Sometime in the past month (or maybe two–time has become difficult to judge lately, thanks to this summer heat melting my brain into something that could pass for expired clam chowder) I heard about an open submission window for a trio of books from Flame Tree Publishing: one each for horror, ghosts and science fiction. They said they were open to multiple submissions, so naturally I upended my trunk of unsold stories over their inbox.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration–I only sent five stories. And, as you’ve probably guessed from this post’s headline, one of them sold.
“Sweet Dreams, Glycerine” will be appearing in Flame Tree’s Science Fiction volume this August, hidden among 480 pages of SF stories new and old. According to the volume’s description on Flame Tree’s site, I’ll be hanging out with such authors as Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov, H.P. Lovecraft and H.G. Wells. I’m not sure how I ended up in that party, but let’s hope no one comes around checking for invitations.
Now, they say you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but just this once, I’d like everyone to make an exception.
That book should be in an art gallery. No! It deserves its own gallery. Actually, let’s just agree to appoint it as the President’s Adviser to the Arts. And if you don’t think that’s the best idea ever proposed by a human being, then maybe I should point out that the book will be hardback, printed on silver, matte laminated, gold foil stamped, and embossed.
Mom, if you have to pick between having this book or a photograph of me on your shelf, the decision should be easy. I probably looked dumb in that picture anyway.