MangyKid Ver.4.3
Champion!
Everlasting funk:
A look at author Charlie Collins
Charlie Collins. The man is an enigma wrapped in a coating of some mythical element that imbues said enigma with writing prowess. But he is more than a burrito-like tornado of innovative literature! He is also the illustrator of all of his books, his charming stick figures and inept doodlings accompanying all of his works. But he is even more than that! He’s even a songsmith; he’ll oftentimes play a compelling ditty on his flute, and perhaps make up a humorous limerick on the spot to accompany the fine tune. I would say he is more than that, but beyond the normal human functions of eating, sleeping, etc., he has never been observed partaking in activities of any other sort.
It is a mystery how he even came to be literate, for he never went to school, or read a book. It is rumored that upon emerging from the womb, he promptly picked up the severed umbilical cord that had sustained him for months and began drafting his first book, “Planetary Soap,” with drippings of afterbirth as his ink and the dusty barn floor he was delivered upon as his parchment. But regardless of his mysterious, intrinsic knowledge’s source, it is irrefutable that the man has written some of the finest novels of modern times. “Planetary Soap,” for instance, was published originally when Charlie was at the ripe age of 0.5, and became an instant hit, striking a chord in the heart of an entire nation.
For an example of Charlie Collins’s adroit and entertaining writing, one needs look no further than his second novel, “Fluorescent Demonstration.” This tragic book tells the tale of a young immigrant woman from Sicily, struggling to survive in 12th century ancient China after being magically transported there by Ezekiael, The book’s antagonist, a horrific creature made from condensed cat dander that has been collected and made sentient through magical means by Satan’s younger brother, Floopzak. This book is a magnificent achievement, the best possible example of anything writing-related in modern time, and two copies have been sold for every ant that has ever lived. The origin and wacky misadventures of Ezekiael and Floopzak were further explored in Charlie’s 13th book, “Soggily Formed.”
This is but one of the universes that Charlie Collins’s fruitful mind has brought to us, just one tasty morsel of the complex fictional mythology that was his self-made muse. To see an example of the wide range of styles he uses in his works, simply look to one of his later books, such as “Salivating Drunkard,” a book written entirely in Old English that concerns a fictional and esoteric 16th century culture that was borne upon the shoulders of monkey enthusiasts. The sequel, “Great Apes,” was exactly the same as the original, but with the monkeys replaced by apes. It has recently been adapted into a hit Broadway musical, which is ironic because “Salivating Drunkard” was an abysmal failure when it premiered on Broadway several years ago.
Charlie’s death has been a critical blow to booklovers, and many have attempted to bargain with Satan to bring him back to the living, but to no avail. I myself have felt the intense void that has been formed in the literary world due to his absence, and can only help that this void will be filled quickly, before it sucks all of us into a Collins-deprived dementia. Fortunately, he has left us with a formidable amount of books since his tragic death at the venerable age of 11.
The books seem to reproduce themselves in some mysteriously organic way, for more are discovered in spontaneous places as time goes on, years after Charlie’s death. Books are found nearly daily, in places as remote as Pakistan or Antarctica. Although these could be fakes, the writing never falters, and they are done in such an undoubtedly complimentary style to all of his other writings that whether or not they are fakes is raised nary a time. The current count of both “real” and found books, as of one week ago, was in the quadruple digits.
For a taste of this intense writer’s incredible work, I suggest the books mentioned earlier and the following:
Unknown Crackerjack
Flapjack Sunrise
Banana Flavored Shrapnel
Peter Pansy 3: Apprehension
Trailmix or Eggnog?
Gingerly, Dear Homunculus
I have failed to mention the extensive number of musical releases that he also has under his belt, as I have heard but a few. However, the several I do own are a window into his soul, and my own. His wistful tunes and adeptly applied lyrics prove to be not only relevant, but inspiring. For some of his better musical work, listen to these bad boys:
Flutin’ Around
Eleven Shrunken Toes
Uncle Underwear
The Nose Carrier
Oh, go for the porn man.
