Continuing on...
Despite the disappointing ending, the night was fun, and I continued to click on the McSweeney's website every day. When I became employed, I used some of my new income to subscribe to the quarterly journal. The first issue I received was #13, an issue entirely devoted to comics -- not something I'd usually read, but it was entertaining. Number 14 was solid. I found my name in issue #15; I should have known that marked the beginning of the end. Number 16 was awkwardly packaged and contained a plastic comb.
Issue #17 was packaged as a bundle of mail, and was short on the short stories. I ended up throwing most of it in the garbage -- which is where I anticipate placing much of the current quarterly. Issue #19 comes in a cigar box, and consists largely off odd, old pamphlets and public records. A grand total of four works of fiction are included, and I enjoyed only one of them.
My point (finally), is that I, a loyal, pretentious McSweeneyite, paid for a subscription to a literary journal, and now receive an interesting but forgettable piece of art every three months. I want my fiction back. I want my attractive-yet-traditionally-bound volumes back. Please, Dave -- all you've ever done for me is write my favorite book, sign one of my favorite books, and edit the quarterly that consumes the vast majority of my leisurely reading time. Do me a favor. Think outside the cigar box. Simplify, man!
No comments:
Post a Comment