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Writers Needed For Literary Magazine

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Hi --


I'm starting an online literary magazine with a classic gaming/retro electronica theme. The name of the magazine is Beep! Bop! Boop! Having been a member of AA for some time, I know that many of the members here also like to write, so I figured I would announce it here first.


I'm seeking well crafted creative non-fiction, cultural/philosophical analysis, poetry, and short fiction with a focus on electronics, computers, video games, and electronic toys from the early 70s to the mid 80s.


Beep! Bop! Boop! is not interested in game reviews, technical articles, straight history, or fan fiction.


Please email submissions, queries or questions to editor@beepbopboop.com (no attachments please)


At this point I cannot pay for submissions. I only ask for 1st electronic rights and the right to keep the accepted piece in the online archives.


Beep! Bop! Boop! is parked at my heavysixer.com domain right now, but it will be moved to it's own site for the premier issue. Right now you can also go to http://beepbopboop.heavysixer.com.

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I don't mind dark. And I don't mind working with AA members on pieces that may have potential (if they want constructive criticism). I'm looking for pieces that are active/showing (vivid detail, dialogue, strong focus, well structured) instead of passive/telling.

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my stuff is really detailed but odd.. if you want to email me we can talk further and you can help me know what exactly you are looking for :)


example of some odd stuff, i can write stuff with structure and detail too, but just to show you sometimes that i can go pretty far off into insane.. wrote this quite a while ago but it illustrates my penchant for strange imagery and snap of the neck changes.



"im sitting in my room of 4 walls no doors, they open to brick stacked in symettric rows. my windows face straight down, looking at the pale asphalt. i scream and not a sound. i yell at myself and ask where i am and i hear nothing. i am the silence speaker. i open my mouth and air comes out, words evoporate like rain and hover above my head. all the could have and should haves fall down on me like acid rain, corroding deep into my soul, scarring my mind. i look in a mirror and nearly scream, the face i see looking back at me is strange. i dont know this face i am looking at. i wink and it winks, but this isnt me. i run and try to escape but i fall into the doorway of lost days. i walk to the window and turn my head upwards to the sky. i see black with yellow lines. i look down. black with yellow lines. is this some sick kind of trick? is someone out there secerly laughing at me? I turn on the telivision to escape. nothing. no fuzz to stare into no sounds from the dark box. i change the channels, nothing. channel 13 sounds good. as my pale fingers thumb around the remote, it turns into a snake.. slithrering and creepy. it snaps at me and i think it bites but it goes thru me. am i even real? i have no voice i feel nothing and i see the ghost face staring back at me. i crawl up the bed to lay down. quicksand. the lazy yesterdays of the past where i wasted away my life come back. im plastered to the bed, i cant move. i am sinking faster and faster, down and down into the dark recesses of my prison, with a uniform of scars, striping my exposed flesh. my fingernails dissapear when i try to scratch my back, just like when i needed to get something done i hesitated until it was too late. i lay down in the bed and look at the celing. its getting lower and lower. the room lets out a deep bellowing groul as the drywall shatters my nightmares and hallucinations.



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