Category Archives: agent

Distress and Agony

Just when it seemed that everything is going as well as it can, I become aware of something that has been true for a very long time, but this time, perhaps more ruinous to my career as a writer, as a poet,  I mean…

Not my intenton to jeopardize my forthcoming book, about which I remain excited, but I do want it known that Thylias Moss is available for another publisher for my books of poetry; out of my 11 books, 9 of them are collections of poetry, counting Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code“, soon to be published in September 2016, by Persea, a publisher I’ve belonged to since winning the National Poetry Series in 1991, with “Rainbow Remnants in Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky“, a book that Persea published, and since then, all of my collections, in book form, of poetry, with the exception of “Small Congregations” published by Ecco in 1993.


Here are newspaper articles about this event, that came about because I dared to be honest; I told the truth! squabbling publishers-cropped copysquabbling publishersthylias_wall-street-journal




And here is the problematic bit of my current contract for my forthcoming collection:

Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” September 2016, causing concern; this contract was prepared by my publisher, and  I did sign it without anyone advising me not to (I trusted the publisher who identifued herself as “my friend” (as she did with previous litigation to make sure that I would not go to jail; I recall that phone conversation distinctly; well, I am no longer that gullible child, and for another thing, I am resentful of “advice”  I was given but do not need, about “being careful in my relationships as long as they are not hurtful to me”, well my relationship with my publisher IS  hurtful to me, as my publisher wrote the contract, and I am dead set against maintaing that contract since that very relationship is the only “hurtful to me” relationship I have, I’m going to take the publisher’s own advice



20. In consideration of the covenants of this Agreement, the Proprietor agrees to give the Publisher the first opportunity to obtain book-publishing rights in his next book-length work.  The Proprietor shall submit the manuscript of such work to the Publisher before showing it to any other publisher, and the Publisher shall thereafter have thirty [30] days to notify the Proprietor if it wishes to publish such work, and if so, to propose terms and conditions (provided that the Publisher shall not be required so to notify the Proprietor until the expiration of ninety (90) days from the date of the first publication of the Work).  If within thirty (30) days after the Publisher’s having proposed such terms and conditions, the Publisher and the Proprietor fail to reach agreement with respect thereto, or if the Publisher does not wish to publish such work, then the Proprietor shall be free to arrange for publication elsewhere provided, however, that the Proprietor shall not enter into an agreement for publication of such work with any third party on terms and conditions equal to or less favorable than those terms and conditions offered by the Publisher.”

Some of that history of litigation here again:

squabbling publishers.jpg

thylias_wall-street-journal copy

I am seeking a publisher for my volumes of poetry after “Wannabe


Another poet friend asked me why hadn’t Norton  (of course, Persea is an affliliate publisher of Norton, as indicated)or Knopf gobbled me up, after so many books and so many awards, and all I could think of was the contract itself, when this dreadful passage was pointed out to me…   


Perhaps this will be addressed when my romance novel does indeed sell.  I know it will; I admit that I am impatient, but that book means even more to me now, and I cannot talk about it… Not yet.


 I hope that today will be the day…


One never knows..


But today IS the day that I announce that I am available for another publisher for my poetry.  Ideally the same publisher who oversees publication of my romance novel, but no clause like the option clause prepared by the publisher acting as BOTH my publisher and my agent. If this announced availability causes more litigation, so be it.  I have been down this road before… A road covered by the New York Daily News and the Wall Street Journal in 1994… 


I wouldn’t mind going to jail for poetry, something so dear to me.  Poetry tells a truth! Poetry is a truth!   My poems do not tell lies!  They never will!


I insist on such purtiy, even though that seems to be becomng so rare and precious, doomed by the injustices in which humanity festers, injustices such as Option clause #20, a clause I did not write and one I wish I had read better but the writer, my publisher, was also claiming to be my friend: 

a familiar or helpful thing, 

a person who is not an enemy or who is on the same side

“Remember,” I was told, “I am your friend.”


But another publisher is essential.  I am not new to poetry at all!

