February 8th, 2021 - A Wrinkle in the Realm

Dear TNY,

I’m glad storytime is over with Grandpa, because that’s exactly what “A Wrinkle in the Realm” sounds like (also, what a doofy-ass title).

Or, better yet, it sounds like a bloviated parable given by a youth minister at Bible Camp.  Do we get to take the canoes out for the afternoon, minister Chad?  Will there be time for s’mores later?  If we win the most medals at Camp Olympics, may we have a chaperoned dance (Christian music only and no touching below the waist)?

Man, I’m over it.  This dogshit is almost entirely summary, which is delivered by the only character that the author cares about, the narrator (read: author; who may be using the “power” of writing a parable such as this (and having it published in TNY, no less) as a mirror much like the MC, but for opposite reasons) as he or she speaks from some all-knowing, powerful place, that is somehow devoid of things like characterization, scene, and, you know, storytelling.  This narrator fails to develop characters that are fleshed out such that we can care about them (and we’ll just say him, as the narrator only ever tried to develop the MC (sadly; because the mask seller was the only interesting character)).  Ultimately, this leads to some kind of bullshit lesson, which we cannot care about because the story develops no empathy for the reader.  This is the samesaid reader who lives in a world starving for empathy.  And you, TNY, continue to publish absolute horsecockery, further establishing a false image of elitism to the uneducated (as in, the uneducated would think a story printed in your magazine was too good for them and they could not understand it, when in reality, the stories are just garbage; the emperor’s new clothes, as it were, which, as generally happens, makes some people think you think you are better than they are when in reality you motherfuckers drunk text your exes and cry while you masturbate and shart at work and cut yourself just to feel something and fingerblast men and women you know you shouldn’t, because you know they want you to be with them but you know you don’t really want to be with them, like support their lives and shit, but you fingerblast away because you are super alone and forgot was it was like to have someone want you to touch them).

So, I am left with the same feeling as I am with nearly every single one of your stories:  Who fucking cares?

These lesson stories always get to me.  If you can’t get us to care about the characters through the writing (characterization, fresh language, dichotomy, something fucking happening, etc), the lesson is just telling me that I’m doing something wrong, even if I’m not.  And you know how many grown ass adults do what falsely established elitists tell them to do? Well…yeah, you’re right.  The majority.  Cool story, bro.  See you in Florida soon.  You can pull up a chair at the big boy table of falsehood at Mar-a-Lago.

Ah shit, I wasn’t supposed to be political this year.  Well, I’ll try to keep it down.

Later tater.

Nick