Dear Whoever…, #70


Dear Whoever Has Been Anticipating my Fairytale Scavenger Hunt Contest,              June 21st, 2012

 It’s here! Finally! I know I got this idea like forever ago, about a year or longer ago. But alas, I pulled through. You didn’t expect me to? What? Fine.

A scavenger hunt is defined as a game in which individuals or teams try to locate and bring back miscellaneous items on a list.

This is an online scavenger hunt with the same idea with a few exceptions which are you’re doing this as individuals, and instead of items you’re bringing back words. Bold words. It starts here, on this very post, where you have to search for a bold word in my post, write it down, and go onto the next blog, where you’ll do the very same thing, till eventually you’ll be linked back here, but the difference between starting and finishing is that when you return here you should have all 6 bold words. After you have all 6 words you must copy and paste the The Wise Little Girl fairytale(see below) into an email unscramble the order of the words you’ve found, and plop the words(in the right order) into the story. Address it to and make the subject “Once Upon A Time” and email it to me by July 2nd. If you have the words in the correct order, you’ll be entered to win a limited edition of all the original fairy tales we’ve rewritten for this competition along with all the rewritten versions and a handwritten letter by me, eshy and quite possibly a bookmark featuring our scavenger hunt photo like seen above but that’s still undecided.

So a recap of how to play:

  1. Find all 6 bold words in all the blog posts by going from blog to blog using the links provided at the bottom of every post.
  2. Copy and paste The Wise Little Girl into an email to
  3. Put “Once Upon A Time” in the subject field.
  4. Unscramble the words you’ve found and fill in the blanks in the fairytale with them.
  5. Send it to me.

Got it? Good? Awesome! Let’s go: here’s the first story.

Hansel & Gretel

Once upon a time a very poor clerk lived in a house in the bard part of New York City with his two children, Henry and Gretchen, along with his soon to be wife. His fiancée often ill-treated the children and was forever nagging the clerk.

“There is not enough money to provide for us all. There are too many mouths to feed! We must get rid of the two brats,” she declared. And she kept trying to persuade her fiancé to abandon his children in the forest north of where they lived. “Take them miles into the forest, so far that they can never find their way back! Maybe some hiker will find them and take them to a home.” The downcast clerk didn’t know what to do. Henry who, one evening, had overheard his parents’ conversation, comforted Gretchen.

“Don’t worry! If they do leave us in the forest, we’ll find our way home,” he said. And slipping out of the house, he ran across the yard to a neighboring home, knocked, and eventually a little old lady came to the door carrying her cat. He told her of his father’s plan. She promised to go and get them as soon as she saw them leave. Henry went back to bed reassured with a little bag full of buttons the old lady had given him safely tucked in his pocket.

All night long, the clerk’s fiancée harped on and on at the clerk till, at dawn, he led Henry and Gretchen away into the forest. But as they went into the depths of the trees, Henry dropped a button here and there on the darkened, uneven ground. At a time much later into the night, the two children found they really were alone ; the clerk had gathered enough courage to desert his children, had mumbled an excuse, or maybe an apology, and left them there alone. Night fell and as expected, the clerk did not return. Gretchen began to sob steadily. Henry too felt abandoned and scared, but he tried to hide his feelings and comfort his sister.

“Don’t cry, trust me! We still have each other. We’ll go home even if Dad doesn’t come back for us!” The moon was not quite full nor bright that night and Henry had a sinking feeling as he waited till it’s cold light filtered through the trees.

Meanwhile, the old lady that lived next to the clerk had called the police, and had their forces out searching for the button trail.

The kids tried to follow the buttons to the main road or at least to the edge of the forest where the trees weren’t as thick. The buttons, however, didn’t quite gleam in the moonlight like they had hoped. It was a very long, cold night before the police found the kids huddled against a tree together. They arrested the clerk and his fiancée immediately for child endangerment.

The next day, Henry and Gretchen spent their day at the old lady’s little house, eating the sweet goods she baked all too willingly for them. What Henry and Gretchen did not know was that while the old woman was kind and their hero, she was also their soon to be grandmother who hated only one person more than the two of them, she hated her daughter. That’s right, she hated her daughter with a passion so intense that she promised only to help the young boy because she wanted her daughter along with that scum of a man who planned on marrying her, to be imprisoned.

