1246. Oh God! No one knows who I was

I could’ve solved this conundrum if I’d been asked when I was alive. Whole chapters have been written about me. Was I (the author of the stunning novel “Tickle the Moon”) also the poet who published the anonymous collection of poetry called “If you can’t rhyme then shut the fuck up”?

I have never used such a word in my life, let alone write it down. And yet, this could perhaps provide a clue to the poet’s anonymity. If I wouldn’t use the word “rhyme” in real life, then perhaps I was using it to disguise my identity.

I might add in passing that no one has questioned the authorship of “Quagmire behind the cowshed” by Lou Fuchs, even though it’s a fairly well known fact that Fuchs was my mother’s maiden name, and one she was pleased to get rid of. This collection of short stories has rightly taken its place on many a library’s dustless shelf – to say nothing of the digital overload it still causes in many an otherwise cheerful home.

So all in all, to sum up, and at the risk of repeating myself, I could’ve solved this conundrum if I’d been asked when I was alive. But I wasn’t.

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