Nightmare Magazine, Issue 124, Wendy N. Wagner, ed. January 2023.
My favorite ‘zine that Takes Horror Very Seriously is back, this month with a focus on family, loosely defined. I spent more time on the fiction, as usual, but only just -- there were two challenging nonfiction pieces this month.
Favorite piece for this month: hands down, Alyza Taguilaso’s macabre and hauntingly beautiful poem Fruit. One often thinks of the death of a loved one as cutting out the hearts of the survivors; in this case its the opposite. James L. Sutter’s To Cheer As They Leave You Behind is about a just slightly too possessive mother who has never quite learned to let go--and apparently never will. Katherine Quevedo brings us Until It Has Your Reflection, which is about maternal dedication of a very different stripe. Finally, in Last Night at the Sideshow, Gordon B. White explores a side of what the editor in her introduction to the month delicately calls “found family”: the circus. All are polished and entertaining but thought-provoking reads.
In nonfiction, James Chambers takes over the the recurring column The H Word with an interesting essay about shifting popular understanding of zombies. I had to read the column twice before deciding I was with Chambers at the beginning and the end, but his middle--a ranty excursion into social media--was unconvincing. The column did, though, persuade me that I need to read Chambers’ Corpse Fauna series. I also need to rewatch some classic George Romero, which I don’t remember in nearly as socially-positive a light as Chambers does. (Not bad for 1498 words, and possibly my longest engagement with anything nonfiction so far in 2023.)
Correction: Not one, but two copies of Bulgakov. And one of them I’ve managed to evade reading for 16 years…
The new de-cryp-ted feature has Terrence Taylor reviewing Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. I also haven’t read this--it’s been lingering on my Kindle for two years--and Taylor reminds me why I was interested in it in the first place. (I have to finish my long, slow slog through The Gulag Archipelago first, though. There’s only so much samizdat I can take at one time.) The author spotlights are of James L. Sutter and Katherine Quevedo, both by Xander Odell. Both were interesting, and I particularly enjoyed the latter, both for the insights into her skilled interpolation of a nightmare into a polished story, and shared aversion to social media.
Smirk factor: All clear: 2 pts (1 smirk, describing a facial expression)
Immersion factor: Waist-high: 1 pt
Writing quality: Above-average: 1.5 pts (Good fiction, mixed but decent nonfic.)
Character/plot development: Average: 1 pt
Innovative/interesting: Above-average: 1.5 pts
Total: 7/10 (3.5 stars)
Nightmare Magazine, Issue 125. Wendy N. Wagner, ed. February 2023.
This issue promises “pulling out all the stops on ultraviolence and creepiness for...The Killer Issue.” How well does it deliver?
On the fiction end, my clear favorite was the flash piece A Girl Defines Herself by Ruth Joffre, which daringly mixes etymology, identity and...eating defeated enemies’ hearts. Rock on. Eric Grove’s Home was chilling and an unconventional take on psychotic creeping. Dominique Dickey in Who The Final Girl Becomes, launches the protagonist through a profound exploration of self and identity, prompted by surviving a bloody, B-movie style massacre. It’s longer (7200 words) and less tightly-written than most of Nightmare’s pieces. Finally, Rob E. Boley’s When At Last He Was Empty explores the little-traveled path of fatal vomiting, albeit with style and a hint of dark humor.
Nonfic: The H Word hosts Rena Mason writing on the lasting influence of misogynistic tropes in Asian horror cinema, and her vision for the future. Lisa Morton interviews spec-fic author Eric J. Guignard, whose personal writing chops appear rivaled by his ambitious publishing efforts. Leighanna DeRouen has an author spotlight for Dominqiue Dickey, which is an excellent companion to her Final Girl piece. Tonia Ransom profiles Erik Grove, who plumbs the origins of his story about the terror of being stalked, watched and hunted in our own most personal spaces.
This edition was mixed. I usually appreciate Nightmare’s fiction more than the nonfiction -- although issue 124 was a bit of an exception. This time was a little different in that neither section really spoke to me. The fiction resonated less than usual. This edition also added content warnings, whose presence I found interesting as an idea and annoying in practice. (There is a fascinating tension between delivering “Horror and Dark Fantasy” and doing “a better job making sure our readers feel welcomed and safe!” as the editor notes. I am not the one to explore this, though -- at least not here or now.)
Smirk factor: All clear: 2 pts. (Zero smirks given.)
Immersion factor: Damp: 0.5pts (Spoilers--um, “content warnings” galore.)
Writing quality: Average: 1 pt
Character/plot development: Average: 1 pt
Innovative/interesting: Above-average: 1.5 pts
Total: 6/10 (3 stars)