Tag Archives: Anthology

Inside an Anthology: Dudes Rock ed. by Jay Kang Romanus

Today on the site I’m delighted to share in giving readers a peek into Dudes Rock, a recently released adult anthology edited by Jay Kang Romanus “celebrating queer masculinity in speculative fiction.” Here’s the story:

What does masculinity mean to you?

Whether the answer is “toxic” or something more aspirational, speculative fiction can help you find the language to talk about it. The stories in this anthology visualize all the different ways masculinity might look in a world different than our own, for better or worse.
Imagine living in a universe where you’d feel safe telling your best friend you’ve always loved him, or where smoking hot demons exist to indulge all your worst impulses. From buff aliens to gender-affirming werewolf bites, Dudes Rock is about celebrating everything that queer masculinity can become beyond the confines of a single world, and we want you to rock with us.

Featuring stories by Chase Anderson, Johannes T. Evans, Oliver Fosten, Jonathan Freeman, Rick Hollon, Sam Inverts, S. C. Mills, Franklyn S. Newton, Jay Kang Romanus, Aubrey Shaw, Simo Srinivas, Candy Tan, and Scott Vaughn.

“Pick up this anthology for a satisfying and imaginative journey through universes of magic and super-science, with queer masculinity—in all its glorious complexity—as your guiding star.” — Trip Galey, author of A Market of Dreams and Destiny

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

And here’s a look at some of the individual contributions, thanks to their authors!

Continue reading Inside an Anthology: Dudes Rock ed. by Jay Kang Romanus

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Athlete is Agender ed. by Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby

Today on the site, I’m thrilled to reveal the cover for Athlete is Agender, an exciting upcoming nonfiction Middle Grade anthology about queer and trans athletes edited by Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby and releasing from Christy Ottaviano Books on May 13, 2025! Here to talk about it are Katherine and Nicole:

Continue reading Exclusive Cover Reveal: Athlete is Agender ed. by Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby

Inside an Anthology: The House Where Death Lives ed. by Alex Brown

Today on the site we’re taking a peek inside The House Where Death Lives ed. by Alex Brown, a Speculative YA Fiction anthology that just released yesterday from Page Street! Here’s the gist: 

A dance to the death. A girl who’s just as monstrous as H.H. Holmes. A hallway that’s constantly changing―and hungry. All of these stories exist in the same place―within the frame of a particular house that isn’t bound by the laws of time and space.

Following in the footsteps of dark/horror-filled YA anthologies like His Hideous Heart and Slasher Girls and Monster Boys, and Netflix’s ground-breaking adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House, this YA speculative fiction anthology explores how the permanence of a home can become a space of transition and change for both the inhabitants and the creatures who haunt them.

Each story in the anthology will focus on a different room in the house and feature unique takes on monsters from a wide array of cultural traditions. Whether it’s a demonic Trickster, a water-loving Rusalka, or a horrifying, baby-imitating Tiyanak, there’s bound to be something sinister lurking in the shadows.

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

And here’s an inside look at some of the stories!

“Good Morning, Georgia” by Courtney Gould

In “Good Morning, Georgia,” we follow a teen girl named Leah who has been grounded to her attic bedroom for days when she finds that there is an entity in her vanity mirror. There were lots of fun things I wanted to try with the story – playing with perspective, trying to craft a compelling romance in only a few thousand words, taking a swing at haunted houses (which, shockingly, I haven’t done before). But I also wanted to discuss something that crops up in a lot of my work, which is the specificity of lesbian loneliness. Leah is incredibly, painfully lonely, stuck in a house that is somewhat suspended in time and place, and when she begins communicating with “Georgia” the entity (who may or may not be another teen girl) through her mirror, Leah becomes incredibly attached not just to Georgia, but to the feeling of connection with another person. When I was younger, I spent a lot of time isolating myself and communicating solely with online friendships, and as I wrote “Good Morning, Georgia,” the dynamic between Leah and Georgia began to feel very familiar to me. I hope readers identify with Leah’s story, and that the feeling of loneliness and isolation can be something that helps us find community.

“The Phantom’s Waltz” by Rosiee Thor

I’ve always been drawn to the inherent sadness and longing in horror, so with “The Phantom’s Waltz” I wanted to explore the story from the monster’s point of view. The phantom in my story is tethered to the ballroom by an agreement she made with her dance teacher, cursed to haunt the steps of anyone who dances there until she can trick a mortal into taking her place. She’s determined never to inflict her fate on anyone else, but when a teenage girl keeps coming back to practice with her in the ballroom night after night, she’s faced with the choice between a blossoming love with a mortal girl or her own freedom. I drew heavily from my own experiences in a competitive dance environment and the way that the pursuit of perfection can destroy people’s lives and relationships when writing this story. I also wanted to explore the sapphic conundrum of “do I want to be her or do I want her” with a bit of a devil’s bargain in the mix. Dance has always been a big part of my life, but it’s also been a complete horror show at times, so bringing a little queer haunting to the world of dance felt natural–it’s Jojo Siwa’s world and we’re all just dancers in it.

“Let’s Play A Game” by Shelly Page

In “Let’s Play A Game” the main character, Jayde, is having a rough summer. Her parents are going through a divorce, and her girlfriend has been missing for months. Jayde can’t remember the circumstances surrounding her girlfriend’s disappearance or decide which parent she wants to live with. Everything is uncertain. The only sure thing in Jayde’s life is the old house across the street and the voice calling to her from inside. When she finally explores the house, she meets a trickster fae who wants to play a game, but this is no ordinary game. It’s a game that uncovers the memories Jayde has lost, brings to light her fears of being boring, of being used, and ultimately, of not being enough. At its heart, my story is about the expectations put on us by our parents, partners, and peers, and finding the courage to break out of that mold, sometimes with the help of an unlikely friend (or, should I say, fae?).

