NEWDIE STEADSLAW is a randomized array of Chekhov's red herrings, non sequitors ex machina, run-on sentences, and em dashes—so many em dashes. It's like if the Bible and Shakespeare had a baby that they surrendered to foster care, then it got adopted by Alice in Wonderland and Dr. Seuss—the books, not the people—and then the baby fell down the stairs. In this metaphor, the stairs wrote the story.

Part I is the tale of the adventures of Traycup and Roby as they try to hold down a job inside the hollow Earth—a place made possible thanks to the secret science of embargoed relativity—and they get distracted by dancing foxes, a giant's record collection, and something with a train, I think. It's a work of fiction—although to call it work seems insulting to, y'know, actual work—but the fiction label is apt, so, y'know, that's a win. Half the words are made up, and the other half are embarrassed to be seen with them.

Part I is complete.