Short Fiction for an Illiterate World

I went to the Tea Party Express’ rally on the Boston Common today. I took some pictures, recorded some videos, and learned a lot. I wrote down the things that I learned so that you, reader, might learn them, too.

Lawyers are, universally, people who could not get into medical school. Related to this: lawyers in government reduce the ‘liberty’ and ‘freedom’ quotients of that government’s people dramatically. This is undesirable.

Lipton black tea in single-cup, individually-wrapped bags adorn the jewelry of the revolutionary class.

You can’t be a racist if you say that you’re not a racist. Read more

Hey! I’m on InkyBlots!

Planned.

• A rewrite of Lake Ontario to make it, uh, better. For now, pretend that nothing related to Titan exists.
• A tale of forbidden love between man and machine.
• Media reprisal against the growing Grandpafriend menace.

Unplanned.

• The Canadian men’s hockey team’s loss to the U.S. WHAT HAPPENED THERE, EH
• Whatever I feel like.

See that search bar below the adspace? Yeah, uh, that thar thingy lets you find happiness– no lie.

(little lie)

Dear Mr. Drake,

Sorry for the six month delay! I am writing to inform you that Fitful Dreams Publishing has decided that your erotic young adult fantasy-horror-fiction manuscript, Bloodfire Knights, is not a good fit for our company. We do believe that you might find an audience through another smaller, less successful organization that is run by slobbering, illiterate troglodytes.

To be honest, we passed Bloodfire Knights around the office for laughs while eating lunch a few days ago. No one is quite sure why your knights are on fire so much, nor how “the blood of vengeful ghosts” can maintain a semi-humanoid shape just because it’s crammed into revealing suits of armor, but what really killed it for us was the impossibly terrible romance between the daughter of the king of Merlinia and B-Positive, the jive-talking blood knight with a secret heart of gold who has emotional issues because he was a latch-key kid. Does a medieval kingdom even have jive or latch-key kids? Whatever.

Kelly, one of the secretaries here, fed your cover page to her dog. It died. I want you to think about that– your title alone was so bad that it offed a Rottweiler. If the Muse might choose to visit you again one day in the future, please shut off your lights, sit still, and wait until she’s gone.

Please excuse any crumbs or salad dressing that might be stuck to this page.

Thanks,

Theresa Maret
Junior Unpaid Intern
Fitful Dreams Publishing

In NYC for a while– no updates! It’s not dead! Swearsies!