Genres: Fantasy
They will tell me, later, I was born singing. I wasn’t. I was born like all children are born, in one bloody, wailing, messy push. But I was born on fire. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Monday, 1st of June
Dear Mama,
I am sorry to tell you that Fanny is out hunting Poets again. It’s such a bore. She’ll be tiresome when she gets back, obv. sans Poets. No good telling her we don’t have the right sort of climate, or that she’d be sorry indeed if she caught one. She’ll persist in calling that bit of meadow above the duck pond “the moor,” lying in the grass pretending she’s just been thrown from her horse. Papa won’t let her take the plow horse, so she pretends hers has run off.
Later: A bit of excitement. Fanny has contrived to twist her ankle out on “the moor.” It’s swollen to a frightful size. She’s mum on how she managed to walk home on it. (You mustn’t worry; she is perfectly well. Carrying on dreadfully, but you know how she is.)
Spoke to Papa after she retired, in re: something must be done. But as usual, No One Listens To Me. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Horror
A broad list of international eating disorder support resources: https://www.worldeatingdisordersday.org/home/find-help/
My sister walks in on me as I contort myself in bed, trying to take a bite of my inner thigh—the fleshy part that’s rubbed against the other thigh ever since I got curves. I sit up so fast my head hits the underside of the upper bunk.
Avery’s eyes are wide. “Rowan, what are you doing?” she hisses. Avery gets angry when she’s scared, because she hates being scared.
“Nothing,” I say. I tug my jeans up over the offending thighs and fumble with the zipper. Avery’s only two years younger, but I’ve always felt motherly toward her. Mom always lies to me when she doesn’t want me to worry—Dad and I are just having a loud discussion, or of course Grandpa is going to get better, or you’ll be fine—so I do the same for Avery.
Avery crosses her arms and waits. After fourteen years of sharing a room, she knows me well enough to tell when I’m lying. She also knows me well enough to tell when I’m not going to talk, so when an awkward minute passes and I’m still picking lint off my comforter, she throws up her hands and leaves.
That’s where it starts. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Science Fiction
As the whale corpse landed, Discordant Hum felt auspicious vibrations in the cold abyssal water. “A giant fell,” she said. “It’s ours.” Her body glowed green-pleased. Quick Squeak and Melodious Chord, Discord’s sisters, swam in tight circles above her head.
“What about neighbor broods?” Melodious asked. “They may want it, too.” She waved a tentacle, one of six hanging down her belly, its tip shorn during the last territorial fight.
“You have five spares,” Quick said.
“As a sculptor, I need them all!” (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Fantasy, Modern Fantasy
There are two diners in Athens, Ohio.
The Court Street Diner serves tuna melts and satin malts in silver mixing cups. The Court Street Diner says it is stuck in the 1960s, but it is too hip to be a throwback. The waitstaff are young and enticing, dressed in gingham and high-waisted jeans.
The Union Street Diner is the older of the two establishments, open every hour of the day, serving breakfast twenty-four seven. Potatoes fried in sour grease arrive on thick ceramic plates, borne by pockmarked servers whose lives have passed like white bread through the conveyor belt of an industrial toaster, burnt and slow.
There are two witches in Athens, too, and each holds court in her respective diner. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Fantasy, Modern Fantasy
A statement from Cast of Wonders on the ongoing protests against police brutality and anti-Black racism. As you will no doubt be aware, protests are ongoing in the U.S. and across the world, drawing attention to police brutality and the ongoing injustice Black Americans are forced to endure. Cast of Wonders supports Black Lives Matter and wants justice for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery & all victims of police violence.
If you want to learn more about the realities of racism and how you can help tackle it, we have some suggestions for further reading for children, teens and young adults:
There are two diners in Athens, Ohio.
The Court Street Diner serves tuna melts and satin malts in silver mixing cups. The Court Street Diner says it is stuck in the 1960s, but it is too hip to be a throwback. The waitstaff are young and enticing, dressed in gingham and high-waisted jeans.
The Union Street Diner is the older of the two establishments, open every hour of the day, serving breakfast twenty-four seven. Potatoes fried in sour grease arrive on thick ceramic plates, borne by pockmarked servers whose lives have passed like white bread through the conveyor belt of an industrial toaster, burnt and slow.
There are two witches in Athens, too, and each holds court in her respective diner. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Fairy Tale, Fantasy
In the winter, the mornings are colder inside than out. Lily sings at the window, her voice wending its way toward the barn, the willow grove, the creek, as pure as the snow it floats over. Her breath frosts as she sings, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the church is the only part of town we can see. Margot huddles in bed, her hair tousled over her face, shivering. Margot has never been able to stand the cold.
“Celia,” she says to me, lifting the blanket a little so I can crawl in beside her. We lie side by side and listen to Lily sing until our stomachs rumble and we go downstairs to make breakfast. Lily refuses to sing while she is working, but she hums under her breath as she makes porridge, and in my mind I am humming too. Margot insists on having jam with breakfast every day, even though she knows the jam will run out long before spring. Lily insists on reserving a jar of rhubarb for herself, so that she can savor it on special occasions, long after Margot has devoured the rest of it.
I don’t care much about the jam. I begrudge my tongue its sweetness.
Genres: Fantasy
We were just going to bed when the townfolk came, led by Mrs. Hutch with her know-all voice.
I climbed up the cabin ladder to the loft, careful to curl my toes over the rough beams of wood. Ma had fallen off the stairs just a week ago, and now she slept downstairs on the sofa. The cabin was just one big room, so she could still yell up at me and Minn to make us quiet down.
Minnie had the covers pulled up over her head. I could see her eyes shining out from a little hole, like a cat in her cave.
“Move over, Minn.” I swung my legs under the covers. She scooted back, and I pressed my feet against her thighs.
Minnie wrapped her hands around my feet. Their warmth prickled. “So cold!”
The underside of the covers twinkled with little points of light. Minnie touched her finger to the sheet. When she pulled it back there was a warm, red star there. She made two rectangles, a star in each corner of the boxes. An arc of stars lead from the bottom of one rectangle to the center of the other. My feet in Minnie’s hands.