Polluto: The Anti-Pop Culture Journal, Issue #4…

This is a fine-looking import, that’s all I have to say.  A Spectrum Fantastic Arts award-winning, Anti-Pop, culture-clashing literary magazine which kicks you in the balls at light speed.  This magazine breaks the rules, and then some.  The quality of material is remarkable.  It’s a themed journal, and the running theme for Issue #4 is: QUEER & LOATHING IN WONDERLAND.  Edited by Adam Lowe, and distributed by Dog Horn Publishing (www.doghornpublishing.com).  Creative Director is Michael Dark.

LIMITED EDITION – VERY FEW IN NUMBER

POLLUTO: THE ANTI-POP CULTURE JOURNAL

 -Issue #4, Winter 2009-

Polluto #4

Polluto #4

SUBSCRIBE HERE: http://www.polluto.com/subscribe

TABLE OF CONTENTS: 

‘Alice in the Palace’ by Dave Migman
‘Parasol Clerks’ by Rhys Hughes
‘Jeanne’ by Steve Redwood
‘Mouse Diary’ by Daniel Wilson
‘Queer & Loathing on the Yellow Brick Road’ by Deb Hoag
‘A Shade of Yellow’ by Alex MacFarlane
‘Beta Child, Gamma Child’ by Malon Edwards
‘Paint the Town’ by Anne Pinckard
‘Sweet Adult Cell’ by Ray Succre
‘Beauty and the Beast’ by Micci Oaten
‘Heart of Cement’ by Lawrence Dagstine
‘The Bears in the Wood’ by Jim Steel
‘The Androidgenous Zone’ by Andrew Hook & Allen Ashley
‘Velcro Hurt’ by Ernesto Sarezale
‘The Day Hermeneutics Died’ by David McLean
‘Willow Within’ by D. W. Green
‘A Long Hard Look’ by Rhian Waller
‘On Biting Roy’ by Janis Butler Holm
‘Live Without a Net’ by RC Edrington
‘Mona and the Machine’ by Matthew Longo
‘Backseat Ballet’ by Mark Howard Jones
‘Voom and Bloom’ by Frank Burton
‘Alice in Agony Pink’ by Michelle Mead
‘ADD’ by Chris Patton
‘Shedding’ by Rhian Waller

Plus art from: Elaine Borthwick, Ignacio Candel, Luke Drozd, Kurt Huggins & Zelda Devon, Dave Migman, Flavia Testa-Lytle

Purchase direct from: http://www.polluto.com/purchase.html

Previous Issues have featured such names as: Jeff VanderMeer, Michael Moorcock, Rhys Hughes, Steve Redwood, and MORE! This is a Limited Edition magazine.  500 copies of the paperback, 100 numbered hardback!  Once it sells out, you won’t be able to get it again.  My short story could best be described as “extreme”, and matches the theme of the issue.  Hurry and get your copy today.  There’s a lot of fine authors here.

The Anti-Pop Culture Journal

Polluto: The Anti-Pop Culture Journal

 LIMITED EDITION – ORDER NOW

BOUND TO BE A COLLECTIBLE!

ORDER HERE: www.polluto.com

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Lawrence Dagstine: “Christmas Aftermath 2008…”

In the spirit of wintertime holidays from years past, I decided to go ahead and do an aftermath blog entry  for Christmas Day 2008: holiday hand-me-downs, boys and toys, or cool gifts from Yuletides’ past.  From Star Wars to Doctor Who to Matchbox and, of all things, Puppets.  There’s some cool play things here to see, new and old.  Some things even you might remember as a kid.  Unopened presents and a few stocking stuffers, too.  Not to mention this past year’s tree, a few ornaments, and the delicious meal that I cooked; plus, a recipe.  But first, the night before Christmas…

The Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree

The Presents

The Presents

The Puppets

The Puppets

The Decorations

The Decorations

The Stocking Stuffers

The Stocking Stuffers

The Christmas tree stands about four feet, nothing spectacular, and the puppets are by Melissa & Doug’s (coming soon to book promo videos near you).  The stockings were a very interesting investment.  Something like two for five, but purchased the day after Christmas 2007.  It’s amazing what you can find for practically nothing once the holidays are over.  The Sesame Street theme was cute, too.  We had lights up in the kitchen, and hanging snowmen and Santa ornaments in various places around the house — some attached to magnets — made of wire and a clay mixed with ceramic.  These were inexpensive, too.  Next, we have the meal

Baked Ziti w. Hint of Chicken Casserole

Baked Ziti w. Hint of Chicken Casserole

Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Cayenne Pepper Chicken

Cayenne Pepper Chicken

I didn’t make the baked ziti — it was out of this world! — but there was a lot, and it had a hint of “chicken casserole” in it, if you know what I mean.  The side dish this year was garlic mashed potatoes, and I cooked my own specialty in the picture above: Cayenne pepper chicken, spicy and delicious! Having been to Santa Fe, New Mexico, I know how to give it just the right flair.  Yes, you could use a barbecue marinade.  Hey, even a mesquite.  But why use a mesquite when you don’t have to?

The recipe is very simple, and after you burn your mouth eating it — have a lot of water handy — you’ll still be glad you broiled it because of that flavor.  Here is what you will need, and this is good if you’re cooking for the whole family and want leftovers.   As for ovens, your typical gas range is fine.

-Two big oven pans/trays for broiling. Layer them with aluminum foil.

-32 to 40 Perdue Oven Roaster drumsticks AND thighs.

-Defrost chicken well, then lightly salt (garlic works, too).

-Two hours later use cayenne pepper seasoning on pans/trays.

-Dip bottom of chicken in cayenne pepper seasoning, then spread it across the top layers heavily.  You want spice!

-Put the thigh/drumstick tray (or pans) in oven.  Make sure the top of chicken looks nice and reddish-orange.

-Preheat oven to 425 or 450 degrees, cook for 45 to 50 minutes.

-Check on it while it’s cooking.  45 to 50 minutes is well done.