Professor Pete,
Insatiable Suncake Crew
A look at author Charlie Collins
Charlie Collins. The man is an enigma wrapped in a coating of some mythical element that imbues said enigma with writing prowess. But he is more than a burrito-like tornado of innovative literature! He is also the illustrator of all of his books, his charming stick figures and inept doodlings accompanying all of his works. But he is even more than that! He’s even a songsmith; he’ll oftentimes play a compelling ditty on his flute, and perhaps make up a humorous limerick on the spot to accompany the fine tune. I would say he is more than that, but beyond the normal human functions of eating, sleeping, etc., he has never been observed partaking in activities of any other sort.
It is a mystery how he even came to be literate, for he never went to school, or read a book. It is rumored that upon emerging from the womb, he promptly picked up the severed umbilical cord that had sustained him for months and began drafting his first book, “Planetary Soap,” with drippings of afterbirth as his ink and the dusty barn floor he was delivered upon as his parchment. But regardless of his mysterious, intrinsic knowledge’s source, it is irrefutable that the man has written some of the finest novels of modern times. “Planetary Soap,” for instance, was published originally when Charlie was at the ripe age of 0.5, and became an instant hit, striking a chord in the heart of an entire nation.
For an example of Charlie Collins’s adroit and entertaining writing, one needs look no further than his second novel, “Fluorescent Demonstration.” This tragic book tells the tale of a young immigrant woman from Sicily, struggling to survive in 12th century ancient China after being magically transported there by Ezekiael, The book’s antagonist, a horrific creature made from condensed cat dander that has been collected and made sentient through magical means by Satan’s younger brother, Floopzak. This book is a magnificent achievement, the best possible example of anything writing-related in modern time, and two copies have been sold for every ant that has ever lived. The origin and wacky misadventures of Ezekiael and Floopzak were further explored in Charlie’s 13th book, “Soggily Formed.”
This is but one of the universes that Charlie Collins’s fruitful mind has brought to us, just one tasty morsel of the complex fictional mythology that was his self-made muse. To see an example of the wide range of styles he uses in his works, simply look to one of his later books, such as “Salivating Drunkard,” a book written entirely in Old English that concerns a fictional and esoteric 16th century culture that was borne upon the shoulders of monkey enthusiasts. The sequel, “Great Apes,” was exactly the same as the original, but with the monkeys replaced by apes. It has recently been adapted into a hit Broadway musical, which is ironic because “Salivating Drunkard” was an abysmal failure when it premiered on Broadway several years ago.
Charlie’s death has been a critical blow to booklovers, and many have attempted to bargain with Satan to bring him back to the living, but to no avail. I myself have felt the intense void that has been formed in the literary world due to his absence, and can only help that this void will be filled quickly, before it sucks all of us into a Collins-deprived dementia. Fortunately, he has left us with a formidable amount of books since his tragic death at the venerable age of 11.
The books seem to reproduce themselves in some mysteriously organic way, for more are discovered in spontaneous places as time goes on, years after Charlie’s death. Books are found nearly daily, in places as remote as Pakistan or Antarctica. Although these could be fakes, the writing never falters, and they are done in such an undoubtedly complimentary style to all of his other writings that whether or not they are fakes is raised nary a time. The current count of both “real” and found books, as of one week ago, was in the quadruple digits.
For a taste of this intense writer’s incredible work, I suggest the books mentioned earlier and the following:
Unknown Crackerjack
Flapjack Sunrise
Banana Flavored Shrapnel
Peter Pansy 3: Apprehension
Trailmix or Eggnog?
Gingerly, Dear Homunculus
I have failed to mention the extensive number of musical releases that he also has under his belt, as I have heard but a few. However, the several I do own are a window into his soul, and my own. His wistful tunes and adeptly applied lyrics prove to be not only relevant, but inspiring. For some of his better musical work, listen to these bad boys:
Flutin’ Around
Eleven Shrunken Toes
Uncle Underwear
The Nose Carrier
Oh, go for the porn man.
Professor Pete,
Insatiable Suncake Crew
