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Fan-Generated Content 
Read all about it.
Fans offer their take on characters from The Maxx. Non-Maxx
art also welcome!


Twisted poetry and prose.

"a fragment of possibly upsetting fan fiction" by Tom Lee
        She tied the ends of the thread together, completing the loop, and 
the loop became a doorway.

        It had to be done.  Neil had hidden the razor blades and the 
kitchen knives again, so she could not turn to them to release her from the 
pain.  Then she had thought of her sewing kit.  And the needles.

        She saw it.  The loop began to change.  She was not crazy.

        Needles are different from razor blades, you know.  They're not 
just sharp.  They carry thread with them.  The pain was almost the same, 
and the blood, but there was the knowledge that she was creating something. 
The pain would carry something with it.  Somehow that felt better.

        She let her hands fall.  The loop stood on its own.  Dried blood, 
perhaps, or some other force.  There was something stretched across the 
interior of the loop, and patterns swirled across it, like a film of soap.

        Into one side, then the other, she had pushed the needle, and each 
time the physical pain had brought blessed oblivion, but only for a moment. 
Again and again, around and around.  For a moment she had had a pain-induced 
hallucination that her right hand glowed as she worked.  She thought, as
always, that perhaps one day she would manage to replace the old scars on her
inner thighs with new ones of her own.  They would still be scars, but they
would be hers.

        And now that it was finished, she found that she had created 
something, after all.  Sitting there on her bed, which she had covered with 
newspaper to catch the blood, she had opened up the way for something to 
come into this world.  And now, her breathing still quick from the pain and 
exertion, she waited for it.

"point less."by Ezra

where's my art of self denial, my blurring self?
i guess
i have no
lost nonfiction stories of abuse in childhood,
or stylized spirit animal,
or hooded outback of mediocre pain.

i hope
there was
no point
in my BB-shot chickadee
to winter branches.
just a momentary aftermath of
yellow tears and blood stuffed in
a snow drift against our tar papered house.

i never looked for it inspring.
i hope its bones are gone
and i am sorry

that is all.

A Wilder Land by W. Keith Work

WKW's story has moved! He's set up a new, seperate site for the fanfic piece, which can be found here. The story is really starting to pick up, so check it out!
is™ and © Sam Kieth.
Dwellers of the Outback created and maintained by Chris Caughey.