Writer's Real

Writer of escape narrates his own narrative about miracle imagery post-dealings with a fanatic who has him in her snow-cabin post-trauma, in a fanfic-adaptation of a Stephen King tale-of-knot.

A pensive writer's adaptation of the image-heavy film translation of the searing work of Selfie-haunting by Stephen King, Misery (Kathy Bates, award-winner). Thanks for reading (Happy Thanksgiving-November), 

DISCLAIMER: This work of creative fanfiction/adaptation offers no commercial/explicit ties to the referenced work of inspiration and is therefore cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' views/translations/comments).

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"I didn't know or thing that my work for writing of cleats in the American Homeland concerning a stalked football-cheerleader would land me into the pit of darkness, with a snow-cabin jailer-woman who considered herself my #1-fan for things of storytelling-reorientations, but that's just what happened to me in the Winter-'25 season when I cheered for my fave Buffalo-NY team streaking for Lombardi-trophy vanities that spiked my Catholic-American immigrant/citizen Selfie-vanity of keratin (for leviathan/uncertainty). Follow along, friends...as I relay this dark faerie-tale of escape concerning a writer's sidewalk-block of prayers that concerned evasion of bloody-murder (Selfie-like)."

DANICA: Would you stop fidgeting and worrying about darkness, Mr. Satan?
MR. AMLAN SATAN (Me): Hey, Danica lady, I'm just a Slovak-Algerian Catholic man.

DANICA: Don't be coy or humble beyond Rationalism here in my snow-cabin now!

ME: Well, I've become your car-crash post-trauma patient in your cabin-care, no?

DANICA: I know you'll get your rise-on and write that story I crave for football!

ME: You know I'm a prize-winner for my tales of that iconic cheerleader for know.

DANICA: I want you to make a revision-tale of your famous cheerleader here/now!

ME: What if I can't, Danica lady...in this snow-state of handicapped humiliation?

DANICA: If you fail me, Mr. Satan, I'll decapitate you and erase all your celebrity.

ME: Wow...I can't refuse (Facebook-like).

"Well, Danica, the lady who rescued me post-crash of my car in the snow-land of the American Homeland and took me in as her English-writing patient in her remote cabin of incomplete-distances, insisted I re-write my plot-timeline of my now-iconic cheerleader fictional 'avatar' character of sports (American football!) to cast a special superstitions cleats of what made that grit-game of helmets and teamwork fantasies something of immortals-knot...and sadness. I was to write that my cheerleader of fiction was resurrected from the dead, after being bloody-murdered, to assuage Danica's eerie-insanity that my protagonist tragedy-femme was in no-way distance lead from Danica's (own) private/secret psychotic feeling that ice-hockey was more 'cool' than American football (ok). Danica had become an esteemed hockey-universe calendar model-woman and was suspect in a serial-killer case of antisocial stories about local hockey-fan girls vanishing. Now, with me as her hostage-of-sorts, Danica wanted me to make miracle out of nothingness with a cheerleader-writing re-direction for 'know' (Facebook-like)."

ELIZA: Glad you're safe/returned, Amlan Satan...here's some football-cookies.

ME: I'm to adapt this escape-tale from darkness with a novel concept, eh?

ELIZA: All your readers crave it...especially since Danica's dead, killed by you!

ME: I was fortunate, Eliza...and since you're my publisher, you offer me sanity.

ELIZA: Just eat these football-cookies and think of all the money we'll make!

ME: Don't you worry that Danica will have some fan-fanatics copycats now, doll?

ELIZA: Your tale about escape from Danica's cabin is (simple) know...for football.

ME: Why's it that she was insane with her hockey-background, for my football?

ELIZA: Who cares, Satan...for everything's knucklebones?

ME: I guess I've become the 'thief'...of Danica's knife (I'll write).

ELIZA: Facebook-like (for 'American' chocolate).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)