Inky Beast By M. J. Nicholls

[Lester Curtis]

(Note to self: if ever offered a job in a publishing company, abandon everything and relocate to another continent immediately.)

Mr. Nicholls seems to have found his Dark side and destroyed whatever restraints it may have had on it.

The material isn't exactly new . . . I recall more than one story about publishers, agents, etc., gone wrong, from decades ago. This one stands out, though, by its wall-to-wall viciousness. It is grand in scope.

Some of the characterizations may have been pushed a little too far, but they're still within the set boundaries of the piece (such as those are).

A couple of details caught my attention . . .

he imagined a dozen donkeys dumping their bowels around the office until the entire room was seven cubic feet of whiffy excreta.

might have worked better as "seven feet deep in . . . "

A strategy of desks broke loose from the creative throng

A strategy of desks?? They really are creative, aren't they?

forty million lesiures

try "lesions"
. . . and the word "poop" seemed strangely out of place here . . .

Minor quibbles, though; it all worked. It's fun to read something this far off the hook once in a while.