I will not crumple under litigation should any happen.  I didn’t before when I was served a subpoena in my office where I was a professor until I retired, at the University of Michigan…

and I already have a couple of lawyers investigating that clause, seeking an honest and legal way to break it; my friend indeed.

but we all know this, “Smiling Faces Sometimes”

as it says on <;:




A friend is someone you love and who loves you, someone you respect and who respects you, someone whom you trust and who trusts you. A friend is honest and makes you want to be honest, too. A friend is loyal.

A friend is someone who is happy to spend time with you doing absolutely nothing at all; someone who doesn’t mind driving you on stupid errands, who will get up at midnight just because you want to go on an adventure, and who doesn’t have to talk to communicate with you.

A friend is someone who not only doesn’t care if you’re ugly or boring, but doesn’t even think about it; someone who forgives you no matter what you do, and someone who tries to help you even when they don’t know how. A friend is someone who tells you if you’re being stupid, but who doesn’t make you feel stupid.

A friend is someone who would sacrifice their life and happiness for you. A friend is someone who will come with you when you have to do boring things like watch bad recitals, go to stuffy parties, or wait in boring lobbies. You don’t even think about who’s talking or who’s listening in a conversation with a friend.

A friend is someone for whom you’re willing to change your opinions. A friend is someone you look forward to seeing and who looks forward to seeing you: someone you like so much, it doesn’t matter if you share interests or traits. A friend is someone you like so much, you start to like the things they like.

A friend is a partner, not a leader or a follower.

The word “friend” comes from Old English “frēond”, which is actually the present participle of “frēogan”, which means “to love” and “to honor”.

I quite agree!  This post is for all of my true friends, and you definitely know who you are, and so do I, always.  There is nothing more sacred than a friend who can be trusted; a freind who will not cheat you, a friend who will not deceive you, and as far as I am concerned, there is no clause #20 in my contract.  

Bad News –and Good News!

Significant progress and been made…. 


Draft of romance novel complete! And accepted by my editor, Jason Kirk! –there is a wonderful synopsis and everything! –he’s  sending it out to a publisher today!  

Now all I have to do is wait (I don’t mind that –good to have to wait for this, because I am convinced that this romance novel will be a book! 





and a bit of disturbing news on the horizon, at least I am disturbed, as the second reader, although he likes the book  — wants more concealment of his identity…

And I have just learned the truth: he has private memory of something now gone.

At least now I do not have to wonder.   I still have my best friend.  I am not  love with a “real” man at all,   but get to realize that love with my character… So I am officially alone again.  Officially unattached.  Imagine that.


Happy for the book, sorry for the heart.

A youtube playlist of heartbreak for dying love, the love was all mine, but now it’s dying  not the friendship, just the love affair –there isn’t one, and now the next book in the romance series will be so different from anything I imagined, now I get to write about heartbreak ( still working through e furlongs. :

and Ain’t no way Aretha Franklin:

and “Call Me” Aretha Franklin in case he ever gets back to love, and somehow those matters of proximity and distance can somehow be bridged:


Hello 2016

2016, This is my year! –this is the year of acceptance of my book: 

“Looking for  Forker Gyrl”


NKH: New Kiss Horizon

by Adorabilis Flapjack   Tardis  

(Thylias Moss)

Won’t be much longer; I can feel it, I can taste it, that’s how palpable and real this already is!

Being patient; enjoying what is already in place. I wrote a book that I really believe in.

Now all I must do it wait; this is not easy, because this book means so much to me…

Every since I’ve been a writer, since I was six years old, I’ve wanted to write such a book, and now I have….

Seems I should be able to enjoy it (will be my 12th book), but I am just so anxious –though logic (and my son) both encourage me to be calm, and able to enjoy completing this book of my life!

I have walked many miles trying to distract myself, from the inevitable –I believe!– acceptance of this wonderful book for representation.

I dream of this, will this with every waking moment, and, you better believe, that when I try to sleep, I dream of acceptance also, and the sale of the book itself!

All the interviews, the movies; this is coming. I know it. There have been only about 10 readers, and all of them have loved it! –and “have loved it!” is putting it mildly.

