Looking for a serious writer

[BILLY BONES]

I'm not sure this is in the correct heading. I'm looking to change careers a little bit, and am hoping one of you on the account, may be writing a book that requires illustrations having to do with the history of piracy. I tend to illustrate in an authentic manner, am currently painting for a pirate and seafarer's library --- Any literary types need pictures? Let me know. BB

[Blackbead]

Good day to ye, Cap'n Bones,

I be currently working with two of the other folk here at the pub on a book of poetry that will include illustrations. This may not be what you be lookin' for but here be a sample of the work that be makin' up the book:

THE HOMECOMING OF DANNY FRY

It was a cold, stormy night at the Rose & Crown

But all of me regulars were there;

The village of Tween is a proper English town

And I serve proper English fare.

A soul can live a long, hard life

Without traveling from home too far,

A few snotty brats, taxation and debt

Are fair substitutes for the plague and war.

Sitting in the corner was a proof of me point

It was Tom Johns, our town’s overworked tailor.

With a family of four and a poor clientele

He barely stayed ahead of the King’s gaoler.

Most of his pints he drank for free -

He mended me pants and shirts instead.

I felt sorry for the lad: he couldn’t sew his taxes

And he couldn’t pay his rent with thread.

There were others in the Crown that night

And all were cut from poor Tom’s mold.

Clutching their mugs and staring into space,

They stayed to keep out of the rain and the cold.

I was standing back of me bar, pondering all of me friends,

When there was a sudden commotion outside;

With a bluster and a curse and a cold wet wind

The front door of me pub burst open wide.

In strode a man in a tricorn’ hat

Sporting a long beard and a cutlass at his hip,

Wearing buckets, a sash, and a seaman’s coat

He looked like the captain of a pirate ship.

With a twinkle in his eye and a toothy gold smile

He took in me pub and the sad-looking crowd.

Shivering off his wet jacket then turning to the room,

He bellowed out a greeting clear and loud:

“I’ve sailed with brigands, black, brown, and white;

I’ve drunk whole wine kegs dry;

I’ve taken gold prizes from the Spanish and the French;

And I’ve cheered as me guns let fly.”

“I’ve sailed ‘neath starry, Caribbean skies;

I’ve rounded the Cape to the Horn;

But after spending half me life at sea

I’ve returned to the village where I was born.”

“Chests of gold and jewels have I

And I have stories from where ‘ere I roam,

So come, me hearties, the drinks are on me,

‘Cause I’ve come back to make Tween me home!”

His gaze met a room of glazed-over looks,

These men who life had beat down,

So the pirate strode to the center of the room,

And cast his weather eye all around.

“Well, well, lookee there, it’s little Tommy Johns,

I remember ye from when I was a lad.

Remember stealing milk from Squire Hunt’s cows?

Right little imps we were, but never really bad.”

“And look over there! It’s me ‘ol friend, Pat!

I hear ye left the Army late last year.

I’ll bet your mother was glad to have ye home;

Now there’s a lady I always held dear.”

One by one, he called us all by name

And reminded us we’d known him in days gone by,

And it soon dawned upon me that ’neath that shaggy beard,

Was me old friend and neighbor, Danny Fry.

Rising to their feet me regulars let out a cheer

And all came forward to shake Danny’s hand.

Then he tossed me a pouch of silver and gold

And ordered up a feast both great and grand.

As the cook went off to prepare the huge meal,

I poured out the pub the first round of beer,

Then stoking the fire, Danny began to regale us

With tales of his life as an English privateer.

He told us of sacking great cities

As he plundered the enemies of the Crown

And he told us of taking a galleon

After bringing it’s mainmast down.

Danny made us feel we were with him

As he talked of a ruby necklace and more

That he took from a willing French lady,

After safely putting her ashore.

Danny knew how to tell a story

And we would listen again and again

As he told of his grand adventures

And the treasures he shared with his men.

Everyone ate and drank their fill that night,

As we devoured Danny’s tales of the sea.

We forgot all about our troubles -

We were happy, we were men again, and we were free.

With laughter and smiles and friends arm in arm,

We all stumbled off into the morning light,

But none of us cared as we faced our red-eyed day:

Because of Danny, we’d all become pirates that night!

Stephen Sanders

© 2008

The book will be entirely poetry so that may not be something you be interested in; if not, no harm done and I'll wish ye fair winds. But, if ye have a mind to discuss this further, drop me an epistle and we can take up a talk.

Blackbead

[BILLY BONES]

Blackbead, NICE! I do appreciate the opportunity, but as you said, it's not quite what I'm looking for. Thanks again, BB

[Blackbead]

No worries, mate! I had a feeling that you were looking for a different venue but I wanted to ask. Good luck in your search!

Blackbead

[Black Syren]

Hmm Im working on a series of children's books titled the Littlest Pirate, but they will be for children.