Circulogian Publishing & Services Ltd

02/17/2016

A free course covering marketing using the internet-http://www.circulogian.com/How%20Do%20I%20Get%20More%20Customers_1.pdf

02/15/2016

Really... Would like an illustrator to work with... Stop me before I cartoon more!

02/13/2016

We are in search of an illustrator for several children's stories.

12/28/2015

http://bookstore.thecirculogian.com/vanita%20bodke.html A new story for young ladies... With a bit of the game of 'cricket.'

11/29/2015

Book cover design in progress

11/18/2015

11/12/2015

New old rewritten short: Opinions? Unreasonable
A Love Story

Their story begins in the middle:

“Who could reason with you?” Alice complains as she storms out the door.

Brent fought the impulse to lash out. His parents had always advised him to stick to the safe goal of staying “comfortable,” a middle class success. From his point of view a divorce or a scene, public or not just would not fit that model.

Alice stands outside leaning against the screen door and smoking a cigarette. Wisdom told Brent that attacking the smoking was not to his advantage.

But society told him it was a filthy habit.

“I wish you wouldn't do that right outside the door.”

“I wish you would shut up about it and leave me alone.” She snaps back.

He rises from the table. He swings the cast iron skillet from stove to sink with an abrupt clank. From the corner of his eye he can see he had made her jump slightly. He smiles a slightly evil grin knowing he had contacted a nerve without being open to accusation. He continues to clean as noisily as possible.

“Do you have to do that now?” Alice's voice floats in slightly pained and petulant from the porch.

“Do what?” He asks as innocently as he can muster. The door opens and she steps into the small kitchen. She stands one hip cocked to the side – preparing for battle, if needed. The linoleum would curl on its own if it were not tacked firmly into place. Anger radiates from her thin frame. The cotton dress ripples lightly in the slight breeze coming through the small house.

Brent plucks the drain strainer from the sink and with seemingly single-minded intent, he bangs it against the plastic trash can. Again noisy, necessary to get every bit of the vegetation and other mysterious detritus out and just irritating enough to set her teeth on edge. Brent is noisily running scalding water into the sink. Alice stands and stares looking furious and tongue tied at the same time.

Brent seems smugly pleased with himself.

She starts to speak:
“Now don't you go and stick that cast iron into the water, a little scrape and wipe out but if you ruin my seasoning of that pan, I will have to hurt you!”

He turns the water on, carefully spattering the counter while rinsing the wok. He looks back surreptitiously for just a moment to see if he is getting to her.

“Don't pick at me as if I am stupid.” Brent bristles.

“If the shoe fits...” she snaps back, carefully hiding a glimpse of a grin.

“I've been cleaning cast iron since high school,” he retorts.

“I bet you're tired!” she snaps back but her eyes are now smiling.

“Don't change the subject, I hate when you do that.” Brent protests, missing the potential olive branch while busily washing a dish. Washing another dish. The room filled again with clattering clashing tableware. Pots and pans lay on the counter – pre-washed and glistening with water.

“You know I wash glasses separately,” she hisses between splashes clangs and crashes on her way back out to the porch; “and first.” floats back in through the screen.

Brent thought:
'The man who invents a sarcasm proof, self slamming screen door will eventually rule the financial world.'

Alice stirs out on the porch. A wreath of smoke around her. Her dress pressing against the screen, dirt and screen filtered cotton into an impressionists rendering of a clothed woman's bottom.

Brent is distracted. Even just that image – slender back fading up away from twinned impressions of feminine mystery ameliorate the anger. Reminders that he had found some good in Alice, that there had been some good times, there could be future. These thoughts flit in and out of his mind. The desire to have her recognize her wrongness losing to a more basic motivation.

***
Alice picks up the phone, Brent has gone out. Alice is a bit disheveled but looks happy.

The apron is on the floor and the napkins scattered and the salt cellar is on its side and gently rocking from side to side.

“Cindy, I didn't believe it but it worked a charm! Your advice was perfect. Not only did I irritate him into cleaning the kitchen to upset me...”

At this point you can hear faint laughter from the other side of the phone conversation, now echoed by Alice.

“No, even better.” Alice says into the handset.

The phone makes an inaudible guess.

“No, even better.” Alice says, laughing.

