Women in Horror Month
March is Women in Horror Month, and we’re celebrating with a digital collection of classic and new stories from female horror, dark fantasy, and science fiction writers. Settle in, grab a cup of tea, and get ready for a smorgasbord of horror goodness.
Interviews by Women in Horror
An Interview with Ellen Datlow
Weird Little Worlds Press would like to congratulate Ellen Datlow on her most recent Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in an Anthology- Screams from the Dark: 29 Tales of Monsters and the Monstrous (Tor Nightfire)! Another well-deserved award to a great mind in horror. We would like to celebrate Ellen and her wonderful talents by posting a recent interview Willow Dawn Becker, CEO of Weird Little Worlds recently had the honor of conducting with Ellen. We hope you enjoy her delightful...
Mothers of the Roundtable Author Spotlight: Mercedes M. Yardley
R. Leigh Hennig gathered many of the amazing authors from Mother: Tales of Love and Terror for a council at the roundtable about writing, mothers, and horror. Join us as we pop in for a brief spotlight on how the stories of Mother, and their makers, worked their horrible magic to create this book. Author Spotlight: Mercedes M. Yardley, author of “Fracture” Q: What inspired your story? A: A good mother wants to protect her child, but that isn’t always possible. I was inspired by...
Mothers of the Roundtable Author Spotlight: Donyae Coles
R. Leigh Hennig gathered many of the amazing authors from Mother: Tales of Love and Terror for a council at the roundtable about writing, mothers, and horror. Join us as we pop in for a brief spotlight on how the stories of Mother, and their makers, worked their horrible magic to create this book. Author Spotlight: Donyae Coles, author of “Puererium” Q: What inspired your story? A: Being a mother who has a mother. I knew that I wanted to explore that through the lens of story....
New Fiction by Women in Horror
The Jester, By Ali Seay
She hides herself in the stacks and then she screams for me. I came back from my newly nested home in the warm hills of Los Angeles to care for this woman, and she hides in her doom piles and shrieks for me. “Mother! I can’t help you if you hide from me,” I call. I try my best to keep my voice strong but soft. Accepting. All the things the social worker said when I returned… six months ago? Eight? I’ve lost track of time. Nice neighbors, a job at a small local grocery store, paperbacks from...
Open Hem by Sarah Sexton
Some scars should never be re-opened. You might let the spiders out.
I am a Coffin by Willow Dawn Becker
I know they need a mother still.
To splash with them in Stygian waves.
To teach them the song of fallen sparrows.
To snuggle them in earth-warmed graves.
Classic Fiction by Women in Horror
12 Days of Weird Christmas Presents: The Ghost of the Blue Chamber by Jerome K. Jerome
THE GHOST OF THE BLUE CHAMBER (My Uncle's Story) "I don't want to make you fellows nervous," began my uncle in a peculiarly impressive, not to say blood-curdling, tone of voice, "and if you would rather that I did not mention it, I won't; but, as a matter of fact, this very house, in which we are now sitting, is haunted." "You don't say that!" exclaimed Mr. Coombes. "What's the use of your saying I don't say it when I have just said it?" retorted my uncle somewhat pettishly. "You do talk so...
12 Days of Weird Christmas Presents: A Kidnapped Santa by Frank L. Baum
Santa Claus lives in the Laughing Valley, where stands the big, rambling castle in which his toys are manufactured. His workmen, selected from the ryls, knooks, pixies and fairies, live with him, and every one is as busy as can be from one year's end to another. It is called the Laughing Valley because everything there is happy and gay. The brook chuckles to itself as it leaps rollicking between its green banks; the wind whistles merrily in the trees; the sunbeams dance lightly over the soft...
12 Days of Weird Christmas Presents: Day 6 Thirteen at Table by Lord Dunsany
In front of a spacious fireplace of the old kind, when the logs were well alight, and men with pipes and glasses were gathered before it in great easeful chairs, and the wild weather outside and the comfort that was within, and the season of the year—for it was Christmas—and the hour of the night, all called for the weird or uncanny, then out spoke the ex-master of foxhounds and told this tale. I once had an odd experience too. It was when I had the Bromley and Sydenham, the year I gave them...