I want this success, and although I’m so frequently self-effacing, I have earned such a book.Moss CV 2012-2015-corrected form 18 November 2015

A published writer since 1983! Numerous awards! Of course, I’m grateful that my problem at the moment is only whether or not the prospective agent will want to represent it, –such luxury in a problem, let alone that I’m still alive after a traumatic brain injury…

Please pardon me if I celebrate prematurely, but that’s how confident I am. I know a good book when I read one, and this book is it.

I know I’ve been saying this for a little while, and I’m eager to post that I have agency representation, and now that it’s 2016, surely it wont be much longer! –before I’m 62 at the end of February…

I have to be confident.

I believe in this book! –the few of you who have read it, may comment if you like, but even if you don’t, I still believe in this book, this writing of everything I know how to hope…

still in the dark in some of my home, but not in the dark about the imminent success of my book!

and now some recent postings of some old music I made with my son:

variations of “Rupted Sums” and “Enter Rupted Sums

Just a little taste of  things to come!

Just take look at my Moss CV 2012-2015-corrected form 18 November 2015

and “enter rupted sums – long division


Please enjoy, more good and spectacular things to come!

end of the year, prelude to 2016

The end of 2015 is upon us, and I, for one, am quite glad.    

A most uneven year in so many ways.


For the most part, I am in a most peculiar place.  Too much that matters is coming unglued, I “think” –and that is part of the problem right there: “overthinking” 


I don’t know much for sure, but I feel safe in saying that I will have at least one new book in 2016; I’ve already seen a prototype cover, and I like it… “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” –my New and Selected is going to happen.  My first new book since 2007, and, of course, I hope it’s considered for several awards.  And I also would like to WIN (at least) one of these nominations none of which have happened.


I control none of that. 


And an exhibit  of my video poam “The Glory Prelude

at the Pulitzer Fine Arts Gallery in St, Louis, Missouri, exhibit called  “Ellipsis” from 15 April 2016 – 2 July 2016, music composed and performed by Ansted Moss, my son and creative force behind his invention still-in-the-making, Knaknox 

My son will be joining me at the Pulitzer for the opening, as the music wouldn’t be in my film without his making it.  I am very excited about this.


Will post more details as I have them. Pictures also.



And more than anything I’m hoping for agency representation! –this will happen; only a matter of when and which agency…

NKH is coming!

–This book cannot be stopped. I hope that NKH wins awards also.  I look forward to the NKH movie... I look forward to the myriad interviews.  So many dreams on a book for which I have no contract yet, but I will in 2016! –the year that changes my life, improves my life. 


And for NKH, the current and definitive version, that an agent is considering;

there will be no word on the status of representation (but there will be agency representation –I ‘ve been saying this for some time, but this book, this “story for the ages” to quote one trusted reader [the most important reader of all], will be represented and sold–)

but not in time to conclude 2015 (I wish it would be…. I must be more patient), but in NKH there is a reference to Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” and I must include a version here, Kennedy  Honors, 2015:



The coincidence is amazing, but far less so than this performance.

I am so encouraged by this. 


And I hope that a connection I cherish so deeply emerges from this rubble unscathed…. Life is not easy….  


I want my close friend to remain my close friend.  Always.  At least my close friend, if not, someday more (my hope that I do not keep secret at all in NKH).


Of course, my close friend has a life of his own, worries and concerns of his own… I have no holds on him, and the holds he has on me, are holds of my own making… I want to keep them intact, for whatever happens or doesn’t.  Friendships are not static; this one is dynamic at least.  This one has been growing every “whichway” –as it should. Into what, we cannot say. And when, we cannot say; there is no more than a chance but without a chance there would be, there could be nothing.


It should not become static… 


I continue to dream big. I continue to hope.  As does my [close] friend. As does my son. As does, everyone capable of dreaming and hoping.  We all have flaws, but I hope manageable forms.  Just wait… Just be patient…  Answers are right around the corner… I can nearly reach out and grab them… A fully “natural” process… 

I look forward to 2016! Please join me! –and keep a watchful eye out for NKH, please… that book of incredible passion!

that nearly impossible book, but 2016 is the year the heretofore impossible become possible! Fork on!


