In this blog post, we are both time-travelling and staying in the present. We’re not afraid of a paradox here, no sir. Those mad few of you who keep up with my shenanigans might remember a post I made last year, gushing about the moon. During my many months of “No”, I not only received my contributor copies of what might be the single most beautiful book I have ever been lucky enough to appear in (yes, the one pictured above, the one with all the foiling), but I was also asked by the lovely people of Flame Tree if they could feature my flash fiction in their brand new, shiny-shiny podcast Myth & Fiction.
I love—no, I adore hearing my work read aloud. Naturally, I said yes!
I have made my love for Punchdrunk’s Viola’s Room no secret. I have mentioned it at every available opportunity. Imagine my excitement, then, when I discovered that my story, “Shattered Moon, Hungry Sea”, would be appearing in an episode alongside Barry Pain’s “The Moon-Slave”—the story that inspired Viola’s Room, and therefore the reason it exists.
I’ve mentioned before that this anthology, my submitting to it and my being accepted, feels like fate. This solidifies that feeling. The lovely folks in charge of curating the Myth & Fiction podcast had no way of knowing that I am deeply, utterly, and completely in love and obsessed with anything Viola’s Room and Viola’s Room-adjacent. They had no way of knowing that that show changed me as a person—and yet. Here it is, that story alongside mine.
This may be my favourite publication.
Yesterday, my episode of Myth & Fiction went live. I love how my story sounds, Olivia, the narrator, did such an excellent job. I’m so pleased.
If you’d like to have a listen, it’s available on all the usual podcasting platforms, or, you can listen to it on the handy player below!
For the next few posts, we will be doing a spot of time-travelling. Interspersed with any new-news, we will be chatting about the old-news that I missed during my Time Away™. In this post, we’re travelling back to chilly November.
Back in chilly November, one of my strangest pieces of fiction was published between the eldritch pages of Cosmic Horror Monthly. Cosmic Horror Monthly is a strange publication filled with all sorts of odd and interesting things, and I am proud to have my own brand of weird in their catalogue.
And the cover art—the cover art. Ahem…
“An Ouroboros of a Sort” is a story about the perils of making connections—reaching out is easy, but letting go? That’s another matter entirely.
As is customary, to whet your appetite…
The woman at the window is impossible.
It is not that she is a woman nor that she stares so that her brow is fixed permanently downwards; nor is it that her hair is too black, too sleek, too shiny, but rather that she cannot be at the window in the first place. Sage lives on the thirteenth floor, and the window is much too high.
—ELOU CARROLL, “AN OUROBOROS OF A SORT”, COSMIC HORROR MONTHLY #53
Eeee! This is a big one, folks. You might have spied, if you haunt my social media, this little announcement already, but now I have a fancy graphic and therefore can do a fancy blog post. Everything must be fancy for us fanciful folk. Ahem. Let me tell you a story (from long, long ago)…
(That sentence is to be read in the voice of Helena Bonham Carter and is a very niche reference that you will only get if you have seen Punchdrunk’s Viola’s Room or the little trailer for it on Instagram. It has absolutely nothing to do with this update, but I’ve been to the experience twice now and it will live rent-free in my head and my heart and my bones for the rest of my life so you should expect references to it to crop up for the rest of forever. Thank you for humouring me. Since I last mentioned it, it has been extended in its current form until mid-November, and a Christmassy form until… Well, Christmas. You should experience it if you’re going to be in London. I am not the same person I was before.)
Once upon a time, way back in—hoo boy—August 2021, I submitted a short story to FOUND. It made it to the final round of consideration (I think), but didn’t quite make it into the book. Alas, alack. It was a strange sort of a story, as you would expect from a found footage piece, but I am glad that it was rejected. Stick with me. I know, it’s strange to be happy about a rejection (and, don’t get me wrong, I was sad about it at the time). For a long time, I ignored that story. I couldn’t think of anywhere to submit it to and so I didn’t look at it.
Until, one day, I did. I looked at it, and then something strange happened: a whole other narrative thread started appearing in the story. I hadn’t planned on expanding it. I opened it to read it, but there I was, typing away, and so the story grew. The story grew by over 1,000 words and it felt ready in a way I hadn’t realised it could. I thought it was finished the first time. Apparently, I was wrong.
Cue November 2023, Andrew Cull and Gabino Iglesias, editorial team of dreams, announce FOUND 2. Cheekily, I asked if I could resubmit the new and improved version of my original story since they liked it the first time and it was now better. Luckily (and let’s be honest, so many things in writing rely on luck), I was given the go ahead, and luckier still, they liked it!
I am absolutely delighted to be appearing in FOUND 2 and in exactly one month, it will be out in the wild, frightening the locals. I’m going to save telling you what my story is until then (I’ve said it before and I will say it again: I am a tease), but if you’d like to pre-order a lovely little e-book copy, you can do so here (UK) and here (US). There will be print copies too! I can’t wait to hold it in my grubby little hands.
We love a multi-update entry. Two exciting things falling on one day is almost too much excitement for my decrepit little heart to take. Almost, but not quite. I lost my monthly streak. Last month, I had nothing in the way of news, but I think this being a double-whammy makes up for it. I hope it makes up for it, anyway. Before we get to the aforementioned double-whammy, however, another update: I am officially querying the novel. It’s real. It’s out there. It’s terrifying.
I sent my first query on 29th August and received a partial request for it yesterday—I am thrilled and scared and feeling absolutely everything. If nothing else, I’m very happy to have had a positive response to my very first query. Eeee!
While the Dream book is being queried I, in my usual chaotic, non-chronological, goblin way, am working on: its sequel, which I shall dub the Witch book for the purposes of … discussing it in a public place; a standalone YA novel, which I am referring to as the House book; and a standalone adult fairy tale retelling, which I am referring to as the Crow book. That and my normal host of short stories, and a novella, which we’ll nickname… the Fruit book?
I just love telling stories. I don’t know what to tell you.
This is a special update. This is one of those updates that I am going to hold in my heart for a good long while. I’ve been wanting to talk about this for over a year, but I’ve held my tongue like a good little author—but now I don’t have to!
Back in May 2023, I received an email from the lovely Todd Sanders at Air and Nothingness Press inviting me to write for a very special anthology. Fathoms in the Earth invites its authors to reimagine the archetypal characters of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. I’m convinced Todd might be a mind-reader. The Tempest is arguably my favourite Shakespeare play (followed very closely by A Midsummer Night’s Dream, then Hamlet, then Macbeth, if you wondered), and he’d already come up with an earlier anthology concept that was so very me and that I was lucky enough to appear in (Spirit Machine will always be one of my favourite publications). I’m 100% up for anything Air and Nothingness Press might throw at me, quite honestly.
The anthology, inventively, uses titles of books that appear in the 1991 film, Prospero’s Books, to title its stories. (Serendipitously, 1991 happens to be the year I was born!) Each of us was assigned a title and then let loose to create as we saw fit.
My story, “A Book of Mythologies”, is from the perspective of Ariel and seeks to ‘correct’ its own mythology—that is to say, the plot of The Tempest. I had a lot of fun writing it, and it contains some of my favourite sentences in any of my writing to date. I enjoy it, and I hope you will too!
If there is a choice to be made, I am the one to choose. If I am the one to choose, I will shape the world.
Or break it.
—ELOU CARROLL, “A BOOK OF MYTHOLOGIES”, FATHOMS IN THE EARTH
Today also saw the release of a wonderful podcast! The excellent folks at Lunatics Radio Hour are hosting a little library of spooky sea-faring stories across two episodes, and I am so pleased to have one appearing in their number. My story appears with stories by writing friends, Warren Benedetto and Marisca Pichette, and new-to-me writers in the form of Mathew Gostelow and Alex Grehy. Each story is different and great and it’s a pleasure to be featured alongside them
Heading up the episode, “Lorelee” was originally published in Seaborne Magazine, a venue that seems to have disappeared (alas). It’s lovely to be able to resurrect in audio form, read by the brilliant Tessa McKnight, who brings the story to life so wonderfully—I’ve listened to it more than once and I will listen to it again!
You can listen in the player below, or on any of the usual podcasting places.
She is on the beach again, hair tangled with salt and sand. Fingers gritty and bloodied, she digs and digs and pulls up each shell in turn, holds them close to her ear and casts them away. With every empty carapace she howls and screams until her voice breaks like a wave on the shore.
Have I mentioned that I love the moon? I love the moon. Most of my favourite fairy tales, fables, and myths have something to do with the moon. I once dressed up as a moon princess, and it may be the most wonderful I have ever looked and/or felt. There is a novel sitting in my head (until I am ready to write it) that features her loveliness, the moon. A recent theatrical obsession, Punchdrunk’s Viola’s Room, features the moon. (If you’re in London before September 15th, you should go and experience it. Run. Do not walk.) I really love the moon.
