Nonfiction
Author Spotlight: Theodora Goss
I struggled at first, because I couldn’t find the right voice to write it in. But then I thought of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, that sort of nostalgic tone, and I wrote in that sort of voice.
I struggled at first, because I couldn’t find the right voice to write it in. But then I thought of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, that sort of nostalgic tone, and I wrote in that sort of voice.
My initial thought on the series was I wanted to write about a woman dating a vampire. But to make them less frightening, to give them a reason for being out, I had to develop a theory that would let them look less vicious.
I don’t believe that pain is something extrinsic to goodness. I believe there can be goodness in suffering, but that this does not mean suffering itself is good.
Welcome to issue fifty-six of Fantasy Magazine! Here’s what we’ve got on tap this month … Fiction: “Seven Spells to Sever the Heart” by K. M. Ferebee, “Christopher Raven” by Theodora Goss, “Red Dawn: A Chow Mein Western” by Lavie Tidhar, “The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death” by Ellen Kushner. Nonfiction: Feature Interview: Charlaine Harris by John Joseph Adams and David Barr Kirtley, “Shades of the Nineteenth Century” by Helen Pilinovsky, “Home on the Strange” by Emma Bull, “The Pen and the Sword” by Kat Howard.
Whenever you see a trick performed you know from the outset that you are going to be tricked, so you set up certain mental safeguards, trying to see where and how the conjuror could possibly deceive you.
I’d argue that’s the basis for all good fantasy stories: Ground the reader in the familiar so that when you do bring more improbable elements on stage, they’re more readily accepted.
This week, we at Fantasy Magazine bring you five aquatic organisms that could easily be confused for alien or paranormal life (but are actually real).
I have many friends in the FBI (that makes my old hippie self shudder) and lots and lots of friends in the legal community. So law enforcement stuff is almost as natural as breathing to me.
Dating a deity has a certain ineffable appeal—the carefree demeanor, the kinky shapeshifting, the supernatural transportation options, the lure of immortality.
I think monsters serve as a means of social control, representative of both unsavory behaviors and unsavory punishments. Then there’s also the need we have for an “other” to define ourselves against.