“What Lies in Silence” by Justine Pucella Winans

My horror story, “What Lies in Silence” came from a place of deep grief and a complicated love of music. All through my childhood, my hero was my nonno–a true Renaissance man, who taught himself a variety of instruments and dug his own cellars for the wine he crafted and sculpted his own fountain from cement. He always supported my writing, the singing I was too afraid to do in front of others, and loved that I was an artist. I lost him before I got to share my writing with the world, because I got to share who I was with the world and with him. This story allowed me to explore that devastation and that love through my protagonist, Luce, a nonbinary teen who comes across a terrifying and vengeful strega in the music room of their house. Expanding upon lore and legend from my own family, I crafted a monster who preys on the lonely and the silent, a manifestation of how I felt when I didn’t have a voice, when the only thing I heard in the music I once loved was the vacuum sound of loss. I hope this story, while creeping readers out, will also show teens that grief may never leave us, it may always be there, lurking and striking at unexpected moments, but that the ones we love are never completely lost, and that despite everything, we live on.

“In Deep” by C.L. McCollum

Home has always included the outdoors for me, and since I grew up swimming in ponds and creeks, adding a swimming hole to our creepy property just made sense. And bringing in a gorgeous (if sinister) mystery girl swimming there for my MC? Well, that’s a little bit of wish fulfillment, I won’t lie. Still, there’s something about murky water and things hidden beneath the surface that resonates with my queer life as a bi girl: there have always been those people both in and out of our queer community who will take advantage of the ambiguity of bi and pan folks. Keeping the secrets of our own heartbreaks can feel like drowning, and I think that’s what I hoped to show with Reece.

“The Shoe” by Alex Brown

As “The Shoe,” begins, Davina is left heartbroken on her front porch after a failed promposal. Dav is convinced that she’ll be alone forever–until a mysterious girl speaks to her from the shadows. Dav and her new friend get to know each other and find that there’s the possibility of something more. If Dav wants to find love, she’ll have to get over the idea of perfection that she’s forced on her new friend. As “The Shoe” progresses, we learn that Dav’s new friend is a manananggal–a monster from Filipino folklore that’s missing her legs–and that she’s the monster in one of the stories Dav’s nanay used to tell her. While Dav is frightened of the truth at first, she learns that the stories she grew up with contained warnings for the wrong people. And that, sometimes, the monsters we’re taught to fear are the ones we need the most.  

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

Alex Brown at SRK Headshot Day in Oakland

Alex Brown is a Locus Award finalist and a queer Filipino American writer who loves rooting for the Final Girl—especially if she’s a monster. Alex’s YA Horror Comedy debut, Damned If You Do, was a Junior Library Gold Standard Selection and was also placed on Taysha’s Reading List. Alex is the co-editor of Night of the Living Queers and the editor of The House Where Death Lives, a YA Horror anthology that also received the JLG Gold Standard distinction. Alex is also a literary agent and lives in the San Francisco area with her partner and their three chaotic cats.

Inside an Anthology: Being Ace ed. by Madeline Dyer

Today on the site I’m delighted to kick off Asexual Awareness Week with a peek inside the new anthology Being Ace, ed. by Madeline Dyer! The collection released earlier this month from Page Street, and we’re about to dig into the contributions. But first! A little more about the anthology:

Discover the infinite realms of asexual love across sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary stories

From a wheelchair user racing to save her kidnapped girlfriend and a little mermaid who loves her sisters more than suitors, to a slayer whose virgin blood keeps attracting monsters, the stories of this anthology are anything but conventional. Whether adventuring through space, outsmarting a vengeful water spirit, or surviving haunted cemeteries, no two aces are the same in these 14 unique works that highlight asexual romance, aromantic love, and identities across the asexual spectrum.

Forward by Cody Daigle-Orians
With Stories by: Linsey Miller, Rosiee Thor, Moniza Hossain, Akemi Dawn Bowman, Emily Victoria S.J. Taylor, RoAnna Sylver, Kat Yuen, K. Hart, Jas Brown, Lara Ameen, S.E. Anderson, Anju Imura, and Madeline Dyer

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

And here’s a glimpse inside the stories!

“No Such Thing As Just” by K. Hart

“No Such Thing As Just” follows Halcion, a nonbinary ace who despite their flamboyant public persona is not out as ace to anyone in their life, and the mysterious threatening letters they begin to receive that seem to be chasing them away from their best friend. The story features examples of emotional abuse from a partner, mentions of drug use, and clear instances of manipulation. It was important for me to write this because as a writer and a person I don’t think that we can ignore the dark parts of the world. However, as with the story and its hopeful end, I want to show people that you don’t have to remove the pain or the darkness, or hide it. Light is there, even if that light looks far different than expected. People who have lived through abuse and trauma rarely see their darkness and light co-exist. I wanted to show, for all of us dark creatures out there, that it can and does, and for every other ace regardless of background to know that we don’t have to squeeze ourselves into a specific mould of love just because we think we should.

“Moonspirited” by Anju Imura

“Moonspirited” has a lot of Ghibli-esque charm to it that I didn’t quite intentionally write into, but I think was needed to balance out the rawness of its core: Grief and alienation from an aroace gaze. There is a scene in Isao Takahata’s The Tale of Princess Kaguya (2013) that stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Kaguya, a mystical foundling child taken in by a humble old couple who turns out to be from the Moon, is embraced intimately by the Emperor himself—and she rejects him. You see her revulsion, something visceral crosses her face, causing her to call for the Moon to come take her back. To me, it was asexual repulsion, the first representation of that feeling, coded and synthesised from one of Japan’s oldest science fiction stories. Are we, asexuals and aromantics, Moon People? It’s the fascination that started me into imagining deep space worlds ruled by spirits and gods, and where an aroace might be able to reflect, bravely despite all the grievance held in, who she is in a world that divides itself so easily into negative spaces of absence and want. Moonspirited has shifted and transformed since its first iteration, but I hope these ideas can still be found in spirit if not in name.

