Josh Rubin writes about Shelley Jackson (no, she didn’t write “The Lottery”, and I know that was Shirley), who is organizing a project to tattoo her short story on 2095 volunteers, one word per person:
Participants must accept the word they are given, but they may choose the site of their tattoo, with the exception of words naming specific body parts, which may be anywhere but the body part named. Tattoos must be in black ink and a classic book font. Words in fanciful fonts will be expunged from the work.
I hope it’s a good story. Here’s an essay by a woman who got ‘the’, poor thing. Of course, I guess that would hurt a lot less than, say, ‘discombobulation’.
DarrenBarefoot.com 