September 12th, 2022 - Evolution

Dear TNY,

This fucking year is whizzing by as I am reading “Evolution” and it’s already September.

And this story was professionally abysmal.  Like, I mean to say that this story took being a suckfest so seriously, it’s the fucking CEO of suckfests. It gets paid max dollars to suck all over the fucking map.

How, you ask?

One, the ER scene in the beginning is fucking useless (other than, in my opinion, to foreshadow (ish) Brody ditching this girl’s ass later, which goes unsaid, so, you know, what’s the fucking point), but if it were to be kept in the story (which, based on my reading of this story, everything was kept because this story hasn’t been edited at all), it needs to be compressed to less than half its size. Also, the ER story seems be necessary in the eyes of the author and the editor to bookend this story , but this story works without either fucking scene, so why include that shit at all? And I mean this story “works” without them in the sense that it would suck less if they were gone, but still be the CEO of sucking.

Two, how does the author manage to render a story that is about fucking and hitchhiking so goddamn boring?  I think it was page 6 (on my edit) in which I made a little note for myself referencing how this story was the type of story that someone starts telling you at a party and you very quickly realize that the “storyteller” has told it many times before (even rehearsed it) because they like it and they think it makes them more interesting, but in reality is the type of thing you just sit through and wait for it to be over (and/or you beg your body to manufacture drizzly shits so you can hop to and get some cover behind a locked door, but knowing this lady she’d be at that door telling you this shit through that slot between the bottom of the door and the threshold while you bled from the anus).

Three, “…a zealot of every orifice.”  Are you fucking kidding me with how goddamn cornball that is?  I don’t care what your individual sexual kinks (or lack thereof) are.  You do you.  I’ll do me.  Sometimes it’s a good fit.  Sometimes it’s not.  I’m saying that so you know that I don’t give a fuck about the acts in this story or otherwise.  Hell, the more the merrier.  Take that dick in your pooper in front of Russell, you saucy minx.  What I am saying is that phrase in quotes up there reads like it was written by a fucking teen who has never fucked.  Hell, hasn’t even put her own fingers in herself.  I mean, fuck my face, lady.  You established that you were a grown ass woman writing this story as a memory (see kids near the end as evidence).  So, am I to believe that you say shit like this and think it’s good? That must be true as this story, adult evidence given, cannot be written with an ignorant, young voice. So, that was a conscious choice.  Holy fuckballs is that dumb.  That’s some of the most juvenile shit I’ve ever fucking read.

Four, speaking of juvenile, this story includes first person narrative use of the word “ha ha”.  No, it’s not in dialog.  It’s written as part of the narration to us, the readers.  Like this is some kind of text story or a fucking TikTok.

Five, voice. This is so fucking stale. There is nothing clever anywhere in it. Like, the writing doesn’t pop. It doesn’t sing. It’s not squeaky clean. It’s not vibrant. Has no discernible pace. Or authority. I guess maybe I’m reiterating that “bad story at a party” thing. It’s just devoid of life in every possible way. But I’m more and more convinced that even if good stories came across your desk, you’d still print this shit because that’s what the demographic is buying. I can definitely imagine this woman is the type of woman that would love this story (especially as she is the one who would bore your ass with it at the party).

So, I’m talking directly to you, Debby T, what fucking gives with this shit-ass work?  Like, this is the legacy you want to have?  That you ha ha’ed with the zealot of every orifice?  This is the hill you’re willing to die on?  This story which wouldn’t make it through a high school creative writing workshop?  What’s going on down there at TNY?  Because it reeks of incompetence.  Like, of all the fucking stories you could be publishing, because I’m certain that you see thousands and thousands a year, you plucked this motherfucker up and said, yes!  It’s edgy!  We think she takes it in the butt! In a recliner! In front of another man!  Fuck me, guys.  This is straight up trash.  It’s embarrassing.  You should be fucking embarrassed.  I’m embarrassed for you.

I’ll get on Condé Nast after I send you this letter you’ll never read and apply for a job.  I’m sure you’ll have me.

In other news, I put the engine together minus the flywheel (the ring gear needs to be replaced but the guy who knows shit isn’t responding because who the fuck knows why, so I’ll take it in tomorrow to get it heated off and put on reverse and clock the wear away from the engines natural stop spots).  Maybe it will blow up.  Maybe not.  But it feels like I’ve accomplished something in this moment.  That will pass I’m sure. 

In that same vein, I was cooking up some food last night and thinking about what I did this summer with my sons.  We really did it.  Like, really fucking did it.  And as I am writing this now, thinking about your shitty fiction, and a 19 year career as fiction editor, which encompasses the vast majority of the stories I’ve read from TNY…I’m leading a far grander life.  My legacy will be living.  Your legacy will be a zealot for every orifice. 

My God.  What a world.

Nick