“Give up the Ghost” by Linsey Miller

“Give up the Ghost” is a story for the aces who made every plant, robot, and ghost joke before anyone else had a chance to. It features Cassandra, an ace girl who has repurposed the assumptions her town has made about her into a job only she can do—ferrying people through a haunted forest to speak to their dead loved ones in the town’s cemetery. The pay is more than good, but what she’s really after are their secrets. Someone murdered her best friend, the friend she never confessed to due to her fear of being rejected for being ace, and she’s determined to find out who before she leaves for college. This story is spooky and hopeful, and it allowed me to explore ace tropes in media. We aren’t ghosts, but sometimes we cling to what haunts us for protection. We’re self-deprecating. We say the jokes first. We force ourselves into uncomfortable situations to prove our worth or our aceness or both. This is a story about laying those ghosts to rest.

“Well Suited” by Rosiee Thor

In “Well Suited,” compulsory allonormativity takes form as a belligerent suit of armor. I was inspired by what the personification of compulsory allonormativity and compulsory heteronormativity  might look like in a fantasy world where something like a human construct can really come alive. It was especially compelling to me within the context of the antagonist being of the characters’ own making. Sir Guy, the suit of armor, is created for the sole purpose of being a fake fiancé for Brindle, a young lady who must find a suitable male escort to her coming out ball. When her best friend, nonbinary wizard Fig, brings Sir Guy to life, they’re left to question whether armor is really a shield or more of a cage. This double edged sword is something that has popped up in my own experience of being ace time and time again, and I loved having the opportunity to explore it within a fantasy setting.

“The Witch of Fest Falls” by S. J. Taylor

“The Witch of Festa Falls” is a historical fantasy steeped in Norwegian folklore. Seventeen-year-old Birga is out to avenge the death of her beloved cousin Rúna. A monster in the woods took Rúna… and now it’s after other girls. Birga vows to end the creature. But there may be more than one way to mend her broken heart, and more than one heart that needs healing. I’ve become fascinated with working traditional folklore into modern fiction, playing with old tales we’ve created to explain the world to ourselves–and, ourselves to the world. Birga is able to use the traits her neighbors fear and despise most about her to fight back against a monster terrorizing her home. Bonus: Revenge via fiber arts! Come and visit the Norwegian forest with me.

“Sealights” by Emily Victoria

When I was a teen, the relationships that really defined me were those of my friends and my family. So, that’s what I wanted to write about in this story. “Sealights” is all about  a young ace woman who’s been doing her best to keep her father’s legacy alive by skimming sea magic to power her town’s lighthouse. However, the sea magic is failing, and it’s not until she meets an industrious earth magic girl that she realizes the answer to all of her problems might have been there all along. I hope my stories connect with all teens who are figuring out who they are and who their friends are. And I hope everyone enjoys my little cinnamon roll characters!

“The Hazards of Pressing Play” by Lara Ameen

This story was first conceptualized in 2019 as I worked on a pitch of it with author Dana Mele for an anthology she was putting together about queer authors writing sci-fi thrillers. So, originally, this story was a sci-fi thriller. That anthology died on submission and by the time it did, I hadn’t written much of the story anyway. When I decided to use the story for Being Ace, it became a contemporary thriller and the technological/sci-fi aspects of the story were removed. The main character’s name also changed. I was also inspired by a TV drama pilot I had written and shelved in 2019, a contemporary thriller about disabled vigilantes taking down a eugenics institution. While I didn’t end up using that storyline, the main character, Violet, in “The Hazards of Pressing Play” gets her name from the main character, Violet, of that TV pilot script. As a speculative fiction writer, writing this YA thriller story for Being Ace was a new experience for me. I loved writing Violet’s determination to save her girlfriend as well as her friendship with Felix. When writing disabled characters, asexuality is usually portrayed as a negative stereotype implying that disabled people are denied bodily agency and cannot or do not experience romantic or sexual attraction. However, it is Violet’s love for her girlfriend Nova that drives the heart of the story as well as the external and internalized ableism she fights against. I view Violet’s relationship with Nova as one that is built on trust, consent, and romantic rather than sexual attraction. I wanted to show that disabled characters who are asexual can be the heroes of their own stories. I hope disabled ace readers can see a piece of themselves in Violet and in this story as a whole.

“The Mermaid’s Sister” by Moniza Hossain

I chose to do a fairytale retelling for this anthology because I’ve always wanted to do one. I chose The Little Mermaid because despite its overt heterosexuality, it is inherently a queer tale. It’s a story about doomed and illicit love, a painful reflection of Andersen’s own life as a closeted gay man. I have always found it very difficult to relate to the little mermaid. There’s just something so ridiculous about how romantic love is portrayed in the story (maybe deliberately so, since romantic love as Andersen knew it was extremely heteronormative and exclusionary). According to the sea witch, the little mermaid would only have successfully won over the prince if “he is willing to forget his father and mother” for her sake. And the mermaid on her part is more than happy to leave behind her father, her grandmother, and her five sisters for someone she has never even spoken to. When I was a kid reading the unabridged story for the first time (complete with a horrific illustration of the little mermaid turning to sea foam when she dies at the end), my sympathies lay entirely with her family. Her poor sisters gave up their hair to save her only to have her kill herself for a random man. Absolutely not! So I did a retelling with the focus firmly back where it should be — on the love between sisters — because there is more than one type of love in the world. And all love is equally important. And my little mermaid is not going to kill herself for a man, no thank you.

“No Cure for Doubt” by Jas Brown

It’s hard to be brave enough to make your own decisions when it feels like your entire life has never belonged to you. I think a lot of the time we can feel like prisoners of our trauma or disabilities, and sometimes we need somebody else to tell us that we’re allowed to choose something else. So is this story about grief or is it about forgiving yourself for the wrong you’ve done in the past and choosing to do something different going forward? Really, it’s about how love might not always be the answer (but it is the reason), and that we are all worthy of it no matter who we are or what we’ve done. Also that we deserve happy endings!

“The Third Star” by RoAnna Sylver

My story is a weird, cosmic, very queer expression of so many raw, blazing, blistering feelings at once – and it all kind of came out in a howl.

It’s about breakdowns in communication, especially from a very neurodivergent POV. Loneliness, listening, figuring out relationships (romantic, queerplatonic, polyamory, family) and their infinite beautiful varieties. Environmentalism, honoring the universe as a living thing even as we struggle to live in it. Norse myth, galactic disaster, prophecy, and gigantic-ass space wolves in all their cosmic-horror and glory. And it’s about monsters: chasing them, fearing them, becoming them – and what makes a “monsterat all.

