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Vastarien #10
Vastarien: Vol. 4, Issue 2
Vastarien: A Literary Journal is a source of critical study and creative response to the corpus of Thomas Ligotti as well as associated authors and ideas. The journal includes nonfiction, literary horror fiction, poetry, artwork and non-classifiable hybrid pieces. Another double issue!
- GenresHorror
312 pages, Paperback
Published December 2, 2021
4 people are currently reading
30 people want to read
About the author
Jon Padgett
50 books530 followersJon Padgett is a professional–though lapsed–ventriloquist who lives in New Orleans. He is the Editor-In-Chief of Grimscribe Press, which publishes
Vastarien: A Literary Journal
, a source of critical study and creative response to the work of Thomas Ligotti. Padgett’s first short story collection, The Secret of Ventriloquism, was named the Best Fiction Book of the Year by Rue Morgue Magazine.
Padgett’s voice has also become synonymous with the works of Thomas Ligotti. Padgett has lent his voice to numerous Thomas Ligotti works, including the recently released Penguin Random House audio version of Songs of a Dead Dreamer and Grimscribe and various Cadabra Record releases, “The Bungalow House,” “The Red Tower,” “The Small People,” “Gas Station Carnivals,” “The Clown Puppet,” “Pictures of Apocalypse,” and “Mrs. Rinaldi’s Angel.” In addition to his work as a Ligotti narrator, Padgett has also narrated two Cadabra Records releases of his own work, “20 Simple Steps to Ventriloquism” and “Origami Dreams.” With his ability to channel Ligotti’s prose and poetry via the spoken word, Padgett is a singular figure in the world of weird storytelling.
Padgett’s voice has also become synonymous with the works of Thomas Ligotti. Padgett has lent his voice to numerous Thomas Ligotti works, including the recently released Penguin Random House audio version of Songs of a Dead Dreamer and Grimscribe and various Cadabra Record releases, “The Bungalow House,” “The Red Tower,” “The Small People,” “Gas Station Carnivals,” “The Clown Puppet,” “Pictures of Apocalypse,” and “Mrs. Rinaldi’s Angel.” In addition to his work as a Ligotti narrator, Padgett has also narrated two Cadabra Records releases of his own work, “20 Simple Steps to Ventriloquism” and “Origami Dreams.” With his ability to channel Ligotti’s prose and poetry via the spoken word, Padgett is a singular figure in the world of weird storytelling.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
February 15, 2024
A Keeper: Vastarien 4.2 review
The fall 2021 issue, #10 in the series, of Vastarien: A Literary Journal, sets the bar high for future issues, in my, admittedly biased, opinion. There are 31 written entries: short fictions, poetry, essays and a pair of hybrids; as well as 4 stunning artworks, counting Anna Trueman’s bleak cover, which hints subtly at dark things unseen lurking deep beneath the surface ready to emerge while we sleep.
Carl Lavoie’s startling painting of a nineteenth century man clinging to the disintegrating body/memory of his lost love, or perhaps rotting death itself, follows suit. A frontispiece, confirming the tone set by the cover.
Romana Lockwood’s recent regular column, “Tenebrous Ramblings,” starts the literary ball rolling. It tells the brief creepy tale of a nineteenth century immigrant’s discovery and mastery of the dark dual-natured heart of his adopted homeland. A relative of the author, if it is to be believed.
The first of two stunning phobic photo/artwork self-portraits by Kristin Fouquet, titled “Spectrophobia,” is next. It depicts a woman in profile before a mirror. Within the mirror she appears in two overlapping images: one in profile and the other staring back dubiously at the one whose reflection she might be…
“The Unpleasant State of Being,” by Hailey Piper, skillfully postulates, through fiction, that at least some of us are either doppelgangers—or perhaps, better put, a portion of an assemblage, or gestalt, of evolving doppelgangers. But to what end exactly…?