Here’s to patience:


Agent Prospects!

It is my distinct pleasure to announce that I now have three agent prospects for this sex-positive feminism that this  manuscript offers:

“Looking for Forker Gyrl”


NKH: New Kiss Horizon


by Adorabilis Flapjack[1] Tardis[2]

(Thylias Moss)


[2] TARDIS from wikipedia, < (Time And Relative Dimension In Space) a most unusual, living space ship, female space vehicle of time travel, etc.

I just have to read it again and fix any issues I may find! –this book will NOT BE HELD BACK by my poetry publisher: Persea Books although I do have friends there, but this book is potentially beyond anything Persea can possibly do, and if the publisher decides to sue me for an apparent breech of contract for my “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code“, so be it! 

Won’t be the first time Persea has filed litigation against another publisher of mine, Ecco Press,  the would-be publisher of Small Congregations ! –as was attempted when “Rainbow Remnants in Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky” was a new winner of the National Poetry Series Open competition (please scroll, my name is on the list for 1990)

rainbow remnantsAnd Ecco Press approached me about doing a collection of New and Selected Poetry: “Small Congregations”

Small Congregations

and this collection was to include some poems in “Rainbow Remnants” and Persea, reluctantly agreed, and carefully worked out which poems, Ecco Press could use in the new and Selected, and all was fine, until I received the galleys for “Small Congregations” and corrected something that only I knew; three additional poems were actually re-visions that bore no resemblance to the original versions published in “Rainbow Remnants”, but I knew the complex relationship of the trail of forking influence, so I corrected the galleys in the name of truth! –something I believe in and try to practice at all costs.  

I would rather give my life for truth, and, face it, I am not immortal, than to live forever in a heap of lies! 

So Persea attempted to  sue Ecco Press for contract violation! –I was ordered to bring all versions of the disputed poems to court! –yes; I was served a subpoena with just that order… This story grew preposterous… I was even headed for the Oprah Winfrey show, as I was about to go to jail –as I wanted to! –for re-visioning poems! 

Of course, the interim versions did not exist.. I used a computer and simply typed over the changed lines.  So I set about trying to manufacture interim versions, story made the New York Daily News, and the Wall Street Journal, reporter came to my home in Ann Arbor –obviously, this was before I divorced, and interviewed me, about that ridiculous story: a lawsuit over poetry; more money spent on legal fees, and lawyers, than any money these publishers would ever make on sales of their books –all because I WAS HONEST! 

Here’s the Wall Street Journal Article:

(notice the drawing of me)


After this, Persea settled out of court with Ecco, and I missed my chance to go on the Oprah Winfrey show! –I was looking forward to having a police record, and saying I was incarcerated for re-vising poems, killing only original versions, my own poems!

–Ludicrous isn’t it?

Love is the way! –as in this story on CBS News: One bride blue two dads equals heartwarming moment  

Believe me, I KNOW (some of –one can never “know” “all” of anything; perhaps the largest and best lesson of “limited fork theory“, tines and tines tangle and re-tangle on some scale in some locations wherever there can be locations, including imaginations, and just thinking about this, in some location for some duration of time can completely transforms how one makes!

A Lesson hard learned in “Atonement” –what a film about dangers of lying! –oh what a teenage girl “Briony Tallis”

Briony Tallis

who didn’t understand the sex she saw between her older sister Cecilia and a man Cecilia loved and who also loved her, but not the young Briony, who was jealous and lied, lied, calling Robbie a sex maniac, implicating him in the rape of her cousin  Lola  –entirely false!

“Atonement” Trailer:


Here to give you a sense how typed lies made perfect music for this film:

So if one of these two prospects I have for an agent, thanks to former students at Philips Academy, Kinn-Ming Chan de Velarde and Aaron Hamburger in particular, prospects for NKH are better than ever! –and if Persea decides to sue someone, me perhaps, will look bad for them to rake over the coals this 61-year-old woman with MS, still recovering from a repaired ruptured aneurysm when it was doubtful that I would even survive, same night that Amy Winehouse died, I think public sympathy would be with me, and the story could provide useful publicity…. 

