After a small coastal town is devastated by a hurricane, the survivors gravitate toward a long out-of-service payphone in hopes of talking out their grief and saying goodbye to loved ones, only for it to begin ringing on its own. As more townspeople answer the call, friends and family believed to have been lost to the storm begin searching for a way back home.
I figured out this year that grief horror is my favorite subgenre. I don't know what that says about me, but...this one totally scratched that itch. This is too short to really develop super hardcore feelings towards the main character, but what one is willing to do to make sense of a tragic death is so relatable. It's ironic that denial is one of the stages of grief, yet we are all slowly creeping in that direction.
Do you remember that catchy 1980’s AT&T TV commercial?
What if you could use an abandoned phone booth to speak to your loved ones who have passed on? Clay Mceod Chapman’s short story “Stay on the Line” imagines this creepy scenario.
Hurricane Aubrey has just taken 20 lives from the small town of Brandywine. Jenny can’t believe the storm killed her husband, but left the old phone booth in one piece. The town is filled with grief over the loss of their loved ones, but their hope has brought forth a miracle! The phone booth now connects the townspeople with those they have lost. But at what cost? Who is really on the other end of the line? What do they want?
I really enjoy McCleod Chapman’s horror novels, so I found an intriguing short story on Hoopla. I love everything about this! The nostalgia is on point and he nails the palpable grief. The brief horror at the end really captured my attention. But, the best thing about this story is its relatability. It will give you all the feels!
"I hear the ocean wherever I go now, even when I’m not on the phone. It’s this slight hiss of static always at the back of my head. A white noise machine. Crashing waves in my skull."
If you could walk into a disconnected phone booth and talk to a lost loved one, would you?
Chapman knows how to scare you in the best ways possible. He takes something we never think of as scary and he turns it into something that'll haunt your dreams and even every waking moment.
A telephone that allows you to communicate with the ones you miss the most, the ones who are no longer on this plane of existence. Stay on the Line by Clay McLeod Chapman is a haunting novelette showcasing the poignancy of grief horror. A small town is hit by a major hurricane that claims the lives of many, leaving a catastrophic wake of damage both physically and emotionally. Yet, one abandoned phone booth remains standing, one that allows you to speak to the dead. However, the price for these calls is hefty resulting in a rather chilling tale.
Clay McLeod Chapman seems to be the master of grief horror with books such as What Kind of Mother and Ghost Eaters focusing on how we are left to process and handle great loss. Stay on the Line feels part of the same animal, just in a much more compact format. Chapman uses immersive writing to breathe life into these complex feelings of hurt, longing, and finding the strength to move on. Trevor Henderson’s illustrations are downright terrifying, enhancing these bleak circumstances within this narrative. Hurricane Aubrey is personified as an angry woman, pounding on the doors of buildings to steal people away. If you’ve ever sat through such a storm, you know how terrifying such a thing is.
On top of this innate sadness and terror that comes with devastation, Chapman writes more than meets the eye. For instance, the key phrase uttered by those unseen voices on the other side of the phone is “stay on the line.” The dead’s demands for attention have a dual meaning given this town thrives along the water, their livelihood dependent upon things such as fishing and trolling. Much like a fish, the townsfolk are on the proverbial hook when they make a call to their deceased loved ones which demonstrates how sharp this grief truly is. And how steep the price.
"After a small coastal town is devastated by a hurricane, the survivors gravitate toward a long out-of-service payphone in hopes of talking out their grief and saying goodbye to loved ones, only for it to begin ringing on its own."
A heart-wrenching look into grief horror. This chilling novelette delivers a haunting emotional punch in a single sitting. The eerie illustrations perfectly complement the story's spooky atmosphere. While I craved more, the story leaves a lasting impact. I'm looking forward to reading more from this author!
The evergreen horror theme of “Sometimes dead is better” gets an alternately moving and chilling workout in Stay on the Line, a novelette from Clay McLeod Chapman (What Kind of Mother) in collaboration with popular horror artist Trevor Henderson, who created the viral cryptid Siren Head. In a very short space, Chapman effectively marries nautical horror and grief horror to an evocation of nostalgic small town Americana a la King.
Our setting is Brandywine, a coastal fishing town in Maine, and our narrator is Jenny, who tends bar at the kind of place frequented strictly by the locals and whichever just-passing-through fishermen can find work in the area. One of those latter is Callum, who meets and romances Jenny in a way John Mellencamp might once have sung about, though Callum, quite refined for a scruffy old fisher, prefers classic Van Morrison. Jenny fondly remembers his untrimmed beard, and their first makeout session inside a disused phone booth in the bar’s parking lot. We’ll get back to that phone booth in a moment.
