Q Is A Bad Letter And Other Qq Crazy Stories

Prepare to dive into a world of enigmatic intrigue, where the lines between reality and absurdity blur, and where truth is stranger than fiction. If you've ever questioned who's really in control—the government or the citizens—this book is your thought-provoking journey. In these pages, you'll encounter a cast of unforgettable characters, each with a story as unique as their names: Mabel Sanger, who ran out of time; Gusta, who died from the generosity of others; and Thomas Jefferson Roosevelt, desperate to send an unusual clock to a Senator. As you navigate this surreal landscape, you'll find yourself pondering the ultimate showdown between Civillains and Psyclopians, a conflict that will challenge your understanding of power, identity, and society itself. In a narrative that seamlessly blends the ordinary with the extraordinary, you'll uncover tales that will have you scratching your head and wondering if the author might have been on to something. Imagination is a powerful force, and within these pages, it's unleashed to its fullest potential. Can you decipher the hidden truths that lie beneath the surface of these bizarre stories? Join us on a mind-bending journey where the unexpected becomes the norm, and where every page holds the potential to make you question the world as you know it. Are you ready to explore a world where imagination knows no bounds and the quest for understanding never truly ends? If you are a fan of George Orwell, you will love this book. Excerpt: As Mabel Marie bounced through the smoky doors of the LaSalle Building, a cicada landed in the uppermost region of her tall hair. And when I say tall hair, I mean Texas-sized hair with blond locks where the bees get lightheaded flying in and around the hive. A mute in a tattered coat and missing his fingers on his right hand, except his middle finger, pointed and sputtered at her head. He sprinkled Mabel Marie's blue suit coat with spittle. She reciprocated with a rude gesture. His face turned purple, and he stabbed at her furiously with his one finger. "You too, buddy," Mabel Marie said as she continued down New Hampshire Avenue. She dug in her handbag found a wad of Kleenex and dabbed her sleeve. She looked around as she crossed Constitution Avenue. The man stared at her. Mabel Marie kept on down the street. She wondered whether the Director was somehow mixed up in this nuttiness. He was the kind of man who would stoop as low as a Texas rattlesnake, Mabel Marie thought. Excerpt: As Mabel Marie bounced through the smoky doors of the LaSalle Building, a cicada landed in the uppermost region of her tall hair. And when I say tall hair, I mean Texas-sized hair with blond locks where the bees get lightheaded flying in and around the hive. A mute in a tattered coat and missing his fingers on his right hand, except his middle finger, pointed and sputtered at her head. He sprinkled Mabel Marie's blue suit coat with spittle. She reciprocated with a rude gesture. His face turned purple, and he stabbed at her furiously with his one finger. "You too, buddy," Mabel Marie said as she continued down New Hampshire Avenue. She dug in her handbag and found a wad of Kleenex and dabbed her sleeve. She looked around as she crossed Constitution. The man stared at her. Mabel Marie kept on down the street. She wondered whether the Director was somehow mixed up in this nuttiness. He was the kind of man who would stoop as low as a Texas rattlesnake, Mabel Marie thought.

