Our resident Statsmeister, Nik Eveleigh — as he doesn’t give a fig feel free to mangle the pronunciation of his fine family name any which way you like for instance try Evil-Eye, Evel-Eeee or in Afrikaans I am reliably informed, Ever-LICCCCHHHHHHH — has been busy tweaking his spreadsheet.
Cape Town this time of year is a trifle warm I understand, so we mustn’t judge. However, for once Mr. Ever-LICCCCHHHHHHH’s obsession with figures — I mean extremely useful hobby — has produced a stat worth dwelling on for more than 0.37 seconds.
A submission we received at Literally Stories in the past couple of days tipped the total word count for all said submissions over the one million mark.
Yeah. I know. I should have warned you to sit down first.
Folk as far afield as Reykjavik and Rotherham, Berlin and Barnsley are reeling in the face of this earth-shattering revelation and no doubt wondering if in fact it was their story that triggered this sensational milestone and what exactly this means to them.
In an ideal world a pop-up box should have appeared on the ‘lucky’ author’s screen informing them that as the writer of the one millionth word to be read by the Literally Stories Editors they had won a holiday for two to the Seychelles.
Sadly, Pop-Up blockers being what they are these days thrills such as that are a thing of the past.
What hasn’t changed is Monday’s promptness at the beginning of our literary week…
which saw the third instalment in the Adventures of Alfred Klumpner — aka A Lost Cause Part 3.
Adam Kluger’s alter ego hasn’t given up.
You will be glad to know he remains busy goading the ‘Sultan’ to respond with even greater helpings of pithiness.
Somewhat amusing, Alfred, but also extremely juvenile and obnoxious. Honestly, way too busy to continue future correspondence. Good day to you. A more productive use of your time might be to spend it editing your work (which seems full of a variety of basic grammatical and formatting errors – never good when you’re trying to convince people to pick it up) and targeting places specifically.
Elena Croitoru was the first of three débutantes on LS in Week 58.
On Tuesday her MC had a severe attack of the munchies in Hungry Since She Left.
On a couple of occasions, she woke up in the middle of the night and caught me downstairs eating steak or curry but she never thought anything of it. It was difficult during weekends though. After she had just moved in, she was busy with her painting classes but as soon as the term finished, it became difficult to come up with excuses.
Unsettling, darkly observed dystopian fare indeed in this sub-genre blend of science fiction and fantasy known as Slipstream just the ticket for a PKD. Kurt Vonnegut, Margaret Atwood fan like yours truly.
Christa Carmen’s protagonist Clementine Hamilton majored in Psychology and yet would readily admit there was no diagnosis that described her condition in A Deal With the Devil.
With the help of therapists, Clem determined that her drinking was not co-morbid with depression or anxiety; once sober, she did not find it difficult to abstain from alcohol. However, once committed to sobriety, it was only a few months before a new season of discontent blew in to settle over the landscape of Clementine’s mind.
A fine début that bust a few LS reading records. Welcome Christa.
Few writers on LS do psychopaths better than Hugh Cron. Stop blushing Mr. Cron — credit where credit’s due!
“Oh my dear, I wouldn’t have said that. Look at him now, he is looking around your living room to see what else he can find. Look at him, he looks like a squirrels tail. Oh dear, he is pausing. I think he is thinking about the shape of the big piece of glass that was smashed when we came in. That’s it, isn’t it? You are thinking about the glass.”
“I like glass.”
If that isn’t enough then read the rest of All About the Truth and you’ll see what I’m getting at!
The final newcomer of the week, Nikki Boss, could perhaps teach Hugh a thing or two about nasty judging by her LS bow, Mouse, Party of One.
Fast-food lovers look away now.
“Roland!” It’s the new waitress calling me. The little one; she’s cute. “Roland, you got my order up?” she stands with her hip out, glaring at me. I wonder what she would do if I lobbed one a them dead guys at her. Or handed her one on a plate to serve her retard customers.
Welcome Nikki and no thanks I’ll pass on the ketchup… and the burger, too, if it’s all the same, but I might just give your story another spin.
Keep sending in your stories good people of cyberspace.
We will only publish the very best, those that reach the bar we have set, as we would not be doing anyone including the writer any favours by accepting anything less than the best.
And don’t be afraid of rejection. We are spending a little bit more time of late collating editorial comment to include in the dreaded rejection emails. If you see anything in your ”… we encourage you to submit to us again… ‘ email’ then please take that as further encouragement to give it another go.
Header photograph: By Discott (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons