Cecil Baldwin the Geek’S Guide to the Galaxy
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TABLE OF CONTENTS Issue 24, September 2014 FROM THE EDITOR Editorial, September 2014 John Joseph Adams FICTION Singing with All My Skin and Bone Sunny Moraine Old Friends Charles L. Grant Animal Daniel José Older The Man in the Ditch Lisa Tuttle NOVEL EXCERPTS It Waits Below Eric Red Buster Voodoo Mason James Cole NONFICTION The H Word: Horror and Halloween Lesley Bannatyne Artist Gallery Sam Guay Artist Spotlight: Sam Guay Marina J. Lostetter Interview: Cecil Baldwin The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy AUTHOR SPOTLIGHTS Sunny Moraine Charles L. Grant Daniel José Older Lisa Tuttle MISCELLANY Coming Attractions Stay Connected Subscriptions & Ebooks About the Editor © 2014 Nightmare Magazine Cover Art by Sam Guay www.nightmare-magazine.com FROM THE EDITOR Editorial, September 2014 John Joseph Adams Welcome to issue twenty-four of Nightmare! Good news, everyone: Lightspeed won a Hugo! The 2014 Hugo Awards were presented at Worldcon in London last month. Prior to this year, it’s been my great honor to have been nominated for six Hugo Awards for editing: three for Lightspeed in the Semiprozine category and three for myself personally in the Best Editor (Short Form) category. Up until now, both Lightspeed and myself had each been 0-3 in our respective categories. If you’re reading this editorial then you probably already know that this year both Lightspeed and I were again nominated in the two aforementioned categories. But now THE STREAK HAS BEEN BROKEN: Lightspeed won the Hugo Award for Best Semiprozine! I immediately started a new losing streak by losing the Best Editor (Short Form) award to Ellen Datlow, but naturally I’m thrilled that Lightspeed took home the prize. And honestly if I’d had to choose which of the two categories I would win, I would definitely have chosen Lightspeed winning Best Semiprozine, so I’m not even a little bit sad. I wasn’t able to be in London for Worldcon this year to accept the award in person, but Lightspeed’s (and Nightmare’s!) Podcast Producer, Stefan Rudnicki, was there and accepted on behalf of the magazine. Thanks again so much to everyone who reads and who voted for Lightspeed, and to all of the authors and editors who have helped make it possible! • • • • In other happy news, Nightmare is now available as a subscription via Amazon.com! The Kindle Periodicals division has been closed to new magazines for quite a while now (and has been since before Nightmare launched), but by employing some witchcraft we were able to get the doors unlocked just long enough for us to slip into the castle. Amazon subscriptions are billed monthly, at $1.99 per issue, and are available now. Speaking of subscriptions, we’ve also made a change to the way our nightmare-magazine.com ebookstore subscriptions work. We’re discontinuing the bill-you-every-month subscription option in favor of a more traditional type of magazine subscription; now when you subscribe, you’ll sign up for a six ($11.94), twelve ($23.88), or twenty-four ($47.76) month subscription and then will only be billed once per subscription term. This change is going to make it a lot easier for us to process subscriptions and should help improve our cashflow, which of course we’ll use to make Nightmare even more awesome. If you’re a current subscriber, you don’t need to do anything; when your current subscription runs out, we’ll just send you an email to remind you to renew and then you’ll be presented with the new subscription options at that time. To learn more about these and our other subscription options, please visit nightmare-magazine.com/subscribe. • • • • In anthology news, the next installment of The Apocalypse Triptych—the apocalyptic anthology series I’m co-editing with Hugh Howey—is now available. The new volume, The End is Now, focuses on life during the apocalypse. The first volume, The End is Nigh (about life before the apocalypse) is on sale now. If you’d like a free preview of the anthology, pop over to Lightspeed and read Tananarive Due’s The End is Now story, “Herd Immunity.” For more information, visit johnjosephadams.com/apocalypse- triptych. • • • • With our announcements out of the way, here’s what we’ve got on tap this month: We have original fiction from Sunny Moraine (“Singing with All My Skin and Bone”) and Daniel José Older (“Animal”). For reprints, we have work from Charles Grant (“Old Friends”) and Lisa Tuttle (“The Man in the Ditch”). In the latest installment of our