The Vivisections, Case 2
Episode 2: Parishioners of the Drought
This story’s not a corpse yet. Where it dangles, hung by its neck on public display—it’s still thrashing. Kicking its tired little legs, drawing crowds. Let’s lower this baby on down to the ground while it still screams.
We gotta cut into it a bit. Gotta count its rings.
What This Is:
These vivisections are full, live dissections of a published story. This isn’t going to be a tidy retelling. This is a slice-by-slice exposure of my professional creative process.
What You Get:
Full story cycle: concept - drafts - editing - rejections - acceptance - finalization - publication - final thoughts
Raw documents: drafts, revisions, published story
Screenshots of cover letters, editorial feedback, correspondence
Footnoted draft progression: what changed, why, thoughts
Commentary that’s not bullshit. I’m not glorifying this or trashing it.
Welcome to the Knife
Pull up a chair and be careful not to scratch the floor. At your desk, you will find some tools you’ll need post-demonstration if you’re to continue work in this field.
Project Word Count Tracker - Instructions included in link
Submission Tracker - Very self-explanatory
Standard Manuscript Format (SHUNN) - Memorize
“Here.”
*hands you a blood-smeared tape recorderPress record
Let’s write up the report.
Parishioners of the Drought
Vitals and PHI:
The previous decade and a half had given me an ever-failing heart, a spiteful, violent gaze, and a deepening understanding of what misanthropy truly, truly meant. People will tell you fiction isn't political--they say it all the time. They'll read stories like this, share them; christ, call them their favorites--and they still won't get it.
I watched Bezos take a trip into low-orbit on a fucking whim while 300 million children were dying of starvation. He coughed up 10k for Australia during the
fire, which is the equivalent to the average person spending about a dollar.
He'd have done more if he'd spit on it.
People protested police brutality, police murder, executions. My neighbors spraypainted a KKK on my fence.
This story is about Capitalism. It's about Fascism.
You force people to dig their own grave enough times, one of those graves is going to be for you.
Remove the sheet.