“Nylon Bed Socks” by Madeline Dyer

In my story “Nylon Bed Socks,” Amelia is desperate to escape—both the psychiatric hospital she’s found herself in and life itself. I wanted to write an emotional examination of the inner conflict and trauma that follows acephobic violence and the disassociation this can lead to—but it was important for me to also include positive messages about healing and my main character finding those who are accepting of her asexuality too. I also chose to write this story in verse and employ a spiral plot pattern; this narrative mode allowed me to examine the rawness of emotion in a way that mirrored how Amelia’s unprocessed trauma was growing, unchecked, in her mind, and how at the end of the story, community with other ace-spec individuals helps her feel less alone. It’s ultimately a story about the power one finds in being believed and accepted—both in terms of finding others like yourself and in healing from acephobic violence.

Inside an Anthology: Lofty Mountains ed. by J.S. Fields

Today on the site we’re taking a look inside Lofty Mountains ed. by J.S. Fields, an anthology of Sapphic fantasy stories that released on October 10th from Space Wizard Science Fantasy! Here’s the gist:

Look to the skies!

Brave adventurers face new relationships and adversity in all sizes, from steampunk dirigibles to harpies, giant bees to garden gnomes, and winged dinosaurs to sky pirates.

Isolated mountain peaks, clifftop cities, and battles in the sky abound in this sapphic anthology focused on overcoming challenges awaiting in the clouds.

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

And here’s a little more insight into the stories from its contributors and illustrator! Continue reading Inside an Anthology: Lofty Mountains ed. by J.S. Fields

Exclusive Cover Reveal: We Mostly Come Out at Night ed. by Rob Costello

Today on the site, I’m delighted to be revealing the cover of We Mostly Came Out at Night, a YA anthology edited by Rob Costello and releasing from Running Press Books on May 21, 2024 that’s the perfect intro to spooky season! Here’s the gist:

An empowering cross-genre YA anthology that explores what it means to be a monster, exclusively highlighting trans and queer authors who offer new tales and perspectives on classic monster stories and tropes. 

Be not afraid! These monsters, creatures, and beasties are not what they appear. We Mostly Come Out at Night is a YA anthology that reclaims the monstrous for the LGBTQA+ community while exploring how there is freedom and power in embracing the things that make you stand out. Each story centers on both original and familiar monsters and creatures—including Mothman, Carabosse, a girl with thirteen shadows, a living house, werebeasts, gorgons, sirens, angels, and many others—and their stories of love, self-acceptance, resilience, and empowerment. This collection is a bold, transformative celebration of queerness and the creatures that (mostly) go bump in the night.

Contributors include editor Rob Costello, Kalynn Bayron, David Bowles, Shae Carys, Rob Costello, H.E. Edgmon, Michael Thomas Ford, Val Howlett, Brittany Johnson, Naomi Kanakia, Claire Kann, Jonathan Lenore Kastin, Sarah Maxfield, Sam J. Miller, Alexandra Villasante, and Merc Fenn Wolfmoor.

And here’s the creeptastic cover, designed by Frances Soo Ping Chow and illustrated by James Fenner!

Buy it: Amazon | B&N

Rob Costello (he/him) writes contemporary and speculative fiction with a queer bent for and about young people. He’s the author of the forthcoming short story collection The Dancing Bears: Queer Fables for the End Times (Lethe Press, 2024). His stories have appeared in The DarkThe NoSleep PodcastThe Magazine of Fantasy & Science FictionHunger MountainStone CanoeNarrative, and Rural Voices: 15 Authors Challenge Assumptions About Small-Town America (Candlewick, 2020). An alumnus of the Millay Colony of the Arts, Rob holds an MFA in writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts and has served on the faculty of the Highlights Foundation since 2014. He lives in upstate New York with his husband and their four-legged overlords.

Inside an Anthology: Night of the Living Queers ed. by Alex Brown and Shelly Page

Today on the site we’re doing a dive into Night of the Living Queers, an all-queer Horror anthology edited by Alex Brown and Shelly Page and releasing August 29th from Wednesday Books! Not only is this collection super queer, but the lineup is entirely comprised of authors of color, providing fresh perspectives for an anthology that is not to be missed! Here’s the official description:

Night of the Living Queers is a YA horror anthology that explores a night when anything is possible, exclusively featuring queer authors of color putting fresh spins on classic horror tropes and tales.

No matter its name or occasion, Halloween is more than a Hallmark holiday, it’s a symbol of transformation. NIGHT OF THE LIVING QUEERS is a YA horror anthology that explores how Halloween can be more than just candies and frights, but a night where anything is possible. Each short story is told through the lens of a different BIPOC teen and the Halloween night that changes their lives forever. Creative, creepy, and queer, this collection brings fresh terror, heart, and humor to young adult literature.

Contributors include editors Alex Brown and Shelly Page, Kalynn Bayron, Ryan Douglass, Sara Farizan, Maya Gittelman, Kosoko Jackson, Em Liu, Vanessa Montalban, Ayida Shonibar, Tara Sim, Trang Thanh Tran, and Rebecca Kim Wells.

Buy it: Bookshop | Amazon

And here’s a little more on some of the stories, from the authors themselves!

Sara Farizan, A Brief Intermission

A Brief Intermission is about two cinephile employees at a drive-in movie theater who have to work overtime on Halloween and play a movie for some ghostly guests. I’ve long been interested in the history of drive-ins in the U.S. as well as Chevy Bel-Air cars and thought this would be a good vehicle for those interests. Get it? Vehicle? Anyway, if you like cinema, jokes, ghouls, and fear conformity, you might get a kick out of this story.