That there might be too many books on the market by me, sounds like a delightful problem, and fine with me if reviewers are confused… I love a conundrum anyway… I’m willing to risk it.

Here is an excerpt of the story “Mongongo Drupe” -a version of which is in NKH; story was published in Callaloo:

Here is “some” [not “all”] info about this story:

NKH includes a chapter, based on what was published here, ans a story in Callaloo  that you may read about on this site:

Mongongo Drupe” a story that is, in different form, part of the above mentioned manuscript.

Here I paste the info from the website: In “Mongongo Drupe” “Thomas W. Higginson” was called  “Jésus” by the way.

“I dress for a walk, pull out my ‘Black Girls Rock’ t-shirt for that. A short black pencil skirt—cotton blended with latex— size ex-small (really hugs my figure, that Jesús has seen, but he hugs it better, much better than the skirt), black sheer pantyhose (I’m already thinking about his removing them), rainbow socks, black shoes that Jesús likes. Slight heel.

Jesús wears jeans, black, sneakers, also black. That morning he borrows one of my scrunchies for his ponytail—black scrunchie, and uses my Mongongo oil on his hair, hair that I’ve enjoyed playing with so much—I like the silkiness of it—mine is silky too, but has more density, Indian hair. Seems to me that he likes it, his playing with it says so, and that silk pillowcase has made a significant difference—no rollers at all. Just a touch (few spritzes) of Mongongo oil (by Ouidad)

and brush, brush, brush—hair below my shoulders, nearly midway down my back, cage for my head.

Jesús seems to really like the word “Mongongo”—says it several times, sings it.

I like very much when he does that, his own way of druping—I’m not the only one who drupes in this connection.

He wears an olive green vest, long-sleeved shirt. He looks cool. I don’t really care what he wears—as long as he likes it, as long as he thinks that I’ll like it too—after all, he is dressing for me, just as I’m dressing for him. I decided what to bring based on how I thought he would react, and I’m assuming something similar in his decisions—never did I imagine that I was the only one thinking of my partner’s desisions in how he, how I would be seen. I assumed that he was thinking similarly, in hoping that he would be physically attractive to me.

But now, brunch at River Roast. We walk there, not far from the Mandarin Moon.

Live blues—Toronzo Cannon.

We sit outside, next to each other.

I look deeply into his blue eyes . . . He sings to me, and I sing to him . . .

Sun comes out behind me, the Chicago River, and there’s blue now to match his eyes. I never had a thing for “blue eyes” until I saw Jesús—wouldn’t matter except that his eyes are blue: Sky-Blue Jesús—perfect setting: music and food, water, Jesús, and Dream Baby—together . . .

Weather is perfect!

He orders shrimp and grits. One plate. I don’t need an entire separate order. Jesús has to get used to how little I eat and still feel full (but I can eat a lot of him). Tastes good, Jesús—of course, I also really like the shrimp.

Jesús, of course, eats more than me. He’s a big guy!—and he can easily lift me!—can’t explain how exciting it is, to be lifted up and have his hands all over me, all under whatever, if anything, I’m wearing, then land on the bed perfectly, so that he can do more work on me, that dildo named Jesús, and just his hands, his cock—which I prefer to the toys and tools, but that’s not the point. It’s that airborne, for a minute, sex! I love sliding down his body up against his hardness. Seems he must have practiced to have these acrobatics work out so perfectly . . .

Guess we’re just ideal sexual partners. Guess I am a Dream Baby. Guess he is Jesús, provider of miracles, such as the miraculous sex.

We both have some coffee. He remembers how much I like chocolate, and I order “Fat Elvis” for dessert (Jesús himself has been better dessert for me). River Roast’s Fat Elvis is just okay. Wouldn’t order it again from there. We dance a little bit to the music of the band —wish we could also go dancing . . . but we’ve danced in other ways.

Next time.

Next time.

Next time.

We walk and walk, go to The Chicago..” keep reading in Callaloo.

