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desperanceDear Story:
Yes, I love that you are about Oscar Wilde. On Mars. I admire the hell out of your dynamic blend of the seedy, the world-weary and the vigorous; I am intrigued by your scientific principle and your proposed use of opium cigarettes.
Nevertheless, I find myself compelled to ask: why, O story, why the hell are you called "The Astrakhan, The Homburg and The Red Red Coal"? And why must it fall to me - to me! - to justify this slide into abstraction?
Yours Sincerely,
The Author (much beset)
Yes, I love that you are about Oscar Wilde. On Mars. I admire the hell out of your dynamic blend of the seedy, the world-weary and the vigorous; I am intrigued by your scientific principle and your proposed use of opium cigarettes.
Nevertheless, I find myself compelled to ask: why, O story, why the hell are you called "The Astrakhan, The Homburg and The Red Red Coal"? And why must it fall to me - to me! - to justify this slide into abstraction?
Yours Sincerely,
The Author (much beset)