“There are 32 ways to tell a story, and I’ve used everyone, but there’s only one plot, things are not as they seem.
Jim Thompson

“There are 32 ways to tell a story, and I’ve used everyone, but there’s only one plot, things are not as they seem.
Jim Thompson

I fell out of love by mid-day.
The snow was white and fast.
There was crunching in the footsteps.
All the praise for cold had passed.
I was huddled with my cafe cream.
I was braced at distant storm.
Then I remembered that you weren’t here.
Once again, my heart did warm.

I was attracted by her beauty.
Even read the things she wrote.
In her diary of private thoughts.
She said I wouldn’t get her vote.
I feel no guilt or shaming.
Even if somehow I got caught.
Don’t care about your feelings.
Because I know you can be bought.
There’s a quiver in the ether.
A faint hint of rich fresh air.
I will use this little breather.
Just to plan and scheme and stare.
You said you wanted feelings.
With a longing for deep truth.
You said you wanted Superman.
He’s on a cellphone by the booth.
He said he doesn’t like you.
He’s not into girls no more.
We are living in a brand new world.
And I’m by the exit door.

There is color in the flowers.
And moisture in the rain.
The rocks are hard and heavy.
And the soil holds all pain.
I’ve been dancing in the meadows.
I don’t dare to stay too long.
And only under darkened skies.
Where the thunder plays my song.
No more confab with the foolish.
Or the prideful, boastful voice.
I take it to the world at large.
And pretend I have a choice.
Sometimes, I miss delusions.
In the busy city streets.
And the chaos and confusions.
But not the phones and texts and tweets.

I’d been searching for the answers… When finally she came along.
Preforming miracles, curing cancers. Giving music to the song.
She taught and gave directions. Even when I didn’t ask.
She let me know my fortune. In her sunshine I could bask.
She showed me all my foibles. And how little I evolved.
I felt criminally unworthy, so I left her. Mystery solved.



NEW BOOK RELEASE!⁷
Look Them in the Eyes
Dennis Mantin. Friesen Press, 2023
There are thirty-two ways to write a story, and I’ve used every one, but there is only one plot—things are not as they seem.
Jim Thompson

Following the birth of his daughter, Jackie, middle-aged Zach MacIver is determined to stop what he terms “intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction” from plaguing his family. Over the course of two years, from the time Jackie is eight until she turns ten, Zach recounts his life experiences to her while attempting to navigate the obstacles created by her mother, Tina, who is experiencing her own version of intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction. The story begins during the COVID-19 pandemic when the world and its inhabitants face mounting daily trials and life-altering decisions. From there the narrative proceeds in a non-linear fashion as Zach recounts the roots of his own dysfunction and how his love for his daughter and his desire to be a good father forced him to face his difficulties head on. American author Jim Thompson once wrote, “There are thirty-two ways to write a story, and I’ve used every one, but there is only one plot—things are not as they seem.” This story is a great reminder of that.
Available now to purchase in eBook, paper, and hardcover from Amazon, Friesen Press, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, Google Play, and Kobo.
ACCOLADES
Book I wish I could read again for the first time!
Dennis Mantin’s clean characterisation breathes life into the narrative, the realistic portrayal adds to the reader’s understanding of the book’s profound messages on life and people. What’s compelling about the novel is the the Protagonist’s journey, his perspective on “intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction” and how he’s determined to stop that from plaguing his family. The story is neatly told from Zach’s( the protagonist) perspective. It’s a non linear narrative with characters virtually jumping off the page. The characters, their presentation and Mantin’s unique writing style offer readers a fresh and deep perspective.
—Anuradha Basu, Amazon, November 21, 2023
There was darkness in the shadows.
January has a colder edge.
Whiteness fell upon the meadows.
Stayed inside, not near the ledge.
There is a pain we don’t give words to.
Staring blind at faith and hope.
No need to name such feelings.
You just pray for strength to cope

I grew tired in the winter.
And stayed cold at break of day.
The darkness overcame us all.
And wouldn’t lift or go away.
There are lessons in the madness.
And a stillness in the storm.
And still I need to wait it out.
To when the lightness meets the warm.

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