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Editors say: “Send something that dazzles us.” It doesn’t have to dazzle. It doesn’t have to do anything. It can sit on its ass and watch TV. Send us something that does what it wants. Send us something that stands there and stares. Maybe it likes to eat cereal? Maybe it likes Frosted Flakes or Sugar Pops, the ones that aren’t good for you? Maybe it likes to tilt the bowl while its eating the cereal and slurp the milk while it stares. That’s right, tilts the bowl up and lets the milk run down its chin while it stares. That’s more of less what we want. But please, it doesn’t have to make us uncomfortable either. And doesn’t have to be your best. There’s too much “best” going around. “Best” rolls past on a conveyor belt and looks like , uh, some widget that fell out of your nose. We discussed all this with “the team.” Don’t need to discuss it again. Figured we’d put:

‘Send us your worst.’

But edit your worst carefully. Make sure its your best worst.

We all have the same day job: Bulldozing landfills of bullshit. That’s why the printing presses turn on at night. There’s a single ON switch, just that one, and we’re not unionized so we don’t have to get someone’s permission to throw it. After midnight, you hear the whir. Fluorescent lighting sputters and begins to hum. The presses make that kuh-chunk kuh-chunk kuh chunk sound. All night long maniacal laughter echoes through Orphan Paper’s back rooms, out into the always rain spattered back alley behind our factory.

We’re hard working. Our team of editors don’t use the rest room. For one, we don’t have one. But the issue is: after coming back from their day jobs, none of them have time for that. They’re so committed they pee and poop in their pants and keep right on working. That’s one of the reasons they sneer. Doing their business in their pants is nasty and contrary and smells and makes them hard on the inside. Our editors sneer for no reason whatsoever. They’ll sneer at whatever you send them, whether its good or bad.

We want novella length works primarily, greater than 20,000 words but doesn’t have to be. We actually don’t care. We throw our weight around but only care about food. We like mustard, and olives. We publish what slurps the cereal bowl.


We’re trying to build something that doesn’t fit.