Rebecca Wells, Guested 

I’m a big scaredy-cat, so I began my short story by brainstorming all the horror tropes that frighten me. The answer of course is all of them, but one I found myself circling back to was the idea that someone in my life (possibly myself!) could be possessed. Mindswaps, multiverses where people come back “wrong,” possession by demons or parasites or even other people – it’s all scary. Add on to that the idea that I might know what’s wrong but not be able to convince anyone of the truth? Downright horrifying. But the scariest part (to my main character, anyway) is that most of the characters in my story want to be possessed. Just not in the wrong way…

Kosoko Jackson, Rocky Road with Caramel Drizzle

My story, Rocky Road with Caramel Drizzle, was inspired by the idea of killing your gays. So many stories only focus on queer pain and how queers need to ‘rise above’ their attackers, to become a better person and grow from it. While that may be a valid route for some, people, all people, deserve to use their rage and process their pain how they see fit. And sometimes, that’s through punishment. I wanted to write something with magic, darkness, validity and romance, to show queer kids sad events don’t mean sad lives, and that whatever path you take, when hurt, is okay and valid. I also love crossroad demons and wanted to write a queer twist on that.

Ayida Shonibar, Save Me from Myself

Save Me from Myself is about a teen’s dread made manifest—the character’s, and my own. It’s a tragedy. And a love story. Horror as a genre resonates for me in how it justifies a current of fear permeating the narrative. Existing alongside frequent intrusive worries, especially ones rooted in environments that raised you, means some are bound to come true. An inner fear materialising into reality can feel like “proof” that you should continue carrying all the fears with you and can send you into bone-chilling panic over missed opportunities to prevent it. It feels like your worst thoughts, intangible yet large and powerful, control your world more than you do—a sort of cosmic horror. This is why stories like Kafka’s “Die Verwandlung / The Metamorphosis” really spoke to me growing up. You might think you’re impossible to love—that if, miraculously, somebody does make the mistake of loving you, it can’t be real, or it’ll be lost, or you’re not worth the sacrifice it takes. That loving you is the missed opportunity. I tried to encompass this cold terror in the ending—the abject, abrupt devastation I struggled to make sense of as a teenager in the face of misfortune. But deeply uncomfortable fears and worthiness of love can coexist. They’re not mutually exclusive. When things go horribly wrong, you can, and should, still be loved. I hope the ending leaves the reader with a belief in love that remains unshakeably true and deserved, even despite the ugliest of outcomes that can’t always be controlled.

Shelly Page, Anna

My story, Anna, is about a teen who must save the kids she’s babysitting from a ghost. I knew I wanted to write something along the lines of Halloween and Ouijia, but with a twist. My story explores themes of abandonment, loneliness, and, of course, fear. I wanted to show readers that the past doesn’t have to dictate your future, and that giving into fear ensures you stay trapped. I hope my story connects with teen readers who feel afraid to take a chance or make a change. If you can find the courage to overcome your fear, even if it takes a helping hand, it can mean true happiness.

Maya Gittelman, Leyla Mendoza and the Last House on the Lane 

The texture of my story is written with deep love for the Philippines, and the communities of Philippine diaspora Leyla and I belong to. Fraught love tangled in tension and grief, but love at the core of it, love as the force of it, love learning how best to grow. Love inextricable, woven tight into the dissonance.

The plot of Leyla Mendoza emerged out of two concepts. First, the Western fear of aging and the elderly—I wanted to respond to the fairytale and horror trope of “there’s someone old and alone, and that means we as a community deserve to judge them.” And secondly, I wanted to use that response as a vessel to explore other experiences of non-belonging. The core of this story came together as: what does it mean to imagine a possible trans future for yourself when you have no real-life examples of it? What might it mean to imagine a transmasc future when you don’t have a role model for the kind of man you want to be, a future in which your femininity belongs to you without needing to align with anyone else’s? I wanted to breathe magic into the fact that for many trans people, even though we might have to build that future for ourselves, it’s possible and it’s necessary and it’s more beautiful that you can imagine. And—you are not alone.

Alex Brown, The Three Phases of Ghost-Hunting

The Three Phases of Ghost Hunting is about two best friends (who want to be more than just friends) who are spending their Halloween night in a mall food court as they search for the truth behind an infamous local legend: Terrifying Bob, the (alleged) pizza-stealing ghost of a pirate who died a few centuries ago. What starts out as a light-hearted investigation turns into an adventure that brings them face-to-face with an entity that’s way more powerful than a ghost.

This story is my ode to every paranormal believer and skeptic pairing out there! I wanted to pay homage to one of my favorite trope-y pairs in a fun (and vaguely existentially terrifying way). Daisy and Iris are both queer Asian Americans, like me, and I was delighted and honored to bring them to life (and get them together at the end)!

Cover Reveal: Written With Pride ed. by Viveca Shearin, Claudine Griggs, and Fable Tethras

Today on the site, I’m delighted to reveal the cover of Written With Pride, an all-queer anthology edited by Viveca Shearin, Claudine Griggs, and Fable Tethras, and releasing from Not a Pipe Publishing on June 1, 2023!

Created in opposition to Florida’s Don’t Say Gay bill, Written With Pride is an anthology published by Not a Pipe Publishing exclusively filled with short stories by authors who all belong to the broad and beautiful spectrum of the LGBTQIA+ community. The stories range in style and subject matter, as well as genre-from contemporary to speculative fiction. Not all of them have happy endings, but all of them were penned by members of our community who still believe in their voice.

The contents include:

Kiersten Adams – “Anatomy of the Universe and Us”
J.L. Henker – “Are You Really Going to Cook That?”
Ethan Jones – “Bull by the Horns,” “Ferryman”
Marianne Xenos – “Doomcookies and Donuts”
Lina Gerhard – “From the Vine”
Erin Edwards – “Good Bye”
Gwen Tolios – “Isolation Training”
Oliver Fosten – “Wolf Skin”
Katie Kent – “I Hear You”
Summer Jewel Keown – “Scion”
Tucker Struyk – “The Way I see It,” “Getaway”

And here’s the rainbow cover, designed by editor Fable Tethras!

Buy it: Amazon

Fable Tethras is a journalist-turned-author who writes depressing science fiction and less depressing fantasy. Their short story, Shrinking, was awarded an honorable mention in the L Ron Hubbard’s Writers of the Future Contest and is published in Not A Pipe Publishing’s Anthology Shout: An Anthology of Resistance Short Fiction and Poetry. They live in Albuquerque, NM, where they spend most of their time writing or playing board games.

