Added Three more Authors to our upcoming dark anthology, Superstition, which is now 74% full.

We added three more stories to Superstition, bringing our anthology, which I’m anticipating will be about 100,000 words, to nearly three-quarters full now. Occasum (thank you!) made the graphic below, which I promptly screwed up, then fixed before adding it to this post where all of our Superstition author graphics are located thus far.

I accepted these stories a while ago, but things have been moving slowly because I managed to pick up a nasty strain of Covid and have been flat on my back for some days. There was some talk of hospitalization. Instead, the doctor offered me some antiviral drugs, which I eagerly accepted. Those seem to have done the trick and within about 36 hours I have enough (off and on) energy to be able to take care of some things so long as I don’t push it too much.

Anyway, enough of all that.

I particularly like this little trio of stories. “Don’t Look Back” by Sarah Sigfried is a southern Appalachian story about the wisdom of being prepared and not looking back at things you don’t want (or perhaps shouldn’t) see. There is a pretty long tradition of the wisdom in not looking back–Lot’s wife and Orpheus immediately come to mind–and I’m pleased to add Sarah’s fun tale to this longstanding tradition.

“The Art of Shui Feng” by Chris Hewitt tells the story of a man who learns and comes to term with a rather strange power that he stumbles upon during a breakup with his girlfriend. I found that the story darkly funny and I also liked Hewitt’s tale enough that I violated my rule of “no black cats” for the anthology. How could I object, after all, to the inclusion of the impish “Nothing” the cat?

Finally, Henry Herz’s “Guardians of the Grünwald” reads like a fractured, German fairy tale and tells the story of murderous huntsmen, a pillaged forest, and some unconventional guardians. Henry mentioned “Little Red Riding Hood” when he introduced me to his story, and I can see the parallels and the differences too, which I enjoyed in equal measure.

I’ll have more story announcements in the next few days and I hope to fill the anthology very soon and begin editing. Until then I hope everyone who reads this is well.

Juleigh Howard-Hobson’s poem, “When I Start Leaving These By The Tree That Grows In Front of Your House, You Will Wish You Never Met Me” will appear in the horror anthology, Superstition this fall.

Superstition—coming Fall, 2022.

We have cast the stones, made sure the portal horseshoe is nailed with the luck pointing up, mumbled fervent prayers, and made oblations to our gods and patrons of fortune for the success of our upcoming anthology, Superstition. I’m happy to say that our initial rituals have met with success: Don and I have accepted Juleigh Howard-Hobson’s dark poem (or “sonnet spell”), “When I Start Leaving These By The Tree That Grows In Front Of Your House, You Will Wish You Never Met Me.”

I enjoy Juleigh’s longer titles, which she uses for some of her poems. They seem like more than just an introduction but an integrated part of the body of the poem itself. Besides being interesting to me for its own sake, this also allows her to deviate from each line containing ten syllables as she does with this offering.

Juleigh is best known as a poet and her work has appeared in many publications including The Deadlands, Dreams & Nightmares, Eye to the Telescope, Polu Texni, 34 Orchard, Midnight Echo, Noir Nation, and of course The Lost Librarian’s Grave to name just a few. Her latest collection of “sonnet spells” is titled Curses, Black Spells and Hexes and published by Alien Buddha Press.