-Shut stove off.  Let cool.  Sit down.  Eat, and Enjoy…

Now for the hand-me-downs

Big Guy and Little Guy

Big Guy and Little Guy

Star Wars and Dad's Toys

Star Wars and Dad's Toys

And these would be from my own personal collection…  A few of what’s left, anyway.  I’ve collected Star Wars for 30 years now.  Yup, since I was a toddler.  On the left is a talking Darth Vader stuffie, the Empire Strikes Back action figure Bossk the Bounty Hunter (behind him is another packaged figure; Han Solo in Hoth Gear).  Next  to that you have the Hammerhead figure, Roron Corobb (The Clone Wars cartoon).  Behind Roron Corobb, there’s Luke Skywalker, dressed in ceremonial garb from the ending of A New Hope (when he received the medal for destroying the Death Star).  Over on the right, yes, that would be the original 1983 Rancor Monster and Darth Vader Action Figure Holding Case.  Inside are TONS of figures made between the years 1977 and 2007. 

Last but not least, the blue phone box in the center is Doctor Who’s time machine, the TARDIS.  It blinks, it flashes, it makes sounds, and David Tennant’s voice emits from it.  It also doubles for a coin bank.  I used to have a couple of Dapol ‘Who’ figures and a Tom Baker doll back in the day, too.  All this and more will be handed down to my boy when he gets a little older.  Unless he wants to trade his 2008 Hess truck, mind you. 

Then came Christmas Day (or Boys and Toys)…

Wakey, Wakey, it's Christmas Morning

Wakey, Wakey, it's Christmas Morning

Oh snap! Santa was here!

Oh snap! Santa was here!

Decisions, decisions.  Which shoud I open first?

Decisions, decisions. Which shoud I open first?

Betty Crocker 43-piece play food set

Betty Crocker 43-piece play food set

Another shot of the Betty Crocker set

Another shot of the Betty Crocker set

Opening the other gifts - 2008 Hess Truck (grandpa)

Opening the other gifts - 2008 Hess Truck (grandpa)

Never too young to write - Leap Frog Phonics Writing Desk

Never too young to write - Leap Frog Phonics Writing Desk

Matchbox talking pirate/skull mountain playset

Matchbox talking pirate/skull mountain playset

Toy ATM Machine and Toy Shopping Food Cart

Toy ATM Machine and Toy Shopping Food Cart

Animal Planet Remote Control Tarantula - I loved this!

Animal Planet Remote Control Tarantula - I loved this!

Some MORE Mr. Men books by Roger Hargreaves

Some MORE Mr. Men books by Roger Hargreaves

2008 Limited Edition HESS Truck w. snow tractor (from Grandpa)

2008 Limited Edition HESS Truck w. snow tractor (from Grandpa)

Christmas toys and books

Christmas toys and books

Noon spelling lesson

Noon spelling lesson

Time to visit the relatives

Time to visit the relatives

Other gifts for the 2008 holiday included a Curious George Doll and children’s book set, a few Berenstain Bears children’s books, a plush recliner for toddlers from Land of Nod, a Remote Control Spider (which I think I already posted), a Little Tykes Piggie flashlight, and for me, books yet to be read.  There were some small NERF balls, too.  However, the Pillsbury Doughboy is not new.   Very old school.

At the end of the day it’s time to finish off the season right… Watching the Doctor Who Christmas Special via BBC satellite, like every year, or on a Web forum tonight.  David Tennant and David Morrissey in the long-awaited episode: THE NEXT DOCTOR.

Cheers,

And Happy Holidays!

Lawrence R. Dagstine

Written Word Magazine, November 2008… (appearances)

The issue is a bit late, but my story DEPARTURE FLIGHT is currently up at The Written Word Magazine, Issue No. #15.  The Web-based publication is also connected with Rebel Dawn Creative Force and Masterpiece Comics. 

WRITTEN WORD ONLINE MAGAZINE #15 – November/December 2008

Written Word Magazine #15

Written Word Magazine #15

 www.writtenwordmag.com

Featuring work by: William Markly O’Neal, C.A. Ellis, Kate Smith, Christopher Hivner, Billy Wong, Lawrence Dagstine, Dudgeon, Byron D. Howell, Roger Haller, and Morgen Kirby.  Edited by Ace Masters and Barb McCaffrey.

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Aoife’s Kiss #27, December 2008… (Online Version!)

Aoife’s Kiss #27 is now available (or up should I say).  In both print and online format.  For December 2008, I would be in their Web component with a juicy new werewolf story.  The artwork for this edition is entitled “Athanor” by Mitchell Davidson Bentley (www.atomicflystudios.net).  Check it all out below.

AOIFE’S KISS #27; DECEMBER 2008

ONLINE EDITION – Edited by Tyree Campbell

"Athanor" by Mitchell Davidson Bentley

ONLINE VERSION: http://www.samsdotpublishing.com/aoife/main.htm

BUY THE PRINT: http://www.samsdotpublishing.com/purchasecenter.htm

Featuring stories by: Lawrence R. Dagstine, Diane Gallant, Richard Jones, Jamie Killen, and Andrew Knighton

Since it’s the end of the year, and there’s the possibility of the story making it into a Sam’s Dot anthology, you can vote for your favorite tale on the same page.  Enjoy.

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

SATIRICA: An Anthology of Satirical SF… (Now on Radio!)

The most promising-filled anthology of science fiction is now available from Cowboy Logic Press, and it’s slowly creeping up in bookstores.  With over 110,000 words and 24 stories set in futuristic societies, post-apocalyptic dystopias, and more! Featuring pro authors such as Steven J. Dines and David Thorpe (Harper Collins Children’s Books). It’s also available on Amazon.

SATIRICA: An Anthology of Satirical Speculative Fiction

Published by Cowboy Logic Press; Edited by Dudgeon

Last I looked, the book was riding at around 900,000 on Amazon; I’d like to see that number drop below the 100,000 mark again.  I’d especially like to congratulate one of the book’s authors who helped get SATIRICA carried in the state of Wyoming and has been interviewed on radio.  Major thanks go out to Bill Housley, who can be friended at: http://www.myspace.com/sfandf 

Other promotion efforts include the Midwest, Canada (British Columbia & Winnipeg), Great Britain, and NYC locals Jason K. Chapman and Myself.  But Bill, nobody’s done a better job so far than you.  Thank you!

Bill Housley in the Unita County Herald:

http://www.uintacountyherald.com/fe_view_article.php?story_id=1664&page_id=75&heading=0 

Bill Housley on Evanston Radio:

http://www.evanstonradio.net/calendar/calendar_day/2750320/2008-11-7.htm

Bill Housley is the author of the very topical piece, “Another Man’s Terrorist”.  A science fiction writer, he can often be found at Jim Baen’s place (the JBU slush). 