Michael Uhall’s captivating telling, “Matsuri,” is a surreal tale about an American man who has resignedly accepted his odd medical death sentence only to discover how much worse things can get after encountering an eerie “candy artist” on a sidewalk in Japan.
Carlos Casteneda meets Thomas Ligotti in a separate reality, might best describe Carson Winter’s unsettling “The Mushroom Men.” Through the metaphor of fungi—psylocibin and morel—hallucination becomes a means to forge a new reality when two friends attempt to aid a grieving fellow mushroom hunter.
The oddly redacted “Heartstrings,” by Philippa Evans, may well lie beyond my capacity to comprehend. An experiment involving individuals who are both left & right brained: quantitative analysis versus qualitative experience of language. All life is perception; all perception is hallucination? Hallucination another truth altogether, if only briefly? Elusive truth, a lie? The lie must be grasped by the end in order to arrive successfully at the onset? Personal observation transitioning to official dictum? All is dream? Egad.
The surreal poem, “Sculpting,” by Mari Ness, explores the quality of the way we constantly recreate one another.
Christi Nogel’s “She Ain’t Stopping,” is another psychedelic prose venture. An outsider marries, on impulse, into a dull-witted back-woods clan—his wedding night beyond bizarre. The downside of male objectification of women; an updated version of Paul Webb’s Esquire Magazine’s long running cartoons of hillbilly bearded dodos and their fetching fems from the 1950’s & 60’s.
In depression era 1930’s academia, mathematician Gerald Pendergast is set to create a revolutionary physical proof of an overtly abstract theory involving imaginary elements in Gwen C. Katz’ “Fold.” Gerald’s utter lack of people skills is unfortunately augmented by his status as chairman of the university’s physics department, facilitating his constant bulling of his two research assistants and his wife, who do all the heavy lifting required while he jealously guards and wallows in the outré fruits of their combined labors.
The issue’s second poem, the evocative “Night Mare,” by Stephanie M. Wytovich, may well be inspired by the painting(s) of similar name.
A pair of superficially unconnected intertwining story lines embracing the concept of one life for another lie at the heart of Greg Sisco’s “On Borrowed Time.” A panicked adolescent on an operating room table in one setting is juxtaposed with an incredulous loan shark endeavoring to collect a debt, leaving the reader to ponder what the exact relationship is between the two until the end.
An utterly mismatched couple’s dramatically failing relationship spirals slowly but surely downward when he exchanges personal interaction for clinical fascination. He watches her via closed circuit hidden cameras as she flounders in ever worsening depression, escapism and self-destruction in Tori Fredrick’s chilling “Voyeur.”
Clearly everything will be anything but okay in John Claude Smith’s “Everything will be Okay.” Another mismatched couple are innocuously watching a film on TV together when one of them drifts off into sleep…dream…hallucination…obsession…insanity…? Gruesome.
The first of the non-fiction pieces, an essay titled “The Bloody Story of his Canvas: A Reading of ‘The Lost Art of Twilight’” by George Prekas, is a detailed analysis of an atypical tale written by Thomas Ligotti—atypical in that the narrator is a vampire, kinda/sorta.
“How to Send the Dead (Assuming You’ve Cremated Them Against Their Dying Wish)” by Juleigh Howard-Hobson is a poem, a spell from a grimoire, as it were, to banish one who has gone before. A bit like staking a spiritual vampire when there’s no physical vampire to stake.
The passive-aggressive protagonist in “Sometimes It’s Just Like Hiding,” by Georgia Cook, sees his life reduced to failure, pretense and shadows. Overwhelmed by his wife’s over achieving, he is left with childish knee-jerk emotional responses he does his utmost to hide, much like the ill-fitting mask he wears to a costume party.
The second non-fiction piece, “Down the Dark Hallway: An Essay on P.T.,” by Sean M. Thompson, is a history and review of a video game, P.T., co-created by game maker Hideo Kojima and film maker Guillermo Del Toro.
