There are big curse words and little curse words in anybody’s language. A little cursing isn’t hardly cursing at all. A child could do it and everyone round the supper table would laugh, turn red, and stick a bun in that sour young mouth while secretly making a note to tell every one of their friends just what their beastly wee urchin had said last night on the subject of his pea soup.
18 months ago I took over Apex as editor–I wanted to learn and I hoped to have an effect on the magazine and the field, highlighting new authors and printing stories that might not have found homes elsewhere. It’s not for me to judge whether I succeeded at that task, but a girl can hope.