Naturally, when I saw that Flame Tree Press was adding a moon-themed title to their pool of Gothic Fantasy anthologies, submitting felt like fate. I’ve been trying to wheedle my way into this series for some time now, and to make it into the moon-themed anthology with one of my favourite bits of flash fiction… Well, it’s a bit of a dream come true, if I’m honest.
“Shattered Moon, Hungry Sea” previously appeared in online-only form on Apparition Lit after winning their November 2020 Flash Fiction Challenge. I can’t think of a better physical, print home for it than this. There is foiling. There is embossing. It’s a hardback. I mean, it’s book production heaven.
I will save my usual excerpt for the “It’s out!” entry, but for now, I will leave you with a link to the rest of the contributors, whose work will be published alongside several classic stories and tidbits from international myths, which you can see here.
Just look at this cover. Look at the sheer amount of foiling. Beautiful.
In much scarier writing news, I have passed the novel—yes, that same novel that has been living with me and me alone since 2019—to a wonderful writing friend to read over before I begin querying it in the autumn. I am very scared. Quietly hopeful—I love this book—but very scared.
Apparently, I am not ready to be rid of those characters for even a little bit, however. Today, the first, tentative words of its sequel crept out of my brain and onto the page. We love a good, old-fashioned duology in this house.
We’re also in full swing on the novella challenge. I was wrong, it’s a 10 week challenge, not a July challenge. Phew. It’s slow going, but it’s very strange and I like it already.
Hello again, friends. It has been approximately one month and thirteen days since my last update. We’re getting into a more almost-monthly schedule of updates at the moment, it seems. How lovely. I have a couple of things to share, announce, and what-have-you.
Firstly, I handed in my very first solicited story last week. Very exciting. The project has been announced and there is a cover—but I’m going to talk more about it nearer the time. I know, I’m a tease. This week, I also received an exciting reprint-related email, and I’m absolutely fizzing to talk about it, but alas, I cannot. I know. I am still a tease.
Secondly, I am almost halfway through my final edits on the novel. Soon, I will bully a couple of unfortunate souls (read: lovely, kind, wonderful writing friends) into reading it, and then—then—it’s to the query trenches for me while I tentatively begin writing book 2. Did I mention it’s a duology? No? It’s a duology. I’ve also foolishly, recklessly signed myself up (attempt to) to write a novella in July alongside a bunch of writing friends. July, which is often my busiest month, because I am glutton for punishment, apparently. It was a moment of “Sure, why not?”-ism that I may come to regret. We shall see.
Now, onto the actual purpose of this post. Yesterday was National Flash Fiction Day! Every year, FlashFlood publishes a bucket-load (understatement of the year) of excellent flash fiction to mark the occasion. This year, that included a sad little story about grief and sweets by yours truly…
When the arrivals board blinks out again, Audra is still eating pear drops. She lets them melt on her tongue, the sugary coating smoothing, the way Lola liked—likes—to. Pear drops are Lola’s favourite.
In other news, a very exciting project has recently been teased over on the former big blue bird app. I can’t wait to tell you more about this one, edited by the ever-fantastic TJ Price, but I will because (say it with me, now): I am very much still a tease.
Cross the threshold with us, November 2024. We’ll be waiting.
There’s a very particular joy that comes with a story you love finding not one but two homes—that two editors read your work and thought, “Yes, I want to put that out into the world.” It’s a great privilege to be able to share my weird little wordcreatures with the world, and reprints make me just as giddy as new publications.
“Girl in Glass, Brightly” (previously published in Spirit Machine) has made its digital debut in Gamut Magazine, and I am delighted. I mean, look at that cover.
Elspeth knows about wanting—that it aches in your gut, white-hot, burning, and cools just as fast, into something solid as stone but frail to the touch. Not like Annabelle, beautiful Annabelle, who knows only about getting—how light it is, how easy.
—ELOU CARROLL, “GIRL IN GLASS, BRIGHTLY”, GAMUT MAGAZINE
If you would like to read it, you can do so here. A monthly subscription is just $5.50—this issue has eleven brilliant pieces, that’s 50 cents a piece. Bargain.
I’m not sure I quite understand how we’re already nearly in the fifth month of 2024. I don’t know where this year has gone thus far, but I do know that I have done a lot of writing, which is lovely. This includes finishing the Final Rewrite™ of the final, really, really final draft of the novel. I have a number of comments and inline notes to address, and then that’s it. It’s done.
This is a terrifying prospect.
It has been mine and only mine since I first started writing it in 2019. One day soon, that might change. I say it again: terrifying.
In less terrifying news, I have a new publication to share!
My flash fiction “Clack Clack Clack” was released yesterday by the wonderful Maudlin House.
In this story, you will find: strained mother–daughter relationships, a completely normal typewriter, and a haunting. Maybe.
As is customary, a snippet…
In Etta’s wardrobe there is a typewriter. She can hear the clack clack clack ping! while she tries to sleep. In her dreams, its ribbons coil her up and smudge her skin midnight blue with ink—Mother always had preferred that colour.
I had been holding on to this acceptance for such a long time, and then I went and missed updating my site when it came out. Terrible behaviour. Bad job, me. This story was accepted by the excellent Fred Coppersmith of Kaleidotrope all the way back in 2021! It’s one of my oldest short stories, and one of my favourites.
“Black Tea, Cream Tea, Chocolate Tea, Blood” began its life in March 2017 as a response to a prompt during a prompt challenge with my best friend and often-creative partner in crime, wherein we wrote a paragraph or two in response to a prompt and swapped at the end of the day. We came up with the prompts ourselves, and this one later became the title. It was a much shorter, and quite a different beast back then. It makes me want to go back and look at the rest, see if there’s anything else worth mining.
After considerable rewrites and a couple o’ thousand more words, this story grew, and I love it a lot.
You can expect:
☕️tea ☕️a good wife ☕️yearning ☕️retribution, or good, old-fashioned matricide
Every so often I get a bit overwhelmed with life and completely forget my website exists, even though it has existed in some form or another for approximately forever (read: about 12–15 years). So this is the first in a few (hopefully) quick-fire catch-up posts. Hooray.
Hello.
How are you? I’ve been in a wordcave recently—which is a wonderful place to be—attempting to finish the absolutely-frickin’-final-and-I-mean-final draft of the novel (while also being a little bit terrified of the absolutely-frickin’-final-and-I-mean-final draft of the novel). Though not entirely chronological yet, I have over half of it in a serviceable condition thanks to NaNoWriMo (forum controversies aside, I don’t actually use the website anymore, so have only seen snippets of that whole mess), and hope to get the rest of it spruced up by the end of the year. Will I do it? Who knows! Let’s find out, shall we?
We are, of course, ignoring the fact that I wanted to do this last year, but—I mentioned the terror, right? Cross your extremities for me, my friends.
From non-writing-related update land (well, sort of): You might have noticed that the website has had a little bit of a spruce too. It wasn’t entirely intentional. The problem with using templates on WordPress is that, sometimes, you go to edit the site you’ve had for a good while now only to find that the template you used no longer exists. Lovely. As it happens, I quite like what I’ve ended up with—at least for now. I have, however, made a mental note not to go into the customise or what-have-you interface for Crow & Cross Keys, just in case. That site is immaculate—if I do say so myself—and I would like it to stay that way. I will stick to editing the pages and creating posts, thank you very much. Speaking of CCK, you should read it. There’s some really great stuff on the site and in the schedule, and you don’t want to miss it.
Now to the exciting portion of the post: the publication news.
Back in—checks notes—Oh, God. May. Has it really been that long? Clearly, it has and I am terrible.
Ahem.
Back in May, I posted about the pre-order for The First Five Minutes of the Apocalypse. That brilliant, devastating anthology is now out and available to buy (and has been out for quite some time, Elou). I adore this anthology, and I’m not just saying that because I’m in it, though that is also a plus. I read this in two sittings. I don’t normally read anthologies in two sittings, even if I’m in them. If you want to be destroyed in many different ways, pick up a copy. (Also available on Amazon.)
As is customary, a snippet:
“Honey, wake up.” Giulia cannot hear herself speak. “Baby. Lenore. Come on, Lenny. It’s time. It’s time. Len. Lenore. Lenore.”
Giulia shakes her now. Her fingers, still red, sink into Lenore’s pyjamas and pull so hard the material rips. But Giulia doesn’t stop and before she knows it she’s screaming. She can hear that. It’s not her, though. It cannot be her. It is an animal and the animal is in pain.
They put them down, animals that sound like that.
— ELOU CARROLL, “DIRT AND BLOOD AND SILENCE”, THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES OF THE APOCALYPSE
elou carroll 