Writer’s Serenade

January 26, 2018

I want to make love to you with words,
Get down and grease you up in dirty verbs.
Talk about ‘freak’ but haven’t you heard,
This is the new sex darling, not so absurd.

Let me take you to places only I can imagine,
We can live there in decent/indecent fashion.
Buckle those head belts, seats securely fastened,
This love cannot be severed or rationed.

Let me sentence you, to sentences of English lust,
Don’t believe that skin, but in the soul, we must.
Wipe off that vanilla scent of redly golden rust,
Besides truly in the inner and outer who do we trust?

Paragraphs laid out in sweet dark temptation,
Take my hand, equal now, no more trepidation.
My prowess is my head, a nasty beautiful reputation,
Don’t try to reason now, lost in bliss, no equalization.

Follow along through the once created rabbit hole,
Don’t you see your hidden prominent godly role?
If I put you in words, you’re my heart and my soul,
Now tell me sweetly, do you really wanna go?
Thomas Spychalski

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Wise Thought of the Day #12

January 12, 2018

“The best tool a creative writer can have is his five-year-old self in his head, the kid that imagined they were in space floating in zero gravity when jumping on the bed and had tea parties with his or her best imaginary friends.” – Thomas Spychalski 

November: Month of Blistered Typing Fingers

October 29, 2017

On a catch up ‘day’

I am a glutton for punishment.

Last November, I ‘won’ NaNoWriMo, and even though that sounds like I contracted a rare tropical disease, it actually just means I wrote 50,000 words of the first draft of a novel by writing every single day in November (I am not gonna lie, I missed day one to three and played catch up several times but if there is one thing I can do, its drone on baby, especially in text format!) for National Novel Writing Month.

That was actually kind of a nice way to get motivated to actually knuckle down and kick out a book that has been in my head in some form or another since the late nineties at least. So of course, I plan on doing it again next month and although the daily word count does sort of flow from me once I am ‘warmed up,’ tackling the assorted tasks and mishaps that can come in writing the first draft of a novel is not easy if you have never tried it yourself.

So earlier in the week I was browsing around for something to inspire me so even in the not so perfect situation I am currently living in, I have no ‘zero days,’ even if the day itself was a lonely, boring, and painful day from hell.

In the process, I caught another of them there funny tropical diseases with the funny names: NaBloPoMo.

National Blog Posting Month…a post each day in November.

Now, where this new strain of writing motivation stands, I have a couple of easy ways out.

I sometimes publish fiction and poetry here from the WordPress Daily Writing Prompt, so there is a few at the very least. The majority of the content here is poetry, which flows from me like running water honestly and I always wanted to implement and post about the content of the book Thirty-One Days to a Better Blog on a day by day, post by post basis, but that may be umm…postponed.

However, I also decided to, with the handy aid of writer’s intuition to hopefully make the content accessible and readable, write a bit about my own life and the challenges within it.

Being the tidy sort that likes to keep his websites organized, that is why this new section: Effigies Vitae Meae was created.

Additionally, will also be writing more about what I see going on around me in the world, especially in modern times, which honestly just seems to get scarier and weirder as well.

Ideas for this section are already in place…watch this space.

Thomas Spychalski 



Fiction: Of Light And Shadow | The Doctor Who Companion

December 31, 2016

A little bit of holiday Doctor Who fiction to start off the new year from TomSpy and the Doctor Who Companion.

All shares, comments, and likes welcome.


Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh spotted the man in the crowd; it was easier than he thought because the man stuck out like a black cloud in a blue sky. He was tall, perhaps just a slight illusion caused by his hair which was pushing out of his head towards the sky like unruly weeds in a flower bed. He also was, of course, dressed unlike anyone else on Yernin Six, which was to be expected for an off world traveller. The long brown coat, what he suspected was an off-world version of ceremonial robes in a dark blue and garish red shoes that did not seem to match either of the former articles of clothing.

In fact, it was hard to believe this was the man who had just saved his entire planet from a race of cyborgs, but it was a fact.

What bothered Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh was the orders he kept getting from the world’s ministry about the celebration they had planned for the alien. As he was the saviour of the planet, every little thing he asked for was almost law, from the memo that tonight at midnight everyone should get a present from their friends and family, to the other proclamation that said tonight would also be the start of a new cycle on Yemin Six, this one to be called a ‘new year’, to be marked by parties and celebration, rather than the days of meditation and reflection that occurred when one of the Yemin elders declared a new cycle.

It was an affront to everything his culture stood for, and he intended to give this strange looking ‘Doctor’ a piece of his mind. Delvenoosh pushed through the crowds towards the throng of people encircling the alien, who, despite his wide grin and ample play in his words, seemed almost wary of this celebration, like he would like to be anywhere else but here.

The crowd rightfully made way for Delvenoosh’s sash of the fifth order and as he reached the Doctor he tapped him on the shoulder.

“Doctor?” The man turned his grin on him and Delvenoosh could see how the leaders in the capital city could have been charmed by such a face. It seemed to almost burn with energy and charm. “My name is Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh, the top council in this port city of Parthos. I would like to have a word with you… on official business.”

“Certainly.” The Doctor turned to the people surrounding him, the burning grin unable to hide a look of relief. “Sorry, have to go now, thank you very much, official business you see, and you can’t get anymore official than official business, can you?”

