so without the assistance of a professional team of editors and proofreaders is especially laudable. So again, many congratulations, well done! I trust your loyal readers here will feel inclined to offer some words of approval based on their experiences here, and in their own understanding of the scale of the task you have undertaken. Are you choosing an auspicious time to launch it? Here is my summing up.
‘I have been a keen reader of Esme Cloud’s blog for some five years at the time of writing, at the outset soon discovering there an eclectic mix of obliquely imaginative, sharp-witted and enticingly lyrical prose and poetry. Readers of this book might ready themselves for something of a wild ride, as the author’s proclivity is for a constant diving into g-force-pulling hairpin-bends of divergent genres — now touchingly (yet never cloyingly) tender-hearted, now elegiac (yet never clumsily dolorous), here an admix of end-of-times urban brutality with freewheeling fantasy, there a philosophical threnody on time and the many worlds, next a simple serving of self-aware saucy doggerel to raise yet another eyebrow (you will run out of them) — all to be swept through before one has the chance to steady the breath, to replace the book at one’s bedside table, to drift into sleep with a trace of a smile painted on the oddly thrumming darkness.
— Hariod Brawn, author of The Waves Trilogy’
LikeLiked by 4 people
Massively appreciated Hariod, some of this is better scribed than the actual book! Hahahahaha. Such kind and thoughtful thoughts, especially regarding the actual penning. No team of professional proofreaders, no, but a very small loyal band of beta readers who cast their eye over pieces when called upon and one very clever, sharp as a knife editor/proofer who has been helping me free of charge for the love of the Cloud alone. I’m very lucky to have them
‘Are you choosing an auspicious time to launch it?‘ – Yes, at the end of Armageddon in six months time!
Also well done for slipping a huge plug for your own coming set of books. Hahahahahaha.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hello Esme! It’s been a very busy week in the working world for me, so I’m just catching up here… but definitely wish to contribute my heartfelt congratulations to your accomplishments! It is a huge endeavor to complete a project like this–a labor of love (and sorrow), a gambit, a commitment, a dare, and a devilry all at once. I look forward very much to enjoying a copy of ‘the Book’ when available. Meanwhile, I would very much like to add a few words for those who may not realize what they are missing…!
There are those who refuse to deprive this world of the promise contained in the center of their being. Esme is one of those. Her love of language is contagious, but it is her love of love, in all its forms, that is the clincher. To partake of the Cloud’s witty distillations is to enjoy a most delectable vice—the rare sort of pleasure that upends you, but never requires that you land.
Michael
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m incredibly touched by this Michael. Thank you so much, I’m as close to lost for said words as I get. ❤️
Esme hugging Michael and sniffing a bit upon the Cloud
LikeLike
It is unclear to me how I first came upon this place. This Cloud. It is not fantasy here, but fantastical. It is a place to rival Wonderland. It is as you would expect a cloud to be. You can pass through each thing as you would anything imaginary, and yet the owner of this “Cloud” makes you experience every word as if it was as real as the chair you are sitting on as you read. Making you quite quickly forget about your chair.
You may come the Cloud, and you may meet the purveyor of all the treats she sells here. You may wonder who is this marvelous person you have met? For she herself seems a character out of a story. As a scientist there is a great desire for me to see the wizard behind the curtain, and yet if I am to be honest, so thoroughly does her prose and poetry delight me that at some point I found myself content with letting myself just sitting to the side of the yellow brick road in a wicker chair, watching a few lions, tigers, and bears go by, have some popcorn while flying monkeys soar overhead, and feeling great joy that magic exists, even for a short time.
For me magic is that which cannot be explained, and what you do not wish to explain. This is what Esme gives you on her Cloud. If you love language, there is no one who understands the turning and twisting of words like Esme. There are chefs who can create great things with you with simple ingredients. But you throw fancy cooking tools and ingredients and it will simply be beyond their Ken and their creations will be disappointing. Esme is a master chef, and on her cloud she takes the full gamut of vocabulary and tools the English language can provide and creates things unlike anything you’ve experienced before. But this description can give you a false impression that she simply is trying to impress and such things have can have an air of pretension to it. This could not be further from the truth. There is so much heart in every piece. At times beautiful and elegant, at other times as playful as a child. Her humor is divine and her soul corporeal. Every piece is art, and that art speaks the message of the artist. As all good art does. You could get to know the owner of the Cloud through an interview (though I daresay you would have to offer her a lot of sticky buns and sit through endless cartwheels before she started speaking), but you will be poorer for it, because you would not have gotten to know her as an arrow knows its target.
The far better journey is to read her words and dance and weave your way towards her, like a merry reveler on New Year’s Eve who has had far too much wine. And if you haven’t passed out by then, she is likely to graciously dance with you. I made it there once, but I’m afraid I stepped on her toe. She didn’t get angry, just gave a little laugh, waved a little bye-bye and I promptly fell through the Cloud. I did not mind for the air was pleasant as it rushed by me, and she makes sure every landing is soft. And with every new creation of her you get to ascend to the Cloud and dance again.
How did I find this place? I don’t know. I’m just glad to be here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’ve made me really want to visit. And I inhabit the place. That’s pretty impressive.
“If you love language, there is no one who understands the turning and twisting of words like Esme. Her humor is divine and her soul corporeal. Every piece is art, and that art speaks the message of the artist.” I’ve just taken a couple of lines to show my appreciation but it’s all astonishing. I will have to edit you down, but I know you can take it, hahahahaha.
Enormous thanks Swarn, I’m as smacked as a gob gets in the best way possible. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person