Greetings, children of the dark. I’m writing this fresh off my happy place: a f*cking awesome gig in a great venue. Live music is a real lifesaver for me, and totally helps to replenish the batteries – something that’s much needed right now. (My therapist says I’m totally burned out and need a break, but when has that ever stopped me 😂)
I’d love to hear more about how you get creatively recharged – drop a comment below, or hit us up on social media! I’ll leave all the tagging details at the bottom of this week’s missive.
But before we get to the good stuff, I’ll repeat this plea:
Our drabble cupboard is looking awfully bare right now. Thanks to everyone who saw the plea and sent some in—it’s all much healthier now, and you definitely hit that arbitrary goal I set last week. Thank you! But it’s a neverending task, and a very hungry beast. We need more, and more, and more. Bloody insatiable! Keep it up, keep subbing, keep being brilliant.
And speaking of submissions, I’ve noticed a few subs for the summer special starting to drip through. That’s great, but you’ll be waiting a while for any sort of feedback—Shalini won’t even start thinking about the summer special for another couple of months. Maybe keep them on the backburner for a little while longer?
Anyways, this week’s TWF menu is inadvertently on a theme, for the most part. We start with the beautiful lamentation on loss (until it’s… not) that is Chip Houser’s short story. That story is followed by the short, sharp speculations of:
- Alan Moskowitz’s apocalypse,
- Evelyn Morgan’s denial, and
- Sean MacKendrick’s escape
Feel free to jump onto socials and have a chat – about your creative recharging, the stories you’ve read this week, or just to say hi!
- Twitter: @horrortree / @novicenovelist
- BlueSky: @horrortree.bksy.social / @laurenwrites.bsky.social
- Instagram & Threads: @horror_tree / @lozthewriter
- Mastodon is just me! @[email protected]
- Or follow HorrorTree on Facebook
Over to you, Stuart.