A wild end-of-year post appears

This is the first year I’ve published enough to really bother with one of these. I’m not calling it an eligibility post, because honestly, even if I was successful enough to be nominated for things, who has the time to go through checking eligibility criteria and what-have-you? But I like making lists. They make me feel like I’ve achieved things! So, here you go.

Welcome to the 27 Club (February, Electric Spec)

CW: Self-harm, suicidal thoughts

I used to go looking for others. Study faces for the look of dislocation in the eyes, listen for the slip-up that would betray the discomfort of wearing another’s skin. I even dropped hints. There had to be someone, I thought; someone in the same boat, as alone and lost as I was. I never found them, and as the years slipped by, I stopped looking.

Catching My Death (April, Writers of the Future vol. 36)

Jacob caught his death yesterday.

I watched him carry it back to town from the top of the hospital steps. It looked like a good one: quiet, nestled like a kitten in the crook of his arm.

There weren’t a lot of spectators. Tuesday morning, and a few idling shoppers trickled out onto the street to rubberneck, but no crowd. I’d been sitting on the steps toying with a cigarette and waiting for Mum, but when I saw the bright red flag of Jacob’s jacket I jumped up. He’d been out in the forest since last Friday night, and we’d begun to wonder if he’d be one of the ones who didn’t come home.

Shards (July, Curiosities vol. 7)

Else jumped down from the mantel, dusted off her skirt, and regarded him with big, frank brown eyes. “Who are you?” she demanded, and then, as though remembering to do so was a bit of an inconvenience, added, “I’m Else.”

“Red.” He stuck out his hand, because that that was what you did when you were trying to be polite. Nobody in the House really bothered, of course, but something about Else made him feel he should make the effort. Her clothes were blindingly clean, for one thing, and he couldn’t see a single patch or darned-up tear. Perhaps that meant she was important.

Reprint: We Speak in Tongues of Flame (September, Gwyllion)

She makes a game of it, sometimes, trying to break their concentration. She has chalks in all the bright colours of the insect kingdom, and when she starts early, she can cover a quarter of the square in flowers and monsters and women with flowing tresses before they arrive. A young recruit forgot himself and stared, once, and the blush that coloured his face when she caught him looking warmed her from within for days.

It wasn’t a warmth born of lust, or even, really, of pride. It was pure, clean spite.

Beach Dirt on Bare Feet (October, Her Magical Pet)

“I told him I didn’t need anyone.” Her accent’s almost local, but not quite, a strangeness in the careful way she articulates the words. Not exactly foreign, but not exactly familiar.

I take a step into the darkness, feeling gingerly along the bottom of the pool with my bare feet. My eyes take a moment to adjust, but when they do, I make out the shadowy outline of a woman—and the rock that’s trapping her right leg.

“Right,” I say. “I’ll head off then, shall I? Because you look like you’re managing fine.”

White Shapes in Snow (December, New Welsh Reader)

CW: Rape mention, drugs

Hunched into the wind for the long tramp up Trebanog Hill, he keeps catching glimpses from the corners of his eyes. Pale loping forms as big as a man: ape or wolf or something not-human anyway, with limbs that move in ways limbs shouldn’t. They aren’t there when he turns to look at them, but as soon as he faces front again, they’re back. It’s snowing hard now, a thick staticky curtain all around him, and the pockets of his hoodie do nothing to protect his hands from the cold. The sole of his right boot is coming off at the front, freezing slush creeping in and soaking his sock, and it catches on a flagstone and sends him down thump onto one knee on the icy pavement, numb claws scrabbling for a handhold to lever himself upright again.

Grey Mary (December, Sinister Horror Company advent calendar)

There, up ahead: the Mari, hollow eyes leering at me out of the snowy dark. Then I blink, and the skull is gone. It’s just Mary. There’s something about how the snow seems to fall past her, not settling on her bob or the shoulders of her cardigan. Something that makes her seem not quite here. My stomach knots, and I think for a moment about going home to a fire, a drink, and a bit of crap TV.