One day, Hurricane Aubrey comes to Brandywine. Now I lived in Houston for my teenage years. And while that’s not a fishing village by a long shot, it’s close enough to the Gulf that I can personally attest to the ways in which people who live under the routine threat of hurricanes can still find themselves woefully lax and unprepared. I can easily see how some residents of New Orleans might have thought Katrina was going to be business as usual until the levees broke. Nature has a way of showing humans she really has no fucks to give.
So it is that the seasoned locals in Brandywine don’t do much beyond the usual boarding up of windows before Aubrey slams into them with historic savagery, demolishing piers and marinas and taking twenty lives. One of these is Callum, who by this time has a a daughter, Shelby, with Jenny, and who simply thought to check on his boat as the storm came in, saying he’d be right back. But he was blown away, along with so much else in the town. Except that ancient phone booth. It still stands, like a mockery.
Then something strange happens. Jenny notices people stepping into the booth and talking into the receiver, which hasn’t worked in decades. Maybe they’re going nuts? Or have they just found a way to cope? But why would so many people be coping in such a specific way? Jenny decides to check it out for herself, picking up the receiver and uttering a cautious hello. Callum answers.
Or… does he? Here is where I will leave you, reader. Chapman has delivered a fireside tale with an eerie vibe that matches its desolate and windswept setting. And while its resolution might be inevitable, well, like most sea voyages, it’s about the journey more than the destination. The end will eventually reach out to all of us, and it’s always a collect call.
I am a big Chapman fan, and this novelette didn’t disappoint! I love the idea of a haunted phone booth where people can talk to their dead loved ones, only to find out things may not be as they seem. I don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll keep this review short. I’d love to see this expanded upon someday as there could be a great novel with a cast of characters explored in depth
Succinct little grief horror novella that hits the spot.
“Your whiskers were too long and they slipped in my mouth, tickling my lips like sea anemones fanning back and forth across the coral alcove of your tongue.”
In an upcoming anthology, Clay McLeod Chapman manages to take a simple cardboard box and turns it into a nightmare. With Stay On The Line, he does the same to a defunct phone booth.
A coastal town ravaged by a hurricane brings death and destruction, including the husband of our main character. But an old, disused phone booth allows people to talk to dead loved ones, and word quickly spreads. Not everything is at it seems though as people start behaving strangely.
What starts as a fairly heart wrenching story and perhaps a fantastical tale of the supernatural soon turns to something malicious and deeply terrifying.
Okay, so this was a quick read. A great read in fact, but I did swither to give this a four or five stars. The last ten percent wasn't my cup of tea at all, you see. I really dislike stories that go in a certain direction. I'm not gonna give the game away here. That being said, it did not outstay it's welcome, so I was fine with it. Clay is such a great writer, though. Truly. Kill Your Darling was terrific. I will continue to read his work because there is something about it I feel a genuine connection with. He is top notch. And for the record, most horror fans will love the direction he took. I genuinely believe that.
A short novella that beautifully explores grief and loss and the inability to let go. It's written in prose that feels sort of poetic. A small coastal town is devastated by a hurricane, losing members of their tight-knit community. But the payphone that has been out of use for a long time now, still stands. Townsfolk discover that when you pick up the receiver, you can speak to your lost loved one. What seems like a gift, quickly turns sour. It's poetic, creepy and emotional all at the same time! With incredible illustrations by Trevor Henderson sprinkled throughout. A haunting tale that stays with you.
What would you do if there was a phone booth that allowed you to speak to the dead? Would you pick up the phone for a chance to speak to a loved one just one more time?
Wow, I loved the premise of this novelette!
In just a few pages, I was invested in the main character. I was intrigued by the premise. The illustrations were great. They added even more creepiness to the story.
This is one I'd recommend for everyone. The perfect bite-sized horror. It deals with grief, so keep that in mind if you decide to read this.
After a small coastal town is devastated by a hurricane, the survivors gravitate toward a long out-of-service payphone in hopes of talking out their grief and saying goodbye to loved ones, only for it to begin ringing on its own.
STAY ON THE LINE by Clay McLeod Chapman is nothing short of beautiful.
This novelette comes in at 80 pages and packs quite the punch in such a short amount of time and space. I tend to really feel a pull towards horror that deals with grief and that is such a major theme in this one (& done so well and in such a thought-provoking manner)! ALSO, THE PAYPHONE!! Such an iconic element on its own.
I feel like I can’t say much more without throwing the entire story out there, but I highly recommend picking this one up!
✨reach out and touch someone ✨
Huge thanks to Shortwave Media for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
In 49 pages, Clay McLeod Chapman brings grief to life in the most imaginative way. A dead pay phone , that is connected loved ones lost. Holding on to hope, as unrealistic as it is, actually becomes horrifying. Is it really who you think it is on the other line? I enjoyed this novella, and the illustrations inside. As usual, Clay McLeod Chapman packs a lot into a little space and makes you feel all the feels.
Clay never disappoints when it comes to grief horror, and this little novelette packed a punch! An abandoned phone booth becomes a place to speak to lost loved ones, but is something sinister at play? Such huge feelings in this story, and Clay is a master at pulling us in and throwing us for a loop! This novelette is beautiful, creepy and includes incredible illustrations by Trevor Henderson, upping the creep factor by 1,000!!! Preorder this, you won’t be sorry! Thank you so so much to shortwave books for the early copy!!
Stay on the line is a very short little novella with lasting impact. Imagine after a hurricane devastating a town, the survivors of said town can talk to deceased loved ones through a payphone no longer in service, the dead demanding you stay on the line. This was very grief heavy and devastating, and very good for how short it was.
I have seen the devastation done by hurricanes and the grief and loss it can cause firsthand. I think they portrayed this perfectly, even had me wanting to tear up at some points. Great imagery and a haunting premise.
What a delightfully creepy short-story! I thought this was going to be a collection of short musing from different characters, but having it focus on one MC and her poly of view was the way to go. It added depth to the story and the author really captures the grief of the MC over her lost husband very well. The concept was really cool, the execution was great, and the added illustrations were also super creepy. A really fun read!
This has ruined the allure of the wind phone for me. There is one problem and that's in the description where it says the phone rings on its own. That's not in the story or I must have missed it.
“A sanctuary.” 📚 After a hurricane devastates a small seaside town, broken-hearted survivors struggle to pick up the pieces. Among them is Jenny, left behind with her young daughter, Shelby, when her husband, Callum, is lost in the storm. She, along with other grieving residents, soon finds comfort and purpose in the most unexpected of places: an old phone booth, a long-disconnected relic that becomes a beacon of hope. But does this artifact actually enable people to speak with the departed, or is something sinister afoot?
Fueled by tender nostalgia and haunting sorrow, Stay on the Line is a phenomenal supernatural horror tale rooted in the universal experience of grief. The second-person (“you”) point of view is effective and moving, as are the eerie black-and-white illustrations scattered throughout, which evoke visceral feelings that heighten as the reader contemplates the story’s premise. The idea of being able to talk to a deceased loved one again — the very thought of hearing their voice, of having another chance — is absolutely gutting and almost too difficult to bear.
The gradual turn the narrative takes is masterful, descending into disturbing, obsessive, and outright terrifying territory studded with nightmarish, shudder-inducing horrors. It’s a chronicle of love and loss, fantasy and reality, devastation and desperation, holding on and letting go, and, ultimately, life and mortality: the bane of the human condition, the ever-present, unavoidable guarantee that both connects and divides — that which one can never really be ready for, and which no amount of “one-more-times” will ever quench or satisfy.
Thank you to Shortwave Publishing for providing a free digital ARC of this outstanding forthcoming novelette, which releases on July 30th. The feeling packed into 47 pages is staggering, and makes this reader eager for more Clay McLeod Chapman!
Clay has this amazing ability to write grief and horror together that tears your heart out while chilling you to the bone.
This novelette packs a punch, and I would love to read more of this story.
After a hurricane comes through a small coastal town and takes away both human lives and the towns livelihood, a disconnected phonebooth remains to connect them to what they lost.
I dont can't say more than that, but I can tell you to pick this up when it comes out.
Thanks to Clay McLeod Chapman for giving me an advance copy and my friend Eli for bringing it back from Stoker Con. 📞
How long have you been feeding off our grief? Feeding off me?
My second Clay McLeod Chapman read, this horror novelette is a predictable, dark exploration of communal grief that just really didn't do anything for me at all. The premise has promise, but Chapman never manages to make it work in an effectively horrific manner. Instead we're given a meandering piece that's not nearly shocking or scary enough, and is never as emotionally cathartic as it should be.
As someone who grew up in the era of landlines and phone booths, I must say I really enjoyed this one.
I vaguely remember an episode of Supernatual that was kind of like this. The dead calling their loved ones from landlines only to find out it wasn’t actually their loved ones but something far more sinister. Creepy.
Losing someone is tough. I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t pick up the phone if someone I’ve lost was on the other end. I would definitely be suspicious though! Especially after reading this!