Author: Lauren McMenemy

Greetings, children of the dark. Boy, do I feel better for not lagging so behind on our submissions pile! Most of last year I was running ragged, always behind, always guilty, always apologising… Last week, we published the last of our January window stories and are mid-way through reading and getting back to you all on the April window stories. We’re back to operating in the timeframe we’re meant to be in! My heart rate has slowed every so slightly…

That said, I’m noticing a few things in the short stories we’re reading right now: First and foremost, too many seem to have had no one else read them yet. I’m really proud that TWF provides so many writers with their first publishing credit, and that as free fiction it’s super accessible, but that doesn’t mean the writer can submit any old thing. We’re not only looking for whether a story adheres to our general theme of dark speculative fiction; we also need it to be a solid and coherent narrative, told in a format that makes sense to the story, and that’s had at least a pass for spelling and grammar. Please, please, do your editors a favour before you submit a story somewhere, whether it’s to us or any other outlet: get someone else to read it for you. Get some feedback. Then check the submission guidelines and make sure you fit what they’re looking for, not just in terms of theme but also how you’ve laid out the story, the file format (we really, really hate getting PDFs, people!), and just basic things like this. Too often lately it feels like people have chucked a brain dump into the submission form. I would love to publish your work, but you have to help us help you.

Before this turns into yet another editor ranting about things no one else really cares about, let’s get to this week’s menu of short, dark, speculative fiction. Our main course comes from Rory Kane, and shows that true love knows no bounds – not even the apocalypse. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Tatiana Samokhina’s nighttime visitor,
• Christina Nordlander’s annoying buzzing, and
• Geoff Holder’s space nightmare.

Over to you, Stuart

Greetings, children of the dark. The team has been working hard to get through various backlogs at TWF Towers, and we are getting there slowly. Many residents chipped in to get the (very) overdue anthology proofread and ready to go, and I believe the boss man is doing some final touches to that now alongside some various tech design updates for the website and newsletter. Busy guy, as always! Elsewhere, we’re up to date on drabble submissions—and as usual, I’m calling for more more MOAR. We publish three of those a week, so always have a need. 

However, a gentle reminder that we’re looking for the dark and speculative. That means the ol’ gorefest horror and true crime is unlikely to cut it with us anymore. Want to write about a stalker? Make them non-human and it’ll fit better. 

Take a cue from this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. Our main course comes from the mind of Jim Larsen, and I have to warn you that there’s some images in here that might not be suitable for all. Scroll down to the drabbles if you might be triggered by suicide, dead bodies, and child grief. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Catherine Berry’s foggy dilemma,
• Andrea Tillmann’s unending hunger, and
• Alper Ghuchlu’s final rejection.

Over to you, Stuart

Greetings, children of the dark. As this goes to digital print, I’ll be somewhere along the Amalfi Coast having an extended weekend with my mum, who’s visiting Europe from the land Down Under. And so we are short and sweet with the intro this week, just looking at a few reminders:

• We are now closed to short story submissions, and will next crank open that window at the beginning of July. Anything submitted while we’re closed will be returned unread.
• We are, though, always looking for your dark and spooky drabbles! Get those teeny terrors of exactly 100 words over to us, please.
• We’re also always open to Unholy Trinities (3 connected drabbles) and Serials (fiction of up to 15,000 words that can be serialised over several weeks, just like Dickens used to do).
• The Summer Special is fast looming, so get those thinking caps on for your summer horrors – campsite terrors, blooming folk horror, wild swimming encounters, and all that fun stuff. 

For now, let’s head over to this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. Our main course is a quick bite from the nightmares of Maya Dodsworth. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Steven Patchett’s local tourism,
• Autumn Bettinger’s Lovecraftian fable, and
• Weird Wilkins’s final moments.

Quick reminder: the next edition of my Writing the Occult online event series is fast approaching. We’ll be talking relics on 10 May, which is next weekend! It’s focused on all those cursed things dug up from the ground, found under the water, buried deep in the hope they would never again see the light of day. We’ll be chatting about the weird things we do with human remains, about Egyptology, about archaeology and shipwrecks and museums and more. There will even be a workshop with acclaimed horror writer Ally Wilkes, who will lead us through an adventure in cursed objects. You know you want to join us, right? Head over here for details and tickets. 

For now, it’s over to the boss man.

Greetings, children of the dark. I, like I’m sure a lot of you did, saw Sinners last week. My word, what a glorious piece of cinema that is. I’ve got a piece in the summer issue of the BFS Journal all about how we’re not meant to be in an uptick of vampire stories, but if Sinners is anything to go by then… oh my, I am going to be a very happy cinema-goer in the coming months! I bloody love a vampire, as I’m sure regular readers will know. I’m not exactly quiet about it. 

Have you got a vampire story hanging around, inspired by the cinematic resurgence of the dark ones? Well, a quick reminder: we are officially closed to short story submissions until our next window opens in July. Between then and now, the residents of TWF Towers will be hunkered down reviewing the almost-60 submissions we received for the 12 available spots. Please be patient with us while we get through them!

And while we’re on the subject of submissions, we’re already getting some early submissions for the annual summer special, which is great—just remember that our new specials editor John won’t be reviewing these for a while yet as we’ve only just entered Spring! While you’re welcome to send them in, please be aware they’ll be filed away for safekeeping until probably June at the earliest. 

Want to get a response earlier than that? We’re always, always, always looking for drabbles, unholy trinities and serialised fiction! 

For now, let’s head over to this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. Our main course, Peter Bakumov takes a trip to the end of the world. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Rob Butler’s soaring bird,
• Christopher Mattravers-Taylor’s ill-fated dive, and
• S.G. Perahim’s gym bro woes.

One final quick reminder: the next edition of my Writing the Occult online event series is fast approaching. We’ll be talking about relics on 10 May—all those cursed things dug up from the ground, found under the water, buried deep in the hope they would never again see the light of day. We’ll be chatting about the weird things we do with human remains, about Egyptology, about archaeology and shipwrecks and museums and more. There will even be a workshop with acclaimed horror writer Ally Wilkes, who will lead us through an adventure in cursed objects. You know you want to join us, right? Head over here for details and tickets. 

For now, it’s over to the boss man.

Greetings, children of the dark. Sound the klaxons: our latest short story submission window is now closed! If you send in a short story now, it will be returned to you unread and we don’t like having to do that, so please just hold onto it until the next one opens in July. 

Some stats for those playing at home: we had more than 50 submissions in those two weeks. Remember, these windows are quarterly, which means they cover around 12 editions of Trembling With Fear, so there’s quite a bit of competition. (This is also why we moved to the quarterly windows for short story subs; we had authors waiting almost a year, sometimes more, for their stories to be published!) The team’s looking forward to diving into your creative works, but please do bear with us while we get through them. And remember, if it’s a no, we were oversubscribed by more than three times the opportunities, so it’s not you!

While we prepare ourselves for the slush pile, we’ll hand you over to this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. For our main course, we’re dipping into some urban SF-lite with David McKenna, dealing with an investigation by HQ. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Sascha Reinhard’s unlucky hand,
• DL Ross’s hospital wallpaper, and
• Corinne Pollard’s buyer’s remorse.

A final note: It’s been a while since I plugged one of my events, but I’ve got a good ‘un coming up very soon! Writing the Occult: Relics takes a deep dive into the things left behind by those who came before, asking what we can learn from them, and how we can take inspiration for our own creative pursuits. Sessions will look at things like archaeology and horror, shipwrecks, ossuaries and the weird things we do with bones, and Egyptology, plus we’ll have sessions from horror authors Ally Wilkes (a workshop on cursed objects!) and Steve Toase, plus an interview with V Castro about how she sexed-up Aztec relic reparation for her erotic horror Immortal Pleasures. Early bird ticket prices (£35+bf, around US$50) end tomorrow, so be quick! Get the details here: writingtheoccult.carrd.co

Over to you, Stuart.

