Saturday, October 3, 2009


Just got done reading three stories from the latest issue of THUGLIT.

Jimmy Callaway tells you about YOUR OWN SATURDAY NIGHT. His narrator is one slick son of a bitch. The angle he thinks up, seemingly off the top of his head? Fucking brilliant.

The story's got 7-11s, cartoons, Burger King and fucking Choose Your Own Adventure books (I loved those things as a kid!) in it so what's not to love? Oh, yeah, and Fosters, Australian for bee-uh!

Meanwhile, Mike MacLean hands over a LITTLE GUN. 12 years old and this kid is a better shot than most men twice his age. In fact, his partner, his mom's ex-boyfriend, Ray, lets the kid do all the work while he disposes of all the evidence afterwards.

No one would expect a kid, right?

But there's a trade-off, of course. Kid's more socially awkward than the class nerd.

Them's the breaks, though, right?

Finally, Matthew Quinn Martin talks about CHICKENS. Not those chickens, let me assure you. No, he's talking about the human variety, those that don't stand up for themselves, letting themselves get pushed around.

I wrote Matthew earlier today and told him that his narrator was "ruthless and worthless". Trust me on this one.

And the ending is so right. This is a beautifully dark tale.

Check all of these puppies out. You won't be disappointed.

1 comment:

Jimmy Callaway said...

Mr. Grant--Chris--you're a beautiful man. I want to thank you for your warmth and compassion.

Sorry, dude, I just watched Ferris Bueller again the other day. In all seriousness, thank you as always for the kind and heartfelt words. I'm real, real fucking proud of this story and that I cracked Thuglit. And it might sound at least a little like bullshit when I say I would not have done it without the support of you and the rest of my beloved colleagues here in Neo-Noir Land. But I assure you: bullshit, it is not.