Evil Editor's Blog, page 404

Cartoon 481

Caption: Whirlochre

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New Beginning 689

I hate guns. I went to a party when I was sixteen and my friend's maw pulled a revolver on her ex-husband in the dining room. Me and my friends were sitting around the table drinking cheap beer, and right out of nowhere there was this crazy bitch on the loose. She yelled at him to get the hell out of her house, but his arms went up real slow and his fingers crossed behind his head. He leaned back in the chair like it was a joke. All of us kids got up and ran out of that house like we were ste...

Cartoon 480

Caption: Anon.

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Writing Exercise Results . . .

. . . are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which Evil Editor's cab driver is an aspiring author.[image error]

Cab Ride 7

'Where ya headed?'

'5th Avenue. Cinnderellas.'

'The bun bar? Jeez, you're my fourth today.'

'That so?'

'Heck, yeah. Some weird chick in dungarees, then a business guy, then some wasters from one of those grunge bands, yanno, like Nirvana. I'm a people watcher, see.'

'That so?'

'Oh yeah. Ain't nothin' escapes my beady eye, and when I'm done drivin', I write it all out, like a novel. Some day I'm gonna be a famous author.'

'That—'

'Problem is, do I set it in space, in the past, or the dinosaur age? Or ...

Cab Ride 6

"Airport? Gotcha." The cabbie slipped onto the wood anti-sweat cushion. Not that it did any good. The back of the cab smelled of sweaty butt-crack, dog, and recycled beer all topped of with a whiff of vomit--the perfect nosegay for a lousy day.

"Hey, you were at dat Writer's convention didn't you? Well How'd a like to hear my story. Gotta be better than all desperate crying would-be authors crying their eyes out over some guy who kept saying no, no, no. I got a real story. It's fiction, not se...

Cab Ride 5

Just come from the writing conference, 'ave yer, gov? Thought so. Bet that was a barrel of laughs, knowwhatImean? All them authors.

Bet none of them was any quality, right, knowwhatImean gov? Bet none of them had a romantic paranormal thriller, 139,000 words, title "Intercourse with the Vampire", Mrs. 'Oskins at the writing group said it was dead good. Bet none of them 'ad class like that, knowwhatImean gov?

I blame all them foreigners, knowwhatImean gov? All them Europeans. Them bloody Portugu...

Cab Ride 4

Airport, eh? What're you, a pilot?

No.

Baggage handler? Flight attendant? You don't drive one of them carts around with the beeping noise, do you? That'd drive me crazy.

No.

Well shit, what're you goin to the airport for?

I'm a passenger on a plane, you idiot.

Oh yeah, right. Shoulda guessed. Where you headin?

Home.

Here on vacation?

No.

Business?

Yes.

What business?

I'm an editor.

Hey, I'm a writer! My novel's about the world's tallest midget.

Fascinating . . . Uh, how tall is he?

5 foot 9.

Tall. For a midge...

Cab Ride 3

"Lotta traffic coming and going from the hotel today." The cab driver slammed the trunk closed.

Geoffrey murmured something that sounded vaguely like agreement. He didn't want to talk. All he'd done for the past three days was listen to aspiring writers tell him why their novel was the next "big thing". He was tired of smiling and feigning interest, knowing that even though these writers were passionate about their works, they didn't have that elusive ... it.

They rode in blessed silence for to...

Cab Ride 2

God, I was glad the convention was finally over. I slid into the back of the taxi, let go a long sigh of relief, and said one word, "Airport."

Unfortunately, the cab had barely rumbled out into the street before the driver cranked his head around and opened his yap.

"Say, you're that Evil Editor guy, aren't you?"

I gave him the barest of nods.

"It's great to meet you! My name's Kim Luckman, but I hate that name. My friends all call me…"

"Let me guess, Lucky."

"No. Spike," he said, taking off...