Greetings, children of the dark. I don’t know things are where you are, but on our side of this dystopian nightmare I have now added seasonal allergies which is making me *very happy indeed*. There’s nothing like sore, itchy eyes and a constantly-stuffed-or-runny-nose to add to the unfolding apocalypse that is the world in 2025. I’m planning on channelling my rage into a story or two ASAP; how about you?

If you get around to your rage-story in the next 24 hours or so, remember you have ONE DAY LEFT to submit to our April/Spring window for short stories. The window will close decidedly at midnight on 14 April, so get in quick by filling in the submission form, choosing the TWF short stories option, and hitting send. Remember, we cover the dark side of all speculative fiction: sci-fi, fantasy AND horror. The team at TWF Towers looks forward to reading them.

Consider taking inspiration from the talented folks featured in this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. For our main course, we’ve got an interesting deadly stream-of-consciousness from Samuel Marlinga. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Deborah Sheldon’s troubled birdbath,
• Geoff Holder’s apocalyptic survivor, and
• Annette Livingstone’s demented doll.

Over to you, Stuart.

Greetings, children of the dark. Keeping it short this week to throw all the attention on this one thing: Our April/Spring window for short story submissions is now open! This is your call to submit, submit, submit! And you know what? It’s spring or autumn, depending on which end of the globe you live in, so let’s make a special call for some folk horror coming our way. It’s either planting or harvest season, so lean into those pagan motifs and get your outsiders into a closed community for some shenanigans. This is my greatest wish for this window. You have until 14 April to get something to us, and then we’ll close again until the summer. 

Until then, let’s celebrate the talented folks featured in this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. For our main course, we’re following Bob Gielow’s media coverage of the apocalypse. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of a trio of regular contributors:

• Kevin M. Folliard’s mid-air issues,
• Robert Allen Lupton’s genetic manipulations, and
• Weird Wilkins’s brush with the wild.

Over to you, Stuart.

Greetings, children of the dark on this second-to-last day of March—which, btw, WTAF?! How does time work these days? I am, as ever, back to being behind on life because my brain is refusing to do its job lately, so I’ll just pop one note in here and then let you go about your merry ways…

Our April short story submission window shall be declared open on TUESDAY. Yes, that’s April Fool’s Day, but I promise you this is no prank. 

We’re right up to date on our slush pile now, so come on and fill it right up again! We want your best and brightest (well, darkest) speculative fiction. Your gothic tales and mythological beasts. Your killer-on-a-spaceships and your dystopian futures. Your dark dabblings with magic and your haunted happenings. Come on and submit—just make sure you read our submissions guidelines first, and please please please submit a clean, plain Word document. Bonus points if you do the following:

• 1.5 or double spacing
• 12pt font size
• Arial or similar font
• Word doc – not pasted into the submission form; not a Google doc link; not a PDF
• Have your name and story title on the first page

We’re not asking you to follow any strict particular formatting here; just the basics of helping us be able to open and read the document, identify what the story is, and who wrote it. Honestly, it’s formatting issues that have delayed the anthology publication because we now need to go through and proofread it carefully and check it for consistency, so do us a solid and let’s start out with the consistency, yeah?

But now, it’s time for this week’s edition of dark speculative fiction. For our main course, we have a gorgeously dark and haunting morsel from John Dougherty. That’s followed by the short, sharp speculations of:

• Catherine Berry’s trash,
• Sean MacKendrick’s possession, and
• Gideon Smith’s bargain.

Want to join these four in the illustrious pages of TWF? Here’s what we’re looking for:

• Always, always with the drabbles – those short, sharp bursts of exactly 100 words. Make it dark and make it speculative (scifi, fantasy, horror). We publish three of these every darn week of the year.
• Unholy Trinities – that’s three drabbles that are connected in some way. Sarah Elliott awaits your tales.
• Serials, or dark speculative fiction that can be serialised on the site over several weeks. Vicky Brewster is ready for ‘em.
• Finally, our next submissions window for general short stories opens on Tuesday!

Send your submissions via the form at the bottom of this page (and you may as well read the content of that page, since it tells you our guidelines).

Over to you, Stuart.