I don’t. I keep following, drawn in Mary’s wake through the snow.

…And that’s all she wrote. Or at least, all she managed to get published. Happy New Year, and here’s hoping the next one’s an improvement!

“Grey Mary” now up at the SSHC advent calendar!

I was chuffed to bits when, earlier this year, J. R. Park of the Sinister Horror Company got in touch and asked if I’d be interested in contributing to their horror advent calendar. Naturally, I heard ‘Christmas horror story’ and thought immediately of the Mari Lwyd (though you’ll hear people arguing about whether she’s a Christmas or a New Year tradition).

The result was “Grey Mary”, and it’s up on the website now! Head on over if you fancy a scare… and don’t forget to check out the other stories while you’re there.

Praise for Her Magical Pet

Just thought I’d share this very nice review of Her Magical Pet over at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books.

It’s really positive about the anthology overall, and here’s what the reviewer had to say about “Beach Dirt on Bare Feet”:

‘Beach Dirt on Bare Feet’ by Louise Long, is an F/F selkie story and I loved it. It had a really strong sense of place and feel of the sea about it, and I loved that the story explored the ambivalence and well-earned lack of trust a selkie might feel towards humans. It felt very much in dialogue with the old selkie tales, and it just really, really worked for me. Also, I loved Morvoren’s reaction to tasting human food for the first time – especially ice cream.

Just in case you were considering buying a copy and any of this helps sway you, of course…

Oh, you thought spooky season was over?

It never is! Not round here, anyway.

On which note, you can find my wintry horror story, “White Shapes in Snow”, in the Winter 2020 issue of New Welsh Reader, which came out earlier this week. Content warnings apply: contains drug use and a brief, non-explicit reference to rape.

I’ve also contributed a short piece to the Sinister Horror Company advent calendar, which will be running all month. And no, I don’t know which day it’ll be posted — you’ll just have to keep checking behind the doors.

More upcoming stories? Oh yes.

We’re well into spooky season, so this seems like a good time to mention a couple of stories I’ll have coming out later this year. They’re both in a cold ‘n’ creepy vein — think ghosts and monsters looming out of curtains of snow…

“White Shapes in Snow” is a snowy creature-feature that’s also about the ways we’re complicit in ignoring the abuse around us, and will be appearing in the December issue of the New Welsh Reader.

“Grey Mary” is a ghost story inspired by the Welsh New Year tradition of the Mari Lwyd, and it’ll be one of the entries in a horror advent calendar that the excellent J. R. Park of the Sinister Horror Company is putting together.

As always, watch this space for updates!

My secret identity*

* Rumours of secretness may be somewhat exaggerated. Sounds cooler than a pen-name, though, right?

So, as well as my usual weird/SFFH content, I also occasionally like to write more straightforward, romance-flavoured urban fantasy. So that you know what you’re getting, I’ll be publishing those stories under a pseudonym, Louise Long.

And I’m pleased to say that my first story under that name, “Beach Dirt on Bare Feet”, is out now as part of Her Magical Pet, an anthology of f/f romance stories featuring, as you might expect, magical pets! It’s about a psychic, a distrustful selkie, and a smartass dolphin.

All profits from the anthology will go to OutRight Action International, which fights for LGBT+ rights around the world.

Available now on Amazon.

News, of the good variety

I’ve been querying for a few months now, gnawing my fingernails to the quick like a self-cannibalising hamster, but I can finally stop! Because I’ve signed with a fantastic agent, Sandra Sawicka of Marjacq Scripts, and I’m looking forward to working with her to make my book the best it can possibly be.

And, while I’m sharing good news, this might also be a good time to mention that my story “Diamonds and Pearls” will appear in the Winter 2021 issue of Fireside Quarterly, and will be popping up on the website shortly after. Fireside is absolutely fantastic, as you’ll be well aware if you read any SFF short fiction, so having something of mine appear in its pages is pretty damn awesome, not gonna lie.