After a few days of living with and taking care of the two children, she soon grew tiresome of them and their questions that they constantly bombarded her with. The wicked grandmother kept Henry and Gretchen confined in a closet for the better part of the day. When she led them towards the door leading outside, the children exchanged uneasy glances with each other. As they walked through the old woman’s sitting room, both Gretchen and Henry nicked a handful of hard butterscotch candies from the crystal dish that they’d seen the previous day while playing with the elderly woman’s cat after supper.

It seemed highly impossible to Henry that their new guardian could and would commit the very same crime against them that she, herself, had saved them from only days before. Yet as he sat there thinking that, he was abandoned with his sister once more in the forest. He soon realized that unlike the last time, nobody knew they were lost, and therefore, nobody would be looking for the trail they had left.

After this revelation, they ate the last few spare candies they had  before deciding to attempt at following the candy trail. Another thing that both the children failed to take into account was that their trail was made of candy and they were in the forest, with forest animals. They soon found out that the critters of the dark woods had eaten up all their hope of finding their way out of the woods ever again.

A few weeks after their second abandonment, a group of hikers stumbled upon their bodies, dead and lifeless, laying peacefully at rest beside a small stream.

We learn a few things from Henry and Gretchen’s unfortunate story. The first being, people are never who they seem. The second being, don’t trust anybody, especially old women with cats. The third being, when leaving a trail to follow somewhere or for someone rescuing you to follow, particularly in a life or death situation, don’t leave one made of candy or anything that forest animals might find edible. Next time try something like strips of cloth. If you get a next time.

                                        THE END




The Wise Little Girl Entry Form:

Once upon a time in the immense Russian steppe, lay a little village where nearly all the inhabitants bred horses. It was the month of October, when a big livestock market was held yearly in the main town. Two brothers, one rich and the other one

_ _ _ _, set off for market. The rich man rode a stallion, and the poor brother a young mare.

At dusk, they stopped beside an empty hut and tethered their horses outside, before going to sleep themselves on two heaps of straw. Great was their surprise, when, next morning they saw three horses outside, instead of two. Well, to be exact the newcomer was not really a horse. It was a foal, to which the mare had given birth during the night. Soon it had the strength to struggle to its feet, and after a drink of its mother’s milk, the foal staggered its first few steps. The stallion greeted it with a cheerful whinny, and when the two brothers set eyes on it for the first time, the foal was standing beside the stallion.

“It belongs to me!” exclaimed Dimitri, the rich brother, the minute he saw it. “It’s my stallion’s foal.” Ivan, the poor brother, began to laugh.

“Whoever heard of a stallion having a foal? It was born to my mare!”

“No, that’s not true! It was standing close to the stallion, so it’s the stallion’s foal. And therefore it’s mine!” The brothers started to quarrel, then they decided to go to town and bring the matter before the judges. Still arguing, they headed for the big square where the courtroom stood. But what they didn’t know was that it was a special day, the day when, once a year, the Emperor himself administered the law. He himself received all who came seeking justice. The brothers were ushered into his presence, and they told him all about the dispute.

Of course, the Emperor knew perfectly well who was the owner of the foal. He was on the point of proclaiming in favor of the poor brother, when suddenly Ivan developed an unfortunate twitch in his eye. The Emperor was greatly annoyed by this familiarity by a humble peasant, and decided to punish Ivan for his disrespect. After listening to both sides of the story, he declared it was difficult, indeed impossible, to say exactly who was the foal’s rightful owner. And being in the mood for a spot of fun, and since he loved posing riddles and solving them as well, to the amusement of his counselors, he exclaimed.

“I can’t judge which of you should have the foal, so it will be awarded to whichever of you solves the following four riddles: what is the fastest thing in the world? What is the fattest? What’s the softest and what is the most precious? I command you to return to the palace in a week’s time with your answers!” Dimitri started to puzzle over the answers as soon as he left the courtroom. When he reached home, however, he realized he had nobody to help him.

“Well, I’ll just have to seek help, for if I can’t solve these riddles, I’ll lose the foal!” Then he remembered a woman, one of his neighbors, to whom he had once lent a silver ducat. That had been some time ago, and with the interest, the neighbor now owed him three ducats. And since she had a reputation for being quick-witted, but also very astute, he decided to ask her advice, in exchange for canceling part of her debt. But the woman was not slow to show how astute she really was, and promptly demanded that the whole debt be wiped out in exchange for the answers.

