(J M McD sez: Toda's regular blog post has been circumvented in favor of the important message from Squishy, President of Space Squid, Inc., and all Intergalactic Cepholapodiumic holdings, May He Reign in Ink. All below is the translation efforts of his loyal earthling meatbag scribe, Matthew Bey.)
When we started Space Squid, we had the idea that we were taking things into our own hands. It was clear to us (Steve Wilson, D Chang, and I, Matthew the freaking Bey) that sci-fi was going down the tubes. Nobody wanted to read sci-fi short stories, and who can blame the readers? The ruling elites of the genre had grown old and dull. Science fiction had become the literary equivalent of folk music in an elevator.
Five years later, and everything has changed. Space Squid has grown to become the defining publishing instrument of the new millennium, consistently redefining science fiction in new and exciting ways. Our particular cocktail of sci-fi, cartoons, and sultry cover models has woken up a sleepy little literary genre consistently spurned by the likes of Margaret Atwood. We have published groundbreaking works by successful authors like J.M. McDermott, Patrice Sarath, and Chris Roberson and various unnamed other people. And most importantly, we have stood by our burning hatred of Mikal Trimm against all odds and reason.
People say to me, “Hey, dude, how is it that you managed to consistently redefine science fiction and brought a sleazy DIY zine into international prominence?” To which I reply, dude, I’m glad you asked that. The answer is simple: branding. The first step was taking the disparate elements of our business plan and amalgamating them into a quasi-anthropomorphic corporate mascot. Squishy the Squid strikes straight into the branding centers of a consumer’s brain. The wide, watery eyes trigger a basic suckling instinct, and by association, a deep desire for hard-hitting sci-fi.
The secret of Space Squid is that we have embraced the fundamental truth of the new media: People don’t want to waste their time reading. Reading involves effort and background knowledge. That’s why we have given our fans so many different ways to participate in the Space Squid experience without having to tax their pretty little brains. We organize the most decadent parties in the science fiction universe, filled with burlesque dancers, pig decapitation, and clay working. And we have funpage puzzles that are twice as fun as anything made by that bastard Will Shortz.
So as you’re reading about how the Hugo nomination went to some semiprozine other than Space Squid, you can relax comfortably in the knowledge that those old fuddy-duddies were never going to appreciate something this awesome anyways.