1987 PEN/Discovery Prize Winner selected by Joyce Carol Oates. In the sizzling era of the New Edition, when icons like Prince and Michael Jackson reigned supreme, Hattiesburg, Mississippi was a picturesque, mostly crime-free town. But all that changed in the mid-1980s when the shadow of gangs and drugs descended upon its streets. Still, even in the midst of chaos, love can bloom. Meet Della, a young teenage girl whose heart becomes ensnared by a member of the infamous "Folks" gang, known as "Cheeseburger." However, Cheeseburger remains oblivious to Della's infatuation, while her schoolgirl innocence and boundless imagination lead her into a world of daydreams where they are madly in love. Yet, her imagined romance is as fickle as her emotions. On some days, she despises him, the gang, and the very ground they walk on, aligning herself with her mother's concerns. But, as she candidly puts it, "Then I saw Cheeseburger's arms and fell back in love with him." Embark on an emotional rollercoaster of unrequited love and hate as you follow Della's gripping journey. This poignant story, a 1987 PEN/Discovery Prize winner personally selected by the renowned Joyce Carol Oates, will immerse you in a world where love transcends the boundaries of circumstance and danger, ultimately revealing the profound impact it has on Della's life. Excerpt The week that I wasn't in love with Cheeseburger I called him and them other boys dogs, and Mama seemed happy with me. We talked about what a shame it was them thugs, from up north were comin' down south, bringin' that dope with 'em, and breakin' into people's houses. Everybody on the block was gettin' burglar bars and bad dogs. Hattiesburg was hirin' more police. It was just a shame, me and Mama agreed. Then I saw Cheeseburger's navel and fell back in love with him. And Mama started fussin' at me 'cause I was a girl and not a boy. She said I was drawin' them nigguhs to her fence like shit draws flies. My Mama said that to me. And no matter how much I looked like I was ignorin' those boys (I really was ignorin' ol' Polo Mack), she fussed more. Even when they didn't paint the moon and stars on her fence, she fussed. Please enjoy other stories included with this awarding winning piece.

Ebenezer Jenkins' Christmas in Chicago Explore the soul-stirring and humorously sharp reimagining of the timeless classic, 'A Christmas Carol,' through a lens that is both unique and satirical. Join the lively storytelling duo, Madd and Dog2020, as they narrate a version that is sure to captivate even those who are not typically drawn to the Christmas spirit. Step into the world of Ebenezer Jenkins, an unapologetic miser, and entrepreneur who manages the unconventional Glad Wrappings Funeral Home and Barbecue Joint. Here, irony is as abundant as the barbecue's flavor, offering you the chance to savor your uncle's renowned ribs in a posthumous celebration. Ebenezer Jenkins, a steadfast Christmas cynic and averse to charitable acts, finds himself entangled with an unlikely partner: a crafty individual known as the "Serial Nutcracker." This pint-sized accomplice is infamous for attempting to physically relieve men of their wallets, albeit with limitations due to his stature. Nonetheless, his mischievous exploits inadvertently earn him a notorious reputation and provide his targets with both discomfort and amusement. This twisted tale introduces a cast of eccentric characters and dark humor, offering a fresh and uproarious perspective on the beloved holiday story. Prepare to be entertained and to contemplate the true essence of the festive season. Excerpt: On Christmas Eve, snow, as delicate as lace panties from Victoria's Secret, graced Ebenezer's window. People, burdened with Christmas hams and bags of yams, stumbled along broken sidewalks. Some carried toys, lovingly purchased from the Wall of the Mart in China. Others indulged in cheap vodka and fruit punch, embarking on merry renditions of Christmas carols. Their melodies intertwined with snippets of old-time Gospel songs. Swing low, silent jingle bells, As Mary weeps, all ye faithful come, A rumpa dump rump, a rumpa dump come, Oh come, ye to precious lord, Taking my hand to Jerusalem, A rumpa dump rump, a rumpa dump come! "Dead cats!" Ebenezer shouted at the carolers outside. They dispersed, but a sudden thump and a loud yowl echoed at his window. When he peered out, he was met with the lifeless gaze of a Persian cat, frozen to the ice on his window.

Urban Tales are about us, at least some of us. They are about us being funny and about us loving, lusting, and sexing. Only us could have "Dozens" players in our Christmas story. Only us know how to tip over on the down-low. These stories are streetwise, but yet will make you think and won't shortchange you. These are long and short stories. They are gritty and heart touching. Characters speak in elegant voices and raw urban tongues. The raw truth can make you uncomfortable, and maybe make you cry. But the truth will never bore you. After you've read this book, feel free to check out the big books: Maura and Her Two Husbands, Minister Q, Ebenezer Jenkins' Christmas in Chicago, and much more to come.