Other New Entries: “Books & Anthos”

The Willows Magazine, Autumn 2008… (Reminder Post!)

Just a follow-up/reminder post that THE WILLOWS MAGAZINE Fall Issue (September-October) is now on sale.  Featuring Lovecraftian-styled tales of terror, Neo and Post-Victorian stories, enchanting tales of dark fantasy, steampunk culture, and other weird fiction delights.  Get your copy TODAY!

THE WILLOWS MAGAZINE

September-October 2008

The Willows Magazine, September/October 2008

The Willows Magazine, September/October 2008

 www.thewillowsmagazine.com

Featuring Fiction by: Sarah Monette, G.D. Falksen, Lawrence Dagstine, Eric S. Brown, Robey Jenkins, and Michelle Pribbernow. With non-fiction & reviews by Reyna Sparby and Skadi meic Beorh. Edited by Ben Thomas.

PAST ENTRY: https://lawrencedagstine.com/2008/10/22/the-willows-magazine-october-2008-now-available/

Also available, and with much more merchandise coming soon, from The Willows…Sundries! Own your favorite Steampunk/Victorian-styled items.  Wear and support your favorite authors: http://www.zazzle.com/wrathofposeidon

 

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

SF CROWSNEST.COM Reviews Jupiter #22…

And there’s yet another positive review of my story ‘A Virtual Affair’, from Issue #22 of Jupiter, over at Stephen Hunt’s: SF CROWSNEST.COM (www.sfcrowsnest.com).  Like SF REVU, this would be another good venue dedicated to science fiction and fantasy.  Conducted by Rod MacDonald, you can find the review link below…

SF CROWSNEST.COM Reviews:

Jupiter #22 (Harpalyke)

jupiter-222

READ HERE: http://www.sfcrowsnest.com/articles/books/2008/nz13228.php

ORDER JUPITER #22: www.jupitersf.co.uk

OTHER REVIEW: https://lawrencedagstine.com/2008/11/05/sf-revu-reviews-jupiter-22-and-tales-of-the-talisman/

I’ll add SF Crowsnest to Author Resources.  Other than that, over the past three weeks I’ve nabbed another six story acceptances for various publications throughout 2009.

Other New Entries: “Author Resources”

SF REVU reviews Jupiter #22 and Tales of the Talisman…

I received word that SF REVU (www.sfrevu.com), reviewed two magazines featuring stories of mine in it.  For those of you unfamiliar with SF REVU, they’re a web-based publication devoted to SF industry news, reviews, interviews, book plugs, and more.  I see them as a smaller, online version of LOCUS.  Review links, magazine issues, and ordering info below:

SF REVU Reviews Jupiter:

Jupiter XXII: Harpalyke – October 2008
Edited by Ian Redman
Cover Artist: R.J. Bartrop
Review by Sam Tomaino
Jupiter  ISBN/ITEM#: 1740-2069
Date: 26 October 2008

REVIEW: http://www.sfrevu.com/php/Review-id.php?id=8321

ORDER HERE: www.jupitersf.co.uk

PAST ENTRY: https://lawrencedagstine.com/2008/10/08/jupiter-sf-october-2008-issue-22-appearances/

SF REVU Reviews Tales of the Talisman:

Tales of the Talsiman – Volume 4 – Issue 1
Edited by David Lee Summers
Cover Artist: Laura Givens
Review by Sam Tomaino
Hadrosaur  ISBN/ITEM#: 1558-0377
Date: 26 September 2008

REVIEW: http://www.sfrevu.com/php/Review-id.php?id=8171

ORDER HERE: www.talesofthetalisman.com

PAST ENTRY: https://lawrencedagstine.com/2008/10/12/tales-of-the-talisman-september-2009-3rd-acceptance/

I highly recommend reading Jupiter and Tales of the Talisman… Both fine magazines now going into their fifth years with a slight modicum of success.  As for SF Revu, I’ll add them to Author Resources.

Other New Entries: “Author Resources”  

Lawrence Dagstine: Halloween Aftermath…

Boo! So another year has passed, and another Halloween.  Spent about four and a half hours outdoors trick-or-treating with the little one and extended family.  It was a beautiful day in New York.  Got a haircut before the festivities began so I’d be sure to scare the dickens out of everybody.  We got a lot of candy this year, compared to last.  Better candy, too.  Last year we found Hall’s cough drops mixed in with the Tootsie Rolls.  Last stop, as always, was Starbucks.  Pumpkin spice lattes and caramel salt-flavored hot chocolate.  I dressed my son up this year as a skunk; his cousins were either ninjas or Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (I think that’s what they were).   

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

After my son finally went to bed, it was time to break out the movies.  On Halloween, it’s a tradition at my house to watch horror flicks.  But this year there were only two.  First, THE STRANGERS Unrated Edition on DVD.  Then, from Asia, SILK.  Silk wasn’t that bad.  It took place in either Taipei or Taiwan; I was exhausted, so I may have to watch it again to better understand it.  It focused around scientific and paranormal-based disturbances. By the way, MOVIE SPOILERS ahead.

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

Halloween 2008

However, I was very disappointed in The Strangers.  I mean, this stalker-esque movie barely even creeped me out.  There were the people with the masks, the sense of tension around the house.  But that was about it.  Scott Speedman and Liv Tyler were decent as a couple who want to get married but don’t due to relationship problems, and we see them staying at a friend’s place in a rural area for the night.  The movie is built mainly around tension, echoing sounds, incidental noises, and low-key dialogue rather than a film with a well-grounded plot.  Actually, there is no plot.  And I hate it when someone puts together a good film backdrop and ruins it with a lousy script (or lack thereof).  Even worse, if it’s an unbelievable one… but this was believable.  The near-ending was very interesting.  Did the director shoot the near-ending on purpose? Seconds away from being stabbed to death (horribly, might I add), Speedman sees Tyler wearing his engagement ring and she says I love you… As if it’s telling us life is short, so say “I do” to that loved one, because you might get tied up and killed by masked stalkers or nutcases tomorrow.  There was definitely an analogy there.

Otherwise, that was pretty much the whole film.  Yeah, there were some sick scenes.  If you like movies such as… oh, High Tension or Cabin Fever, this might be up your alley.  Rent it, don’t buy it.  Cheers.

Other New Entries: “Family Album”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 2008… (Trick or Treat!)