Viveca Shearin started off as a freelance editor who joined Not a Pipe Publishing to work on a single novel and has worked her way to the top. In 2020 she was promoted to co-publisher and co-owner. She lives in Brooklyn, New York. When she’s not working, Viveca can often be found with a big mug of tea (or coffee), her face buried in a good book or video game, and her beloved cat nearby for company.

Claudine Griggs’ fiction has appeared in Lightspeed, Escape Pod, Zahir Tales, New Theory, Leading Edge SF, Not a Pipe Publishing, Upper Rubber Boot Books, Mount Island, Ligeia, Flora Fiction, etc. Her story “Helping Hand” appears as an episode in the Netflix series “Love, Death & Robots.”  Her first novel, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, was released on June 1, 2020, and a book-length story collection, Firestorm, was released on March 13, 2022.  She has two nonfiction books out regarding trans/gender issues as well. Claudine is a long-time member of the Authors Guild and a member of Science Fiction Writers of America.

At Midnight (UK): an Interview by Once Upon a Bookcase

As many of you know, a couple of months ago we lost a wonderful friend and champion of queer books in Jo, a brilliant bookseller and the blogger behind Once Upon a Bookcase. Jo had interviewed me about At Midnight for her blog, but due to a very ridiculous miscommunication on my part, I didn’t get the answers to her on time, so we said we’d publish it on her blog for the UK release on February 7th, which probably made more sense anyway, being that she’s in the UK.

Of course, neither of us had any clue that those few months would be everything. 

Tomorrow, the UK version of At Midnight releases from Titan Books, and there is no one I was more excited to celebrate with than Jo. She was the first person I told when it sold there, and she was, as always, incredibly excited and supportive. As it happened, the final pages arrived for my review a couple of days before she passed, and so the UK version has an addition to the dedication page, because truly, that edition was for nobody more than Jo. 

I know this isn’t the typical interview I post here, but, well, hopefully you understand the exception. 

Rest in peace, Jo. Thank you for everything. 

Once Upon a Bookcase

Q: Can you tell us a little about At Midnight?

A: At Midnight is an anthology of fairytales reimagined by some of my favorite YA authors, predominantly based on the tales by the brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen, and Charles Perrault, though there are definitely some other influences in there. It’s a pretty dark collection, though there are some definite romantic and/or funny bright spots.

Q: How did you come up with the idea for At Midnight? 

A: It was actually Anna-Marie McLemore’s idea! We were texting about something and they suggested it and I said it was a great idea and they should pitch it, but they had no interest in being an editor. So they gave the idea to me to pitch to my editor at Flatiron, under the condition they could be a contributor, and, well, obviously. 

I thought fairy tales went really well with my other two collections, which are Poe and Shakespeare, in that they’re well-known and there’s a lot of scholarship there. These are stories that have survived and evolved for centuries, and no matter how much one might want to relegate them to children’s flights of fancy, that endurance should make very clear their literary merits are not easily dismissed. And that’s even before you get to the fascinating cultural studies of how different versions compare around the world. Fairytales are truly a brilliant academic subject!

I also really wanted to achieve something similar to the other collections, which is to center these well-known stories on characters who don’t always get to see themselves in fairytales, but also just to see how these authors would shake them up. I knew the results would be fun and interesting, and they definitely were!

Q: How did you decide who to approach as potential contributors for this anthology?

A: Well Anna-Marie was the first obvious addition, as the idea was theirs, and they’re also simply one of the very best short story writers in YA right now. The rest really came from different directions, but with the exception of Anna-Marie and Malinda (because how incredibly iconic is getting the author of Ash to be in your fairytale reimagining anthology??) I actively stayed away from authors who do fairytale retellings. (Or mostly any retellings, but I was so excited by Legendborn that I had to leap on Tracy Deonn.) I definitely wanted some authors whose work was more “touched” with magic rather than defined by it, and if you’ve read Roselle Lim or Darcie Little Badger, for example, you know what I mean.

My editor at Flatiron was also very involved here, which helped bring three of her authors into the lineup. And some authors really excited me as potential contributors because they write in so many different genres that I didn’t know what they’d deliver, like Alex London, who’s well known in YA for both sci-fi and fantasy but tends to go more contemporary in his short fiction (as he did indeed do here). 

I never give instruction for genre, to be honest; I find I don’t really need to. When you’re doing reimaginings, there’s a tone built into the work that, as long as you reasonably keep to it, can work in multiple genres, and that’s the more important angle. In fairy tales, you want to capture the darkness, the haunting, the romance, the prevalent plotline elements, etc. and that’ll lend itself nicely to romance, fantasy, horror, and thrilling contemporary, so that’s what dominates here. 

Some of the authors wrote exactly what you’d expect, genre-wise, and some went totally outside; there’s only so much you can control that without being overbearing. But it makes it more interesting not to know exactly what you’re gonna get. Then, when stories come in, I like to scatter the genres around, making sure they flow nicely into each other without condensing too much of any one in a single section. I know not everyone reads anthologies in order, but story order is really important to me when I craft a collection. 

Q: What was the process? Did you suggest specific fairy tales for those authors, or open it to them to suggest which fairy tale they would like to retell?

A: I left it totally open, but it was a little “first come, first serve” in terms of responses, so some authors definitely had fewer to choose from. The only thing fully planned going in was that Melissa Albert would write an original tale, because, well, if you’ve read The Hazel Wood, you know that she can absolutely crush that assignment. (And she did.) 

Q: How was it decided which fairy tales would be retold for At Midnight, and which wouldn’t? 

A: Everyone was allowed to pick their own; the only pushing I really did was to make sure the absolute biggest ones were covered. Like, I’m not doing a fairy tale anthology that doesn’t include Cinderella or Snow White. There are a few stories I can’t believe didn’t make it in, but that’s the case for some of the things that aren’t in my earlier anthologies, too. You can’t fit everything. 

