Building Atmosphere

Every once in a while, when your heroes are out in the late eveningn, remember to mention how loud insects get. I can't believe they survive like that. It's ridiculous.

Novel Research

I'm just saying a fantasy writer isn't respectable till he's cut the liver out of a bull. No, it doesn't matter if the story features haruspicy. Why would it?

Contact Scratch

The door of the pool hall on New Platte opened. In stepped an alien. None of the regulars or those passing by had seen its sort before, and their system of etiquette didn't preclude staring.
"Hello, human players," the traveler spoke, its voice filtered by its mask. Undoubtedly it would have sounded less ominous otherwise. "I am currently touring the galaxy. This is the first human planet I have visited and I am interested in your games. Who wishes to make a small wager with me? Something minor simply to give the 'authentic experience' as they say."
"What's your name, stranger?" the barman asked.
"Is that your custom? Very well. I am Xychglubnhi, which in your speech signifies 'Useless Stupid Dumb Lazy from Xytl.'"
"Looks like we have a hustler here, boys," one of the humans said, and Xychglubnhi marveled. How did they know? Were humans truly the greatest players of the galactic sport as the rumors said?
Finis

The Problems of Technology

Since ebooks display pages inconsistently, it's impossible to have a page that just says "LOOK OUT! A SPOOKY SKULL!"

Addendum

There are two kinds of people in the world: Those who think "wizard" is a dumb word and those who haven't thought about it.

Don't Get Left Behind

OUT: Wizard
ALL ABOUT: Magic-haver

The New Way to Adapt Fantasy to Film

Make it black and white and so dark that nobody can't see nothing. It will look so arty that nobody will dare complain.

Reflections on the End of Service Announcement for Alice Fiction

It should have been some unbearably twee novel that people recommend for three months before everybody forgets it exists.

Reflections on the End of Service Announcement for Brave Nine

It really should have been a baseball game. After they changed the title, at least.

The Last Order

In the super-advanced magical civilization Doreia, not only famine but even hunger was eradicated. Diseases became nuisances. As for war, what of it? A subject for historians only. Human greed, however, remained.
"Only one more ********** will be produced in this set," the young man muttered as he stood still on the magical street which moved pedestrians effortlessly about the city. "And I preordered it. Me! I'm minutes away."
Can you imagine his excitement? His human excitement? We cannot today understand what he wanted, but only that he wanted it, and he communicated his desire to the store clerk, who said, "I'm sorry, sir. That item is reserved."
"Yes. By me."
"I'm very sorry, sir."
"But . . ." What can one say in such a situation? "When? Who reserved it and when? I ordered the ********** three weeks ago."
"Sir, what's done is done." The clerk's words were definitive, but his manner nervous.
The bell rang and another man walked in. It was the famous and influential ************, Mr. G. He addressed the clerk. "Is that thing I asked about yesterday in yet? It is? Great!"
He took his package and left. Throughout the interaction, he ignored the clerk's many blinks, his slightly open mouth, and his eyes that moved repeatedly toward the other customer before he yanked them away. The other customer, too, did not notice the clerk, or anything at all. He left without saying anything. That was the day the demon king who destroyed Doreia was born.
Finis