Perhaps the universe rewards people who ackowledge their bad reviews as well as their good ones, because soon after the last post went up I received an e-mail from once-web, now-print magazine Necrotic Tissue, accepting my story Caretaker in the Garden of the Dreams.
Caretaker is a surrealistic slice of dark fantasy, one of the few times I've managed to turn one of those demented ideas that sometimes hit you when you're trying to get off to sleep into something like a workable piece of fiction; for anyone who's read Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, a member of my last writer's group summed it up perfectly as "Merv Pumpkinhead in hell".
Not only were Necrotic Tissue good enough to accept it and proffer cash money for it, I'm promised my very own Necrotic Tissue T-shirt. Just the thing for if I ever get invited for dinner by The Queen!
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