This week I’m reading The Hour Behind Midnight, by Clinton J. Boomer, in which Royden Poole, a dwarf (or possibly a midget), gets involved in a conspiracy taking place in the Sideways*, AKA the 25th hour, a place that exists in the second between 11:59:59pm and 12:00:00am, and which can be accessed from locations that are abandoned by or don’t receive much attention from humans, such as your corner video store or my web site.
So this week I reached into my big folder full of rejections (and the occasional acceptance) and pulled out something new: A contract! Arriving as it did in November of 1997, this was, if I remember correctly, my first-ever contract, for a story called “The Short Route” (AKA “My Cousin Susan’s Favorite Story Of Mine Ever”), in which a tenderfoot from Back East discovers that there’s more than just cattle on his first cattle drive. The story appeared in “Vampire Dan’s Story Emporium” a tiny regional magazine published in Syracuse that ran from 1997 to 2001.
So of course writing isn’t ALL rejection letters. At least, one hopes it isn’t. Case in point: One of my favorite short stories, “Singletrack”, which appeared in Greg Gifune’s magazine “The Edge”. And as a special yummy treat for those who have been knocking around the Internet as long as I have, please note the Geocities URL in the letter.
The votes are in and the winner for the next Scene of the Month is (surprise!) The Wolf. Now I know I’ve been teasing everyone with promises of more werewolf mayhem; there isn’t any in this particular scene, but in the very next one after this, the fun really begins. I’m not sayin’ you have to vote for The Wolf; I’m just sayin’.
So I finally got around to seeing “Zombieland”, in which Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg do battle with hordes of undead as well as Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin (in a road trip only marginally less strange than the one she took in “Little Miss Sunshine”). As you probably know from the trailers, Woody and Jesse have much more success against the zombies than against the girls.
This week, I reached into the very back of my alphabetically-organized rejection list folder and pulled out this slip, from Francis Ford Coppola’s “Zoetrope” magazine: