Snow White Snow White's obsession with darkness, with stains, with impurities, had her scrubbing floors and scouring self until the cobblestones were bloody from her knuckles; her moonlight skin gave off a bleachy gleam. She had no mercy for the cobwebs, the dust balls, the mealy balls of matter. She rubbed her fingerprints right off her busy tips; sent her imperfections packing for some place called Normal Heaven. Her wild wringing of washcloths and brillo blasting bathing is what really bugged the queen; finally blanched White's goose.

Annette Marie Hyder is a freelance writer with credits in print and electronic magazine work: conceptualizing and editing as well as writing. In addition to magazine articles, she writes interviews and reviews, essays (for viewpoint columns), short stories, flash fiction and poetry.

Her publishing credits in the preceding genres encompass both print and electronic mediums. Some recent poetry credits include, but are not limited to, Eclectica Magazine, Poems Niederngasse, Conspire, Poets Canvas, Prairie Poetry, Thunder Sandwich, Clean Sheets, Fables, Samsara Quarterly, A Country Rag, Blue Fifth Review, The Horsethief's Journal and The Green Tricycle, with more forthcoming.

She has guest edited for Samsara Quarterly and is a contributing editor for Poems Niederngasse, where you can read her pithy and engrossing reviews on poetry books and chapbooks.

Annette sees life as a poem that is constantly altering its form to accommodate one's world view/experiences: sometimes a sonnet, sometimes haiku, sometimes graffiti on a wall. She believes that in love you should not say it with flowers, you should say it with words. Diamonds, however, are always acceptable.