When the luminous Angela Craig, my editor and publisher at Elektrik Milkbath Press, announced a call for an urban-spec anthology of short fiction, I was intrigued and also inspired. I wanted in. So much so, I submitted three tales to the call. The story accepted into Twisted Boulevard: Tales of Urban Fantasy, my sinister "Malediction on a Gray Summer Morning", came to me on a hot August day in 2012, a Monday directly following an all-day literary party held at a friend's house. I'd wandered into my then-kitchen in the apartment we rented before buying our own home a few months later, pulled out the coffee pot, filled it with water, and then set the empty carafe on the stretch of formica counter top while I spooned coffee into the fresh filter. Still super-inspired from the previous day's gathering, I suppose, my mind fixated on the carafe -- whether I'd set it too close to the edge of the counter. If it fell and shattered, I'd be out of luck. And likely quite cranky after being denied my morning brew. That scenario set the stage for the opening of a story: coffee pot well away from the drop to death, only it slides over the edge of the counter anyway and spills to the floor. Clearly, the gravity must be off! A normal start to a normal morning, only the world we've woken to is askew, and once you walk outside your front door, just how wonky things have become quickly sets in. That was the start to the story, a first draft of which dashed itself off that day and the next. It is an honor to be included among the twenty-seven stories that inhabit the Boulevard.
"I’m a city girl at heart and I
always think of the city as being made of equal parts beauty and grit," says Angela when asked about her inspiration in creating this particular anthology. "I love the lights… the noise… the
constant motion… the raw energy of it all. People always warn you about the
dangers of the city and yes, they are there. But there is so much magic there, too. Walk downtown at night -- you can
feel it surging around you. Visit
a dance club, see if there isn’t something otherworldly happening there. Watch the people on the streets. How can you be sure they are what you
think they are? After all,
the city, by its very nature, remains in a constant state of flux -- what better
place could you think of to hide? That’s why I love urban
fantasy. I love to see what’s hidden in the shadows. I love discovering things aren’t
always what they seem. And,
of course, my tastes tend to run to the darker edge so many of these
stories -- even those that are maybe not explicitly horror -- tend to have."
Many of my fellow authors in Boulevard shared the back-stories behind their stories.
Paul L. Bates on "Phoenix": "The concept of regeneration -- physical as well as
metaphorical/allegorical -- within the natural
order has always fascinated
me, and the phoenix legend is one of the most compelling versions of that
notion. There are a great many accounts from all over the world, each with its
own take on the fabulous bird which perishes in order to be reborn, sometimes
from its own ashes, sometimes from an egg it has laid. I had just read Angela
Carter’s well-received 1979 collection of dramatically re-imagined folk/fairy
tales, The Bloody Chamber, on the recommendation of a friend, and was
very impressed with both the author’s crisp prose as well as her feminist/romantic vision. So as is my wont, I wrote
“Phoenix” as a tribute to her, putting my own quasi-romantic slightly sardonic
male spin upon the tale."
M. E. Garber on "Marika's Way": "For a couple years I lived in Nürnberg, Germany, and
visited a coffee shop that became the basis for the one in this story. The stairs twisted unevenly down to the restrooms, the
stone block of the walls looked ancient, and a patina of graceful age sat upon
the entire building like some kind of magic charm. Oh, how I loved that place
then, and how I miss it still! But the
underlying impetus came from something I saw at the 2000 World's Fair in
Hannover. Remember all the strife in the former Soviet-bloc eastern European
nations during the 90's? The movie the Czech Republic showed viewers upon
entering was visceral: images from warfare, starting slowly and moving faster,
and faster, until the attendees were besieged by the images of pain, torment
and horror from around the world. And then -- smiling faces, sunshine. The
voice-over told how Czechoslovakia dissolved peacefully into the Czech Republic
and the Slovak Republic, how they stopped the war raging in their hearts before
it waged in their streets. The lights came up, and we were free to enter the
physical exhibit. But that memory of unending war has never left me."
