"Alphanumerica" published in the *Evergreen Review*

[Prestidigitweeze]

I'm moved beyond human reason to report that my story "Alphanumerica" appears in the current issue of what is now the online magazine Evergreen Review. The story enjoyed first-item status last week, but I hesitated to tell you about it until I'd finished toying with the first paragraph. (Will it ever forgive me?)

Evergreen Review Issue 130

The Evergreen Review was founded by Barney Rosset (of Grove Press), the man who fought against censorship by first publishing and defending James Joyce's Ulysses, and who also first published and edited the work of Samuel Beckett in English.

[cromag]

Thanks for pointing me towards that! Gotta love stories in the second person. (But I'm not so sure about "Nictitating.")

Again, thanks!

[Prestidigitweeze]

Thanks for reading "Alphanumerica," Cromag, and for the feedback and support!

The story is in second person to convey the feeling of subjectivity and confusion in the protag.

Nictitate by itself can simply mean to wink. The writer who uses it that way is probably complicating the reader's life just to avoid a synonym, though, which I'd rather not do.

A nictitating membrane, however, is a specific aspect of animal biology (familiar to us in snakes and reptiles) and requires equally specific terminology.

Webster's definition

The alternative is make people recognize a nictitating membrane simply by describing it. I might have done that if the descriptions weren't dense already, and if they didn't have to propel the narrative.

[cromag]

Oh, I wasn't questioning the definition. I kept lizards as pets until my girlfriend became my wife and we decided to raise a couple kids, instead. Turns out lizards are less trouble (and wa-aaa-ay less expensive).

Just wasn't sure I "loved" what was being described. Peeling back membranes and the like. Sorry if that wasn't clear. It was, however, a very effective description.

[Prestidigitweeze]

Then the feelings evoked by the image are what you're objecting to, which means the description worked -- good to know. Your initial comment concerned me because I thought you'd considered my use of the word arbitrary, which is something I try to avoid.

I hadn't expected anyone to love that description either unless they needed to find words for the sensation of something vague and awful in the mind becoming concrete.

When planning that piece in my head, I considered it to be social satire in the form of metaphysical horror -- anthropological murder without a body count, in which the only casualty is a group of people's collective sense of history, identity and self-awareness. I've noticed that audiences react strongly to the satirical aspect when I read it aloud. Their amusement might something to do with the fact that the majority who laugh are familiar with the neighborhood that inspired the story.

Admittedly, though, I wasn't entirely unamused myself while writing it.