The Furious Spinner

I just received my contributor's copy of Cemetery Dance magazine with my short story "My Little Angel" inside. (It's issue 52, and I'm assuming it's on the newstands right this second.) Years ago Cemetery Dance published one of my favorite stories "Great Expectations," one in a long line of stories by me that have to do with eating and/or eating disorders. I used to do midnight readings of "Great Expectations" at sf conventions, until I stopped going to them. (Too much smoke, too exhausting, and other reasons I won't bore you with.) Anyway, the story always seemed to go over well. It was reprinted in The Best of Cemetery Dance. My current story in CD, "My Little Angel," begins like this:

"If you thought the world was a good and decent place, you haven't been paying attention. Either that or you're a moron.

"And I'd know. About the world I mean. I've seen a good part of it. At least those cities served by that greying hound of hell called the bus line. Onward and downward. Mom usually in the seat next to me, snoring, sleeping off a drunk or the 'mares. Always on the lookout for a place to settle—to call our home. Then she'd show up, and we were on the run again."

Check it out. I liked this kid. It's my first story in a magazine in a long time. I just haven't been writing much short fiction, and when I do I haven't been very good about sending it out. I don't know why I keep writing from the viewpoint of teenagers. Lately I've just found these characters so interesting: passionate, ironic, smart.

Which reminds me of a conversation I had tonight with my sweetheart.

"Thanks for cleaning out the garlic press for me," I said.

"I didn't do that."

"I know," I said. "I was being ironic."

"I appreciate your irony."

"Was that ironic, too?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"So what's the difference between irony and sarcasm?"

"It's a very fine line," he said. "It's irony if you have an English degree. It's sarcasm if you don't."

"Hmmm. Well, I've got the degree. I guess I'm cleverly ironic then."

"There you go."

...and there I go. It's now 4:30 a.m. I shall try to sleep.

All photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.