“Sea, Swallow Me” through a Lovecraftian lens.

My black and queer fantasy story “Sea, Swallow Me” is given the Lovecraft Reread treatment by the critic/authors Ruthanna Emrys and Anne M. Pillsworth. Thanks to them and Tor.com for putting new eyes on this piece.

The title of the piece comes from one of my favorite Cocteau Twins piece, and I always associate their heavenly music with the story, rather than Lovecraft (who probably wouldn’t be a fan of the homoerotic Negritude of the piece).

Anyway, check out An Ecstasy of Arrows: Craig Laurance Gidney’s “Sea, Swallow Me.”

Podcast Story: The Magus Club

The Weird Tales Podcast did an audio version of my story The Magus Club in honor of Pride. This story first appeared in the anthology Madder Love: Queer Men and the Precincts of Surrealism (edited by Peter Dubé). This story is inspired by the playwright Joe Orton’s novel Head to Toe and the music of Coil.

Also, there’s a link to support the Black Visions Collective –a Minnesota based Black activist organization.

Links: Broken Eye Books Kickstarter + Baffling Magazine Patreon

Whether Change: The Revolution Will Be Weird

From the creators of Tomorrow’s Cthulhu, Ride the Star Wind, and Nowhereville, here comes the next anthology! Broken Eye Books is publishing original stories of the revolution.

Whether Change: The Revolution Will Be Weird tackles the theme of change, of revolution, with tales of resilience and growth, defiance and upheaval. These are celebrations and warnings of the body, mind, and spirit. These are tales of our changing times ahead.

These acclaimed authors are mixing the weird with fantasy and sci-fi in modern and near-future tales with superpowered nationalists, CRISPR babies, alien communists, bloodsucking buildings, anarchist kids, resurrection in the post-apocalypse, and so much more. 

If you’re already familiar with our books, then you know how much we love anthologies, and this will be our ninth. Help us launch Whether Change today. Then lay back and let us light a fire in your belly.

We at Broken Eye Books dream of a diverse, vibrant future. We believe Black lives matter and so do Black futures. We believe love is love, trans rights are human rights, feminism is for everyone, no human is illegal, and science is real. And we like our books the same way.

Note: I will have a story in this!

Baffling Magazine

Craig L. Gidney and dave ring are pleased to announce the imminent launch of our speculative flash publication Baffling Magazine.  Baffling will pay pro rates for queer stories, publishing one per month at first, and growing in accordance to this Patreon.  The stories published on the Patreon will be available at bafflingmag.com for the public in quarterly issues.

Note: We have an amazing lineup for the first issues!

https://www.patreon.com/neonhemlock/



Mnemomics: The Elan of Stella Constance.

Dionne Warwick’s classic songs—”Walk on By,” “I Say a Little Prayer,” “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” — always reminds me of my aunt Connie. She was my mother’s older sister and the black sheep of that family. She kind of looked like Warwick, with a similar skin tone and fashion sense. Connie wore her hair in a Jheri-curl, a style that really worked for her facial features. She was a tall woman, maybe 5’9 or so. At any rate, she towered over my mother, who was 5’1. She moved in with our family when I was ten or eleven. Previously, she’d lived in Philadelphia, where most of my mother’s family settled after living in the Carolinas.

Her first name was Stella but she always went by Connie. When she was sixteen, she got “in the family way” and was sent up North to avoid small town scandal. Her child was put up for adoption, but I believe that she never returned to the South. She married three times. I never met her husbands, but according to my mother, at least one of them was physically abusive. She moved in with us in DC when one of her marriages ended. She began working for my father as the receptionist for his dental practice, and lived in the basement room of our house.

Connie had a real zest for life. I remember my mother—who was very prim and proper—and her would spend evenings drinking beer and laughing about the Old Days. I learned that Connie followed the horoscope like a Wall Street trader follows the NASDAQ. She told raunchy and vulgar jokes to me and my brothers. She loved blaxploitation movies, Chablis, cigarettes and yes, Dionne Warwick.