Taco Bell Quarterly is The World's Most Prestigious Literary Magazine. Unaffiliated with Daddy Taco. We publish the boundaries of cease and desist. tacobellquarterly.org
This is how you become a writer: just pick one of the things that is deeply wrong with you. Make it a character. Now send it on a self-help journey or try to kill it. Now call it a book.
I was excitedly clicking who was liking what on every post and following them, when the only thing everybody was doing was putting a Taco Bell reference in their writing and submitting it to a WordPress site, I didn't let the devastation of that stop me from myself and my worst impulses
It helps if you published their friend! But I didn't know this. When the agent clicked heart on a contributor's post, I got overexcited and imagined TBQ was being "perused" by literary agents now. We were on issue 2, it was 2020, and I am delusional. I'm announcing my book tomorrow!
Will books survive this modern era? They survive all eras. People will write in ink made from soot and paper made from skin. If books aren't around, we're not around! The obituaries they write are their own.
I am so powerful my therapist once broke the boundaries of the therapeutic relationship to confide they were also a writer and had been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul
My ADHD ass didn't even organize the citations, I just bookmarked everything and figured I'd remember everything and find it later. I actually don't recommend this though. It was painful when later came
I am kind of low-key excited about the upcoming birthday cake empanadas in a collab with milk bar. It'll probably make you shit yourself and cost $4.49 for two little deep fried assturds with creme, but it will have sprinkles and I'm a simp
Love seeing this making the rounds again and will always retweet. We published one of the greatest poems of all time, as seen in the most prestigious literary magazine of all time:
Fun fact I've always been notoriously slow at replying to submissions and this sat in our inbox when the fucker died. A shame, he could have seen it if I was faster
I'm like this not because I barely understand social situations but because I understand them all too well after I deconstruct them 10,000 times and begin to think of it as a kind of narrative I could have fixed
I'm like this not because I barely understand social situations but because I understand them all too well after I deconstruct them 10,000 times and begin to think of it as a kind of narrative I could have fixed
Don't worry, none of this is real and I have no feelings when there's a potential essay anecdote to save me from feeling pain. This works better than drugs. Trust me
I don't want a job. I want to be a writer. and if writing never becomes my job I never have to work. I haven't figured out the money part of the plan yet, I'm planning just to die first and then I won't have to write anymore. I have it all figured out. Just follow me for more tips