Women in Horror

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Forty years ago, Craven introduced the world to Freddy Krueger with the original A Nightmare on Elm Street. You probably know the gist of it, whether you’ve seen it or not. Freddy Krueger (played by now-horror legend Robert Englund)…
Callie’s face is bright pink with baby cheeks and cake. Aunt Trina leans down to leave a sloppy kiss on the top of her head as she carries two glasses of wine, one white and one red. They are both for her because she likes to switch back and forth between the flavors…
L. Marie Wood is a Golden Stake Award- and two-time Bookfest Award-winning, Ignyte Award and two-time Bram Stoker Award® nominated author.  She is also a MICO Award-winning screenwriter, a Rhysling nominated poet, and accomplished essayist. She is also the Vice President of the Horror Writers Association, founder of the Speculative Fiction Academy, an English/Creative Writing professor, and a horror scholar…
I’m going back. The car bounces and skids on the long, forgotten road. The dim light from the radio creeps over the worn gray seats of my worn gray car. Static crackles and spits from the speakers, the noise mimicking the constant din in my head, like a station in my mind that keeps searching for what’s missing. But I know what’s missing…
At seventy-seven, Hank Arthurs was Rivers Corp’s oldest retiree, a feat for any employee, never mind a manual labourer. To mark his years of service, the company threw a retirement party. There was cake, fizz, and a card signed by his colleagues—human and automated alike…
William Burelle knew death was only moments away. The flu had settled into his lungs, his heart. He barely had enough strength to reach across the bed for his wife’s hand, seeking the comfort of her warmth. Meredith’s stiff fingers did not respond…
The family tree of literature, especially speculative fiction, is a vast and many-branched one. With this interview series, I hope to speak with some of the top names—both established and upcoming—in the speculative fiction genres about the authors who have made an impact on them, whether as readers, writers, or both…
Child-sized footprints snaked through the house from the backdoor. Red clay looked far too much like blood in certain lighting. Tabitha followed the footprints…
I traded my last coffee for a coffee. How ironic. My finger jabbed at the ordering machine. The Langbase implanted in my brain popped up in front of my eyes, and I watched as the word disappeared. A heavy breath escaped my lips. I would have to trade my teas next…
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