Eric Ian Steele on "Blood of an Englishman": "My story literally came right out of the blue. I was
determined to write a short short story. That's all I
remember before sitting down. Then the first line popped into my head: 'The streets into London had been free of the usual herds of
unicorns that morning', and the rest of the story just wrote itself. That hasn't happened to me on
too many occasions, but when it does the result always seems to be something
that winds up in print. Maybe good ideas come from the same dimension as
the creatures in this story!"
Doug Goodman on "Ranas": "'Ranas' is my love story to teachers. I come from a family
full of educators, and then I married one. So when I wrote 'Ranas', I kept
thinking of little things I had heard along the way. Things like the teachers'
worst nightmare or the defiant 'this is MY class' attitude of educators
that in some ways seem more appropriate with King Leonides and his 300. Educators
lead some of the most interesting, complicated lives. I think I got a bit of
that in this horror comedy. Of further note: This one is for Mr.
Kopf, my journalism teacher in high school. He was the first person outside my
family who said, 'you know, you might have something here.'"
Juliet Kemp on "Gonna Crack It All Open": "Clubs are strange places. Full of sweaty strangers, who are often not entirely sober. But the right DJ at the right place and the whole thing changes shape, creating a glorious shared bubble of suspended time, full of music and movement. Eventually, it ends, and you stumble out into the morning sunshine to discover that the world is (somewhat surprisingly) still there. But a bit -- different, somehow, around the edges. You're not quite in the same universe as the people who pass you on their way to work as you head home. Your universe is just a little bit 'shinier'. The shine always wears off. But wouldn't it be lovely if it didn't?"
James Hubbard on "¡Ole!": "'¡Ole!' began when my
mother-in-law told me of an incident that happened some years ago in Bogota,
Colombia. The first versions of the story drew on different aspects of an
unusual and unexpected death, however the final content and structure took
shape as I experienced Colombian culture and beliefs while I worked and traveled
in the country during the six years I lived there. I found the contradiction
fascinating between tradition and beliefs, between Catholicism, superstition
and magic that are such natural parts of Colombian culture and can be found in
all walks of life, from people living on the streets through to those living in
exclusive, gated estates, from the folk living in the Andes to the indigenous
peoples living in the desert at the northern tip of South America. The final
story is constructed using the three stages of a bullfight as the structure for
developments between the main character and his fate, and the main character is
a bullfighter to represent the strong sense of tradition that is an integral
part of Colombian society."
Eric Del Carlo on "Slay the Fey": "My tale depicts an economically depressed near future where fairies are illegally crossing over from their misty realms to take up residence in our world. A tweenage boy protagonist ends up harboring one of these fugitives. I simply blueprinted the hysteria surrounding the incursion of undocumented humans into this country. There is some very queasy overlap between the gun-happy Fairy Watch in my story and the real life murders of unarmed youths by self-appointed community guardians."
Eric Del Carlo on "Slay the Fey": "My tale depicts an economically depressed near future where fairies are illegally crossing over from their misty realms to take up residence in our world. A tweenage boy protagonist ends up harboring one of these fugitives. I simply blueprinted the hysteria surrounding the incursion of undocumented humans into this country. There is some very queasy overlap between the gun-happy Fairy Watch in my story and the real life murders of unarmed youths by self-appointed community guardians."
Nevada Lewis on "The Rule": "The first bits of inspiration for this story came
from a textbook required for a sociology class I took my first year of college.
I was skimming through it and came across a sentence that read something like, ‘to
get an idea of how many people have lived on Earth, you would add fourteen for
every person alive today.’ For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get the image of
a string of ghosts trailing behind everyone I saw out of my head. I just really
liked the idea of everyone carrying around little pieces of the past in the
form of people with them, so I filed it away with all of my other
hastily-scribbled and half-formed ideas. I knew there was a story lurking
in there somewhere. A year
later, I wrote it."
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