FINESSE THE PLUG (INTERLUDE)/ALICE D. MILLIONAIRE

Autopsy Submissions Are Open

(Image sourced from the internet but fuck if I know where, memed into a Rainbow Rat by me, Emil Ottoman, 2019? I think?)

Before I start to make a fool of myself I’d like to thank everyone for not telling me to jump off a bridge. Times is tough. Hug ya family.

Also, I’m going to beg you for coin because expenses mount fast when you’re looking to get out of an asbestos riddled hellhole, your landlord is slowing down your fuckin’ renters insurance claim, and you’re finding yourself yelling and immediately apologizing a lot because your brain is about to pop out of its skull and if we don’t get an apartment soon I’ll take the L and light up the whole building like a Christmas tree (if I run out of better living through chemistry) Shit, this should be behind a paywall.

(Maybe I should just offload the whole bullshit there, but I think I got too many thoughts to think and I hate switching tabs while I’m writing)

SUBMISSION WINDOW FOR AUTOPSY REQUESTS OPEN!

MONDAY, YOUR TIME, ANY TIME MONDAY, you are politely invited to send five pages of fiction to me and get put in for the lottery. Not like the Shirley Jackson story… so far. But, the completely non-arbitrary lottery to see which story gets an editorial Autopsy next.

I’d like to thank specimens no. 1, 2, 3, and 4. We had a very successful month. I hope you continue to enjoy. I look forward to reading more of your work.

Send 5 pages (or less, but not MORE. And please don’t set it to Garamond 10pt and compress 15 pages into five? No dirty pool.) of your best, your worst, your darlings in need of slaughter, your confusions, your oppressed linguistic flameouts, your conundrums, your stuck stories, or anything you want to have the possibility of getting an editorial pass during the submission window to emilottoman@gmail.com

Include AUTOPSY in all caps in the subject line, and include your Substack Handle so I can give you the guest byline, because I may be editing your work this week.

I will do my best to at least answer every email in as timely a manner as possible given perpetual state of inferno I’m navigating adrift with no fucking Virgil.

Remember to follow instructions.

Conduct yourself professionally. Follow instructions, hit the window, do the subject, and you’ll be fine. If you eventually want to pub, you’ll have to follow Kafkaesque, seemingly obtuse instructions. Find your way through the Minotaur’s maze, and possibly let it fuck you, before you see print. (And then do it more times than you’d like before you see coin.)

WHAT WAS DOPE THIS WEEK/WILL BE DOPE SOON?

Sandolore Sykes

put

SUM FLUX

, papered and pasted to a concrete wall in Paris, all printed sheets, and live streamed it with an ambient soundtrack by the amazing

Jon T

. I watched live, it was dank. Plans to update us on its decay. I’m excited.

Inigo Laguda

published not one but but two phenomenal essays, the second of which was about language and caused me to have an extended seizure in the comments section. Sorry.

M.P. Fitzgerald - Graphomania

gutted himself in public and made me cry.

I introduced a new audience to the Nine Story Hotel project. And asked people to join in on the fun. Explanation of the project directly below

There’s also a CAST LIST people immediately asked for. (Note the links. Didn’t go out as an email because inbox fatigue.)

All hotel inquiries and bookings should be directed to Mr. Arthur Pinch at: a.pinch.concierge.9storyhotel@gmail.com

Edith Bow

’s Stream of Consciousness Prompt workshop appeared suddenly! And was fun, already producing some great work. Notably that I’ve read

Nick Winney

’s entry, a chilling fast read titled Brownian Motion taken from my three word prompt “metatext, pills, tar”

Zani D

is going to make me finish a collab or kill me. (The collab will be a slaughter…)

Andrew Robert Colom

is going to get me to be the last holdout Albino Mississippi River Skink to give in to the urge to Podcast, but his concept is worth it. I just worry about time limits because obviously as these posts portray, I have issues shutting the fuck up.

I found out some people don’t realize that aside from editing, I write fiction (it’s why I’m a good editor. So, you know, carny barker that I am, read my best fiction of last year.

(I don’t write short stories I write panic attacks.)

George Kalantzis

and I philosophized about how the news is so fucked and why people crave violence when everyone I know who has perpetrated violence prays for peace. (End runaround, asked a vew other veteran buddies. They know not what they ask for.) Shit looks bleak but fuck it, I’m probably inhaling asbestos right now.

elle nash

and GothBookClub returned! She’s great, go subscribe. A novel sold out in the US from

Amphetamine Sulphate

I had to source from the UK via eBay finally arrived, and the streets have been so icy in this ratchet fuckin’ town they’re talking about ousting the mayor (Fuck you, she’s a good mayor and a storm like this hasn’t hit in near two decades.) What the fuck am I, the news.

SUPER COOL LIT FIND OF THE WEEK

Oscar Ruto Chemelil

read at least this piece and if you’ve ever had substance abuse issues or been close to someone who has, get ready for a bruising.

Unrelated

Oh, and I’m apparently going to moderate a flash fiction rap battle, between

Andrew Robert Colom

and

Anthony Marigold

, which sounds cool. I still don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to do, but I’ma do the fuck out of it.

Through Andrew, who I’ve tagged enough, I found

Magnetic

.

And soon I’m announcing an editorial workshop upcoming with

🫀body fluids🦷 - a lit mag

( hearts forever)

I’M PROBABLY CRACKING THE FUCK UP

- FADE