Delvenoosh led the Doctor out of the press of bodies and into the doorway of a small shop, closed for the sudden ‘holiday’ as the alien called it.

“So what can I do for you, Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh?”

“I am concerned about the celebration you have planned for our victory, Doctor. As grateful as I am, like any loyal subject of Yemin Six, you must understand that the suddenness of this event as well as the nature of how it is celebrated is not the usual way we mark great events in our history.”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? To live a little, shake a leg, show a little emotion. A celebration, if you will, of what was almost taken from you by force.”

It was Delvenoosh’s turn to grin. “Doctor, I am a Yeminian seer of the eighth order – I can see when a man is lying to save face or save another grief; it is my livelihood.”

“I see I can’t get one past you, Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh.” The Doctor started rummaging in his pockets. “I have a card here for the intergalactic debate team; you could be the goalie.”

“And now deflection. Come now, Doctor, will you tell me why you have shaken our culture’s roots like a child does a sapphire tree in the time of warming or will I have to put a halt to this celebration several minutes before it begins?”


Finally, the grin dropped away from his face and you could see another man inside, a colder and more rigid figure. This man Delvenoosh could see repelling an invading army. “Because if you don’t millions of your people will all die in the exact same moment.”

“I trust you can explain such an extraordinary claim?”

“Have you ever heard of the Vashta Nerada? They are a race that lives in shadow and most likely one of the most prevalent races in the universe. They were able to accomplish this by evolution, adapting to the environments they lived in like any other creature. They are here, like on any other world. Thing is, as I said, they are such survivors because they follow the main rule of survival, which is adaption.”

“So?” Delvenoosh was getting aggravated with this alien. “What does this have to do with the celebrations?”

“Imagine you are a race that feeds on flesh, like the Vashta Nerada and you ended up on a planet where flesh itself was in short supply, replaced by metal and plastic?”

“I suppose they adapted.”

“Exactly, Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh, and they adapted to feed on emotion, but like anyone, they prefer a certain kind of meal. They feed off misery, sadness, and tragedy. The only way they can be defeated is through the kind of food that is almost like poison to them, something that is hard to find on the planets this breed of Vashta Nerada adapted to. Happiness, joy, and the spirit of love.”

“This does not explain, however, any of the memos I have been getting. I don’t see how a choice between ‘Candy cane’ and ‘mistletoe’ as decorations have any bearing on this new invading force.”

“Candy cane.” The Doctor said, the burning grin alight once again.

“I’m sorry?”

“Candy cane. Much better choice. Two colours in one and fresh breath, brilliant.”

“But are these choices significant?”

“Well, not really – you can find happiness in anything but I kind of adapted some ideas from random holidays on a planet called Earth. Your culture has no precedent for this kind of thing, Delvenoosh. I had to use outside sources to make it work.”

“As this week-long celebration is about to start, I can’t help but wonder what will happen to these emotion-eating aliens.”

“Some will leave, follow the original Cyber invasion force, some will starve. Others will be starving so badly as we eliminated the first call from the dinner bell and will try and literally eat happiness before they realised they have just poisoned themselves.”

Behind the pair, just off the docks, the sky began to come alight with what was termed as fireworks.

Delvenoosh pointed to the skies that were now almost alive. “And these things will keep evil at bay?”

The Doctor placed his hands in his trouser’s pockets and turned to Delvenoosh. “We can always hope, Grand Sernoon Delvenoosh, that even the coldest Winter will lead to the warmth of Spring. Hope is a choice after all.”
-Thomas Spychalski

Doctor Who: A Beginner’s Guide To Regeneration

October 16, 2016

doctor_who_tardis-wallpaper-9462934An overview I have written about fifty years of regeneration on the BBC television series Doctor Who has been published on The Doctor Who Companion:

“Doctor Who is surely one of the most original television programs ever to be made.

From the concept of the TARDIS being bigger on the inside than out, with the ability to go anywhere in time and space, to the concept that the main hero, the Doctor, is not the average science fiction pin-up, using his wits instead of a gun or other weapon. Some of these ideas were born out of real-world considerations, such as the exterior of the TARDIS being stuck in the form of 1960s Metropolitan Police Box, which was brought about so the production team could use one prop instead of having to find a new one each adventure to blend in with its surroundings.

One such idea was the idea that the Doctor could ‘renew’ his body when it became old and frail or was otherwise mortally injured, was thought up when the first actor to play the Doctor, William Hartnell, became too ill to carry on and was also becoming quite hard to work with at times, something that is played out in detail in the 2013 special,An Adventure in Space and Time.”

More at this link…

Thomas Spychalski

Wise Thought of the Day # 1

July 16, 2016

IMAG1275“With a non fiction piece it’s how you grab people when you start it, with poetry it’s how you close it and with fiction the entire journey must be well planned and even better executed.”

In my opinion of course… 🙂

Southwest News Hearld Poetry

February 15, 2013

poetry 3

Way back in the early to mid 90’s, I sent in about six or so submissions to the Southwest News-Hearld‘s poetry section Thoughts In Verse.

Although the poetry here is not the best in the world and I am pretty sure the editorial standards for choosing which poetry got published was no more complicated then making sure the same poet did not run in subsequent issues, it was the first thing I ever wrote with the intention of making it public.

Read the rest of this entry »

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