From Speculative Fiction Writer/Horror Author, Lawrence Dagstine…

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Wishing you a wholesome day of chills and thrills, and other candy-corned frills!

Happy Halloween 2008

Happy Halloween 2008

October 31st, 2008

TRICK OR TREAT!

Other New Entries: “Fiction Sample”

Lawrence Dagstine: Hardcore Halloween Story Bash…

HARDCORE HALLOWEEN Story Bash…

HORROR STORY: “Victimizer”

by Lawrence R. Dagstine

Suggested Rating: 18 and Older, for sexual & extreme content.

[“We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones” ]

                                                                       -Stephen King

“VICTIMIZER” by Lawrence R. Dagstine

 

If someone were to ask me if my life has changed dramatically, I’d have to say that it has in only one way, and it came years after my victims requested it.  If they were to ask me what I do for a living, I’d tell them that my job entailed a certain obsession of mine, and I treat my work with great enthusiasm, immersing myself in it.

Who am I? Well, I could be any one of millions of people with occupations just like you, living in any small town or city around the country.  I could be the janitor in your child’s elementary school, the guy who drives the ice cream truck at your neighborhood playground, the man behind the counter at your local video store, or the 7-11 clerk who works the Slurpee machine.  I could even be a police officer retiring soon with a nice pension.  I might have a family that I come home to and love just as much as you—we’re all animals or creatures with carnal desires when you look at the big picture—which kind of makes us no different.  And, walking down any ordinary street, I could be brushing up against your sleeve at this very moment. 

I’m the kind of guy who talks your daughter into taking off her clothes for me before her sweet sixteen and spreads her wide open, just so she’ll be ripe and experienced for her real boyfriend.  I’m the kind of stain on humanity that tells little boys to bend over for me, or push women into dark alleys or doorways late at night.  If society only knew how much I enjoy what I do, they’d throw the book at me.

I’m a swarthy male with a strong, tall, virile frame that causes adult heads to turn and children’s faces to smile whenever I walk by, which makes my work all the easier.  A healthy, muscular body that is the envy of all the male eyes that stare at it just as much as the female ones, and a pinpoint of forbidden desire and mystery to those who welcome it.  During the night, however, I prowl the streets and nightclubs, looking for someone to break up the monotony of wanting something I cannot have.  And if I don’t look for it in the club scene by night, then I hunt for it in the schoolyards by day.

I remember that cool spring evening a few months ago, thinking I might just yet find it.  But all I found were lonely people searching for the same thing, and me, I’m rather picky.  There had been plenty of overtures for sex from both males and females, but I had concluded that I was more or less impotent for the evening.  I was positive that any sexual contact after Rebecca would be anti-climactic, so I almost ignored all attempts to catch a new victim’s attention.

Ah yes, thirteen-year-old Rebecca Wenderschmidt.  The little after-school Lolita with the perfect puberescent tits and ass.  She rocked my world, and always for a piece of candy; talk about innocence lost.  The only time I had really lived was when I was fucking her.  And that had been more than once and only for hours.  Hours out of years of not living, and yet those minutes far outweighed the years before her.  They were far heavier, far greater.  More seductive.  And I still had trouble shaking her from my head. 

Rebecca had never been in complete command of my brain until I killed her and chopped her up into little pieces.  I drove out to the wilderness and dumped her body parts in the swamp.  I had to.  She said she was going to tell her mother in detail about all the things we had done together.  Soon afterwards, I started thinking about her all the time, and whenever I saw other girls her age, suddenly her ghost was there.  That perfect image, grinning back at me.

Rebecca had been a study of passion every time I got a hotel room with her: wide-eyed and openmouthed, her young lips searching for mine, her tongue acting as if it had a mind of its own.  She tickled and licked me in all the spots I knew were arousal zones, and a few others a girl her age should not have known about until she finally touched and found them out.

She always insisted on undressing me, tugging at my clothes with a fury until she managed the T-shirt off my back.  But no apologies ever came and instead, she wrapped her skinny arms around my chest and explored my muscles with her lips and tongue, biting me around the nipples and neck as we toppled backwards on the bed. 

Always holding on to me with one arm, she slipped the other between our bodies and undid my belt and pants so she could push her small hand all the way in; sometimes I thought she was more of a predator than me.  Her fingers tickled my throbbing penis and gently caressed it with the touch of talented experience—that was the part that got me.  Gently, tenderly, yet sensually, they ran up and down my shaft, causing it to bulge against my clothes.  Bulge and throb until it was about to burst through them.  Then she’d let go and ease off me, and I’d tear at her Catholic school outfit while I slipped out of my pants and boxers. 

I really thought things would never be the same after Rebecca, until I spotted the woman in the trendy restaurant.  She wasn’t thirteen, or eighteen, or even twenty-one.  Perhaps thirty-five, but she looked like the kind of female I could connect with.  Small, tanned, and almost frail looking.  With finely-honed muscle power hidden in her long legs and slender but shapely body, she stimulated urges in me.  Urges that I assumed had died in that swamp with Rebecca.  Desires that had been ripped apart and burned in a turpentine-filled garage.  It wasn’t that she resembled Rebecca, though she did, but what turned me on was the vengeful “fuck me hard” look that glittered out of her dark eyes.  Rebecca had had that same appealing radiance.  That “I’m ready for what you are” type of attitude.  So I moved in.

Later, back at the hotel I had used for the hundreds just like her, she told me her name was Sally, and that she was a nymphomaniac. “Sally,” I said, playing with the name softly between my lips. “I like that.  I like that you’re a sex addict, too.” Smiling back at me, her long legs curled seductively as she wiggled to get comfortable on the bed.  She had been an enjoyable partner during dinner, a perfect drinking buddy afterwards and now, staring at her, I admitted I liked the way she coiled on the bed, making her slim but supple body fit the contours of the mattress and pillows. 

I liked the way her medium breasts hung and wriggled when she laughed, and I loved the way she undressed me with her eyes as if I was her victim.  The same, dark eyes that were now glued on me as I dropped ice cubes into a glass and washed them down with scotch.  Swirling the cubes in the glass, I felt her eyes slowly creep up and down my body, exploring the muscles and bulges just as Rebecca had.  Her eyes had a way of caressing a man’s frame, lighting the fire that burned until it was extinguished by an orgasm. 