“The fastest thing in the world is my husband’s bay _ _ _ _ _,” she said. “Nothing can beat it! The fattest is our pig! Such a huge beast has never been seen! The softest is the quilt I made for the bed, using my own goose’s feathers. It’s the envy of all my friends. The most precious thing in the world is my three-month old nephew. There isn’t a more handsome child. I wouldn’t exchange him for all the gold on earth, and that makes him the most precious thing on earth!”

Dimitri was rather doubtful about the woman’s answers being correct. On the other hand, he had to take some kind of solution back to the Emperor. And he guessed, quite rightly, that if he didn’t, he would be punished.

In the meantime, Ivan, who was a widower, had gone back to the humble cottage where he lived with his small daughter. Only seven years old, the little girl was often left alone, and as a result, was thoughtful and very clever for her age. The poor man took the little girl into his confidence, for like his brother, he knew he would never be able to find the answers by himself. The child sat in silence for a moment, then firmly said.

“Tell the Emperor that the fastest thing in the world is the cold north wind in winter. The fattest is the soil in our fields whose

 _ _ _ _ _ give life to men and animals alike, the softest thing is a child’s caress and the most precious is honesty.”

The day came when the two brothers were to return before the Emperor. They were led into his presence. The Emperor was curious to hear what they had to say, but he roared with laughter at Dimitri’s foolish answers. However, when it was Ivan’s turn to speak, a frown spread over the Emperor’s face. The poor brother’s wise replies made him squirm, especially the last one, about honesty, the most precious thing of all. The Emperor knew perfectly well that he had been dishonest in his dealings with the poor brother, for he had denied him justice. But he could not bear to admit it in front of his own counselors, so he angrily demanded:

“Who gave you these answers?” Ivan told the Emperor that it was his small daughter. Still annoyed, the great man said.

“You shall be rewarded for having such a wise and clever daughter. You shall be awarded the foal that your brother claimed, together with a hundred silver ducats… But… but…” and the Emperor winked at his counselors.

“You will come before me in seven days’ time, bringing your daughter. And since she’s so clever, she must appear before me neither naked nor dressed, neither on foot nor on horseback, neither bearing gifts nor empty-handed. And if she does this, you will have your reward. If not, you’ll have your head chopped off for your impudence!”

The onlookers began to laugh, knowing that the poor man would never to able to fulfill the Emperor’s conditions. Ivan went home in despair, his _ _ _ _ brimming with tears. But when he had told his daughter what had happened, she calmly said.

“Tomorrow, go and catch a hare and a partridge. Both must be alive! You’ll have the foal and the hundred silver ducats! Leave it to me!” Ivan did as his daughter said. He had no idea what the two creatures were for, but he trusted in his daughter’s wisdom.

On the day of the audience with the Emperor, the palace was thronged with bystanders, waiting for Ivan and his small daughter to arrive. At last, the little _ _ _ _ appeared, draped in a fishing net, riding the hare and holding the partridge in her hand. She was neither naked nor dressed, on foot or on horseback. Scowling, the Emperor told her.

“I said neither bearing gifts nor empty-handed!” At these words, the little girl held out the partridge. The Emperor stretched out his hand to grasp it, but the bird fluttered into the air. The third condition had been fulfilled. In spite of himself, the Emperor could not help admiring the little girl who had so cleverly passed such a test, and in a gentler voice, he said.

“Is your _ _ _ _ _ _ terribly poor, and does he desperately need the foal?”

“Oh, yes!” replied the little girl. “We live on the hares he catches in the rivers and the fish he picks from the trees!”

“Aha!” cried the Emperor triumphantly. “So you’re not as clever as you seem to be! Whoever heard of hares in the river and fish in the trees!” To which the little girl swiftly replied.

“And whoever heard of a stallion having a foal?” At that, both Emperor and Court burst into peals of laughter. Ivan was immediately given his hundred silver ducats and the foal, and the Emperor proclaimed.

“Only in my kingdom could such a wise little girl be born!”