The phone makes another inaudible shot at it. “No, Maybe a little worse than that.” Alice says.

“I'll tell you. I got make up s*x on the kitchen table.”

11/11/2015

New childrens story - If you can recognize puns and still know how to giggle... Open to review, opinions comments:

Dale and Lavender go on Vacation

One day Dale the Dalmatian opened his mail.
Well, of course dogs can get mail. At least in my stories they can.
When he opened the envelope, he found that he had won tickets for two to visit the Amazon rain-forest.
Dale was excited. He had never been to South America and he wondered if he would have another adventure.
Because he had two tickets he called his best friend Lavender Grapefizz to see if she would join him.
Well, Lavender shrieked. She was so excited.
She ran around the room yapping:
“We're going on vacation, we're going on vacation!”
She was so loud that Dale covered his ears.
After she calmed down and stopped running in circles and jumping up onto the couch and back down on the floor and back up onto the couch, Dale took his paws off his ears.
"How do we get there?
"When do we leave?
"Do I have time to pack?
"Should I bring my nice collar?
"How do we get there, Dale?"
Dale didn't know. All the questions were making him dizzy and Lavender bouncing from couch to floor and then running around him to jump on the couch again was making him dizzy.
So the pair went to Mrs. WC Barfington, the old long haired white cat who runs the town's small travel agency.
Mrs. Barfington was sleeping in a sewing basket full of yarn and knitting when they got there.
She stretched and yawned and looked at Dale's letter.
"Why, it is all right here in your paperwork, Dale. You will travel by boat to the big city..."
"Oh boy, Oh Boy! We get to ride on a boat." Lavender interrupted.
She was beginning to shake with excitement.
"From there you get to ride on an airplane all the way to South America and they have guides to meet you to take you to the rain forest."
"Oh boy, Oh boy! OH! Boy!!" Lavender was shaking now. "We get an airplane ride too!"
She suddenly stopped.
"Uhh, Dale?" She asked: "What exactly is an airplane?"
Dale said, "An airplane is like a tube with seats inside and even a bathroom inside and wings and it doesn't have to flap them like a bird. It has an engine and it goes really, really fast."
Lavender looked at him disbelievingly. "No, Dale. Really? What is an airplane?"
Dale ran around the room yapping. "It is true, It is true!" and when Mrs. Barfington said so too, Lavender finally believed him.
Once they got onto the plane Lavender looked around and found the airplane was pretty much what Dale had described. So, she curled up and went to sleep.
When they landed- a sort of bumpy and noisy activity- they fought through the crowds,and were met by three tough looking iguanas. These are a greenish lizard and these three looked very very mean!
“A kidnapping attempt,” said Dale, “Well a dognapping really but dogs napping give me the idea of sleeping dogs.”
The travelers snapped and bit the Iguana team's tails.
Fortunately their guides Simon the Boxer and Horatio the Bloodhound saw all of this happening and pressed a cab into service to get Dale and Lavender away. Dale had a funny thought about “pressing cabs,” then he realized that it was using a cab not trying to iron it. They left in the tiny bright blue cab but the iguanas jumped into a much bigger car. Dale thought 'A car chasing dogs. Now that is new.'

The Car Chase and Into the Jungle

The cars went very very quickly curving around curves, even going up on two wheels to get away. Dale and Lavender would have been sliding across the back seat but the big bloodhound took up so much space that they felt like sardines. “Hmmm...” thought Dale “This makes me hungry! I want Iguana tail soup!”
They dodged into the jungle and the bigger car got stuck on the road. And it was sideways! The cab stopped and in a daring rescue by Simon, who got out and shouted at the iguanas that his passengers all wanted to try iguana tail soup! He flashed his big boxer teeth and the iguanas rushed to push their car back onto the road then they gave up and ran away.
Simon led the dogs into the jungle, Saying:
“There are many exciting things to see in the jungle.
“There are so-so many exciting things...”
Dale wondered if all the excitement would be so-so in which case he would rather have a nap.
Simon continued, “Like... like the dweaded Dwagon boy. He is a proper dragon but just a boy. He is only 900 years old. He has smoke and fire coming out of his nose. He is so mean he once...” Horatio shuddered. Lavender sat up with her poodle puffs of fur standing on end... Even Dale stopped thinking about the nap, he had been thinking about.
“Once he got so mad that burned the end of his tongue off. He gave himself a speech impediment, so he lisps. Don't make fun of him!” Simon went on. “He expects everyone to lisp so that he feels normal. But he is really just like himself.”
Horatio took over, “But, but, but - He always wears a top hat and carries a cane. He uses the cane to WHOP people on the head.”
Dale interrupted, “If he has three butts which one do I sniff first?”
Lavender broke in: “No Dale! Not three butts, he just stuttered a bit. Its one of those speech 'Ipedim-what cha callits. That we are not supposed to make fun of.'” She beamed like a proud purple puppy lighthouse and looked happy because she understood the message before Dale, even if it was the first time ever.
Horatio finally got the attention of the pups. He said:
“Finally there is the most dangerous creature in the rain forest.
“If being chased by lisping dragons who wear top hats and play the violin is not enough, there is the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Cleveland.
“It will eat anything. It eats people's mothers, your bed, a potted plant or anything it can find. It is so mean it will even eat McDonalds... Not the food, the whole restaurant!”
Dale looked interested again. One thing was certain, the one thing he knew everything about was eating. He drifted off thinking about bean soup.
The boxer led them on into the rain forest.
They went around the Dwagon's secret hideout. It wasn't a very good hideout because violin noise and the spouts of fire alerted anyone who was listening and anyone who had their eyes open.
Dale thought 'Hmmm, Do you think the moral of this story is going to be - 'Don't be mean to people with speech impediments or Keep your eyes and ears open? Or maybe just iguanas can be kinda stupid?'
Simon led them to a clearing. There was huge roaring and thrashing coming from the center. A small shiny creature was romping around and yelling things like:
“Rowrbaz! Grrrr! Snorful,snoreful Rowr!”
Lavender was fascinated and immediately rushed out saying: “Oooh, pretty!”
The bugblatter beast paused. It sniffed the air and perked up little shiny ears, ears that twinkled like white diamonds,but red and blue and lavender and green. Lavender pounced on its back. It roared in delight! You could tell it was delighted by finding something new to eat. It spun around in circles.
Lavender shouted “Wheee!”
Dale gulped as the beast roared! The roar seemed to be partly desperation and partly hunger.
Lavender looked shocked!
Simon shouted “Cover your eyes!”
Lavender flew from its back. Swish, she went through the air, thump she landed in the short grass. The beast continued to spin looking for her.
It spotted her and roared romping toward her. Flomp, Flomp, Flomp! It was ready to scomp her up as a snack!
Lavender squeaked and covered her eyes.
The beast stopped. It looked puzzled. It sniffed. It looked around. It walked back to where it had been. Lavender moved one paw and peeked.
The beast jumped around to face the terrified pup. Lavender slammed her paw back over her eye. The beast sat down and made a mewing sound. It looked so sad.
Horatio knew it was time to put his famous nose to work. He put his floppy ears over his eyes. He sniffed the ground and with his eyes tightly shut and his ears covering them he made his way to the frightened Lavender. He romped back to the other dogs carefully not looking but navigating only using his famous nose.
“When I told you about the beast I forgot to mention how stupid it is. It thinks that if you can't see it, it can't see you.” said Simon.
Dale thought “What kind of moral is 'Keep your eyes and ears open, except when there is a bugblatter beast around?'”
Lavender said “I think the moral is 'Don't be a mean iguana.'”

11/05/2015

A high quality author, not one of ours but well deserving of props! Boyd Miles.

The yellow light filtered through the shabby red curtains casting a dirty orange glow. The colour didn’t suit the faded green wallpaper. The upper edges of the wallpaper were peeling away, exposing the black mold on the plaster. She had told him to wipe the walls with vinegar before they put up the…

11/02/2015

You write because you are a giant, tied down with strings of cotton lint. You made or agreed to those strings and said where you would lie. (a paraphrase from one of my favorite authors.) You write because you recognize that a life without creating is slavery to unthinking and unappreciative forces. I once intended to write to achieve a step beyond, to achieve immortality. I have decided that I prefer to achieve immortality by living forever. If your friends are so happy in their slavery that amusing cats are all that they can do, you write a story about awakening in a dung beetle's body and rolling its little ball uphill in some Sisyphean nightmare all the while hoping against hope to elevate them.