Clive Barker. His Lord of Illusions short story contest inspired me to write this story of a child preacher and the apocalypse that begins at Disneyland. I think Clive had been on some talk show mentioning how much the ride horrified him (as it does all right thinking people) and suddenly the idea was there.
I won the contest, which was cool; even better were the kind words in the letter he wrote me to tell me my story was full of "fluent style and poetic dialogue" and the big hug I got when I first met him and told him that I wrote that story. Clive is a swell guy: every time I see him, he seems to remember me (considering how most people seldom remember me, that's a lot). I have seen him greet the last fan in a very long line with the same enthusiasm he had for the first. It's a good life being an imagineer.
This story appears in full at the official American Clive Barker site.
Michael snapped open his folding-table by the exit of "It's
A Small World," one of his favorite spots, despite the risk.
The scissoring legs telescoped toward the pavement and locked with
a pleasing thwack. Other children, some younger, eyed
him surreptitiously, waiting for the show to begin before committing
to the spectacle.
In a single practiced motion, he slipped the
heavy book from the crook of his elbow to the slanted table-top where it
opened at will. Not by my will, but by Thy will, Michael repeated
silently with satisfaction. He shaded his eyes to scan the well-tanned pages.
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