Last night, in my dreams, I was in a small town. They were having their annual outdoors food event thing and, as usual, Stephen King had come to help cook. I thought I would take the opportunity to say hey I think you're pretty great but came off really awkward, saying something pathetic about On Writing and he, though polite, was pretty dismissive of me and I was just about to sulk stupidly off when I noticed he was wearing an Arkham Tales tshirt under his fleece. Hey! I said. Arkham Tales! I just published a story with them?
Oh? he said warily. Which story?
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
And then he got quite excited. He began instructing me in how to go about getting it turned into a movie. He left his post and we stepped inside a bookstore and he grabbed book after book on storyboarding. Finally he sent me on my way to --- I don't know --- Hollywood, I guess --- laden with books.
The thing was, I'm really not sure how closely he read the story. He didn't even get that it was about **********s.
(Note: those of you warned off this story earlier should remain warned off it now.)