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vol vii, issue 6 < ToC
Dear Xutuix?!
by
J.D. Harlock
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A Shore ofAlien Blob
Distant SandDissolves ...
Dear Xutuix?!
by
J.D. Harlock
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A Shore of
Distant Sand




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Alien Blob
Dissolves ...
Dear Xutuix?!
by
J.D. Harlock
previous next

A Shore of Alien Blob
Distant Sand Dissolves ...
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A Shore of
Distant Sand




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Alien Blob
Dissolves ...
Dear Xutuix?!
 by J.D. Harlock
Dear Xutuix?!
 by J.D. Harlock
D“ear *¥+¥!*(Xutuix?!)

We really appreciated the time it must’ve taken you to send us your experimental essay (short story?), but I’m afraid that on this occasion we’re going to have to reject it. We don’t usually respond to submissions, but luckily this time, we decided that underrepresented writers (you mentioned you were a resident alien?) should get some sort of feedback on how to improve their writing moving forward, and hopefully, one day, attain the heights that’ll allow their work in our pages.

Now we here at The Endless Fantasias of Arcane Lores try to make sure that our feedback mostly zeroes in on what works about a piece, and I have to say you’ve got something unique and very, very interesting going on here. I don’t think I’ve ever read a piece about a day in the life of “€£¥*” (CeYx? Ceux? Am I using the term right?) as a grak-splor-g rustler on “&*&*##$%^” and I’m not sure I ever will again. We don’t usually recommend that writers send in their first drafts or works-in-progress or preliminary notes, but we think you should really capitalize on this underrepresented perspective and maybe work on some of the other minor stuff that’s holding your writing back, like spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I really, really think if you really invest the time into at least one of these things, there’ll really be a noticeable improvement in the quality of your work and you can really start tapping into that (potential) potential that I’m certain you probably have.

I completely understand that this may be frustrating to hear at this stage of your writing divertissement, but I think you can take comfort in the point of view that this is only one award-winning editor’s opinion. Other editors at smaller small press magazines may disagree, and I would recommend you take their feedback almost as seriously as mine. I’m afraid that art just hasn’t been decolonized yet in the old U.S. of A., and we’re unfortunately still working off arcane (love using this word) frameworks that only emphasize western storytelling values like story, plot, and character. I’m sure where you're from, there’s a whole other dimension of art that we can’t wait to explore someday, and you can rest assured that we took that into full consideration when judging your piece.

And I guess that’s all we have to say!

We apologize we took so long to get back to you. The piece took some time to parse through. Quite some time, actually, but we’re really glad that we were able to somehow get back to you on this. We know you opted-in for our premium deluxe fast response option with premier responses from every single one of our twelve volunteer editors, but for some reason, we couldn’t process your payment. The app glitched and said it couldn’t recognize your currency (something about it not existing), but there’s no need to worry, we’ve messaged tech support, and they’ll get your money to us in no time!

Thank you for your (INSERT COMPLIMENT) work

We appreciated acknowledge your piece, and we welcome you to submit again hope you find a better home outlet for it.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask....

Actually....

You know what?

Since the other editors aren’t going to even bother to look over this one, I’m going to be a bit blunter than I usually am about these things.

So...

Are you trolling us?

That’s what I thought at first. But who would spend this kind of money to hear back from a bunch of Eng lit majors who started a blog for ten dollars? Honestly, we didn’t put up all these payment options expecting someone to buy the full, FULL package, but it’s really hard out there for a revolutionary intersectional small press these days.

I really, really appreciate that you thought we were worth it, though, so, for once in my career, I’m going to give it to you straight:

What the fuck was that?!

I mean, what the fuck?!

This was just wrong.

Why would you, in your right mind, think this was worthy of our time?! My time!

Where do I even begin?

Would you even understand if I did?

Can you?

I don’t know.

Maybe there’s a language barrier here? Or a cultural difference? I don’t fucking know

I just know that you don’t send a story about the mating rituals of “interplanetary time dilators” on the Carputhian beat in the mean streets of Galaxar! Whatever the fuck that means because I don’t fucking know!

Do you?

Do you know what the fuck any of this means?

Well, I don’t think so.

Here, let me prove it to you.

Tell me, what is a €£¥*?

Or a grak-splor-g?!

Or grak-splor-g rustling!

And how do you pronounce “&*&*##$%^?”, if you can call this (or really any of these) sounds real words?! If you can all any of these symbols sounds!

I mean, you can’t even pronounce them in English!

And it doesn’t end there.

None of this, I repeat NONE OF THIS, is realistic or even makes the tiniest chromosome of sense!

Why do the €£¥*$ have ejaculatory suction proboscises instead of faces? And if they have ejaculatory suction proboscises for faces, where do their six million transdimensional eyes fit?! Inside of them?! And if they have ejaculatory suction proboscises with six million transdimensional eyes inside of them, why have them cry from their rectal orifices!

Explain! Explain!

I mean, come on!

It doesn’t even factor into the story!

I think ...

Anyways, I’m almost certain that some other publisher out there would love to have received this.

Respectfully,

Acknowledging-ly,

The Editor(s)”


On finishing the letter, *¥+¥!* found it harder to breathe–through all the ejaculation. Having taken time off his pressing work as an interplanetary time dilator to try and make it as a writer on his favorite planet Earth–away from all that Carputhian beat on the mean streets of Galaxar–this hit them particularly hard. But, unable to find the mating call to express their unbridled anguish, they turned their ejaculatory suction proboscis away in shame, for their six million transdimensional eyes could not bear to look at the rejection letter any longer.

A grak-splor-g mooed far off in the distance as the €£¥* rectal orifices began to liquidate.