This is Wrong on So Many Levels

So, like the rest of you, I get weekly letters from a nice solicitor in Nigeria who would like me to assist him in his financial endeavors here in the states. Does this ever actually work? I think, and then delete it. (And there's also a part of me that thinks, Wouldn't it be nice if this was legit? I could make a couple of million dollars!) But alas...

Now I'm getting spam emails from some penpal site. Today's was particularly amusing:

Hello My Dear,
Am Juliet,i saw your mail today in a site and www.penpals.p i became interested in you.I want to know if this your email is correct so that i will send my photos to you.From there we will know eachother very well for a sincere relationship.Hope to hearing from you soonest.

Yours
Juliet

I almost want to write "her" back to see what would happen. But then I think, Why am I not getting these emails from James Purefoy? Are they stuck in my spam filter? I'd be happy to send him my pictures for a "sincere relationship." And I could even answer in proper English. (Seriously, what's up with the bad grammar? We outsource to Indian-based techies all the time. You'd think this pen pal site would hire someone away from a call center.)

Parties interested in contacting Juliet, please email me. She provided her address.

NPR Three-Minute Fiction Contest is Back!

NPR asks, "How long does it take to tell a good story?" The sixth round of their "3-Minute Fiction" contest will open this weekend. The premise is simple--send them a story of 1000 words or fewer. Winners get read on the air, plus other goodies. Details here.

Artists listen up--Zero2illo has a deal for you!

I'm not an artist but my mother and sister were and some of my best friends are and I know how tough it is in the freelance art world. Zero2Illo is a site/blog that was started by a graphic artist to chart his own work/success and has grown into a supportive social network. Their current mission statement is: to enable and empower more creative entrepreneurs and illustrators to earn a living from their creative skills.

Right now (and through Wednesday, Zero2Illo is offering an amazing sale on tools for artists who want to expand their freelance careers. They're offering a bunch of books bundled for only $47. Check out the sale. And consider joining the community. We're all in this together, right?

Care for a Monday serving of dark fiction?

Head on over to Dark Valentine Magazine and your craving will be satisfied. There's a new story up called "Mother Mine" that is just chilling. April Grey is a new contributor to the magazine but I hope to see a lot more of her. Laura Neubert did the evocative illustration. She contributed several illustrations for our Fall Fiction Frenzy. Here's the link. And hey--be careful out there.

Oh Canada

Yes, it's another Canadian writing contest. This one is sponsored by above&beyond, Canada's Arctic Journal. Enter with 1000 words about life in Canada's Yukon, Northern Territories, Nunavut, or Nunavik. Words can be fiction or non-fiction. Check out the details on the Circumpolar Blog.

Bring on the Zombie Apocalypse--in French

This is a bad-ass zombie film from France, where they know how to do bad-ass.

You probably didn't get a chance to see this in the theater--I don't think it even played here--but it's now out on dvd. Here's the review from Bloody Disgusting. Here's the review from FEARnet. (They didn't like it as much as I did.)

NoHo Noir--And it's really Noir this week

This week's adventures of the residents of North Hollywood and Toluca Lake, California continue with "Lucky Lady." Here our luckless wannabe screenwriter Christo and his roommate Ash stumble into the path of a crazy homeless woman and veer into disaster.

The illustration is by Mark Satchwill, who as always, manages to capture the characters and the heart of the story. Here's the beginning of the story:

Vardan hated the homeless people who used his gas station as a rest stop. If they bought something, he couldn’t refuse them the right to use the bathroom, but if he saw one coming, he could usually head them off by hanging an “out of order” sign he kept under the counter just for that purpose.

The old lady, though, she was sly. She’d approach from his blind side, slipping through the entrance behind someone coming in to pay for gas. She always seemed to have enough pennies to buy a pack of gum or a roll of mints, and then she would ask for the bathroom key. She’d usually ask in front of someone, as if daring him to deny her permission in front of witnesses.

She’d snatch the key with her filthy hands and then disappear for a long time. When she emerged, the whole interior of the station smelled like a stable for hours, no matter how much Lysol he sprayed.

Vardan’s Unocal

10xxx Magnolia Blvd.

North Hollywood, CA 91601

4:53 p.m.

Today the old lady had been in the crapper so long Vardan thought she might have died in there. He was thinking about banging on the door to roust her when the two boys came in.

They weren’t really boys he saw as the shorter one started foraging for junk food. They just had that formless look that so many Americans had. What was the expression? Half-cooked? Half-baked. They looked half-baked, doughy and soft.

The nerd headed for the lottery ticket machine in the back of the store. He took a long time deciding which game to choose. Vardan didn’t understand gambling. He worked too hard for his money to throw any of it away. But that was Americans for you, he thought. Always looking for the easy way.

Vardan had come to California with a stolen Visa card, the address of his cousin in Glendale and ten words of English, all but one of them profane. He was big and strong and mean and his cousin always needed guys like him. Vardan had done okay for himself but nothing had been handed to him.

The guy with the junk food piled it all on the counter and then did a last recon of the candy display to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Over by the lotto machine, the nerd was staring at the ticket it had just spit out.

“Oh my God, Christo,” he said. “I won …”

He held out the ticket for his friend to see and that’s when the old lady finally came out of the bathroom, trailed by a stench so potent Vardan could taste it. She took one look at the nerd with the lottery ticket in his hand and went off.

“Give me that,” she yelled, grabbing for it. The nerd recoiled and put up his arms to defend himself. “I put money in the machine and that’s my ticket,” the old lady screeched. She flailed at the nerd with her small, bony fists.

The guy at the counter looked at Vardan. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

Read the rest of it here.