Welcome to fast food Horror, where we serve up the most deliciously rancid,
tasty horror short stories to satiate your creepy appetites. In today's tale, an
author has to deal with some criticism in a tail called The Devil Is in
the Details by E. J. Miller. Where is it? Where?
Where the where is it? There? It is ha ha there. It
is nothing like starting off your day with a with a little bit of an
eye opener. Oh, don't judge. If you or me, you'd be
doing the same damn thing. But you're not. You're not me. You're
not living in a six bedroom Malibu beach front home with an indoor heated pool,
sauna, tennis court, and of course jakuzi with your own private beach.
Are you. No, you're not because you're not a nineteen time New
York Times bestseller. You don't have eight movies in your credits with three others
in development, do you? And you certainly don't have the number of Pulitzers,
Edgars and new Bury Awards that I have, do you. You don't
have the Porsche and the Lamborghini. You don't have the house and the Hamptons
and the second in Aspen when you feel like playing skier, and when people
speak of you, they don't call you the king of thrillers and an American
treasure. They don't call you the revolutionary mind bringing the art of storytelling to
levels not seen since Poe and Lovecraft. I am a literary god. And
you know what my favorite part is. It's no, it's not the writing.
It's not the ought of telling a story. Please, and it's definitely
not the adoring fans. Gag me. It's not seeing my movies on screens
on five different continents. It's today. Today, my mail gets delivered from
my manager's office. It's a park. I love making him jump through hoops.
Today is royalty Day. I know, why not have the checks automatically
deposited into my account, But there's something so satisfying, a gratification of a
different level that you will never know of opening an envelope and seeing a check
with that many zeros made out to you, well, not you to me.
Korea Diamond royalty check, royalty check, royalty check, request for an
interview denied, requests to be on a writer's panel as if denied, request
for an interview denied, and a note from my editor. I wonder what
he wants. Let's see your new manuscript. Blah blah blah, riveting as
always, blah blah blah, chilling blah blah. Request for edits of the
following pages. Edits pages. I found the description to be unrealistic and substandard
in detail. Please research, revise, and resubmit. Unrealistic, substandard.
That little no talent wanna be said my work was unrealistic, substandard, substandard,
needing research and revision. Does he know who he is speaking to?
I am not some Johnny come Lately. I'm not some newby. I am
an American treasure. I am Korea diamond. Let's see those pages, pages,
pages, the torture scene, the torture scene. That's what I'm known
for. That is my calling card, The intricate detail I put into each
murder, painting the pain, the carnage, and bringing the reader into an
experience of murder, bringing the reader into a mccabbre the only way I can
with such realism. That they not only have nightmares, they have f and
PSD. And he questions me that no talent wanna be. That's why he's
an editor and not a creative not awe writer. That's why he does what
he does, correct and grammar and punctuation like some schoolmarm. And that's why
no one knows his name. That's why no one will remember him. I
have more talent in my pinky. I'll show him. Not realistic? Do
you believe him? He says, says, my scene isn't realistic. That
little no account, no nothing, half wit pencil pusher said, my description
of blood spattering on the walls when the victim is being whipped lacked imagination and
depth, depth and imagination. Fine, he wants research. You know what
that means. Stop your whining. Just gonna turn you around. And oh,
here's my cat of nine tails and ah ah ah ah ah, I
have to take notes. Oh look at that blood spatter as it dribbles in
tiny rivulets down the wall, each one marking the streams of pain that was
extracted. Oh oh that's gold. Oh that is so good. Let's see
what else orts someone else? Let's see what else? Are you kidding?
The extraction sequence where the victim has his teeth removed with pliers. I love
that part. That was so much fun. Didn't we have fun? We
spent a lot of time researching that one. Didn't we Why aren't you whimpering
and terror? Oh that's right, we're moved all your teeth. I guess
we'll have to let that one go to edit. Maybe find a few adjectives
to drop in here and there and pretty it up. Let's see what else,
Let's see what else? What? Look what he wrote here? Look
what he wrote here? The scene doesn't draw him in. He doesn't feel
like he's there experiencing the ordeal with all his senses. He said, My
attempt was vague and soft. Moric. Stop whimpering. That's so distracting and
inconsiderate. It's my work and research being criticized. Where is the cattle proud?
Where is that found it? So let's pay attention this time to the
smells and sounds the cattle prod produces. Shall we you passed out again?
Again? Now pay attention. You are no help. You got two prods
in before you passed out. But don't worry. I kept going. I
believe we can bring the reader in, especially when I described the smell of
ozone with burnt flesh, which incidentally smells like bacon. Okay, last at
it. Seriously, it wouldn't sound like glass. The sound of a hand
shattering after being submerged in liquid nitrogen wouldn't sound like glass, he said,
It wasn't realistic. You were there, didn't it sound like glass? Of
you? Stop your whining. You have another hand. I didn't kill you.
You're still here, aren't you. That's a good team player. So
just give me your hand and we'll submerge it in the bucket. Now the
sledgehammer, And well, damn, damn, that sounded more like a plate
than glass, didn't It was I playing the music too loud the last time
I have a tendency to play my music loud when I'm creating and researching.
That must have been it. Okay, thank you so much for helping.
And hey, hey, hey, don't diemy kid. In my new draft
I'm working on, there's a cannibal scene kind of like Hannibal Elector meets Indiana
Jones Temple of Doom thing where he removes the heart from the guy's chest and
he's still alive. So much better. The devil is in the details.