“He’s just a mixed up monster. Because he has crab arms, and an oval body and he has two ears that are, like, from an animal, I think? Is that right? Yeah. Probably a dog sticking up its ear, only it’s not pointy. He’s a monster, he destroys towns so his ears are always up because he’s angry all the time. Well, he’s not really angry, he’s just really mean.”
“He’s two-headed, and they both have one leg to make two. The one on the left has really big eyes and is really freaky looking, and the one on the right side is really freaky too, but you can choose which one you like better. I think I like the first one better, because he’s cooler looking, but the one the right looks dumber, doesn’t he? There’s a little town in front of them, it’s so small that you can’t even see it, and they’re mostly just that kind of monster.”
“A boy thinks this little girl is cute, and you can see little hearts coming from him, and I made an arrow so you know who he’s in love with, and then he walks over (but I didn’t put that on the board), and she turns HUGE and has razor sharp teeth and eats him! It’s really cool in the picture. Because she’s a monster, she was just in disguise. She has a little button to push her big and small and to disguise her mean eyes and razor sharp teeth. The boy will just live in her stomach and then he’ll turn into poop. You can fall in love with this girl. Just don’t get near her.”
“Which one is your favorite in all of them?”
For those of you with a vested interest in the Subterranean Magazine issue I’m editing, I’m happy to say that the stories have had their first round of copy edits and have been sequenced, I’ve written my editorial afterward and sent the whole wad — 59,300 words or so — to the Subterranean offices (which to my knowledge are not, in fact, underground). From there the stories will undergo a second round of copyedits, after which other people do mystical, magical things and at the end of it a magazine appears. I think the process involves sacrifices to Chango, the god of Santeria. You never know. Anyway, that’s where we are.
Reminder also to tune in here tomorrow for the world premiere of Nick Mamatas and Eliani Torres’ short story “Who Put the Bomp?” You can only read it here. And if by some chance you read it elsewhere I want to you to go to the house of the people displaying it and beat them with a hammer.
Well, no, actually, I don’t. That’s just a lawsuit just waiting to happen. But at least glare at them disapprovingly. Maybe purse your lips, too. That’ll make ’em crumble in shame.
Small signs from above that you’re moving right along through the demographic python: Your seven-year-old wearing a twenty-year-old t-shirt that you wore when you were sixteen. Yup, that’ll do it.
“Webb Day,” incidentally, being the inter-class competition my high school does every year. Our class won that year. Because we rock, you see. Indeed, our rockination so saturates the shirt that Athena can’t help but throw up the horns! Yeah, maybe I should wash that shirt. 20-year-old rockination does get a little gamy.