Editorial

As the editor of a small press webzine, I am frequently asked where I get my ideas.

The answer, of course, is that I don’t. I haven’t had an idea since 1977, when a small starling flew over my house in the middle of the night and unknowingly inspired the seventeen book epic travelogue that dominated my output during the eighties. Titled Around the general area of Raceview, it recounted my travels in and around the suburbs where I was born, walking to and from the shop, in what one critic described as “laborious and tepid detail”. Without a dictionary handy, I can only assume this was high praise indeed.

But publishing other peoples’ stories isn’t all about me. No, really, that’s kind of you, but it’s not. One of the things I’m increasingly asked since Moonlight Tudor began publishing is “Where do you get other peoples’ ideas from?”

There’s no one simple answer. There are, though, two simple answers.

Firstly, I get them while washing my dog, Psychic Imbalance the Third. Often PItT will bark loudly into my ear with his suds-filled slobber, and the resultant trickle down into my lower ear leads to a kind of epiphany of either wisdom or earache, depending on the consistency.

The other place I get ideas for other peoples’ stories is while reading other peoples’ stories. In days past, this is what’s known as the grandfather paradox, based on the notion that if you travel into the future and marry your own grandfather, the offspring will then sire a child whose nostril contains the remains of a shrunken universe. Or something like that; the precise details are presumably irrelevant.

Which brings us to this, the latest, most popular issue of Midnight Tuber. In these “stories” you will find mayhem, mystery and fast cars. At least I assume that is what you will find; these days all the “actual” editing is of course automated, and I spend the bulk of my time on message boards on the “Intertube”, loudly complaining about the lack of awards I have received for my minimal output, and penning bizarre, unsupportable political diatribes about the situation in Upper Stockholm.

I trust that this explanation has answered the question succinctly.

With all this in mind, I hope that you enjoy this issue of “The Tuber”, or, if you are reading this editorial last, that you will enjoy it in the past when the universe contracts.

Now. Supper!


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