Without looking back, I switched off the light.  Streaks of soft moonlight played in her hair and around the curves of her body so that even the shadows seemed to beckon me, call me to the bed.  Begging for satisfaction as well as demanding the right to give satisfaction. 

Unbuckling my belt with one hand, I watched as she placed her empty glass on the nightstand and settled back against the pillows.  I wondered when I had last seen such perfect tits.  There were so many victims, it was hard to tell between pairs.  But Sally, no.  Hers were soft and alluring, not too spongy for her age.  They hung like half-inflated balloons.  Large but not so big that they swayed back and forth like pendulous parodies.  Full, lush breasts that were white, matching her white buttocks, and presenting a stark contrast to the rest of her tanned body.  Then I remembered.  Rebecca had had breasts like that.  Proportioned for her body and age.  The image of Rebecca settled in my stomach like cold fire again, and I tried to shake the memory with several quick swallows of alcohol that burned my throat and watered my eyes, as I finally stepped out of my pants and shorts.

By the time I wriggled next to Sally, Rebecca was in possession of my every thought.  The woman wrapped her arms around me, pressing her wet, warm lips against mine; it was Rebecca who I was embracing and kissing.  It was Rebecca’s tits I fondled.  And it was Rebecca whom I was soon going to melt into as I shared a few moments of my existence.  Shared them with a ghost.

When it came to my prey, I was never much of a kisser.  I always tried to avoid a victim’s lips, so it was awkward trying to kiss her back.  However, I surrendered to the images of Rebecca flitting in and out of my mind.  She wouldn’t stay dead and the vibrant, moaning woman became that little girl to me all over again.  She offered me everything I had eliminated a few months before.

My tongue found hers and my fingertips glided over her body, pinching and tickling at the right spots until she groaned deeply in her throat and frantically searched for my cock.  Finding it, she wriggled out of my grasp and slid down so her lips could explore my bulging shaft.  Flicking the head back and forth, she murmured something incoherent.  She stopped licking to suck all of it into her throat; even the way she blew me was reminiscent of Rebecca. 

As my penis slid between those lush lips, I couldn’t hold back a single moan of pleasure.  Squirming and twisting the woman, I moved her around so I could match her sucking and begin playing with her clitoris between my tongue.  She quivered several times and raked her nails over my backside.  She sucked me in deeper and deeper until I thought there was no end to the depth of her mouth.  Several more eternities of oral stimulation continued with each groaning in the moonlight.

Then, as if on cue, I stopped.  I swung her around to kiss her face and lips, squeezing her so hard that her breath rasped out in tiny but happy jerks.  As I squeezed, she worked her hand in between them.  When her fingertips touched my penis again, she grabbed it and slowly jerked it back and forth, signaling me to back away slightly.  Enough so she could guide me in.

Grabbing her shoulders, I buried my face in the soft hollow of her neck and began pumping furiously.  She kept in tune and timed her movements to mine.  When she caught onto the rhythm, we moved in perfect unison and became one entity.  One being intent on experiencing the too-short shimmer of the orgasm.  The shimmer that began suddenly at the base of our spines. 

Moving her on her back, I felt her legs tighten around my waist; the strength of the woman was amazing.  Her scissors grip actually hurt, but again, it was an exquisite pain that just made me want more.  And I got more as I pumped harder.  Harder.  And harder.  Until I was ramming into Sally as viciously as I could. 

Her nails and teeth dug into me in a number of places too numerous to count and too pleasurable to care; she kept struggling for more sites to leave her mark as the ultimate pain hit us both at the same time.  The ultimate pain of being on the edge of cumming.  On the rim but not yet there.  Though it was only a few seconds until we exploded through both of our bodies, it seemed like hours as we pulled and pumped, tugged and kissed, moaned and squirmed. 

Finally, we were swallowed by the pleasure of our mutual climax.  We both drifted off in a dreamy, blissful release—floating, until we settled back to our slice of earth and time, relaxing and tasting the sweet sweat of our ecstasies speckling both our bodies.  Me and Rebecca’s old proxy.

We remained locked together, listening to each other’s hearts pounding away.  I became scared that my heavy bulk might be too much for her slightly built frame.  I reluctantly broke free.  She sighed when I pulled out.  Still half-hard, I whispered, “That was fantastic.  Again.”

Chuckling, I tried to penetrate her a second time; my half-erect penis slid in without any trouble.  As soon as our pubic areas intermingled, she began gyrating in a slow circle, working her hips in perfect timing.  She nipped at my neck and stimulated me all over again.  My once-quelled emotions were soon back to full erection, pumping back with violent rammings of my own.  This time the climax took longer but it was as sweet and soothing as the first one.  Still, it was exciting enough where I’d lost control of my biting, stopping only when she yelped in pain.

I began to act more sadistic towards her, giving her a slap here and a smack there, and she seemed to enjoy it.  Just like Rebecca used to.  However, the only difference was Sally seemed uncomfortable with me inside her while doing it.  When I pulled out she didn’t object.

Standing, I was pleased to see her legs quivering.  I went to the room’s wobbly-legged servicing table.  She skipped into the bathroom while I made more drinks.  When she came out, she looked as refreshed as when I had first spotted her in the restaurant.  Cool, placid, pleased with herself and aflame with the desire to try anything.

She took the drink I offered and put it down, then curled up next to me on the bed, like Rebecca used to, making me decide that I’d never be able to get enough of her supple body moving effortlessly into any position she wanted.  Never.  She took two cigarettes out of her purse on the nightstand and, lighting both, placed one between my lips.  I took a deep drag and, removing it, let the smoke dribble out of my mouth while I stroked her shoulder with my lips.  Her long, auburn hair tickled the back of my neck.

“She must have been one hell of a girl,” she finally said in a hushed voice.

“Huh?” I almost choked on my saliva.

“The girl you just made love to.”

“You mean fucked.”

“No, I mean loved.”

I frowned as if I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she just laughed at my efforts, the moonlight making her features even more fragile, but also questionable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m with you.”

“Don’t play stupid,” she laughed. “I’ve been around long enough to know when a man is screwing me or some other girl.  I can feel that connection, and I know when things are off.  Either a younger lady from his past or one he hasn’t found yet.  There’s a subtle difference but most experienced women can tell.”

Her pert features grew more serious as she added, “I figure you don’t just dream about that certain someone and so you went out and found that love, like some predator.  And then you fucked up.  You let your obsessions get in the way, and you lost her.”