column on horror, “The H Word,” Lesley Bannatyne will be examining the history of horror and horror’s favorite holiday, Halloween. We’ve also got author spotlights with our authors, a showcase on our cover artist, and a feature interview with Welcome to Night Vale’s Cecil Baldwin. That’s about all I have for you this month. Thanks for reading! ABOUT THE AUTHOR John Joseph Adams, in addition to serving as publisher and editor-in-chief of Nightmare, is the series editor of Best American Science Fiction & Fantasy, published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. He is also the bestselling editor of many other anthologies, such as The Mad Scientist’s Guide to World Domination, Armored, Brave New Worlds, Wastelands, and The Living Dead. New projects coming out in 2014 and 2015 include: Help Fund My Robot Army!!! & Other Improbable Crowdfunding Projects, Robot Uprisings, Dead Man’s Hand, Operation Arcana, Wastelands 2, and The Apocalypse Triptych: The End is Nigh, The End is Now, and The End Has Come. Called “the reigning king of the anthology world” by Barnes & Noble, John is a winner of the Hugo Award (for which he has been nominated eight times) and is a six-time World Fantasy Award finalist. John is also the editor and publisher of Lightspeed Magazine and is a producer for Wired.com’s The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy podcast. Find him on Twitter @johnjosephadams. FICTION Singing with All My Skin and Bone Sunny Moraine I’m telling you this so you know: I don’t remember when I started eating myself. You should remember something like that. It should be a moment, one of those that you carry around forever, a line that you cut across your life to mark before, when everything was one way, and after, when everything was different. I don’t remember discovering it like a secret formula or an equation that explained the universe. I don’t remember discovering it at all. I’m not sure it was discovery. I think maybe it was something that grew, that asserted itself, learning without meaning to learn, like walking or speech. You’re made of things you can take to pieces, and those pieces can be eaten. The truth is that you’re made of meat. I do remember what I did with it. When I realized there was something to be done. I remember that very well. There’s a world with someone in it, and a world without them. If it happens right in front of you, that’s sort of hard to miss. I carry these things around with me. I’ve been trying to say them for years, so if you don’t mind. There are all kinds of things you don’t hear. • • • • What you need to understand is that this kind of magic persists because it works. It doesn’t work in large ways, in obvious ways; it’s not showy and it’s not out to impress anyone. This kind of magic is like a path through the night or tunnels beneath an occupied city, supply lines for resistance and the movement of agents. This kind of magic is the slender, fragile reclamation of power. When it’s done right no one notices it’s there. I’ve gotten very good at hiding it. But I was very clumsy, then, and even if it worked people saw too much of it, and that blunted its power. It takes years of practice to know just how to destroy yourself. Just how much to pick away. Just how much to gnaw off. Just how much to cut. What you need to understand is that I can’t change anything. I couldn’t protect myself then and I can’t now. What you need to understand is that this has never been about anything but the sheer pleasure of survival. • • • • Here’s what might have been the moment. It could have been any way, any time, somewhere between the number five and the number nine; it could have happened like this. There’s a healing scratch; the unevenness of it is pleasant, and the realization that fingernails slide so very neatly under its surface. It takes almost nothing to pull it away, and the blood wells up like liquid garnets, and it’s so pretty, and there’s something that washes over you then like slipping into a warm bath, and your breath comes easier, and you sag against everything. And it comes to you that there’s power in this, because just as you slip down, you slip sideways, and you see things you didn’t see before. There are bones under the world, and now they’re in front of you, and they rattle and dance. Grasses are deep jungles, streams are mighty rivers, here is the broken ground by a creek, and it’s a massive gorge through which that river flows. Everything small is abruptly enormous and dramatic, and you can lose yourself in it. The sky flips sideways.