Evil Editor's Blog, page 411

Feedback Request

The author of New Beginning 636 has posted a new version in the comments there and would like your opinion.

Cartoon 460

Caption: Whirlochre

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

September Book Chat

In the brief history of the Book Chats we've read books by winners of the World Fantasy Award (Sean Stewart), the Rita Award (Jennifer Crusie), the Pulitzer Prize (Robert Penn Warren), the Booker Prize (Salman Rushdie), the Hugo and Nebula Awards (Connie Willis, Neil Gaiman), and the Newbery Medal (Susan Patron and Gaiman). Not to mention other nominations for those awards and hordes of wins of slightly less prestigious awards. In September we take on a Nobel Prize winner: Portugal's José Sarama

Writing Exercise Results . . .

. . . are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which you're giving Evil Editor a lie detector test.

Lie to Me 11

"How the hell does this lie-detector-shitting-thing work, anyway?"

"Rhetorical question?" An eyebrow goes up, a friendly kind of a smirk appears, but she doesn't see it.

"Yes…" She looks up, semi-distracted and annoyed with herself, annoyed with him. "Hell yes, rhetorical. You didn't actually expect me to expect you to tell me how to get the machine to work that would help me find out what the hell's really going on with you, right? I mean, come on, give me some credit, Sparky."

He smil

Lie to Me 10

Lie to Me 9

I, Robot Writer


"Evil, how many toes do you have?"

"All of them," said Evil Editor.

"He's still resisting," said Evil Journalist. "Give him another ten milliliters of truth serum...and another boot to the ribs."

"He's almost flat-lined," said the med tech.

"He was before we started. Do it."

The med tech injected more serum and gave Evil Editor an enthusiastic pounding to his left rib cage.

"Umphh."

"I think you got his attention, and broke another rib," said Evil Journalist. "Evil, how many toes do you

Lie to Me 8

"So, how do you *really* decide what to publish?"

He looked at the book in my hand and blanched—but his lips remained shut. I slowly opened the book to page one and brought it close to his face, so close I could see his eyes instinctively following the words across the page. It only took three pages of reading before he broke and started babbling. I scribbled it down in my notebook as he spoke.

"StopstopstopI'lltellyoueverything! You see, years ago an agent—I think she was Miss Snark—rigged it u

Lie to Me 7

I pull hard on the lever.

Coulda been the simple flick of a switch or the tic-tic of a mouse, but when you're gouging the truth out of a bastard, you need to deploy the Full Contraption.

The twin woks riveted to Evil's ears erect his muttonchops into a thousand volt frizzscape of submission.

'I'm yours,' he drawls, his involuntary slump uncoupling his pince-nez.

I snicker, and do that mortuary thing with his face: a smile, a frown, tongue out. And when he falls off his seat, I pump his limp body ful

Lie to Me 6

I shone all 200 watts of light at Evil's lying face. "Alright, E.E., you know the drill. What's your real name?"

"Evil Editor," said the man strapped to the lie detector. The solitary bulb flashed. "Couldn't you afford a detector with one of those little needles? They're much more entertaining to watch."

"When the W.I.P makes millions, I'll get a nice one. Now, where were you on the night of the twenty-third?"

"Faceless, the Zack Martinez exercise was last week." E.E. squirmed in his seat.

I cou