Welcome to penandcape.com
Greetings, Internet Surfer, and welcome to PenandCape.com. But what exactly IS penandcape.com you ask? Well, that’s a long answer. But, since there is still much contention over whether or not Time is infinite, I’ll offer up the short version:
Essentially, PenandCape.com is a blog(ish) place designed to broadcast poetic and/or prose transmissions from the darkest (and sometimes brightest) nether regions of Jason Mott’s mind. But who is Jason Mott? He’s a poet and fiction writer who’s getting more than a little freaked out speaking about himself in the third person. So let’s make a small grammar shift, shall we?
Ready?
Okay, let’s start again:
My name is Jason Mott. (Yes…yes, Igor! That feels much, much better). I’m a writer living in North Carolina and I’m proud to say that I write a great deal of poetry that focuses on superheroes. I’m a fanboy (and proud of it!). Like some of you who may have come across this website, I grew up reading comic books. And, like others of you who may have come across this website, I grew up reading lots of classic literature and poetry.
Comments: 3 |
The Identity of Betty Rubble
Another installment from the Betty & Wilma series. This one serves as a followup to the previous piece. Hope you enjoy!
-J
__________________
The Identity of Betty Rubble
The robberies so far had been calculated risks and calculated successes. A dozen small miracles or feats of fate had transpired to get Wilma and Betty and Fred and Barney away cleanly each time—clean being a relative term. There were descriptions of them in a few newspapers and a little expose had run on television back in Bedrock, calling them the “Bedrock Bandits.” And now that they were four robberies deep maybe a few bastions of law and order here and there were beginning to catch wind of their spree, but the media, somehow, still seemed in the dark. Or maybe they just had bigger fish to fry. Dinosaurs were disappearing by the herdful of late and there seemed to be more theories than assholes and, thankfully, the assholes were good at taking up airtime and keeping little things like small town bank robberies to themselves.
Dive deeper…
Comments: Be the first to comment |
New Wilma & Betty Story (Trailer)
Here’s the “trailer” from the latest Wilma & Betty story (which I’ll be reading at Jengo’s Playhouse this Saturday night–May, 29th; 814 Princess Street @ 7:00pm). A little something to wet your palette.
Come out. Bring Friends. Hear the rest of the story.
-JM
“The Identity of Betty Rubble”
(opening)
There were banks a plenty in Rock Vegas but there were the casinos too. So Wilma was working on a strategy for taking her fair share of the Vegas limelight and the Vegas coin while Betty tried to look up an old acquaintance and Fred and Barney went about the business of developing healthy gambling addictions. See, Betty and Wilma had been here once before. A few years back, back when they first came to see that they didn’t owe their lives anything and, ultimately, every day was only a matter of what they wanted it to be. They’d come out here to Vegas and drank too much whiskey and maybe rode the white horse one time too many and spent too much time dancing with the men their husbands would never be and, now, sometimes, those memories came back to them.
Wilma was good enough about ignoring what this city was telling her. Her plate was full with thoughts on how to get into the Bellagirock vault and make off with a few million. But Betty, being better on the gun than on the planning table, Betty had nothing to do but remember Dive deeper…
Comments: Be the first to comment | Tags: Flintstones, Wilma & Betty
Wilma & Betty: Episode IV
Wilma & Betty IV: Betty and Yesterday
By
Jason Mott
On the table between them, a half-empty glass of wine filled the space.
“God!” Betty exclaimed, smiling. “I just can’t believe how long it’s been.”
It had been decades since Betty last saw the woman now sitting across from her at the small, circular table in the window of Black Jurassic Java & Spirits. When Betty last saw the woman, she was not a woman at all. She was a girl, a dark-skinned Cro-Magnon girl—young and brown and glib.
“I’ve been living in New Pebble Beach,” the woman said. “I still love the sun.”
“It shows,” Betty replied.
The woman extended a thick, sienna hand and raised the glass of wine to her lips. She drank it slowly, in timid sips, as though each would be her last.
“And what have you been up to?” the woman asked. “That little gray stone on your finger tells me that, somewhere out there lost in a storm of mail, there’s an invitation with my name on it.”
Betty laughed. It was a light, sparkling laugh. It arched her back.
“I didn’t know how to get in touch with you. You disappeared after that summer, remember? It was your parents, right? They picked up and moved to Morocco. That’s what my mother told me anyhow.”
“It was something like that,” Dive deeper…
Comments: Be the first to comment | Tags: Flintstones, Prose, Wilma & Betty
Wilma & Betty: Episode III
Wilma & Betty III: New Year’s Eve
By
Jason Mott
The night was early. The moon was still awakening from the dusk. But, already, all of them—Wilma and Betty and Fred and Barney—were so drunk on Jack Danielstone whiskey that none of them could remember who had suggested “wife swapping.”
The four of them lay sprawled across the new saber-toothed tiger rug that Fred had bought with his Christmas bonus from Mr. Slate a few days earlier.
Wilma and Barney went first. Dive deeper…
Comments: Be the first to comment | Tags: Flintstones, Prose, Wilma & Betty