Appearing to stay the course, Joanna Parypinski’s “A Walkthrough of Route X: Video Games and the Postmodern Gothic” purports to be an account of a YouTube phenomenon, an unreleased four-hour video/horror game with overt Ligottian sensibilities that has been watched over 1.3 million times. Not to give anything away, but I’m reasonably certain it is a work of fiction. Hybrid?
Rhonda Eikamp tells a mesmerizing tale of a woman psychiatrist’s efforts to keep from going irrevocably bonkers under the relentless disapproval of her 1950’s male colleagues and her overly smug suburban neighbors in “Thy Structures Rear’d in Blood.” The story is propelled by the dual mysteries of her recently vanished husband and The Noah, a deranged WWII vet obsessed with building his “ark” while living with his brother on the farm down the street. Leave it to Beaver this ain’t.
“Vulture Eyes,” by Christa Carmen, is an intense tale of postpartum psychosis. Iris, at once overjoyed by the presence of her new baby daughter and the company of her loyal Weimaraner, is at the same time haunted by the specters of another baby, another dog, both of whom she obsessively believes herself to have severely wronged. She struggles to keep her life from unraveling completely as her guilt gradually usurps her reason…
S. L. Edwards essay, “Revenge and Envy Are Very Small Things: Cosmic Inconsequentialism in S. P. Miskowski’s Skillute Cycle,” examines the absence of all moral considerations in that author’s aforementioned work, comparing it to the oft expressed meaninglessness that has been associated with the work of Thomas Ligotti.
In the Mirrorlands, a dark realm between dream and death, there lurks the dastardly Lord Greystone and his kith and kin. “The Accursed Manor of the Mirrorlands,” by LC von Hessen guides the reader through this unsavory place via a second person narrative. Mortals beware.
Strange songbirds behave like aggressive raptors on grossly tainted steroids in Sara Tantlinger’s visceral poem, “Anthropophagus.”
Birds, once again, launch the short fiction “The Collected Poems of James Zjarek, Transgressor” by Perry Ruhland. One of a pair of dissolute drinking partners—an obstinate boor—shares his blasphemous poetry with the other—a jealous professional poet—to no good end. One good curse deserves another.
My tale, “The Shining Path,” chronicles the spiritual journey of a retired couple. As they travel across the world on their improbable quest, the husband is felled by a virus. He remains behind while his wife moves on. She sends him postcards containing cryptic progress reports to the dilapidated hospital where he lies in a coma and he awakens ever so briefly to read them.
Lexie, is haunted by a recurring dream in “Lullaby,” by Jenny Darmody. These relatively innocuous nightmares prove to be much more than mere dreams, and are endemic. The prescribed solution: don’t sleep… A metaphor for chronic fatigue syndrome, perhaps.
Mari Ness’ poem, “Lonely Wordless Ghosts,” mulls the agony of the need to, as well as the process of, writing poetry—or perhaps just this particular poem.
“Red Knots Tightening,” by Emer O’Hanlon, skillfully elaborates upon one woman’s struggles to maintain her fraying sanity via her sexual (as opposed to love making) relationship with her significant other, and the overwhelmingly influential nature of her menstrual cycle, in a tale addressed to her lover.
Kristin Fouquet’s second phobic self-portrait, “Nelophobia,” is a tripartite head, looking forward, left and right, reminiscent of Brahma, hovering above a cut crystal goblet, held in two hands as if a ritual offering.
The essay, “The Three Paradigms of Horror,” by Dejan Ognjanović, discusses at some length the three fears that the author postulates define the horror genre: the fear of self, the fear of others, and the fear of what he calls the Numinous—the fear of the great unknown.
“The Gyrification of Violence,” by Clint Smith, may well fall under the category of hybrid as it is not readily apparent if it is fiction or non-fiction. The author/protagonist elaborates upon the difficulties of knowing oneself through recollections of past relationships with an admired high school teacher and a fistfight with the class bully at the time.