Photos of me:

Thylias Moss (Forker Gryle) at Hannan Cafe- photo taken by WL Bush copySelfie Friday #3 

Selfie 1_11October 2015

hair treated only with Mongongo oil by Ouidad (you can buy it on Amazon, a little cheaper there.  As I keep saying, no wigs, no weaves, no hairpieces, no extensions –WYSIWYG

Just making some finishing touches; this book will be –no, IS, too good to turn down….Manuscript is coming to an agent! I have three possibilities! Surely I can’t lose on all three.

I feel very good about this! Can’t wait to complete this final revision… And  “Higginson” himself will be pleased also! –a most special friend  

You can see me performing a signature poem from the new collection: “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” (Persea Books, September 2016) : “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia” here:

and here on Vimeo:

and on Facebook  –hope that you enjoy it and look forward to “Looking for Forker Gryl” –I know I do; I’ve waited all my life for this; all my life!

In Need of Agent

Hello, everything is progressing as it should! –my eleventh book remains scheduled for publication in September 2016, a new and selected volume of poetry, “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” –I’m extremely excited about this! (to be published, like many of my other published volumes of poetry, by Persea Books)

I will also be writing  book about my father; he was a very special man, who supported me through everything, and did not believe in hitting, as that was no way to indicate love, and that’s why I was never hit as a child.  If you love something, you do not hit it! –even if you’re God, or Jesus; you do not hit, you do not use that power to bully or threaten anyone. And you don’t rape Mary just because you need a son…

Calvin-tight crop 1950 copy

This was why he was opposed to ideas of Christian hell, this mostly Native American man whose father wasn’t black at all, Cherokee and Caucasian…



No threats of eternal punishment  just to get obedience; it should be choice, not mandate… Something my mother still does not comprehend, as she’s perfectly willing to acknowledge The Lord as her master… Not me! –no man is my “master”! —I refuse to have one; US slaves were freed! –my mother is  one of those who did not free themselves  psychologically; she remains “bound” just not physically.

My father’s father right here:

Frizzell Brasier copy

 My father was Cherokee, Black and a bit Caucasian like his father (who was only Native American and Caucasian).  And he grew up in the south at a time where segregation was the rule, yet his family defied that rule, by allowing the races to mix…

and I am a mix of both of them, and my black mother:

Selfie Friday #4

I had what many might consider to be an odd upbringing, a mother intent upon Christian hell as the place that I’m going.  Little did she know that the man she had married was teaching me something else, the most important lessons that I’ve ever been taught:


Some people doubt that I am truly “black” when they learn that I was never hit, that my relationship with my father bordered on ideal… I know tales of being whipped and spanked only through others, not through personal experience.  No extension cord beatings, no beatings at all. 

I would walk to church with my mother, and hear that I was going to hell, but the moment I got home, my father took me for very long walks, and wanted me to understand that there was no way that all could have been created before there was any awareness of the world, how new necessities would give rise to things people in bible days could not even imagine…

I grew up with dichotomies…

On these walks I was expected to interact with whatever I noticed; these walks took hours, and I always came home with a chapter of an alternative  “holy book”, volumes from the Golden Library of Knowledge: “Ants”, “Atoms”, Butterflies and Moths”, “Energy and Power”, “Engines”, “Mathematics”, The Moon”, “Space Flight”, Submarines:, “Prehistoric Animals”,  “The Body in Action” and “The Insect World” to name some of them.

Not books meant for girls..  My father was opposed to that, so raised me to partake of everything… He even created my first name for me, telling me when I was seven, that since there had never been a presence like mine in the world, I also needed a name that hadn’t been in the world… I get to define my name, a privilege and responsibility I do not take lightly.  

