Spreading the word about my “Treasure Hunt” with a lord!

by | Jul 31, 2017 | Contests, Summer contests, Treasure Hunt | 0 comments

Still looking for famous people to advertise for me. Today I thought to be smart and try someone who is much more likely to write something for me than Sherlock Holmes or Dracula.

ME: Hey Byron, will you write a poem for me with the five golden words to promote my “Treasure Hunt”?

BYRON: You’re an orator of such set trash of phrase.

ME: Trash? Isn’t that a bit crude? I write pulp fiction, if that’s what you mean.

BYRON: A fellow word crafter. Delightful! I will dedicate in honest simple verse a song to you then.

ME: You’re too kind. (Finally someone is going to help out with my advertising. This will be so great for my site stats, hihi.)

BYRON: It is pleasant to be deemed magnanimous,

The more so in obtaining our own ends.

ME: Well, yes, I’m fawning over you because I need this publicity, but I also like you. Childe Harolde’s Pilgrimage is very enjoyable. (Hold on, I haven’t read it since college. What was it about? I hope he doesn’t ask.)

BYRON: Happy maiden of the moral North!

Where all is virtue…

ME: Not all. And not lately

BYRON: …Where juries cast up what a wife is worth

By laying whate’er sum they please on.

The lover, who must pay a handsome price

Because it is a marketable vice.

ME: I have no idea what you’re saying. There’s no price put on a wife…women’s lives are hardly worth anything to some people.

BYRON: Here, my chaste Muse, a liberty I must take.

ME: What do you mean?

BYRON: There’s no great cause to quake…

ME: Are you saying that there is a small one?

BYRON: … As I have a high sense of Aristotle and the Rules, ‘t is fit to beg his pardon when I err a bit.

ME: Oh man, can you get on with that song. I’d rather you make it a short poem.

BYRON: Man’s a phenomenon, one knows not what,

And wonderful beyond all wondrous measure.

‘t is a pity, though, in their sublime world, that

Pleasure’s a sin, and sometimes sin’s a pleasure;

Few mortals know what end they would be at,

But whether glory, power, love, or treasure…

ME: A successful bookstore for me, I hope.

BYRON:…The path is through perplexing ways.

ME: Tell me about it.

BYRON: …And when the goal is gained, we die, you know…

ME: Um…

BYRON: What then? I do not know, no more do you.

And so, good night.

ME: Hold on. You’re leaving?

BYRON: Yes. I wish your fate may yield ye, when she chooses,

The fame you envy and the skill you need.

ME: Thanks a lot. I thought I already had skill. Hey… how about the poem?

But he’s gone.

I begin to realize that when it comes to advertising I’m probably on my own. Oh, well…

See you,

Misty