I sipped my scotch nervously and said, “Look, I had a wonderful time.  But I’m sorry, I have no idea—”

“Shh.  Don’t apologize,” she interrupted, hushing me with a delicate finger placed against my lips. “Don’t ever be sorry you found what most people frantically search for all their lives, and don’t ever make excuses.  No matter what kind of girl she was, or how old she was, be grateful you had some playtime with her.  Even if it was only one time, that’s one time more than the majority of the human race has to offer.”

Stunned by her empathy, and the way she read me and knew me so well, I stared at her and she smiled back.  For a quick moment it crossed my mind that she might have been a cop, or she might have known what I did in my off time.  My sickness, my fetish; call it what you will.  She might have very well known I had spent the last twenty years raping, sodomizing, molesting, and victimizing my own fears away on countless others.  Then again, she could have been just like me.  Only more striking, more ambiguous. 

Looking away from her, I said, “Yeah, well, when I picked you up, I wasn’t looking for a lifetime partner.  Just an evening of fun and pleasure.  Just something to control these urges.”

“When you picked me up?” she asked. “I thought I had picked you up.” She shook her head and laughed. “Good old male chauvinistic bullshit at work again.  No man picks up a woman unless she wants him to.  And I wanted you to.”

“That’s hilarious!” Then I chuckled and asked, “Even if it was to be a substitute for a shadow from my past?”

For some reason that seemed to hurt her and, at the time, I wanted to reach out and snatch back my feeble attempt to be amusing—like I said, at the time—but her words had already registered in her mind and I was helpless to do anything about them, as a pained expression flitted across her face.  The hurt look soon faded and was replaced with the glint of enjoying each other’s company.  Not minding having to take it as it came.  She kissed my shoulder in the moonlight and began massaging my testicles while we both agreed silently to forget everything. 

“Tell me about her,” she finally said.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” she remarked casually, that hurt skidding in and out of her eyes in a blink again.  However, the tone was slightly more inquisitive. 

At first, I did not want to tell her about Rebecca.  I had wanted to keep my statutory love and what it had meant to me inside my head, and selfishly hoard it from the world.  Even from one other person.  Even if she was dead and I couldn’t get over the fact that I was the one who killed her. 

I found myself babbling; I also found myself unusually drowsy. “Her name was Rebecca Wenderschmidt,” I began and she giggled.

“Really?” She began to tighten her hold around my nuts.

“Really,” I insisted, not really irked at her laughing at Rebecca’s name. “She was a…” I stopped and stared at Sally for a brief moment before I continued, “I could explain her to you, I guess, but unless you’re the kind of person I am and really felt it for yourself, you wouldn’t understand why it hurts so much.”

That sad look blinked alive again, and I realized what I was seeing in her expression.  She wasn’t angry or jealous.  She was empathic because she, too, had been envisioning an image of someone close to her.  Someone she had loved.  Someone she had lost. 

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” she asked suddenly.

“What?”

“What I mean is—” She began again. “Well, it’s just that you don’t impress me as the type of man who would let a girl you loved so much walk away from you.  And you’re too habitual to waste that kind of love.  So, she has to be dead.”

But her last remark didn’t ring true to me, and I began seeing through her little act with great suspicion. “You’re in a questionable mood,” I said.

“Is she dead?” she asked again, squeezing my balls harder.

“Why is that so important?” I knew the answer but refused to tell her.

“I want to know.  Is my daughter dead?”

Staring at her half-visible form in the soft moonlight, my mouth dropped in complete awe. “You mean, you’re…you’re…”

“Rebecca’s mother? Yeah, I’m Sally Wenderschmidt.  And I’ve been looking for my little girl for an awfully long time.  My baby still hasn’t come home.”

My eyes suddenly closed and I fell backwards off the bed.  I hit the hotel room floor with a great thud, as the strange drowsiness from moments earlier took full control of my body. “Wh… What did you do to me?” I muttered incoherently. 

I couldn’t get up for the life of me.  My vision was blurry, and I could only see a shapely female silhouette, slowly rising from the bed to put on her bra and panties. 

“I drugged your glass when we first checked in,” Sally said.

“What the fuck! You drugged me?” I heard her going into her purse.

“Yeah, I drugged you.  I picked you up, I screwed you, and now I’m going to find out the truth.  Only the truth will set you free.”

“But how? How did you know all those moves in bed? How did you relate to me so well?”

“Because my daughter told me about you.  She told me what you did to her.  She told me what you liked having done to you.  And she told me what kind of a sick monster you really are.” Sally laughed as she came around the bed and knelt over me with a sharp glimmering object. “Just another sexual deviant who can’t get enough.  So easy to victimize others, but oh so scared when they find themselves on the receiving end.”

“Please, don’t kill me,” I pleaded.

“I’m not going to kill you.  I just want to know… Is my daughter dead?”

Before I could answer her, the swirling blackness from whatever she had drugged me with had taken over.  But then she probably already knew the answer.

After that, the next time I awoke the sun was shining down upon me through rectangular slits in the room’s windows, and I was wearily tossing on the floor.  I sucked in a double lungful of air and found myself alone, staring up at the ceiling.  The blank, empty, white ceiling that resembled my life and that symbolized my existence pre-Rebecca and now post-Sally.

Like I said, the only time I had really lived was when I was fucking the woman’s daughter.  And that had been more than once and only for hours.  Hours out of years of not living, and yet those minutes far outweighed the years before her.  They were far heavier, far greater.  More seductive.  And to this very day, I still have trouble shaking both of them from my head. 

I got up and walked over to the mirror and blinked tears out of my eyes and wondered why I was so emotional.  That night, with Sally, I didn’t want to think of Rebecca or any of my past victims.  Not once.  I was hoping the scar tissue would heal the wound her death had left upon me, and the wound her mother had left.

So if somebody were to ask me if my life has changed dramatically, I would have to say it has in only one way.  Then I’d pull down my pants and tell them to look at where my privates used to be, and I’d say that they disappeared because one of my victim’s parents requested it…

 

The End 

Other New Entries: “Fiction Sample”

The Willows Magazine, October 2008… (Now Available!)

I’m pleased to announce that the October 2008 Issue of THE WILLOWS MAGAZINE is now available.  A very delightful Halloween print edition indeed, filled with a plethora of steampunk and Neo/Post-Victorian period works of horror and other macabre tales.  Published bimonthly, this is my fourth run as Feature Author with the magazine, and the fiction just gets hotter with each new issue. They’ve been mentioned in The New York Times and the San Francisco Chronicle, so why not join the steampunk movement and read… “The Willows”…!

