Publisher, Rural Fiction Magazine; publisher, The Chamber Magazine; founder, the Farmington Writers Circle. I have written short stories and poetry for many years. In my careers as a Naval officer and in the federal government, I have written thousands of documents of many types. I am currently working on a second edition for my poetry collection and a few novels.
In this article from mentalfloss.com Stacy Conradt tells us about ten renown figures from literature and history who had brief, quirky flings with the horror genre. Some of these you would probably never suspect of even hearing about the horror genre. One aspect that may be of interest to writers of horror is the minimal experience each author had with horror before dreaming up the concept for his/her foray into the genre.
Follow the link above to the David J. Sharp article from Horrorunderground.org.
Romulus, MI (October 20, 2015) – Michigan-based Synapse Films, one of the most acclaimed and longest-lasting independent DVD and Blu-ray labels in the home video industry, is pleased to announce their new association with the innovative NYC-based streaming service VHX.TV, to now bring a selection of some of Synapse’s most popular films to the service for both streaming and download. [From the article].
(Hollywood, CA) – November 2nd, 2015 – Multi award-winning short film, Night of the Slasher, written and directed by , competes for Best Narrative Short at two Oscar® qualifying festivals; the St. Louis International Film Festival in Missouri, USA and the Foyle Film Festival in Ireland. If it wins, it becomes eligible for an Oscar® nomination.
Henry Selick (Director of Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline) saw the film at the Telluride Horror Show and said, “I really loved ‘Night of the Slasher’! It’s smart, clever, and funny!”
I am looking for holiday-themed flash horror for the holiday season. If you have a work of horror or a horror-related article suitable for publication on a specific holiday (whether it be Veterans’ Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, President’s Day, Boxing Day, Australia Day, or any other officially recognized holiday) please feel free to submit it. Please be sure to adhere to my Submissions Guidelines.
Here’s something for comics aficionados: Dark Horse Comics is combining the tales of Prometheus, Alien, and Predator for what promises to be a mind-boggling thrill-ride. Follow the link above to Matt Molgaard’s rousing review of the project at Horror Novel Reviews.
After seeing this type of story published by Dark Horse, one has to wonder why they are still called “comics”.
If you have a more suitable name for this type of publication, especially in regards to the horror genre, please note it in a comment below.
Walking down the hall, Sarah shivered at the chill of winter as it brushed over her delicate skin like the bristles of a wet paintbrush. Looking ahead, she saw the darkness of the living room: a large table with six chairs set around it, with a hanging light.
She smirked; the home was supposedly haunted, at least that’s what the ad had told her. The real estate agent had been wary when she brought it up, only bringing it fully into light when Jessica revealed that it was a selling point. The papers had been signed, and by the beginning of the month she had her new loft overlooking the Riverwalk, which was brilliantly colored due to the holiday season, strung up lights flickering with the colors of the rainbow. Even now with her shades covering the window Sarah could see the flickering lights, their dim glow coming through the wooden slates to merrily dance in her darkened den.
Walking into the kitchen, she stepped on something thick and leathery, causing her to gasp. Flicking on the light, she looked down to see her wallet on the ground. Bending down to scoop it up, she checked it over to make sure nothing was missing and looked for her purse.
“This never leaves my purse unless I’m buying something…” Sarah muttered to herself, walking out of the kitchen and back into the den, only gasp in surprise.
Stacked up on the table, the high backed ends holding up the light fixture, the chairs had moved from their spots on the floor to the top of the large table. She saw her purse sitting in the center of the table.
“Hello?” She called out to her small loft, looking around wildly. She didn’t dare dream that this could be an actual haunting; such a thing would prove too good to be true! Looking around wildly, she tried her best to remain calm.
That is until she heard the giggles of a little girl.
Her heart beating a mile a minute, she moved forward into the hall leading to her bedroom. It was dark, and the light switch was on the other side of the hall… but in this dim lighting, she could just make out the shadowy form of someone small, with long unruly hair. Another giggle escaped from the entities direction, sending shivers down Sarah’s spine.
“Hello?” She said, hoping to keep the spirit calm. “Are you lost?”
The entity tilted its head to the side, a glint in the dim lighting reflecting from its dark eyes, which seemed to be analyzing Sarah, judging her. The entity slowly turned and walked into the total darkness of the bedroom, singing a wordless song softly.
First contact! Sarah thought frantically, standing still as the spirit moved deeper into the bedroom. It’s important to let them know you’re here to help them, not to do anything bad.
“Little girl? I’m coming in the bedroom… don’t be afraid, okay? I just want to talk,” Sarah called out, padding softly into her bedroom, shivering as a cold wind blew in from her balcony. The two doors that led to her view over the San Antonio River had been opened, the curtain billowing lazily. In the flickering glow from the holiday lights, Sarah could just make out the figure of the little girl standing in the shadows near the closet.
“Are you afraid?” The little girl asked her voice cold and detached, though still curious.
“No, of course not. I would never be afraid of you… what’s your name?” Sarah said, walking further into the room, taking each step slowly so as not to startle the ghost-child.
“Erin. I live here.” The child replied in a sing song manner, her eyes glinting happily in the darkness.
“Well I live here too. Maybe we can be friends?” Sarah said, walking around the bed until she was standing in front of the opened balcony, a few feet away from the girl.
The girl shook her head. “He said I can’t have friends. You need to leave before he gets to you.”
“Before who gets to me?” Sarah asked before being slammed from the side, her body flying out and landing on the balcony, her left side bruised from the sudden impact.
“Him.” The girls voice faded as a hunchbacked figure, arms dragging along the floor, came into sight. In his hands was a strand of Christmas lights, looped around like a lasso.
“No. I just want to be your friend!” Sarah cried.
“Friend…” The spirit groaned, waving a misshapen arm at Sarah, knocking her out onto the balcony. The cold air nipped at her flesh as the specter advanced, stooping in the doorway.
“Yes, friend. I want to help you, I want to understand you!” Sarah pleaded, doing her best to stand, leaning on the railing.
“Friend…” the ghost repeated, the lasso of Christmas lights lashing out and wrapping around Sarah’s hand before snaking up her wrist and forearm. “Friends play games.”
“Y-yes, friends play games! So let’s go inside and play a game!” Sarah said, growing more nervous by the second as her arm became numb wherever the strand of lights touched.
“Already playing a game,” the ghost replied, the strand of light slowly slithering from its hand to begin wrapping around Sarah’s neck.
She screamed, hoping someone would hear here from the streets below. The strand of lights, now flickering on, was wrapped tightly around her arm and neck.
Then they began to constrict.
Gasping for air, Sarah stumbled back as another wave of force slammed into her, pushing her over the edge of her balcony, leaving her dangling some ten feet above the sidewalk.
As she inhaled to scream, the cords constricted even tighter, choking her on her own fluids as she dangled lifelessly. Just as she felt the pressure of her lungs give way, Sarah gazed out over the Riverwalk at the people walking to and fro, some stopping to stare, screaming for an ambulance.
Check out these six books on events forming the basis for some well-known fictional horror. Good recommendations for reading over the holidays, particularly Halloween.
Check out this spooky, foreboding horror vignette from horroraddicts.net. It may give you the shivers the next time you drive past the beach. It is a good, clear narrative that draws you into the moment as if you were standing on the side watching the events unfold. Here are the author’s impressive credentials (quoted from the blog):
Chris Ringler was raised in Linden, Michigan, a where he lived and attended school. He fell in love with writing as a teenager when he started writing short stories and began working on fanzines with friends. In 1999 BACK FROM NOTHING, a short story collection was published by University Editions. Since that time Chris has been published in BARE BONE and CTHULHU SEX MAGAZINE, received Honorable Mention in THE YEAR’S BEST FANTASY AND HORROR twice, was voted Best in Blood on HORRORADDICTS.COM, and has been working on his writing and art.
Chris has written and published nine books which range from horror and dark fiction to fairy tales.
Chris is a writer, artist, weirdo, and was the creator of many events in the Flint area such as the Flint Horror Convention.
Forgive me for loving you, I didn’t mean to. It was your smile that made my heart skip a beat, and your eyes that made my back shiver. I held you in my arms, and you warmed my soul. I talked to you, and my mindset broadened. You entered my dreams, and freed me from the nightmares. Your touch made me smile, and your kiss froze time. You gave me hope, and I could give you nothing. I am sorry.Those were the words on the yellow note.
I observed the attached box curiously, it was small and plain. Suddenly, it trembled, once. I dropped it, I ran away. Blood dripped off of it. Now, it was constantly moving; beating. I approached it again, cowardly. I hadn’t heard from him in days; last time I saw him, I told him I couldn’t be with him. I still loved him, but I needed time to figure out myself. The box stood still. I took a few hesitant steps towards it. I had abandoned everything for him; then I abandoned him. The box trembled again, but only once. I opened it. I burst out in muffled tears. I was looking at his broken heart, and it was all my doing.
George Gad Economou, born in 1990 in Athens, Greece, is currently a Master’s student at Aarhus University, working on his thesis on social epistemology. His first novel, “The Elixir of Youth” was published in 2010 by Lefki Selida Publications, whilst his English short fiction has appeared in various horror magazines, such as Black Petals and Blood Moon Rising Magazine.
One of today’s most promising authors, Paul Tremblay offers up a few killer movie selections that you may have been unfortunate enough to miss. Just the same, these are fine picks for the Halloween season!
Why eight? Well, as Paul puts it, there’s only so many viewing hours before Halloween is here, after all!
Lake Mungo: Faux documentary about a family dealing with the drowning death of a teenage girl. Haunting, expansive and claustrophobic at the same time. A movie about grief, and creepy as hell.
Sauna: A powerful movie from Finland that takes place during the Sweeden/Russo war hundreds of years ago. A truly disturbing film about revenge, the price of violence, and regret. Great performances from the two leads as well.
May: Quirky character piece that’s funny, sad, and emotionally authentic, and totally nuts and icky. You will be moved by this movie.
Today I received word that my flash suspense/crime drama/horror/thriller story “Murder by Plastic” will be re-printed on Fiction on the Web on November 17. Set in the modern day, “Murder by Plastic” is story about what happens when someone pisses off the wrong gangster.
Many thanks to Charlie Fish and his crew at Fiction on the Web for re-printing another of my personal favorites.
“Murder by Plastic” was first printed by Everyday Fiction on March 24, 2013.
Working on a play in Hasting’s Hardback Café, late evening, October 16, 2015.
Since I decided to publish submitted flash fiction on this website, I have had to explore its various subtypes, of which there seem to be an increasing number with definitions that often vary from editor to editor. Here is what I have discovered so far:
Flash fiction: generally accepted to be any prose work of 1,000 words or less. Some alternate terms include micro fiction, micro narrative, micro-story, postcard fiction, short short, short short story, and sudden fiction, although some editors define specific limits for these as well. In China, the genre is sometimes called a “smoke long”, because it should be finished before the reader can finish smoking a cigarette. The Wikipedia article on flash fiction notes that:
“Unlike a vignette, flash fiction often contains the classic story elements: protagonist, conflict, obstacles or complications, and resolution. However, unlike a traditional short story, the limited word length often forces some of these elements to remain unwritten – that is, hinted at or implied in the written storyline. Different readers thus may have different interpretations.”
Micro fiction: Can refer to works of 1,000 words or less or even of works 300 words or less or somewhere in between.
Nano fiction: 300 words or less. See http://www.nanofiction.org (which takes submissions of 300 words or less) for excellent examples and discussions of the genre. Some put it at 55 words or less.
Drabbles: 100 words or less. See The Drabble on WordPress for a discussion and examples.
Twitterature: Sized to fit in a Twitter “tweet” of 140 characters or less. Some equate this to about 23 words.
Now here is an interesting bit of trivia from the Wikipedia article on flash fiction that seems written for horror aficionados:
“Also notable are the 62 “short-shorts” which comprise Severance, the thematic collection by Robert Olen Butler in which each story describes the remaining 90 seconds of conscious awareness within human heads which have been decapitated.[12]“
I will probably add these and any others I find to my lexicon of horror.
I would be interested in knowing if you encounter other subcategories not listed here.
Phil Slattery, Writer, Publisher 