This is a shout-out to Ranylt Richildis of my Little Workshop of Horrors group. I informed her how I recently had a editor reject a short story - they complained the character is ruminating too much in the beginning of the piece. Well, of course they are ruminating - they are driving to Cornwall for a friend's funeral, for cryin' out loud. In high praise, Ranylt told me the piece, with its travel and then fantastical tone (I added these last two bits, assuming she meant this), reminded her of Clive Barker's "In the Hills, the Cities", which appeared in volume one of Books of Blood. "In the Hills, the Cities" is an absolutely gorgeous story that I stumbled across in high school, while working part-time at Harvey's (for the non-Canadians, this is a fast-food chain). The story knocked me and my teenage sensibilities back- it featured a male gay couple, a weird fantastic premise, and travel. I thought 'You can do this? You can do this with a short story? Yes. You can do this. Thank you, Clive.'
And now - thank you, Ranylt.
And now - thank you, Ranylt.