I didn’t take fairy tale retellings from recent years into consideration because longform and short form are just so different, and really, there have been so many novels with this theme. The number of Cinderella adaptations alone is probably greater than the number of stories in this anthology. But that wasn’t gonna make me leave out Cinderella!

Q: You are hugely passionate about diverse books and stories, and the majority – if not all – original fairy tales feature mainly privileged characters in very specific gender roles. The majority of the stories in At Midnight are by authors from marginalised groups, about characters from marginalised groups. Did you approach particular authors with the idea of them writing specific representation into their stories?

A: I don’t like to tell people what to write, so I avoid that as much as possible, but I definitely think in terms of wanting to make sure the opportunity is there. I definitely wanted to give trans writers the opening to craft fairy tales starring trans teens, for example, but I don’t make it a requirement; I just cross my fingers and hope. But I read widely and love authors doing all sorts of things, so it’s not like i have to go hunt down marginalized authors to do this or that; if I’m just picking the authors I think will be best at something, many of them are going to happen to be marginalized authors. 

That said, I do give thought to what representation I think is specifically meaningful for different collections, for example wanting a number of trans authors in my Shakespeare anthology because crossing gender lines is so central to the original work. In this case, I definitely thought it would be interesting to have authors who might do non-Western spins on things, and I also really wanted the Indigenous storytelling tradition highlighted.

Q: How similar or different is the role of an editor of an anthology to that of the editor at the publisher publishing the anthology?

A: It’s pretty different! I work on the lineup with the publishing editor (Sarah), but I’m the one who reaches out to the authors, signs them up, negotiates with their agents, issues the contracts and payments, and does at least the first round of edits. Depending on the timeline of things, I might do multiple rounds with one or more authors before sending everything on to Sarah, so what she sees are already fairly polished drafts. Then she edits everything, sends it back to me, and I disseminate to each other and work through things with them until each story is final. 

Once that happens, Sarah and I work on the story order together, I put everything in one document, and send it over. I also at some point need to write the introduction and acknowledgments, collect everyone’s bios, write bios of the original authors, and, in the cases of His Hideous Heart and At Midnight, source original versions of the works that are in the public domain so they can be included in the volume. 

The final version for the publisher works much like when they handle a novel–they put it through production as a single volume, copy edit, lay it out and design it, etc. But each time it comes back to me, I have to deal with each author individually. That means that for copy edits, I get back one file, which I then send to all the authors, and then I get back fifteen different files, each of whose edits I have to transfer onto one master doc. Then this happens again with first pass pages, then proofreading queries… And of course, all the while, you have the regular Book stuff, like cover reveals and interviews and promoting when it’s available for review, etc. 

So, yeah! It’s a lot! I do not advise people get in lightly! And I haven’t even mentioned tax season yet…

Q: What can we expect from the fairy tale retellings in At Midnight?

A: Definitely largely dark themes like the originals, but the authors have played with them in really interesting ways. YA is the perfect venue for exploring the questionable-to-toxic parenting in so many fairy tales, and you’ll definitely see that in a number of the stories in a central and intentional way. The magic in At Midnight tends to be steeped in various cultures, which I think makes for a very cool update to the originals. Of course there’s a lot of queer romance, which is always an improvement. 

Q: And now onto the stories! Can you tell us a little about your story, “Say My Name”? Why did you want to retell “Rumplestiltskin”? (Did you choose to retell “Rumplestiltskin” because you like the original, or because you don’t like the original?)

A: I don’t have strong feelings about the original, per se, but I do like to play with stories that have questionable motivation. Really, though, the reason I chose it is because I’d once had a story idea I really loved for an anthology that didn’t sell, and because it was about a catfish, I immediately thought of reusing that element of it for a story in which someone was keeping part of their identity a mystery. My story is a little bonkers, and I personally think it’s hilarious, but readers are either gonna agree with me or say “WTF is this?” and there is no in between. 

Jo asked if any contributors wanted to answer any of these questions, so here’s a little more participation: 

Why do you think we’re so drawn to fairy tales and their retellings?

Anna-Marie McLemore: There’s something in fairy tales that speaks to our humanness, our best instincts, our worst impulses. They exist across cultural traditions for a reason. They talk to parts of us we often don’t know how to talk about.

Gita Trelease: I believe they express a truth we sense but don’t always acknowledge: that the inexplicable—which we sometimes call magic—exists in our everyday world. And they do it without fuss or explanation, which feels very true to me. A girl runs an errand in the woods and is greeted by a talking wolf. Another girl spins straw into gold. Buried bones sing. Keys bleed. Parents do reprehensible things. When we’re young, we take this strangeness for granted, only to forget it as we get older. But fairy tales whisper the reminder that our world is threaded with wonder and danger and things that don’t make sense…and only by recognizing this can we survive it.

What’s your favourite fairy tale? And your favourite author/collector(s) of fairy tales?

Gita Trelease: It’s impossible for me to choose, but the novel I’m working on now is in some ways a retelling of “The Singing, Springing Lark” so that’s the one I’ve been thinking about lately. It has a lot in common with “Beauty and the Beast” and includes the motif of seemingly useless gifts that magically save the day, which I just love. My favorite collectors are Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

Stacey Lee: When I was a girl, I loved Hans Christian Anderson’s The Little Mermaid. Though I’m glad Disney gave Ariel a better ending (and fun songs to sing), the original’s tragic ending definitely gave me more feels!

What are some of your favourite fairy tale retellings?

Anna-Marie McLemore: Ash by Malinda Lo, Cinderella is Dead by Kalynn Bayron, Forest of a Thousand Lanterns by Julie C Dao

Gita Trelease: There are so many, but I adore Angela Carter’s retellings in The Bloody Chamber, Naomi Novik’s Spinning Silver, and Mary Zimmerman’s play, “The Secret in the Wings.”

Anything else you would like to add? 

Gita Trelease: I used to teach a class on fairy tales and every semester my students would fall in love with the Grimms’ lesser-known tales, the weird ones they’d never heard of—I highly recommend checking them out.