THE WILLOWS MAGAZINE:

September-October 2008

The Willows Magazine, September/October 2008

The Willows Magazine, September/October 2008

 www.thewillowsmagazine.com

Featuring Fiction by: Sarah Monette, G.D. Falksen, Lawrence Dagstine, Eric S. Brown, Robey Jenkins, and Michelle Pribbernow. With non-fiction & reviews by Reyna Sparby and Skadi meic Beorh. Edited by Ben Thomas.

Previous Issues featuring Lawrence Dagstine:

(Some may already be sold out; some still available)

The Willows Magazine, May/June 2008
The Willows Magazine, May/June 2008
The Willows Magazine, March 2008
The Willows Magazine, March 2008

 SUBSCRIBE NOW: http://thewillows.myshopify.com/

Only $5.00 per fiction-filled issue; $25.00 annually for SIX ISSUES!

 

  

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

NOVA Science Fiction, Issue #22… (4th appearance)

The latest issue of NOVA Scifi, No. 22, is finally available.  NOVA is easily one of the better Hard SF-meets-religious-SF based magazines available in the American small press today.  This would be my 4th appearance with them.  The cover art is dedicated to Jon Cooper’s, “Pharoah”. 

Previous Issues featuring Lawrence R. Dagstine:

-Issues #15, #18, #20, and New Issue #22

     

Homepage: www.novascifi.com

Issue Archive: http://www.novascifi.com/issues.html

Issue #22 Fiction by: Jon Cooper, Erik Lenhart, Lawrence Dagstine, Joanne Tolson, Susan Taylor, Howard Bowman, Wesley Kawato, and Wesley Lambert.  Cover art by Josh Grieve.

Snail Mail and Queries: Nova Science Fiction, C/O Wesley Kawato, 17983 Paseo Del Sol, Chino Hills, CA  91709-3947

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

JUPITER SF, October 2008; Issue #22… (appearances)

Now available in print is my fifth appearance to one of England’s longest-running — and also most widely read next to Interzone — small press magazines of Hard Science Fiction/Space Exploration.  JUPITER SF.  Edited quarterly by Ian Redman, Jupiter has become home to many prolific names and British stars in the speculative fiction field today.  A magazine worth checking out, and with stories that are sure to please.  Over five years running, each issue is aptly named after a satellite either orbiting Jupiter or within close trajectory.

JUPITER SCIENCE FICTION

October 2008 – Issue #22

 ORDER HERE: www.jupitersf.co.uk

Featuring work by: Geoff Nelder, Lawrence R. Dagstine, Carmelo Rafala, Gareth D. Jones, Simon Petrie, and David Vickery.  Cover artwork by R.J. Bartrop. 

Previous FOUR Issues featuring Lawrence R. Dagstine

Issues #12, #13, #15, and #17

jupiter12.jpg  jupiter13.jpg

jupiter15.jpg  carrlihoe.jpg

Also, order these magazines above and other great SF titles from THE GENRE MALLhttp://www.genremall.com/contents.htm

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Whispering Spirits, Halloween Special… (5th acceptance)

I’ve just been commissioned by Whispering Spirits’ editor, Diana Cacy Hawkins, for a 5th short story run, and this time for a special-themed  Halloween issue. Whispering Spirits is published semi-annually, and its content is based around ghost stories, the supernatural, and the occult.  It’ll be available as a free PDF.

WHISPERING SPIRITS SPECIAL

HALLOWEEN EDITION

Whispering Spirits

Whispering Spirits

 http://www.whisperingghosts.com/

Previous issues have featured such names as Angeline Hawkes, Alexis Child, G.W. Thomas, Kristine Ong Muslim, and Lanaia Lee. 

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Bloody October Anthology… (Now Available!)

Fresh off of the presses and now available is editor Christopher Allan Death’s ten-story Halloween anthology, BLOODY OCTOBER.  Great tales, trick or treat.  Published by Corpulent Insanity Press, and run by the creators of the Midnight Horror E-Zine.  This is Corpulent’s first collection, and I can’t recommend it enough! 

BLOODY OCTOBER Anthology – Edited by Christopher Allan Death

‘A Collection of Chilling Tales inspired by The Haunted Season’

 

http://corpulentinsanitypress.com/bloody-october/

Also Available on Amazon.com (last I checked the sales rank was around 180,000):

http://www.amazon.com/Bloody-October-Christopher-Allan-Death/dp/0615222455/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1222997100&sr=1-1

Featuring spooky tales by: Christopher Fulbright, Rob Rosen, Lawrence R. Dagstine, Tom Johnstone, Karen L. Newman, Christopher Allen Death, Sam Leng, Kris Ashton, Aaron L. Polson, and Catherine J. Gardner.  Cover art by Steve L. Cartwright.

Other New Entries: “Books & Anthos”

Macabre Cadaver, October 2008… (appearances)

You can find me in the latest edition of MACABRE CADAVER.  They have a delightful selection of stories, art, and poetry.  It’s a free PDF download, too, so why not try them out?

MACABRE CADAVER – October 2008

A Magazine of Speculative Fiction, Art, and Poetry

Macabre Cadaver, Issue #3

Macabre Cadaver, Issue #3

www.macabrecadaver.com

Featuring Works by: Jamie Eyberg, Amanda Lawrence Auverigne, Aaron A. Polson, Philip Roberts, Jessica Gardner, Lawrence Dagstine, Noah Elliot Blake, Alex Moisi, Abigail Lambton, Ricardo Delgado, Jeff Woodward, Keaton Foster, Richard H. Fay, and Emmanuel Paige.

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Otherworlds Anthology, SpecFicWorld… (appearances)

On October 1st you can find me at SpecFicWorld in Doyle Wilmoth’s OTHERWORLDS ANTHOLOGY.  There are many other great PDF anthologies at the same place! One such scifi project in the loop is: IT CAME FROM PLANET MARS.  SpecFicWorld is also an excellent resource for finding paying genre markets.

OTHERWORLDS ANTHOLOGY

Edited by Doyle Wilmoth

*SpecFicWorld.com*

READ HERE: http://www.specficworld.com/fiction/Default.aspx

Author Lineup: Lawrence Dagstine, Ian R. Faulkner, Mercurio Rivera, and Trent Roman

Other New Entries: “Books & Anthos, Magazines”

 

Lawrence Dagstine: 340 Publishing Credits…!

