“Imagine if all of the “cool kids” from the original Weird Tales — H.P. Lovecraft, Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, etc. — has been writing continuously from that day until this; what would they be producing?” asks the blurb on their website. The answer is in Issue #1, available both in beautiful hardcopy as well as in various electronic formats.
The stunning cover by artist Dan Verkys, suggests some manner of shark/human hybrid, a suitable image from an imaginary tale that might easily have made the pages of the magazine. It is followed by an introduction from the editor musing about magazines and anthologies and a dozen chilling tales reminiscent of the best of the pulps.
“Hazards,” by Justin Pollock, is a straight forward account of paranormal events, both riveting and colorful, told by the traumatized Good Samaritan who stopped to aid a fellow motorist parked on the side of the road in the dead of night.
“Darnell Behind Glass,” by Jeff Crook is the sad story of a lonely man who has sacrificed literally everything to own a run down highway convenience store, and how he goes about discovering just exactly how much is everything.
“The Mine,” by Jason V. Shayer, is told from the point of view of a mischievous adolescent who returns to the abandoned mine where his father disappeared. His rakish plans soon go far astray when he accidentally discovers just what those odd smelling vapors that forced the place out of business are all about.
“Ricky and the Elder Gods,” by S. M. Williams is a fast paced adventure told counterpoint, about a homicidal fool who has brazenly summoned two monstrous humanoids expecting to gain all manner of power and wealth for indulging their bloodthirsty whims and an odd young woman with singular talents, a refugee from a cult dedicated to exterminating the brutes.
“Gingerbread and Ashes,” by Jaelithe Ingold is the bittersweet tale of what became of the fairytale children, as told by an arthritic Hansel searching for a lost Gretel fifty years after their misadventures with the wicked witch—my, how one’s perspective changes with age.
“Dear Management,” by Tom Wortman, is a series of mostly terse memos from a recent college graduate to his home office chronicling his escalating efforts to rid his office of the overwhelming reek emanating from the seemingly pristine ductwork. His initial gratitude and enthusiasm wane noticeably during his absorbing ordeal.
“In the Place Where the Tree Falleth,” by Michael Lutz, follows a slightly disingenuous door-to-door salesman peddling an easily understandable version of the Holy Bible—admittedly devoid of the poetry of the King James version—as he encounters a family of devout backwoodsmen living in a crumbling mansion atop a wooded knoll. These are devoted to their own back-to-nature religion, the exact nature of which is left to the imagination of the reader. All of them have the salesman’s number from the get-go, leaving the terrified peddler’s wondering what use they might actually have for him.
“Laundry Night,” by Stephen Hill: it’s Tuesday, laundry night, and poor Rita must contend with a colicky baby, a beer swilling unhelpful husband, a claustrophobic condo, a stinky laundry room, a strange old grouchy neighbor and a pimple faced useless security guard as she accidentally solves the gruesome riddle of what happens to those missing socks in the dryer.
“Hello Operator,” by Donny Waagen, is quite simply, a nightmare. A nameless man, trudging home through a dubious neighborhood, broke, his cell phone dead, stumbles upon a pristine phone booth, seemingly a godsend, or is it?
“Courting the Queen of Sheba,” by Amanda C. Davis, recounts the tale of a 19th century American traveling circus, and the unexpected side show attraction they come by, a female mummy, named the Queen of Sheba by her late owner. Poor girl, three millennia later, she’s still hungry….
“A Requiem for Tarsenesia,” by William Knight takes place in an alternate reality, in which a feudal society maintains itself by placating monstrous beasts with cacophonous symphonies until a seven year old girl is caught in a tug of war between her father, a master lute maker and the head of the theocratic oligarchy.
“The Hole,” by Bob Errera, is a brief tale about a sentient hole in the earth with an unearthly allure.
So what’s not to like about that?