Every Sunday, I came home with one of these books that cost a quarter, and this way had chapters of an alternative bible… 

       Golden Book of Knowledge_Ants Golden Book of Knowledge_Atoms   Golden Book of Knowledge_Butterflies and Moths  Golden Book of Knowledge_Energy and Power Golden Book of Knowledge_Engines  Golden Book of Knowledge_Mathrmatics Golden Book of Knowledge_Moon Golden Book of Knowledge_Space Flight Golden Book of Knowledge_Submarines Golden Books of Knowledge_Prehistoric AnimalsGolden Book of Knowledge_Body in ActionGolden book of Knowledge_Insect World

I wasn’t raised according to conventional definitions and limitations of gender…

He died in 1980, the year before I graduated from Oberlin College, first in my class, a 4.11 GPA, lowest grade was an “A-” in an English class of all things…Something considered unusual for brown girls… for “girls” at all! –how surprised people were to see that it was me at the top of the class! –I graduated Phi Beta Kappa too. 

Tiny brown girl.

But without that “-” , no “limited fork” as I tried to find somewhere to put that idea, and the space created by the “-” was perfect for me to try to fill.  In every other class, I attained the ceiling easily, but only in English did I have a weakness, so I focused on English in grad school in Hew Hampshire working with Charles Simic currently reading another manuscript of mine: “LFMK: Looking for my Killer”

 (a prose poam from that collection  The Afterlife of Corpses” has been published online in issue 6 of One.)

Also the reason that my father rejected Christian hell, something that didn’t make sense to him; something that no father who loved his children would ever make, because this bullying method was no way to express love –and so my father was completely opposed to hitting.

But now, because of changes in my situation, I’ve written a very different kind of book, one with a potential to sell! –one that I even dare to hope becomes a movie; working on a final revision now of:

“Looking for Forker Gyrl”


NKH: New Kiss Horizon


by Adorabilis Flapjack  Tardis

(Thylias Moss)

It is for this new book, that I need an agent! –poem: “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia” is one of the new poems in “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities Red Dress Code” –cover is not yet known but I do have a YouTube video of the same name:

This book, my eleventh, won’t be published until September 2016, but this other manuscript has so much more potential… The short story, “Mongongo Drupe” published in Callaloo,(Volume 38, Number 1, Winter 2015) is a chapter, in slightly different form of NKH (New Kiss Horizon)

Whole manuscript is really a bit of sex-positive feminism, but my fine publisher at Persea feels that this NKH book must wait until 2017 at the earliest, but I believe in this book so much, that I am willing to seek publication outside Persea

I did have an agent, long before I produced anything the nature of NKH, but because I published over the years, mostly literary poetry, and won many awards, including a MacArthur Fellowship, (aka “Genius award)  and two nominations for the National Book Critic Circle awards, for “Pyramid of Bone” and “Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler“, that agent dropped me and NOW I NEED ANOTHER, AND HAVE A BOOK WHERE AN AGENT COULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE.  NKH could be a very popular book, but Persea Books, as much as I love my publisher, would not be able to offer me the kind of dollars that are the potential of NKH, and I’m sure that this must violate something in the contract giving Persea first opportunity to publish all of my work, but the magnitude of NKH could be beyond anything that Persea can do… I would like this manuscript considered by publishing houses including but not limited to Persea –only an agent could get this manuscript read, and as much as I love my publisher, Persea is also acting as my agent; a conflict of interest right there; how can I expect my existing publisher to pay beyond what she’d have to?  –the only way is with a third party agent; contact me, and I’ll let you read parts of the manuscript…  I need money. 

and then you can decide if you’d like to represent NKH.  Thank you.

Pyramid of Bone Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler

I need an agent for NKH! –I am willing to break my contract with Persea in order to have this book… If you are or know of an agent, please contact me… I am presently revising NKH to make it as perfect as I can… It does include plenty of wonderful sex, and involves an unexpected couple , two sixty-somethings enjoying a weekend in Chicago… Fiction, of course! –but based on something I’ve long craved, being in a marriage not right for me from the time I was a teenager until I was 60, as I am in NKH…

That I can both imagine and write about what I’ve always wanted is a testimony to a need for love, a need for love that I choose! –and not love chosen for me, beginning with a rape when I was fifteen –hardly a good introduction to pleasures of the body that become realized finally in NKH, when the Adorabilis character is 60 years old,

If you are an agent or know of an agent, please contact me via comment to this message or on Facebook  where you can find me as: Thylias Moss