Ernest Slyman grew up in Bristol, TN-VA. He now lives in Queens, NY. He is an award winning poet, playwright, fiction writer and humorist. He has been widely published in literary journals and anthologies, from The Bedford Introduction To Literature, The Laurel Review, The Lyric, South and West, Voices International and The New York Times. He is wishful that his work exhibits a proper dose of hyperbole. A sense of ridicule, irony, and wryness and misadventures in wild metaphors, paradox, symbols, free associations, non-sequiturs, and sense of the ridiculous.
They came to a funeral of the man they respected most, admired like a giant. His name was Jack Trayer.
When he died it was like they'd been deserted at birth. As they approached their hometown the streets and the houses spoke mysteriously of them. Who were they? Why had they come back to Bristol?
Humorous tales of a small southern town called Bristol. Fables of farmlife and country music. Writing influenced by Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll. Guitars that feud with fiddles. Children who turn into pigs. Church bells that talk. Cornbread that tells the truth. Butter that sings like Hank Williams.
I cannot stop reading books. There is a book among my collection that I love the most. A 1938 deluxe boxed edition, gold-trimmed with brazed lettering on the front and a blue velvet ribbon for a bookmark stitched to the spine.
The book once belonged to my father. Indeed, it was one of his favorite books. He presented it to me on my eleventh birthday. A memento of my childhood.