THE RED ANTHOLOGY
Once upon a time, short stories were but another dreary airless satellite orbiting the axis of our consumer space/time, to which official entrance was barred to all, save those who possessed suitcases full of bribe money or knowledge of the secret handshake. Then came the Red Anthology, which, like Tesla's epiphany, single-handedly shattered every assumption under which the firmament of publishing had been anchored. Now the last remnants of the old order cling to mountain-crags in tattered silk suits; a celebration in the valley has begun. Finally, we have outstanding short fiction available for purchase.
EDIFICATION AS TO WHY WE STARTED THE RED ANTHOLOGY
will take place here
Once upon a time, short stories were but another dreary airless satellite orbiting the axis of our consumer space/time, to which official entrance was barred to all, save those who possessed suitcases full of bribe money or knowledge of the secret handshake. Then came the Red Anthology, which, like Tesla's epiphany, single-handedly shattered every assumption under which the firmament of publishing had been anchored. Now the last remnants of the old order cling to mountain-crags in tattered silk suits; a celebration in the valley has begun. Finally, we have outstanding short fiction available for purchase.
EDIFICATION AS TO WHY WE STARTED THE RED ANTHOLOGY
will take place here