After nursing a beer for hours, Karen is trapped in a decades old car on the way to somewhere. Seriously, that’s where we’re at (and only took about 3K words to get there).
“Jesus I think I heard of this. The author who nearly published Kane dropped him because he criticized gay horror.
That must be it, and not say, due to being a writer as bad as Nikita.
She was staring into the darkness at this point, and in her mind were bugbears that were dark, surreal and wandered within her emotions.
So which is it her mind or emotions where the bugbears were running amok. No wonder she was staring into the darkness.
They became infamous for the bullying they would do to self released authors
What have they got against authors who self release? It’s a part of being human! For Nick, it’s the only sex life he has. What? Self publishing? Ohhhhhh, never mind.
The diner was named for a publisher of razorwire fiction named Misty Bobe,
What diner isn’t named after a publisher? None? I thought so.Some definite Oedipublisher issues.
. It had a lot of stone gargoyles and the atmosphere was that of a Horace Wapole novel
More name dropping instead of description! Drink!
. Misty Bobe opened the diner to finance her magazine.
So she named it after herself? Could have said that in the first place. Oh, I forget that would actually make sense.
“We’re here. This is where I get my inspirations for Real Weird
I guess pulling in, parking, getting out of the car and going in wasn’t hint enough they were there.
“It looks like it was decorated by R.L. Stine,” she added.
Here we go again. For fucks sake man, is it Horace Wapole or R.L. Stine? Pick one, would ya?
from writers who like to scare people in the vein of Wes Craven’s New Nightmare,” Michael laughed as they entered the diner.
You’re not even trying now. Lazy is as lazy does.
“I will give you a booth. Will that be smoking or non-smoking?” the waitress greeted them.
Is this a door prize? I’d prefer a non smoking booth, it lessens the chance of my ass catching fire.
She kept thinking she was stepping into the works of A.J. Poe and Nicholas Kane of they were co-writing a story together
Nope, just the deluded mind of a short, fat, closeted troll.
where ghosts of abortions torment a doctor after he finds God.
Because ghosts keep up on things like that.
“This place, it reminds me of the imaginations of the bloody pulps,” she inquires to the waitress.
Yes we know, you’ve mentioned it enough in half a page. Get on with the story.
Karen was whistling the theme from R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps because she was getting the creeps from the atmosphere of the diner.
Lazy, unimaginative fucker.
“So you know the nightmares that are within different fandoms then,” Karen relates as she looks at the copy of the fanzine.
Where’d he pull the fanzine from? His butt, like the rest of this drek?
“They would harass Evangelical Christian writers. They created pages about them and accuse them of monstrous things. Then would try to fuck them out of publications,” he added.
Literally fuck them out of publications? Were they fornicating on a stack of Playboy?
One blogger called him a retard and he challenged this blogger to a fist fight,” Michael added as he was explaining the things he considered for the fanzine.
Retard was being kind. Very, very kind.
“I think I heard about that, some editor who rejected one of his short stories calling it a work of fan fiction when it was Lovecraftian Horror,”
He probably meant it was crap. Again, being kind.
The author sent some angry e-mails to him and suggested he died of AIDS,” Karen responded.
Pretty sure the death certificate would list cause of death. And why would you send a dead man an email telling him what he may have died from? What? typo? There are those top notch editing skills.
“The industry has its horror stories then,” Karen replied.
Of which Pacione is only one, sadly.
“I noticed you have a weird fiction fanzine. Mind of I take a look at it?” the waitress asked as she offered the check.
The dialog is breathtaking. Please take my breath away so I don’t have to read any more.
“He smashed an editor’s car with a sledgehammer charging $10 per hit,”
Can we just smash him for free? It would certainly improve the value of the neighborhood.
“He did even more notorious things. He took a massive shit on a rival editor’s photograph and uploaded the aftermath. S.E. Cox
leaked one of his rejected stories
I know I feel like I’m reading massive shit.
Though we leave the fair Karen in a diner, fear not her fate will be determined in tomorrow’s exciting (doubtful) conclusion!