Here’s a list of all the blogs in the hunt in order in case you lose your spot or have your computer crash or something of the like:

Well my best wishes to all of you who go on this hunt! I’m really excited and I can’t even enter. I wish. Anywho, if you have any concerns, comments, anything of that nature, I ask you email me via and NOT comment on this post. Same goes for any of the other blogs in the hunt. Email eshy if you have an issue or problem or just a question. Have an amazing day! Remember entries are due July 2nd. OH AND PLEASE IF YOU’RE RUNNONG INTO ISSUES WAIT UNTIL JUNE 23RD TO EMAIL ME, THIS GIVES TIME TO ALL THE OTHER BLOGGERS HELPING OUT TO POST THEIR STUFF FOR YOU TO FOLLOW. So the contest is June 23rd-July 2nd.  With sincere excitement, eshy,

P.S. I tried looking up quotes about searching or scavenger hunts, I failed. Just for your information.

P.P.S. My duck had two babies. They’re adorable. Sorry. Not the right time for that.

Dear Whoever…, #55

1 Comment

Dear Whoever Has Been Anticipating My Dec./January & 2011/2012 Contest,                             Decemeber 28th, 2011

          I apologize to the readers of my blog because I’ve been letting my blog slip and well I can hardly blame myself because it’s not really my fault, but I’ll blame myself anyway ’cause that’s just who I am. Anywho, sorry for the lack of quotes in my very lacking number of posts. I’m also very sorry that since my last contest I have fell into this horrible pattern of writing with I‘s and me‘s and mine and all these other first person pronouns. I simply don’t like them but now I’m trapped in this yucky habit and I don’t quite know how to escape it.

            As for my contest here it is:


  • Post a comment on this post including: 5 questions(minimum) you would like to know about me or anything else for that matter, and an email or link I can find you at in case you win. This must be done by January 4th, 2012 to be entered.


  • I will pick 15 of the funniest, difficult, awesome questions. Out of those I’ll randomly pick a question and whoever entered that 1 question will win the prize.


  • A 2012-2013 calender of your picking(out of the 8 I have) AND you pick which page(page #) I’ll be posting, straight and unedited out of my diary, along with the questions I choose on January 5th, 2012


  • All can be answered by emailing me at and leaving an email I can get back to you at.


            Well that’s sadly all I’ve got for you folks. See ya around next year hopefully, on January 5th, or before in my comments. Best of luck and happy new year.                                                -eshy

Dear Whoever…, #50


Dear Whoever Is Reading eshysletters Now,                                                                                           12-3-2011

“Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.”                                  -C.S. Lewis

“About the most originality that any writer can hope to achieve honestly is to steal with good judgment.” -Josh Billings

       I’ll get to my breakdown of the chosen quotes in a minute. As for now chill out, eat your tough cookies, and now you have to do a poll! Ha! -Or you could just scroll down…No! Please do the poll, they help. Whatdya wanna get outta eshysletters? I haven’t blogged much but it is Novemeber and I am trying to write a 50K+ word novel, my first 50,000 word novel. But enough about that because isn’t that what everyone else is blogging about? Or was blogging about since it’s over now. Anyways, once again I’ll remind you how eshysletters is different then other blogs, I (normally) don’t talk about me or my life. It’s a lot easier to write/type blog posts when you’re writing for yourself to read but when you’re writing for someone else to read and enjoy, well it’s a helluva lot easier. The writing quotes are to celebrate the end of November and the beginning of December, even though the first quote kinda applies to what I was talking about eshysletters being original. I don’t know, I’m tired and still reeling from NaNo gimme a break.

     Speaking of celebrating the end of Nov. and the beginning of Dec., isn’t that how I tricked myself into the horrible mess of having a contenst this time of the month every month, in the first place? Yeah, so that sentence might be confusing but do you’re best cause I ain’t explaining. This is a rather casual post for me isn’t it? It is, it’s kinda bugging me. Anyways, it’s time for a contest! Yeah, how fun right! I know, I’m like half asleep while typing this and showing like no emotion whatsoever but……….since it’s off the top of my head, here’s what you’re competing for.

  1. a handwritten eshysletters letter written by me, eshy
  2. a set of backslapper(BackSlapper?) stickers which are ridiculously funny and you’re supposed to peel them and slap ’em on someone’s back and they say stuff on them like “I failed my IQ test” or stuff like that.

There’s to be 1 winner that’s it. So here’s what to do to enter, which even if you don’t want to claim prizes, you should still enter.

  • Post a comment on THIS post between now and December 9th. Your comment must include: what you like about eshysletters, what eshysletters could improve on, and what do you want to see in eshysletters. If your comment lacks any of those 3 criteria then it won’t be entered. That’s all you gotta do.

How To Win:

        -I’ll randomly select a comment on December 10th that meets all 3 criteria, whoever I choose will be the winner. Even if you don’t win, I’m going to be reading all the comments and I’d love some feedback so E-N-T-E-R! (that was me as a cheerleader)


       -send an email over to and I’ll reply ASAP. Be sure to write “eshysletters contest” in the subject line.


                 Thanks for hanging out this week. I’d apperciate if you DIDN’T comment on this post unless to enter the contest. Any questions should be sent to the email above. Thanks again for tuning in and reading this post! See ya next time(Dec. 12th)!                                                                                                                                        -love your favorite blogger, eshy,


Dear Whoever…, #44

1 Comment

Dear Whoever Wants To Win A Spooky Book,                                 10/30/2011

     Well before I get to the contest of this month, I have to tell you- Novemeber is the next month. NaNo. National Novel Writing Month on . This is my first year doing both the adult site and the YWP site so I’ll be hella busy writing this month. Bottom line: I’ll do my best to post as much as I can this upcoming month but don’t be too let down or read too much into it if I post two days in a row. I’ll try to type up some posts so I’ll have them nice and ready to publish for November.

     Now for this end of the month’s competition, a random drawing, well a random-ish drawing. Here’s what you do: 1)figure out the right answer to this super cheesy riddle I happen to like, WHY DIDN’T DRACULA HAVE ANY FRIENDS? 2)post a comment on this post including your email address and the answer to the riddle. 3)be entered by November 5th, 11:00am PST. 4)hope the random god of randomness chooses your entry. *NOTE: you will not be entered into the drawing if you have the wrong answer. Winner will be chosen on November 6th. Winner will recieve this book: Eight Tales Of Terror by Edgar Allan Poe. Open to current US citizens only.

     I’d love it if a bunch of people entered. It make things a lot more intresting wouldn’t it? Yep, so enter enter!

P.S. Since this is published on the 30th and Halloween is the 31st, and I won’t be posting again till November 6th, I wish you a Happy Halloween. Collect a lot of candy. And have a crazy good time.   

                                                                                                                                   please enter, eshy,

P.P.S. ENTER ENTER ENTER! The riddle is ridiculously easy and super cheesy. Cheesy like how that last sentence rhymed. Now go and enter and have a nice week!

Dear Whoever…, #37


Dear Whoever Likes Sherlock Holmes or Cares About The September/October Contest,                                                                                               9/30/2011

“Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” -Sherlock Holmes

     If you’ve been following my blog for at least a month then you know we have monthly contests. This month’s contest is a writing contest full of action, Sherlock Holmes style! There’s a specific scene I want you to rewrite. Here it is:

One night-it was on the twentieth of March, 1888-I was returning from a journey to a patient(for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind.

He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own.

His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion.

“Wedlock suits you,” he remarked. “I think, Watson, that you have put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you.”

“Seven!” I answered.

“Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me that you intended to into harness.”

“Then, how do you know?”

“I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and careless servant girl?”

“My dear Holmes,” said I, “this is too much. You would certainly have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can’t imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it out.”

He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together.

“It is simplicity itself,” said he; “my eyes tell me that on the inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile weather, and that a particularly malignant boot-slitting specimen of the London savey. As to your practice, if a gentlemen walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinfer, and a bulge on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce him to be an active member of the medical profession.”

I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his process of deduction. “When I hear you give your reasons,” I remarked, “the thing always appears to me to be ridiculously simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each sucessive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good as yours.”

“Quite so,” he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himself down inro an armchair.

     Rewrite this. Give it a different ending. Throw in a plot twist. Add in a crazy girlfriend…get it? Good. This contest starts today, right now, and will be closed on October 9th, 2011  at 3pm PST. Keep it PG-13 and under 1,500 words. To enter just rewrite that whole thing starting from wherever you want to. Say like the middle or somthing. So rewrite it, then to enter simply post it as a comment on this post. I’ll pick the one I think is best on the week of 9/10/11 and post it. The winner will receive a complete Sherlock Holmes kit including: a magnifying glass, chalk(for a dead body outline), a plastic gun(maybe), and an eshysletters handwritten letter.

     To our July/August winners I apologize because my life took another turn(again) and you won’t be recieving your prizes, however what I will offer is a guest post if you want it. You can guest post about almost anything if you want. I’m so sorry. As for you E.R. I’ll be sending it soon.

                                                 I bid you all good luck and farewell, eshy,


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