***

A dazzling collection of retold and original fairy tales from fifteen acclaimed and bestselling YA writers, including Tracey Deonn and Melissa Albert

Fairy tales have been spun for thousands of years and remain among our most treasured stories. Weaving fresh tales with unexpected reimaginings, At Midnight brings together a diverse group of celebrated YA writers to breathe new life into a storied tradition. You’ll discover…

Dahlia Adler, “Rumplestiltskin”
Tracy Deonn, “The Nightingale”
H.E. Edgmon, “Snow White”
Hafsah Faizal, “Little Red Riding Hood”
Stacey Lee, “The Little Matchstick Girl”
Roselle Lim, “Hansel and Gretel”
Darcie Little Badger, “Puss in Boots”
Malinda Lo, “Frau Trude”
Alex London, “Cinderella”
Anna-Marie McLemore, “The Nutcracker”
Rebecca Podos, “The Robber Bridegroom”
Rory Power, “Sleeping Beauty”
Meredith Russo, “The Little Mermaid”
Gita Trelease, “Fitcher’s Bird”
and an all-new fairy tale by Melissa Albert

Buy it: Foyles | Waterstones | Amazon UK | Book Depository

Inside an Anthology: At Midnight ed. by Dahlia Adler

Today on the site, we’re looking inside an anthology that’s edited by none other than yours truly! At Midnight is a collection of reimagined YA fairy tales (with the original source material in the back) authored by some of the category’s best and queerest, and it released today from Flatiron Books! Check out more about the volume and some of the queer stories within it below: 

At Midnight: 15 Beloved Fairytales Reimagined ed. by Dahlia Adler (22nd)

Fairy tales have been spun for thousands of years and remain among our most treasured stories. Weaving fresh tales with unexpected reimaginings, At Midnight brings together a diverse group of acclaimed YA writers to breathe new life into a storied tradition.

Fifteen celebrated authors reclaim classic fairy tales for a new generation:

Dahlia Adler, “Rumplestiltskin”
Tracy Deonn, “The Nightingale”
H.E. Edgmon, “Snow White”
Hafsah Faizal, “Little Red Riding Hood”
Stacey Lee, “The Little Matchstick Girl”
Roselle Lim, “Hansel and Gretel”
Darcie Little Badger, “Puss in Boots”
Malinda Lo, “Frau Trude”
Alex London, “Cinderella”
Anna-Marie McLemore, “The Nutcracker”
Rebecca Podos, “The Robber Bridegroom”
Rory Power, “Sleeping Beauty”
Meredith Russo, “The Little Mermaid”
Gita Trelease, “Fitcher’s Bird”
and an all-new fairy tale by Melissa Albert

Once upon a time . . .

Buy it: Amazon | Bookshop | IndieBound

“Sugarplum” by Anna-Marie McLemore

Sugarplums. Glittering snow. Really snappy uniforms. Fabulous shoes used as weapons. It’s not like I had to make a huge leap (grand jeté?) to make The Nutcracker gay. But while my story got real gay, it also got real about what it means to have to perform for the audiences in our lives. A Latina dancer feels wound up like a music box ballerina. A soft butch girl with a chip on her shoulder and a spectacular curling throw can’t say what she really wants to say about the Christmas party going on downstairs. Two queer girls who always have the perfect insult for each other are quiet for once, leaving space for the conversations they’ve never had. And cake. Because sometimes enemies to lovers starts with cake.

“Say My Name” by Dahlia Adler

What if Rumpelstiltskin were a cruel Sapphic coding genius in love with her best friend? That’s the heart of “Say My Name,” which is actually a semi-repurposing of an idea I had for a different anthology to which I was asked to contribute but unfortunately didn’t sell. My main character in that story was a catfish who kept the game going a little too long when she got feelings, and naturally when I think catfish I think of the ultimate identity-hider of yore! And so Rumpelstiltskin became [redacted], and this became the story of a girl who would do anything to impress the girl she loves, even if it kind of turns her into a monster.

“HEA” by Alex London

HEA is a modern m|m reimagining of Cinderella, turned on its head. Asher (as in Aschenputtel–the little ash girl of the Grimm tale) is a teen social media star, who lives in service to his brand. Constant balls and parties and opportunities to create content. He longs for one night not to be a brand, but just to be a boy. So he disguises himself in sweatpants, ditches the Met Gala, and hides out at a coffee shop. Of course, it’s there that he meets his prince, the barista, and has to flee, back to his fabulous life and the endless churn of content. But he’s left something behind, more than his heart, and his prince is going to track him down…

“Mother’s Mirror” by H.E. Edgmon

When Dahlia asked me to join a fairytale retelling anthology, it was a no-brainer. I’ve been compelled by fairytales since my earliest days—I currently own three copies of the exact same Grimm Brothers collection, with different covers. My only question was which fairytale to make my own. And when I remembered that the original Snow White featured the protagonist’s own mother, not an evil step-mother, as the villain, I had my answer.

The often-fraught nature of mother/daughter relationships is one many of us are already familiar with. But what happens when the eldest daughter, the one expected to twist herself until she becomes a reflection of the mother, comes out as trans, instead? That’s the story I explore in “Mother’s Mirror.” The contemporary retelling features a narcissistic single mom as the evil queen, a main character who’s more huntsman than Snow, and the choice to cut out one’s own heart rather than face the slow poison of living a lie.

“A Flame So Bright” by Malinda Lo

I first encountered the little-known story of “Frau Trude” in an academic book called Transgressive Tales: Queering the Grimms, which includes an essay by Kay Turner titled “Playing with Fire: Transgression as Truth in Grimms’ ‘Frau Trude.” I was inspired by Turner’s queer reading of the very short tale of “Frau Trude,” and I loved the metaphorical possibilities of fire, especially because it has been connected closely with witchcraft. I lived in Salem, MA, for about a year and a half, and I’ve been fascinated by beliefs about witches since I was very young, so retelling “Frau Trude” gave me the opportunity to over-research witchcraft in colonial America and bring some local Salem-inspired flair to my story. I also loved this chance to return to what I call “fairy tale voice,” since I haven’t written fantasy in quite a while.