The narrator’s mental struggle for control over the interpretation of reality comprise “The Food Fellow,” by Ivy Grimes. A possibly severely schizophrenic supermarket produce manager hoards produce, protecting it from shoppers—or does he?
The issue wraps with Kurt Fawver’s “This Story Will Kill You.” Poor Julia stumbles upon the carnage that was her best friend, finds herself in the grip of a nasty disembodied voice, and it’s all downhill from there. But who’s to blame?
Jon Padgett has gone to great lengths to not only acquire and display mostly exceptional work, but also to weave a tapestry in which one piece occasionally segues almost seamlessly into the next, while many echo specific aspects of others. Editorial abstract painting with words and pictures.
The fall 2021 issue, #10 in the series, of Vastarien: A Literary Journal, sets the bar high for future issues, in my, admittedly biased, opinion. There are 31 written entries: short fictions, poetry, essays and a pair of hybrids; as well as 4 stunning artworks, counting Anna Trueman’s bleak cover, which hints subtly at dark things unseen lurking deep beneath the surface ready to emerge while we sleep.
Carl Lavoie’s startling painting of a nineteenth century man clinging to the disintegrating body/memory of his lost love, or perhaps rotting death itself, follows suit. A frontispiece, confirming the tone set by the cover.
Romana Lockwood’s recent regular column, “Tenebrous Ramblings,” starts the literary ball rolling. It tells the brief creepy tale of a nineteenth century immigrant’s discovery and mastery of the dark dual-natured heart of his adopted homeland. A relative of the author, if it is to be believed.
The first of two stunning phobic photo/artwork self-portraits by Kristin Fouquet, titled “Spectrophobia,” is next. It depicts a woman in profile before a mirror. Within the mirror she appears in two overlapping images: one in profile and the other staring back dubiously at the one whose reflection she might be…
“The Unpleasant State of Being,” by Hailey Piper, skillfully postulates, through fiction, that at least some of us are either doppelgangers—or perhaps, better put, a portion of an assemblage, or gestalt, of evolving doppelgangers. But to what end exactly…?
Michael Uhall’s captivating telling, “Matsuri,” is a surreal tale about an American man who has resignedly accepted his odd medical death sentence only to discover how much worse things can get after encountering an eerie “candy artist” on a sidewalk in Japan.
Carlos Casteneda meets Thomas Ligotti in a separate reality, might best describe Carson Winter’s unsettling “The Mushroom Men.” Through the metaphor of fungi—psylocibin and morel—hallucination becomes a means to forge a new reality when two friends attempt to aid a grieving fellow mushroom hunter.
The oddly redacted “Heartstrings,” by Philippa Evans, may well lie beyond my capacity to comprehend. An experiment involving individuals who are both left & right brained: quantitative analysis versus qualitative experience of language. All life is perception; all perception is hallucination? Hallucination another truth altogether, if only briefly? Elusive truth, a lie? The lie must be grasped by the end in order to arrive successfully at the onset? Personal observation transitioning to official dictum? All is dream? Egad.
The surreal poem, “Sculpting,” by Mari Ness, explores the quality of the way we constantly recreate one another.
Christi Nogel’s “She Ain’t Stopping,” is another psychedelic prose venture. An outsider marries, on impulse, into a dull-witted back-woods clan—his wedding night beyond bizarre. The downside of male objectification of women; an updated version of Paul Webb’s Esquire Magazine’s long running cartoons of hillbilly bearded dodos and their fetching fems from the 1950’s & 60’s.
In depression era 1930’s academia, mathematician Gerald Pendergast is set to create a revolutionary physical proof of an overtly abstract theory involving imaginary elements in Gwen C. Katz’ “Fold.” Gerald’s utter lack of people skills is unfortunately augmented by his status as chairman of the university’s physics department, facilitating his constant bulling of his two research assistants and his wife, who do all the heavy lifting required while he jealously guards and wallows in the outré fruits of their combined labors.
