What kind of stories do you print?

That is a question that we get quite a bit from authors looking to submit and people that find out about us. For our first few issues, it was the three of us self-publishing, so even though the stories were different in genre, they all...worked together in their strangeness, their departure from the realistic. It's part of why we use the name Here Be Monsters -- our stories flirt with the edges of the map.
 
But, as it turns out, it's difficult to convey that feeling to other people. In our first calls for submissions, we asked for any genre, and HBM was referred to as an anthology of fiction. We spoke about what we liked in some places, and authors could look through the book to get a feel for what we did, but we weren't advertising ourselves as the place for weird stories, or stories of any particular kind. We did this both because we didn't have a succinct way of saying exactly what we were looking for, and because we wanted as many submissions as possible.

When we approached Issue 6, we tried to focus in a bit, and we started calling it a speculative fiction anthology. This term is (slightly) more common than "genre fiction", which we'd used occasionally before. But we also tried to be more up-front with what our anthology was about. Both here on the blog and in our calls for submissions to writing groups and publications. I don't know if we've yet gotten to the right balance though. I still think there is a nicer way to show what we do that we haven't found yet.

For me, this balance means the most in terms of the writers and readers we attract. If we were called a Sci-Fi/Fantasy anthology (which we've never really been, but we do publish a fair amount of those genres) would we scare away readers of more "serious" fiction? And would we still get stellar stories like Ben Lemieux's "Grace" or Molly Lynch's "USS Roosevelt"? And what if we went the other way and put ourselves out there as simply straight "fiction"? Would we receive bizarre and fantastic stories like "Hungry Hungry Ed" or "If the Mountain Won't Come to Mohammed"? I love the variety and quality that we've been able to get with this issue, so I feel like the other writers out there understood what we were akwardly trying to say about the kind of book that this is. I just hope we can maintain the balance and get better at expressing it to people that don't know about us.

You'd think dealing with words all the time would make me better at this, but there is a certain something (or combination of somethings) that just makes a story click with Here Be Monsters. It's hard to describe, but it is undeniable (and exciting) when we find one of those. It makes me very happy to print them and share them with people.

-- Alex

This Is It

The choice has been made.  Issue 6 is coming.  It will contain great things.

Lamiai, by Anna Avdeeva, will take us to ancient Greece (no, not to discuss a bailout plan, I said ancient) to meet a terrifying myth.

To our surprise, post-modern poets will actually change the world forever in The Timely Demise of Entropy, by KimGoldberg.

Tyler McFarlane will show us how persistent Hungry Hungry Ed can be.

Molly Lynch will tell us about decommissioned ship USS Roosevelt, and how it became a twenty-eight-citizen country.

IraNayman will explain how to control sentient objects or die, in If The Mountain Won't Come to Mohammed.

In Statues, Justin Joschko will chill you to the bone.

Ben Lemieux will tell us the strange story of Grace, and a very old café where extraordinary things used to happen, and will happen again.

As for the Here Be Monsters regulars, Alexander Newcombe will venture into the world of sci-fi murder mystery in Cecilia, and Vincent Mackay will tell us about a very important game of chess in One Move From Checkmate.  Duane Burry did produce another story full of genetic manipulations and mind viruses, but decided to take one for the team, and withdrew his own work to leave more room for submitters.  We thank him for that.

All that and more (amazing cover art by Annabelle Métayer, incredible inside design by Alana Newcombe, merciless editing by Samantha Leclair, and a wonderful printing job by Maison Kasini), in issue 6: Settler 26.

Publishing Is Like Playing Tetris

Publishing is like playing Tetris. You need the right pieces and elements to come together. They come at you fast and unless you are in a state of flow you get crushed as things pile up around you. You reach that flow-state in Tetris when you have been playing for two hours straight without a break – just dropping blocks.

I would like to imagine that after two years (not two hours), we have gotten close to achieving a flow state for publishing Here Be Monsters. Really we haven’t… but I believe in the power of positive thinking, visualisation and all that (please refrain from bringing up that reality doesn’t run on optimism… it runs on harshness).

Whether or not we have reached a state of flow, Issue 6 is materializing fast. The right pieces have landed, or can be seen coming at us from above. We are very busy maneuvering the pieces coming at us into place. Soon there will be lots of bleeping. That’s what happens in Tetris, right? Just like real life.

Specific information on the actual publication will come in the very near future. For now I can tell you that our Launch date is March 16 at le cagibi in Montréal, Quebec. It is located at 5490 St. Laurent, which is here. March 16 is a Friday.

Our launches are not standard book launches, as far as I am aware. We tried that… once… Ours are rowdier events, as far as book launches go. We like music, writing-improv and comedy. Sometimes we do readings like you would expect at most book launches. There will be drinking, eating and mingling. It’s “celebration”. Books are fun. Book launches should be too. Ours are amazing.  

Copies will be available. They will also be amazing.

Thank you to submitters

Hello,

I wanted to put a quick post out there to let everyone know that we have almost finished deciding on the submissions for the next issue. I also want to give a big thank you to everyone that sent something in. This is by far our best response, both in terms of quality and quantity.

I've said it before, but I really do feel like HBM creates a place for stories that don't have many avenues of exposure. I think all of our readers will be blown away by the cool pieces we have coming in the next issue. In fact, we're looking into printing a bigger issue just to fit all of the fantastic stuff that we got.

And, if you're looking to get your hands on the anthology, we'll be launching in mid-March. Keep checking here for more details on the launch as well the other ways that you can pick up the book.

Thanks very much for reading.

-Alex

"Click", or the Ever-Talked-About Mysteries of Inspiration

"Where do you get your ideas?"

Writers (and other artists, but maybe especially writers) often get that question, and possibly even more so when they practice their craft (or art, or trade, or whaterver else you want to call the act of putting words on a page to make up a story) in sci-fi, fantasy, horror or other strange, zombie-filled arenas (Why do you use so many parentheses is another question I get asked a lot).

The answer varies quite a bit depending on your personnality, the way you work and your personal neuroses.  Some get inspired by other books, or news, or a stain of pureed banana shaped like Jesus (yes, I have a new baby, why do you ask?).  I've heard that Stephen King answers "Cleveland."

The way it usually works for me is what I can describe as a "click" moment.  It usually takes me by surprise, when I'm letting my thoughts wander.  Almost unbeknownst to me, my brain suddenly latches on to one thought.  Many times it's an image, like a man alone in an office building on New Year's eve (to see what kind of story comes from that image, read our next issue, available in march.  Awesome.  Fits every budget).  Sometimes it's a line, like "Alistair was at the country club when the world ended", which was the starting point for one of my favorite stories I've ever written (It's called Alistair's Armageddon, and you can read that one in HBM issue 2, Safer Where You Are.  Aweso...  alright, moving on).

In any case, when I get that image, or that line, it comes with a thrilling sensation in my chest, the type you get when you have a great present you're waiting to surprise someone with.  Contained excitement.  That's how I know the idea's good, that I should run with it.  Over the years, I've learned to trust that feeling.  I don't think I've ever written a story that I was happy about that didn't come first from that "click" moment, at least to some degree.

Then of course there's all the tedious work, ten percent inspiration, ninety percent perspiration, all that stuff they teach you in writing books and seminars.  No good writing can come without that (see Alex's post about editing).  By all means, edit, work at it, sweat, swear.  "Vingt fois sur le métier remettez votre ouvrage", as Nicolas Boileau said.  But I don't think I'd be writing if it wasn't for the rush I get from the "click".

(Oh, and I use parentheses a lot because they're fun and my thought process is like an overloaded, super-caffeinated flowchart on crack).

(But I don't do drugs).