This special issue is dedicated to Eirik and Monica. Last month, they were airlifted to Stanford, California, where Eirik is actively waiting for a double-lung transplant. And, by “actively” we mean the phone call could literally come at any moment and they’ll be off to the hospital for life-saving (albeit really scary-ass) surgery.

As writers we wanted to do something to help and…it turns out there’s not a whole lot we can do. I mean, seriously, no one wants a writer doing advanced thoracic surgery, right? And some of us aren’t even allowed to think about transporting organs since that incident with the kidneys back in ’09. So as much as we wanted to help our friends, we realized there’s a finite limit to what we can do.

That said, writers are good for nothing if not producing meaningful Internet-based distraction. At the least, we could give Eirik and Monica something to read for a little while and maybe briefly take their mind off “the phone call.” As we’ve noted before, waiting for a bus is annoying; we can only imagine how frustrating it is waiting for new organs.

So, inspired by the likes of Bob Geldof’s Band Aid and Little Steven’s Sun City boycott, we decided to bring together a group of writers from the JDP community to provide a little escapism and maybe raise some awareness of Eirik’s situation in the bargain. (Just, you know, with infinitely less publicity than either of those other projects.)

Bono wasn’t invited. (Werner insisted.)

The result is pure JDP — we’ve got stories about Bigfoot, dead things, New Coke, and time travel, plus a poem about first curse words. Oh, and Ally Malinenko wraps things up by making the rest of us look bad and writing something really fucking touching. We hope you — and Eirik and Monica — enjoy it all.

And what can you, stalwart reader, do to help? First and foremost, they’re still looking for good cold cash to help offset transplant-related expenses not covered by insurance. You can make a donation on Eirik’s official COTA site.

Whether or not you can spare any coin, you can also help by getting the word out. A simple mention on Facebook, Twitter, or your blog would be amazing.

Finally, please direct whatever you’ve got – be it good thoughts, prayers, or (preferably) the healing power of The Force – towards Stanford.

As readers and writers of speculative fiction, heroes and magic are our stock and trade. Now we’re asking you to be one and make a little.

So step up, because Hulk smash cystic fibrosis, dammit.