The issue’s second poem, the evocative “Night Mare,” by Stephanie M. Wytovich, may well be inspired by the painting(s) of similar name.
A pair of superficially unconnected intertwining story lines embracing the concept of one life for another lie at the heart of Greg Sisco’s “On Borrowed Time.” A panicked adolescent on an operating room table in one setting is juxtaposed with an incredulous loan shark endeavoring to collect a debt, leaving the reader to ponder what the exact relationship is between the two until the end.
An utterly mismatched couple’s dramatically failing relationship spirals slowly but surely downward when he exchanges personal interaction for clinical fascination. He watches her via closed circuit hidden cameras as she flounders in ever worsening depression, escapism and self-destruction in Tori Fredrick’s chilling “Voyeur.”
Clearly everything will be anything but okay in John Claude Smith’s “Everything will be Okay.” Another mismatched couple are innocuously watching a film on TV together when one of them drifts off into sleep…dream…hallucination…obsession…insanity…? Gruesome.
The first of the non-fiction pieces, an essay titled “The Bloody Story of his Canvas: A Reading of ‘The Lost Art of Twilight’” by George Prekas, is a detailed analysis of an atypical tale written by Thomas Ligotti—atypical in that the narrator is a vampire, kinda/sorta.
“How to Send the Dead (Assuming You’ve Cremated Them Against Their Dying Wish)” by Juleigh Howard-Hobson is a poem, a spell from a grimoire, as it were, to banish one who has gone before. A bit like staking a spiritual vampire when there’s no physical vampire to stake.
The passive-aggressive protagonist in “Sometimes It’s Just Like Hiding,” by Georgia Cook, sees his life reduced to failure, pretense and shadows. Overwhelmed by his wife’s over achieving, he is left with childish knee-jerk emotional responses he does his utmost to hide, much like the ill-fitting mask he wears to a costume party.
The second non-fiction piece, “Down the Dark Hallway: An Essay on P.T.,” by Sean M. Thompson, is a history and review of a video game, P.T., co-created by game maker Hideo Kojima and film maker Guillermo Del Toro.
Appearing to stay the course, Joanna Parypinski’s “A Walkthrough of Route X: Video Games and the Postmodern Gothic” purports to be an account of a YouTube phenomenon, an unreleased four-hour video/horror game with overt Ligottian sensibilities that has been watched over 1.3 million times. Not to give anything away, but I’m reasonably certain it is a work of fiction. Hybrid?
Rhonda Eikamp tells a mesmerizing tale of a woman psychiatrist’s efforts to keep from going irrevocably bonkers under the relentless disapproval of her 1950’s male colleagues and her overly smug suburban neighbors in “Thy Structures Rear’d in Blood.” The story is propelled by the dual mysteries of her recently vanished husband and The Noah, a deranged WWII vet obsessed with building his “ark” while living with his brother on the farm down the street. Leave it to Beaver this ain’t.
“Vulture Eyes,” by Christa Carmen, is an intense tale of postpartum psychosis. Iris, at once overjoyed by the presence of her new baby daughter and the company of her loyal Weimaraner, is at the same time haunted by the specters of another baby, another dog, both of whom she obsessively believes herself to have severely wronged. She struggles to keep her life from unraveling completely as her guilt gradually usurps her reason…
S. L. Edwards essay, “Revenge and Envy Are Very Small Things: Cosmic Inconsequentialism in S. P. Miskowski’s Skillute Cycle,” examines the absence of all moral considerations in that author’s aforementioned work, comparing it to the oft expressed meaninglessness that has been associated with the work of Thomas Ligotti.
In the Mirrorlands, a dark realm between dream and death, there lurks the dastardly Lord Greystone and his kith and kin. “The Accursed Manor of the Mirrorlands,” by LC von Hessen guides the reader through this unsavory place via a second person narrative. Mortals beware.
Strange songbirds behave like aggressive raptors on grossly tainted steroids in Sara Tantlinger’s visceral poem, “Anthropophagus.”
