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About Deviant Wilson TaylorMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 3 Years
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Hi there!

My name is Wilson Taylor and I'm open for a wide variety of writing commissions.

My background includes editorials, critiques, script-writing and light copy text. I'm available for steady work and/or commission. My biggest project to date is a currently in process comic book mini-series entitled The Dolridge Sacrament which is available on Comixology. Here are some examples of my writing.

Comic Book/ Copy Text:

Comic Book Script:


I use MadameRuby pricing guidelines which can be found here:…

Thank you for your consideration, I can be found here but I will respond much quicker by email.
My email address is

Hope to hear from you soon!

Mature Content

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I just walked through the desert counting every sand grain.
There’s dust in my ears and there’s heat on my brain
I am Tyson Grey and at my grandmother’s bed
Just an hour ago, Gram-Gram told me she was dead.

She told me with her limp  hands, lifeless and icy
And with the way her eyes closed ever so politely
“Hey,” I heard, “Mrs. Grey, are you awake yet?”
My wife said at the foot of my grandmother’s bed.

She’s finally gone, the crusty old hag.
And they sealed her away in a dusty old bag.
My troubles were over, my life could begin
If only it didn’t have to start over again.

The lawyer spoke coldly and with cold precision
He told my grandmother’s final decision
“She left you both nothing, it’s all hidden away”
I was consequently left with nothing to say.

”So that’s it then?” I stated “I don’t get a cent.”
“And every day for the past twenty months was misspent?”
“I cleaned all her dishes and I walked her stupid dog!”
“I cleaned out her closet and her sink when it clogged!”

“I cleaned up her house and her car and her face”
“I cleaned up all over the buttfucking place!”
“I gave her my hands and my help and my time!”
“And you’re telling me she didn’t give me one fucking dime?!”

The lawyer’s eyes lowered and were filled with disgust
Like a lawyer has any right to think me unjust.
He didn’t wipe oatmeal off of that wretched cunt’s skin
But he’s looking at me like I offended him.

“She managed her will poorly” he said under his breath
“She must not have been the type to think about death.”
“It’s not in her bank, so it must be in her home”
“And with that information, I’ll leave you alone.”

Gram Gram had bought a house in the desert
A beautiful two-story surrounded by dirt
So I decided to drive there one last fucking time
To pick up the paycheck that’s rightfully mine.

My wife stayed at home, she said she had plans
She cares nothing for money when work is at hand
So I’d wing it alone, search the whole house myself
And tear down ever table and pantry and shelf.

Hours had passed, minutes flew by
I searched until the sun had completely left the sky
But I still had found nothing, had no idea why
Until a crumpled letter finally caught my eye.

“Dear John,” It began “spent a lifetime counting money”
“He never cried at what’s sad or laughed at what’s funny.”
“Everything was cost, if not revenue”
“He’d scream at me if had the lights on in the afternoon.”

“Stop wasting the water, it doesn’t grow on trees”
“And stop buying clothing whenever you please”
“When I told him it was time to stop counting pennies”
“To recognize what was enough or too many”

“He went just about mad and threw off his jacket”
“He yelled and he screamed that he’d just about had it!”
“You just want it more to spend on more doodads”
“And clothing and jewels and I won’t be had!”

“So he buried it away, or half of it at least”
“He feverishly dug in the backyard like a beast”
“What nickels I have left are used to keep me alive”
“For my husband never truly wanted me to thrive.”

“It’s out there somewhere, but the desert can keep it.”
“I hope whoever finds it is someone who needs it.”
“That money drove him mad, so I say good riddance.”
“I’ll be alive and happy with my poor old woman’s pittance.”

I wanted to shout and tear off my fingers
And not for a second longer did I dawdle or linger
I went to work digging in the dirt right out back
Though the moon had come up and the sky was pitch black.

I’ve dug a hundred holes and not gone home yet
For I do need to find what I’m going to get
But I’m quickly losing faith, almost ready to say
That it’s deep in the ocean, lost and cast away

Cause it’s not in the back yard, I’ve made sure of that
Unless it’s at bedrock where it’s hard and it’s flat.
Maybe tomorrow I will check in the side yard
Because all I’m digging now is what’s stiffened and hard

My name is Tyson Grey and I’m starting to find
That there’s sand in my brain and cash in my mind
But I’ll waste another day, I tell myself with dread
Just like I had before at the foot of my grandmother’s bed.
So I got published.

Right here, actually.…

I'm serious, I now have a book (an issue one comic book) that you can buy. Issue two comes out March 5th.

For anyone still following me after all this time, thanks for the support.

My artist is :iconmaiagross:, she can be found at

My tumblr is


Mr-FeverPitch's Profile Picture
Wilson Taylor
United States
"I... am a writer"
-Q (Wonderboys) stating the utterly trite with surgical comedic precision.

Purpose is an odd concept, one sadly that is not afforded to all people. To some, purpose is the relaxation of knowing that a quiet night with the television tonight means they can face work tomorrow. To others, knowing that some day they will have a child is purpose. Some people find purpose in the children they already have and just making sure they come out okay.

My purpose is writing the stories that haven't been written yet. I don't think I can be content until I've brought each story to the world in some shape or another.

Not until The Lonely Hearts Club sees the light of day.
Not until I bring The Purge to the masses.
Not until Midnight Broadcast is being thought about, discussed.
Not until Zygomatic makes an audience rethink safety and comfort.
Not until Death To The Kurogai makes one person rethink infatuation.


This alternate account (replacing my other, :iconnoyoucantmesswithme: ) is here because my other is so bloated with early, bad art, embarrassing storylines and I need somewhere to start posting the second draft of my novel where it has a chance of getting seen again. I think it may be the only chance I have of forcing myself to see this project through. This project 4 years in the making, and I'm only now beginning the second draft.

So enjoy The Lonely Hearts Club.

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Felina180 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2014  Student General Artist
MEOW!! ^//u//^  YOU'VE BEEN HUGGED!! *Hug*kaomoji set 1 3/19 
Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)
1- You can hug the person who hugged you!
2- You -MUST- hug 10 other people, at least!
3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their page!
4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away!
Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am 1.
If You Get 7 Back You Are Loved!
1-3 you're bad friend
4-6 you're an ok friend
7-9 you're a good friend
10-& Up you're loved
Septemberbug Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you so much!
twitchiness Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2012  Professional Traditional Artist
Mr-FeverPitch Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2012
... There doesn't seem to be anything there for me. I mean, I WAY appreciate it, and I could still be talked into it, but... hmm...
twitchiness Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2012  Professional Traditional Artist
maia posted this. xD I was with her when it happened. And we didnt read the details till AFTER we posted it XDD
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