It's spooky month and to celebrate I'm busting out the Zombie Deimos and the new name. Also a chapter update for Living Like a Princess, arguably the spookiest story on this god forsaken site.
I'm eighteen, I'm in OPP, I live the thug life, I smoke weed every day, I don't take shit from nobody, and I write fanfiction for a show about magical ponies.
New Yorker just emailed me this:
Dear Ben,
Thank you for sending us the enclosed submission. While we’re not able to use it in our publication, we recognize that it indicates promise, especially for the age of its author. Keep writing and reading, and take classes if you can. Best of luck to you.
Warmest regards,
Paul Muldoon, Poetry Editor
Elisabeth Denison, Poetry Coordinator
It's starting to happen. I just submitted two poems to the New Yorker, and plan on submitting them to other literary magazines shortly. Christ, you have no idea how nerve wracking this is. It's like the first time I posted something on here, except with much higher standards. I know my chances of getting even one of them published are extremely slim, but... Damn. Oh well, if it doesn't turn out, I'll take them to some others. Since I'm coming up on my Senior year of high school,
Yeah, I got one today in the mail.
Holy. Shit. I had the original copy of this book before it was reprinted, but I sold it because it was $250. I regretted it since. Well, Dan Luvisi reprinted it, and here it is again. Amazing book, artwork is... just... fucking Christ it's good. Massive backstory with a huge universe, it's just... I'm speechless. Glad to have this thing back.