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
Mothers of the Roundtable Author Spotlight: Victoria Nations
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: Victoria Nations, author of “Cleaning Out Her House, As If She’ll Ever Be Gone” Q: What inspired your story? A: My poem was inspired by a list I made in my phone as I...
Mothers of the Roundtable Author Spotlight: Frances Lu-Pai Ippolito
Family secrets and palace intrigue appear often in my stories. For this one, I’ve thought a lot about what happens next to Mother and the children. I’m sure there’s more in that world to explore and write.
Mothers of the Roundtable Author Spotlight: Nick Bouchard
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: Nick Bouchard, author of “Stone’s Blood” Q: What inspired your story? A: Stone’s Blood wasn’t so much inspired as it was inspiration. It arrived almost fully formed,...
New Fiction by Women in Horror
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Classic Fiction by Women in Horror
Scoured Silk by Marjorie Bowen
As she looked she was conscious of such a chill of horror and dismay as nearly caused her to shriek aloud. The room seemed to her to be full of an atmosphere of terror and evil beyond expression. Never had such a thing happened to her before; her visit to the tomb in the afternoon had been as nothing to this. She moved away, barely able to disguise an open panic. As she turned, she half-stumbled against a chair, caught at it, and noticed, hanging over the back, a skirt of peach-colored silk. Elisa, not being mistress of herself, caught at this garment.
The Mass for the Dead by E. Nesbit
“I must tell some one. If I am mad, don’t lock me up. Take care of me, won’t you?”
Would I not?
“Understand,” she went on, “it was not a dream. I was wide awake, thinking of you. The Waits had not long gone, and I—I was looking at your likeness. I was not asleep.”
I shivered as I held her fast.
Goblin Market by Christina Rosetti
She gorged on bitterness without a name:
Ah! fool, to choose such part
Of soul-consuming care!
Sense fail’d in the mortal strife:
Like the watch-tower of a town
Which an earthquake shatters down,
Like a lightning-stricken mast,
Like a wind-uprooted tree
Spun about,
Like a foam-topp’d waterspout
Cast down headlong in the sea,
She fell at last;
Pleasure past and anguish past,
Is it death or is it life?