Editorial
Editorial: May 2020
Be sure to read the editorial for a rundown of this month’s skin-crawling content, plus all our news and updates.
Be sure to read the editorial for a rundown of this month’s skin-crawling content, plus all our news and updates.
When we sat down to write the story, we each brought with us a set of ideas that interested us individually, and over many days and glasses of wine, we found our way into a story that brought those elements together. I’m deeply invested in writing about the working class Latinx experience, but I’d never written horror before. Co-crafting a horror plot was an excellent opportunity to examine the elements of suspense more closely
Readers, Adam-Troy Castro has questions about alpacas. Don’t miss his review of Richard Stanley’s Color Out of Space.
Desperation is very relatable. We’ve all been in situations where we don’t feel good enough. We may have even been shamed for being ourselves or had our trust broken by someone we thought loved us. I think humanizing the supernatural comes easily when you’re being honest. I wrote this story in a blind animalistic frenzy, with no filters and no blueprints except the map of my own experiences. It was a delight to write this and finally crystallize on the page my thoughts about power, injustice, and ultimately, self-love.
Our genre isn’t known for its warm and compassionate embrace of disability. From physical disfigurement to mental illness, those with disabilities are an all-too-convenient Other to demonize. The current battle for greater inclusion in the genres continues to shed light on those stories and voices that have been excluded. As we look beyond race, gender, and sexuality for inclusion and representation, ability is vital for us to reexamine.
Be sure to check out the editorial for a rundown of this month’s content, plus all our news and updates.
Read more. Don’t just read your friends, or who your friends say you should read, or who you’re comfortable reading, or who your model of literature is. Push yourself. Take risks. Read small things, big things, translated things, things in your native language but from different countries. Understand language is fluid, that it’s forever changing, that there are no rules. There are writers of every kind out there doing interesting and fascinating things and you want to find them.
This month, Terence Taylor reviews two books that wrestle with the past: The Sun Down Motel, by Simone St. James, and Remembered, by Yvonne Battle-Felton.
I begin to think most of my horror ideas are the product of dreams, haha. In this case (a little like “Sweet Dreams Are Made of You”), this was inspired by a dream, in which someone was telling me about the Flashlight Man game. My dreams have always trended towards vivid, WTF, and wildly inventive, so whenever I can mine those for (let’s hope coherent!) fiction, I love it.
For the longest time, I’d searched for a proper definition of horror. That whole, “defined by emotional response” never sat well for me, and felt lacking as a descriptor. Mostly because people think that emotion should be fear or fright, but at the same time the word horror doesn’t automatically mean fear, does it? Something can be horrible, and yet not scary. Add to the fact that some of the best horror digs in under the skin and does something else, something far more disturbing than simple fear.