Arsenic and Glue Sticks #FridayFictioneers

Bless me Fictioneeers, it’s been two months since my last flash fiction. *sigh* I have been in Internet hell. I’ve had more trouble getting Internet in rural California than I did in rural Mexico. Huh?

Other excuses worth mentioning:
I’m basically an angst driven writer and I’m too chillaxed living at the lake house. It’s too nice outside to write inside. There are no interesting drug cartel stories around to fuel my “CIA agent meets a girl and a tequila bottle” novel, WIP.

I actually have no real excuse not to write so I’ve been designing a new food blog and cookbook proposal at (shameless promotion).

Anyway here’s my dark tale of writing turned warfare. My husband thinks the tale is too dark but he hasn’t met any of you writers who have struggled with getting published. Crazy happens.

Join us at Friday Fictioneers where Rochelle will give you 100 words to justify your actions.

Friday Fictioneers
Photo credit Claire Sheldon

Arsenic and Glue Sticks

by T. Delaplain

The thought was crazy of course, just more fiction spinning and frothing in her head. Her desk, once a sanctuary, was now a battle field of staple shrapnel, exploded paper wads and broken dreams. The last bomb lay amongst the ruins.

“We regret to inform you….”
Determined to plant her flag, she devised the final skirmish. No prisoners. She assembled the revised manuscript, slid it gingerly into the envelope and sealed it with the glue stick.
“Dear editor, I regret, nothing.”


41 thoughts on “Arsenic and Glue Sticks #FridayFictioneers

Add yours

  1. What I hate is the form letter rejections. I suppose they print them up by the thousands and their secretaries jiggle from maniacal chuckles as they stuff them into your pre-paid, self-addressed envelop. Try this approach with your next submission letter.

    Dear Loser,
    I regret to inform you that your company will not be publishing my novel. I hereby reject you. You will not granted access to view the manuscript let alone read it. That privilege is reserved for those with the foresight and common sense to recognize talent when they see it.
    Please do not continue to whine and beg for another chance. It only serves to make you appear more pitiful than you already are (if that’s possible).

    Best wishes on your next 10 books selling up to 5 copies each,
    T. Delaplain, Author

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Dear Tracey,

    Your husband obviously doesn’t realize what a dark bunch we can be, does he?
    I love last line. Really dark would’ve been if she’d sent a bomb along with the manuscript. Or did I miss something? Oh those rejections can sting.



    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hahahaha! Quite inspirational, Doc. I think it helps us all by saying, “We’ll get ’em next time!” And we usually do. It makes us all work harder, really.

    I laughed at your husband’s comment about us. I write a variety of things so I don’t get stuck in a rut — comedy, tragedy, suspense, romance, etc. No dark there (as far as I know). He can come read my stuff if he likes — I’m only HALF-crazy (though, Cousin Shelley, a.k.a.the Queen, would disagree — but she KNOWS me). 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ahhh … to be bold and say our truth. Loved the way you took the prompt. An insight all writers have but never talk about for fear of being outed. I enjoyed your food blog too. No same in letting us know. How would we find you ???
    Isadora 😎


  5. In India, they don’t sell envelopes with glue on them because the moisture of monsoon makes them all stick shut. We all have to use glue sticks. I don’t want to find out what it would take to mail a manuscript from India to the U.S. or England. With the insecurity of the mail, it might not even reach its destination. Good writing, Tracey. 🙂 — Suzanne

    Liked by 1 person

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