Birds, once again, launch the short fiction “The Collected Poems of James Zjarek, Transgressor” by Perry Ruhland. One of a pair of dissolute drinking partners—an obstinate boor—shares his blasphemous poetry with the other—a jealous professional poet—to no good end. One good curse deserves another.
My tale, “The Shining Path,” chronicles the spiritual journey of a retired couple. As they travel across the world on their improbable quest, the husband is felled by a virus. He remains behind while his wife moves on. She sends him postcards containing cryptic progress reports to the dilapidated hospital where he lies in a coma and he awakens ever so briefly to read them.
Lexie, is haunted by a recurring dream in “Lullaby,” by Jenny Darmody. These relatively innocuous nightmares prove to be much more than mere dreams, and are endemic. The prescribed solution: don’t sleep… A metaphor for chronic fatigue syndrome, perhaps.
Mari Ness’ poem, “Lonely Wordless Ghosts,” mulls the agony of the need to, as well as the process of, writing poetry—or perhaps just this particular poem.
“Red Knots Tightening,” by Emer O’Hanlon, skillfully elaborates upon one woman’s struggles to maintain her fraying sanity via her sexual (as opposed to love making) relationship with her significant other, and the overwhelmingly influential nature of her menstrual cycle, in a tale addressed to her lover.
Kristin Fouquet’s second phobic self-portrait, “Nelophobia,” is a tripartite head, looking forward, left and right, reminiscent of Brahma, hovering above a cut crystal goblet, held in two hands as if a ritual offering.
The essay, “The Three Paradigms of Horror,” by Dejan Ognjanović, discusses at some length the three fears that the author postulates define the horror genre: the fear of self, the fear of others, and the fear of what he calls the Numinous—the fear of the great unknown.
“The Gyrification of Violence,” by Clint Smith, may well fall under the category of hybrid as it is not readily apparent if it is fiction or non-fiction. The author/protagonist elaborates upon the difficulties of knowing oneself through recollections of past relationships with an admired high school teacher and a fistfight with the class bully at the time.
The narrator’s mental struggle for control over the interpretation of reality comprise “The Food Fellow,” by Ivy Grimes. A possibly severely schizophrenic supermarket produce manager hoards produce, protecting it from shoppers—or does he?
The issue wraps with Kurt Fawver’s “This Story Will Kill You.” Poor Julia stumbles upon the carnage that was her best friend, finds herself in the grip of a nasty disembodied voice, and it’s all downhill from there. But who’s to blame?
Jon Padgett has gone to great lengths to not only acquire and display mostly exceptional work, but also to weave a tapestry in which one piece occasionally segues almost seamlessly into the next, while many echo specific aspects of others. Editorial abstract painting with words and pictures.
January 4, 2022
These just get better and better with each issue. If you are into weird horror and essays on Ligotti or weird in general, just get this.
January 8, 2022
Fantastic. Every single page and word. An amazing collection worthy of rereads. These journals are an instant order for me and never disappoint!
January 16, 2022
Lots of great stuff in here. This is one of the better weird fiction magazines I've come across.
January 13, 2022
This is my first time reading Vastarien and I absolutely loved it. I will certainly be subscribing so that I get every issue upon release. The wide range of stories, essays, and poems in this issue were amazing.
I am not a poem fan, and while I did read all the ones included here, I'll be reserving any thoughts/comments on them, as it is not fair. I also skipped two analysis essays that were written about pieces of literature I've not yet read.
There are a whole bunch of stories/essays in this volume, so I'll only be calling out stories that especially stood out to me. Nearly all stories were 4 or 5 stars, though.
My favorites, in order of appearance:
- Voyeur by Tori Fredrick: incredibly uncomfortable and upsetting. I was enthralled and couldn't pull my eyes away from the page.