I’m sometimes amazed at myself, but I don’t know if I really should be.  I mean, for a part-timer, I’ve accomplished something most small press authors only dream about, and in a very short space of time.  I’ve made lots of friends and contacts these past few years, and introduced them to other friends and contacts.  I’ve helped newer authors get published in print and paying markets.  I’ve shared worthwhile publishing experiences and learned lots of beneficial marketing techniques.  And if it wasn’t for genre, I doubt I’d be where I’m at today.  Proofreading and freelancing! At the same time, I’ve learned stuff about various industries and writing circles, held up a middle finger, and made a handful of enemies.  But I’m still here.  I keep on trucking.  After 340 Publishing Credits I’ve proven to myself that I can work the trenches, and I do it with integrity.  When I go to sleep at night my accomplishments seem rather small in comparison to most everybody else, but at least I can stare at myself in the mirror and not look away.   I’ve built up a persona and a small fan base — and I have nothing but love and respect for that fan base.  I’ve shown many that the Dagstine Recipe not only works, but hey, I sell certain products and entertain the average reader, too.

Some writers herald me as this hero, others a danger to some kind of ridiculous inner sanctum.  But when a new writer sends me an email, saying, “Lawrence, thank you so much for suggesting that market.  They accepted my story, and I got paid for it!” Then I know I did my job for the day.  Matter of fact, I get more enjoyment out of that than my own writing.  Seeing other, deserving writers happy.

Between now and next spring you’ll see new anthologies, new webzines, and a ton of magazines featuring yours truly! There’s two collections in the horizon, too.  You might see me at a few local signings and events, a few library readings, so stop in to say hi.  As I surpass 25,000 blog hits, and 340 magazine and webzine credits, I’d love for you to be here Halloween…and for the next six months to follow…

The milestone celebration begins October 2008, and it lasts for 40 blog entries~  BE HERE!

Cheers,

Lawrence R. Dagstine

Other New Entries: “About Me”

Lawrence Dagstine: why I write short stories…

Many an aspiring author — and professional, too — has asked me over the past year why I write short stories.  Or, at the very least, why I choose to.  Naturally, it’s a field you won’t get rich from.  Matter of fact, if you happen to be one in that ten-thousand median author range to be on the lookout for, chances are you probably won’t even break the $5000 mark per year from all sources “writing-related”.   If you write novel-length genre works, major houses will usually yield print runs of 3000 copies.  Everybody wants a piece of the pie; the only thing is, there is no pie.  There are so many micro-presses these days that anybody can become a writer.  In most cases, this has screwed up the marketplace; I blame this slow literary death on technological globalization.

So what do we do to assure ourselves a cut and immortality? We annex and fan-club the profession.  This isn’t a terrible thing, but it’s all we’ve got right now until we come up with a better game plan, right? At the same time, I also believe we shouldn’t write for the masses because you never know what might work or what might not. 

October 1927 Copy of Short Stories Magazine

October 1927 Copy of Short Stories Magazine

The writing game is the extra income game, but it’s also the poor man’s game.  Which brings me back to my original topic: why short stories? Hey, why not? Life is short, and you should get your voice heard no matter what the venue.  That’s my philosophy.  But rather than tell you what motivates me to write short stories, why I prefer it over the long form (not to say there isn’t anything in the works; that’s for another day), and why I still persist at it… Well, I decided to search the Internet for like-minded individuals.  People who prefer to write short stories, too.

The first is Bev Vincent (author of The Road to the Dark Tower).  Every once in a while I do find a little gem of a post over at Storyteller’s Unplugged.  Bev is always astute and charming in his posts, and with this particular blog entry, he practically took the words right out of my mouth.  Because these are my very same thoughts.  Along with that, I’ve provided a few other links on why it really doesn’t matter, why sometimes it does, and on how what I mentioned above is so true… Life being short, so just submit…

WHY WRITE SHORT STORIES by Bev Vincent (Storyteller’s Unplugged):

http://www.storytellersunplugged.com/why-write-short-stories

 HOW MUCH DOES WRITING PAY by Nut (The Writer’s Coin):

http://www.thewriterscoin.com/2008/09/04/how-much-does-writing-pay/

 MY WIFE IS RUINING MY DREAMS by Chris Cope (Life Files):

http://www.theindychannel.com/family/16557240/detail.html

Also, the last time I did a post of this nature I forgot to stress the importance of an editorial filter, and I didn’t focus enough on non-fiction writing.  My last rant was geared more toward genre, and I apologize for that.  However, in the same fashion, I’d rather you read “How” and “Why” I do it (and what’s to be had from it), from the likes of others, rather than myself.  And in their own words.

HOW TO WRITE FOR MAGAZINES by Jason Arnopp (Bloggery Pokery)

http://jasonarnopp.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-to-write-for-magazine.html

SMALL PRESS MAGAZINES: SHOULD YOU BOTHER? by Bruce Boston

(Sam’s Dot Publishing/Writing World.Com)

http://www.writing-world.com/fiction/boston.shtml

THE AMATEUR vs. PROFESSIONAL MYTHOS

FREELANCE PROFESSIONAL WRITERS HATE AMATEUR WRITERS by Lance Winslow

http://ezinearticles.com/?Free-Lance-Professional-Writers-Hate-Amateur-Writers&id=227821

HOW WRITERS CAN BENEFIT FROM THE SHORT STORY MARKET by Paul Turner 

http://www.articlesbase.com/writing-articles/how-writers-can-benefit-from-the-short-story-market-469055.html

WHAT MAKES A WRITER A PROFESSIONAL by Bruce Byfield

http://brucebyfield.wordpress.com/2007/06/08/what-makes-a-writer-a-professional/

INTERNET SMACKDOWN: THE AMATEUR VS. THE PROFESSIONAL by Tony Long

http://www.wired.com/culture/lifestyle/commentary/theluddite/2007/06/luddite_0621

So what are you waiting for? Go ahead and submit that story.  As the professionals mentioned in the links above, these are the same exact reasons “Why” and “How” I do it.  And always remember, just because you’re not getting a piece of the pie, doesn’t mean you can’t have your cake and eat it, too. 😉

Cheers.

Lawrence R. Dagstine