From the Book That noise beat on my ears. A mad saxophone player filled the room with his insanity. My eyes got all crossed trying to keep up with the digital readout running across the clock's face like a flow of red water. I couldn't stand it anymore. That's when I noticed them. From the author: These poems and prose are meant to be a testimony to our honesty as humans. The poems might seem personal, but what is personal is also universal. I invite you to dive in and see my truth and find your story in the poems and stories. Rough Cuts seesaws between poignancy and humor. An elephant, the duckbill platypus, a plague of cicadas, as well as lust and longing rest between these electronic sheets. You'll laugh one minute and the next go, "hmm." 6 9 The world has secrets Behind secrets and Puppets ruled by puppets You think the game is sixty-nine But you're a dog, Dawg Chasing his rainbow tail. Round and round you go Until you wake too late. The catch is twenty-two Three strikes and you're out. # Happy My manhood rots in the garden of cabbage leaves. Where children once grew yellow fat drips and splatters my thighs. My hips are big as money bags and heavy with gold I am suffering. I am happy. # The poem Apocalypse from this book recently appeared on the blog site NEWVERSENEWS.

With hard work and good luck, David "Big Nose" Calloway navigates Houston's Jim Crow era and civil rights achievements to become a member of the once segregated Walnut Grove Country Club. There, he meets Jonathan Knapp a fellow businessman. Jonathan tries hard to befriend David. However, David remains aloof and distant. Will Jonathan's anger at being rejected send him on a quest for revenge and expose a secret both men share? Excerpt: The leg was good luck to David. It kept him out of the army during WWII. Army Doctor smiled at the big black shirtless boy thick as a chifferobe. Then he smiled at David's bulging crotch. "That nigger is packing a sack of walnuts there!" David stood with his pants around his ankles. The doctor nodded at his left leg big as a phone post. However, the doctor's smile vanished, when he looked below David's right knee at what looked like a gnarled piece of hickory. Still, the Old southerner steeped in a belief that Negroes were workhorses, made David walk and jump. He squeezed the good leg with his hand, massaged the good strong calf and then the weak one. He measured the leg from crotch to ankle, wrote down the numbers on a chart, and studied the chart marked with other men's numbers. He sized up David's withered leg next to a scrawny white boy's good leg and told himself he didn't see much of a difference. Get it Now!

You may think with a name like Jethro, our story is a simple tale of a country bumpkin visiting New York City. It’s deeper than that. There’s a restlessness in Jethro’s soul. Plus, he has the quirky habit of barking when he’s nervous. It starts with a low growl when he’s mildly agitated, to a ferocious bark when he feels endangered. Jethro gets fed up with his wife and her cousin after being cooped up in the cousin's tiny apartment. He came to New York to see things, he declares and steps out to explore the city on his own. As he rides the subway he growls under his breath to keep the creeps away (just imagine). He catches the attention of Toni a crossdresser recently released from the army. It becomes a wild weekend of sex and self-discovery until a dangerous encounter with a gang of boys sends Jethro back to the arms of his wife, Eartha Pearl. Is Jethro a changed man? Only time will tell. "Harvey captures the flavor of New York with the best of them." Excerpt: I say, “Now wait a minute, Jethro, you ain’t gonna have no cultural experiences stuck scared here on this stoop. Suppose Columbus had just sat on a stoop all his life. Just suppose. Shit. A man must take action!” While I sit debating, this big white dude in chains and leather walks toward me. Now, these chains ain’t dainty little things you get from Spiegel’s catalog. These chains come from the Navy yard. I mean these chains can lift submarines. He wears three around his neck, five on each wrist, and two on each ankle. Now the chains do not bother me. The fact that he has on funky raw uncured leather does not bother me. Even the glass eye--I hope it’s glass--dangling from his left earlobe on a chain does not bother me. What bothers me is when he turns in my direction, and grabs his grapefruit sized crotch and smiles—that’s what bothers ol’ Jethro here. I say, “Uh oh Jethro, somebody wants you to swing a certain way. And I don’t swing that way.” I wonder why he pick on me? So what if I do have on these black high top sneakers, shorts with Texas bluebonnets all over them, and a pink tee-shirt that says, “I BRAKE FOR MOONERS--that don’t mean I’m gay. Shoot. I’m just a colorful dude. Well okay if you want to count that time when I was in the eighth grade and me and Johnny Scardino grabbed each other’s rods behind the gym bleachers. I wouldn’t have gone back there with him, but he told me he had two and he would show me if I showed him mine. Okay, it tickled and I got a hard-on when he grabbed me and I grabbed him out of reflexes, but I haven’t seen Johnny since the eighth grade. I dreamed about him once, since I been married to Eartha Pearl. But I woke up and made love to Eartha real quick. So anyway I hang my head and growl softly at the man in leather. He must think I’m calling him to dinner ‘cause he moves a little closer. When I see him step, I bark louder. And not yap yap like a poodle either. I’m Doberman and Great Dane combined. I rattle nearby windows. New York people stare at me as they walk by. And they tell me you’re doing something when you can get a New Yorker to stare at you eye-level on the street. The dude slinks away like he’s carrying a tail between his legs. First appeared in Soulfires and Shade.

In this fictionalized account, Money Mississippi, notorious for the brutal murder of Emmett Till has had a one hundred and eighty-degree turn from its old ways. A mile from the infamous Bryant’s Grocery and Meat Market sits a big shiny blue Walmart along an avenue populated with fast food restaurants and a Starbucks. Young black men with pants sagging walk along the broad sidewalks holding their girlfriend’s hands. No one bats an eye if the girl is blue-eyed and blond. At times a pickup truck bearing confederate flag license plates will rev its engine, but the young seem unfazed. A prosperous black population lives along the banks of the Tallahatchie River. Their ranks culled from nearby military installations and new industry. Still, taboos exist, and people remember the old Money Mississippi. Jill a thirty-year-old white woman and Alvin, a seventeen-year-old black kid are having an affair. The relationship is as much about rebelling as it is about love. Jill enjoys rubbing her KKK grandfather’s nose in the tryst. Alvin like most young men has one thing on his mind. But he too is on a mission to resist his Grandfather’s teachings rooted in the old ways of Money. He sees Jill as a sexual conquest and to prove his grandfather wrong about white women and “light skin women.” However, Jill and Alvin are on opposite sides of the track. While Alvin comes from the more prosperous River Hill Estates, Jill lives in a housing project alongside a swampy tributary of the Tallahatchie River. Her only future is Walmart and the pills she takes for PTSD brought on by a traumatic incident that happened when she was in the army. Alvin goes off to college and leaves Jill pregnant with his child. He returns four years later with his bride-to-be and plans to take his child. What happens on his return will make you wonder if the spirit of Emmett lurks in the murky waters of the Tallahatchie. Excerpt: As Alvin walked along the river, he felt himself wise for a boy. In that brief summer escaping from murderous Chicago, he had been fed a healthy diet of grandfatherly advice on everything from blues to women. And it was the subject of women that had intrigued Alvin the most. He let the John Lee Hooker, BB King, Charles Johnson, Lead Belly, Muddy Waters, and Son House albums gather dust while he studied the white girls of Money. He had dated white girls in Chicago an act that got him in trouble with a local street gang in his Southside neighborhood. It had taken his book smarts along with his good looks to wow those northern girls. When he got off the bus at the depot in Money and looked around at the willows blowing in the breeze, he felt oddly at ease and imagined those willows as the arms and legs of girls bending and yielding to his enchanting northern accent and street edge. He would allow them to cast their spell first of course. His grandfather had said that was the gentlemanly thing to do. He loved the spells of white girls--the eyes that changed from blue to green from amber to black at the whim of the sun or even a cloudy sky.