- A Walkthrough of Route X: Video Games and the Postmodern Gothic by Joanna Parypinski: I almost skipped this one, as it appeared to be about a video game I'd never played. Well, I'm SO glad I didn't. An absolute favorite from the collection, do NOT skip this!
- The Food Fellow by Ivy Grimes: When an author manages to make feel such real emotion and anxiety, I know they're doing something right. Grimes does such a phenomenal job here of unsettling the reader.
- This Story Will Kill You by Kurt Fawver: I bet it will! Fawver is a master of the craft, clearly, and this story is no exception. A very unique and creepy take on the genre. A perfect way to end!
I am not a poem fan, and while I did read all the ones included here, I'll be reserving any thoughts/comments on them, as it is not fair. I also skipped two analysis essays that were written about pieces of literature I've not yet read.
There are a whole bunch of stories/essays in this volume, so I'll only be calling out stories that especially stood out to me. Nearly all stories were 4 or 5 stars, though.
My favorites, in order of appearance:
- Voyeur by Tori Fredrick: incredibly uncomfortable and upsetting. I was enthralled and couldn't pull my eyes away from the page.
- A Walkthrough of Route X: Video Games and the Postmodern Gothic by Joanna Parypinski: I almost skipped this one, as it appeared to be about a video game I'd never played. Well, I'm SO glad I didn't. An absolute favorite from the collection, do NOT skip this!
- The Food Fellow by Ivy Grimes: When an author manages to make feel such real emotion and anxiety, I know they're doing something right. Grimes does such a phenomenal job here of unsettling the reader.
- This Story Will Kill You by Kurt Fawver: I bet it will! Fawver is a master of the craft, clearly, and this story is no exception. A very unique and creepy take on the genre. A perfect way to end!
July 10, 2022
It only took 6 months but I finally finished this! Stand-outs were Fold, Voyeur, Vulture Eyes, and Heartstrings. Look forward to snagging another issue in the future.
January 22, 2022
I think I'm not quite the target audience for Vastarien as I don't love Ligotti himself (and Vastarien is meant to be Ligottian). I do love when the capital-w Weird gets literally weird, I love the fever dreams that draw you in as a reader but don't confuse, and I loved the stories in this book with the deepest character and stickiest settings. I don't love the pieces where there is an excess of "telling", the deep dives into daily living, the dense prose pieces, and the stories without explicit endings or middles.
Of the over 20 short stories in this issue, here are my top 3.
The Mushroom Men by Carson Winter. Trippy, a wonderful circular narrative, and some guys really into their hobby of morel foraging.
Vulture Eyes by Christa Carmen - Dark and haunting, about the sins of your past haunting you (but, like literally). Wonderful juxtapostion between past and present.
This Story Will Kill You by Kurt Fawver - In-world meta, dark, voicey, and weird. I feel like this might have started as a story-writing challenge but it actually worked out. A story-teller's story for sure.
The poetry was also all solid, and I am going back to read and take more detailed notes on the essay "The Three Paradigms of Horror" by Dejan Ognjanovic - really useful as a horror writer.
However, there were also a lot of stories that I skimmed! It was a weird collection for me, where some hit so well and then others were very far from the style I enjoy reading.
Of the over 20 short stories in this issue, here are my top 3.
The Mushroom Men by Carson Winter. Trippy, a wonderful circular narrative, and some guys really into their hobby of morel foraging.
Vulture Eyes by Christa Carmen - Dark and haunting, about the sins of your past haunting you (but, like literally). Wonderful juxtapostion between past and present.
This Story Will Kill You by Kurt Fawver - In-world meta, dark, voicey, and weird. I feel like this might have started as a story-writing challenge but it actually worked out. A story-teller's story for sure.
The poetry was also all solid, and I am going back to read and take more detailed notes on the essay "The Three Paradigms of Horror" by Dejan Ognjanovic - really useful as a horror writer.
However, there were also a lot of stories that I skimmed! It was a weird collection for me, where some hit so well and then others were very far from the style I enjoy reading.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews