 Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
Hello, my name is Haralambi Markov and I’m a Bulgarian-born writer working in English. I also work as an editor here and there, and when I’m not writing I create collages. I’m on a very slow quest to try every single art form. Hopefully, I’ll end in my 70s. I’ve been writing weird and horrific stories for the past 15 years, and am putting out my first short story collection The Language of Knives: Stories on July 7, 2026 from Mythic Delirium Books. What drew you to the horror genre? I didn’t come into writing horror until way, way later into my writing journey, having been raised on works by Pratchett and Tolkien in translation. My fascination with high fantasy didn’t last long and my interests slowly shifted towards dark fantasy and urban fantasy, then weird fiction and horror. Horror has been much more present in my life as a viewer. There’s nothing quite like getting scared out of your skin and it’s that catharsis that brings me back to the genre. I love how light I feel after a good scare and I wanted to chase the same release in my own fiction. If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? I’m so torn on what to choose! Ultimately, I’d say Queer for Fear, which is a documentary series that interviews horror creators and explores the history of queerness in horror across literature and film. As someone based outside the United States, I had a challenging time educating myself on queer horror for quite some time. I’d pick up bits and pieces from online spaces, but Queer for Fear feels like a proper education. It’s four episodes from Carmen Maria Machado to Peaches Christ. What are some areas of queer horror you think are under-explored? I would say horror that’s not solely rooted in our trauma as queer people, but rather horror that befalls characters who happen to be gay. I say this as someone who has explored trauma related to queerness in my fiction. I am well aware that living in a violent world doesn’t really predispose towards decentering homophobia in our narratives, and there’s a lot of power in processing such experiences in horror. I have included queer joy in my collection The Language of Knives before the horror kicks in. If we’re talking about genre, I’d like more zombie fiction with queer representation. What do you find scary within the horror genre? Ghosts and body horror aside, I find the uncertainty in reality and truth utterly chilling. The idea of safety anywhere (be it in your home, or mind, or body) being completely compromised terrifies me, especially when there’s not much you can do about it but figure out how to survive. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? I’m going to go with advice that I’ve been given. Read your contemporaries and read your predecessors. There’s such power to knowing where you belong in the context of queer and queer-coded horror. As a horror fan in a small country, the only easily accessible horror media I’ve had prior to the Internet have been blockbusters and old movies that would occasionally find their way on late night cable TV. Certainly nothing queer. Right now, we’re privileged to live in a time when we can find queer narratives with ease, but that wasn’t always the case and might not always be the case with the way the political pendulum swings. It’s important to know each other and keep a record of each other’s work. Where can folks find you these days? I mostly stay away from online spaces, but you can find me on Facebook and Instagram. Bio: Haralambi Markov is a Bulgarian fiction writer and editor with a background in content creation. They were the first ever Bulgarian to be accepted to attend the Clarion Writers’ Workshop in 2014. Their short story “The Language of Knives” was long-listed for the Nebula award for Best Short Story and their essay “My Father, My Private Monster” made it onto the Stoker long list for non-fiction in 2025. Their work has appeared in Reactor, Uncanny Magazine, Evil in Technicolor, Weird Fiction Review, Stories for Chip, Eurasian Monsters and Fractured Reveries. They were part of the team of BonFIYAH 2021. Their debut short story collection, The Language of Knives: Stories, is scheduled to come out on July 7, 2026 from Mythic Delirium Books.
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 Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
Hey! My name's Taylor Z. Adams (she/they) and I'm a transbian horror author hailing from Toledo, OH! I've primarily found my footing in the splatterpunk subgenre, but above all else, I write things that are weird and aggressively queer. What drew you to the horror genre? Horror is something that I've been around my entire life, so there's always been a natural draw to it. My dad used to be on the crew for a lot of low-budget B-movie slashers, my mom is a huge zombie buff, and my older sibling had a big collection of Goosebumps books that I used to steal growing up. I've loved horror for as long as I can remember; I pretty much had no other choice! If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? Narrowing it down to one choice is brutal. It's a toss up for me between the film I Saw The TV Glow and the book Exquisite Corpse by Poppy Z. Brite. Both had profound impacts on me as a trans person, with Exquisite Corpse in particular being the reason I decided to become a writer. What positive changes have you seen happening in the horror community regarding LGBTQIA+ creators and content and what are some areas the community can still improve? In recent years, I've noticed a lot more people are willing to listen to queer voices, and the voices of other marginalized groups in general. It feels like there's less of a divide between "normal" horror and "queer" horror, made by queer people. More cisgender and heterosexual people have checked out my work and raved about it than I ever anticipated, which I'm super grateful for! However, I do still feel that people like to unintentionally "other" us. While I think a lot of people's hearts are in the right place, I see a lot of lists like "trans authors you should check out", and then a list of "women authors you should check out" a few weeks later, and very rarely are trans women included in that list. To be a bit silly, it sometimes feels like "there's male authors, there's female authors, and then there's the gays," which is something I feel the community as a whole can be better about. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? Be bold. Times are tough right now for the LGBTQ+ community, and it's more important than ever to speak out and be visible. The world is actively trying to silence us, so don't let them. Your story deserves to be told, and your voice deserves to be heard. Where can folks find you these days? You can primarily find me on FaceBook! Just look up Taylor Z. Adams and add me as a friend, if you'd like. Or follow me on Instagram @tayloradamsbooks! Bio: Taylor Z. Adams (she/they) writes horror that's strange, gay, and emotionally unwell. Their work explores the queer experience, grief, obsession, identity, trauma—or anything else that might be considered upsetting. When not writing about emotionally unhinged girls, Taylor can be found drinking too much coffee, blushing over sapphic romances, moshing at hardcore punk shows, or posting cryptic nonsense on social media. If you enjoy their work, light a candle and perform a blood ritual as an offering ... or just follow her on social media: @tayloradamsbooks Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
My name is Temple, but writing-wise I go by TT Madden (they/she). I've always been writing, and always been writing horror, but the first big horror thing I actually put out into the world was my work on two "seasons" of a Blair Witch tabletop game. That was a ton of fun to make, but also really made me want to shy away from anything big budget or "Hollywoody" and just do my own thing and write for myself without getting caught up in studio-esque nonsense. Since then I've been writing my own books (currently seven, including one with Timber Ghost Press, with four more in the pipe). I write a lot about the intersections of my own identity (trans, mixed-race) always with some weird, surreal horror thrown in there. What drew you to the horror genre? I always loved Goosebumps and other spooky stuff for kids like The Addams Family, and the weird parts of kids movies always freaked me out and fascinated me, like nightmare or the air conditioning unit in The Brave Little Toaster. Old horror movies like the original Universal Monsters were also something I could watch with my family since they were a little more "appropriate." But then I watched The Mummy in theaters at nine years old and that was really all she wrote (yes, of course, I am also bisexual, pretty sure that was in the fine print when I got the ticket). I still love everything genre-related, but since then horror has always been my main one. If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? There's obviously a ton of excellent modern horror, but for a personal recommendation I'd have to reach back in time to The Old Dark House for a few reasons. First, because it's one of James Whale's most underseen films, and also to show that queerness has always been around, it's certainly not a new phenomenon. It was before the strictest implementation of the Hays Code, but definitely plays with the time's queer coding. It also subverts expectations in some interesting ways. When folks look back at the LGBTQIA+ movement of today’s day and age, what do you think the defining characteristic will be? I think it will be defined by resilience and transgression, especially in horror prose and poetry. In the last few years I feel like there have been crazy-radical jumps in horror creators pushing the envelope to its absolute limit. Film is moving a little slower (which is natural). Every few months there's something new and wild that gets everyone talking, like an I Saw the TV Glow. But with horror books it seems like they're just getting absolutely cranked out every week. We're getting stuff like We Are Always Tender With Our Dead or You Were Never Meant to Be Human with a frankly delicious regularity, and it's all insane, groundbreaking stuff. And I think that makes a ton of sense. Right now queerphobia of all kinds is at an all-time high, especially with this administration, where simple existence is a sin, and the president is actively threatening us with death. Queer people (like any minority) already have to fight twice as hard to take up half as much space, and now with even more vitriol aimed against us, it's clearly coming out in the art we're making. What are some areas of queer horror you think are under-explored? There's a questioning and a certain kind of ambiguity that I'd like to see more in the genre. Very often there are stories of queer characters who are out and fighting oppression of one kind or another or on a journey to discover their own queerness, whatever that may be. But I haven't seen a lot of horror where a character experiments and finds out X or Y isn't for them. Maybe a character wonders if they're gay, and decides they're not, they're bisexual, or maybe just straight, but they needed that experimental room to find out. There's a lot of certainty to queerness in modern horror, which makes sense, and I think a little more ambiguity in our characters is okay. Hell, it took me until I was almost thirty to start using they/them pronouns, and five years later that I finally understood I was actually trans. What do you find scary within the horror genre? My personal biggest fear in horror is mass hysteria. Blood, guts, twisted monsters, anything else I'm basically cool. But any time there's a crowd of people that are going nuts, that gets too real for me. The scariest part of The Mist for sure. Touched By Shadows by Vaughn Jackson and Brom's Slewfoot both have mass paranoia stuff in them that made those books really hard for me to finish. There's even a part in the new Fantastic Four that got me. But for some reason I don't seem to be super affected by zombies. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? I would say to not chase a trend, and to make something that is uniquely you. You see it in every field, but in this current horror boom it's been much more obvious. One of the most recent ones is how in 2024 there was an absolute onslaught of announced Steamboat Willie horror when the character entered the public domain. In film you can see everyone chasing that sweet, sweet Terrifier cash with characters that are just Art the Clown with the serial numbers filed off. On the prose side extreme horror is a huge genre which a ton of presses call for, but then say "Oh, we actually don't want [several extreme things that are part of the extreme horror genre]." All of it has a sort of clout-chasing air to it, where you can tell people aren't passionate about it, they're just following what's cool. So, as cliche as it may seem, I'd say create the thing that only you could create, something you're passionate about. The worst thing a piece of art can do is make you feel bored. There's nothing like experiencing a piece of art that'll make you go "Oh, shit, this person really has some feels about this." Where can folks find you these days? People can find me on my website, ttmaddenwrites.carrd.co, or on Instagram and Bluesky as @ttmaddenwrites Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
I'm Jes Malitoris, a trans-enby horror and dark fantasy author from Durham, NC. I am an affiliate HWA member, active in the Carolinas chapter, and a reader for the horror lit mag Necksnap. I also have a recently launched writing craft blog that isn't specific to horror writers, per say, but I definitely am planning posts from the perspective of a writer interested in how to create tension or effective horror. My short fiction has been published in multiple horror and specfic lit mags, such as Cosmic Horror Monthly and The Skull & Laurel, and in anthologies from Crystal Lake and Neon Hemlock. I'll also be talking about non-binary authors in horror at StokerCon and have an upcoming panel on queer horror at home in Durham next month! What drew you to the horror genre? Like so many people, The Mummy (1999) changed my life. I was only 9 when it came out so I wasn't allowed to watch it until it came out on DVD, and even then I was required to watch the "behind the scenes" sections with my dad so I could see clearly that it wasn't real. 20 minutes into the BTS I demanded to watch the actual movie because it looked so cool, and I was right. From there, I started investigating more classic monsters on my own and stumbled on The Blair Witch Project, and I still don't know why my parents let me watch it ALONE at only 12. By then I was totally hooked on the rollercoaster feeling that horror could provide, especially films that focused on tension rather than jump scares. It only dawned on my a few years ago to try writing it, but I love how it challenges me and lets me be the weirdest version of myself. What positive changes have you seen happening in the horror community regarding LGBTQIA+ creators and content and what are some areas the community can still improve? My dad and I do a two-person horror book club together, and one of the cool things has been literally accidentally reading almost exclusively queer horror. I feel so lucky that there is so much glorious and wonderful queer and genderqueer horror out there. On the other hand, I've seen the conversation about bisexual people not actually being queer or bisexuality not even being real AGAIN. IT SUCKS. It really sucks to get that reaction from within the queer community. This is not exclusive to the horror community but it comes up again and again with regard to who gets to write queer stories, and whether their queerness is enough. Truly, these kinds of reactions from other queer people are why I did not call myself bisexual until I was 28 despite experiencing attraction to women from a young age (HELLO!!?!?! THE MUMMY!?!?!) because I believed that those people had more knowledge of queerness than I did and if they said I couldn't be bisexual, then I guess I wasn't. And then seeing it again with non-binary identity. These perspectives are incredibly hurtful and damaging, and I find that in a genre with so much potential to exceed the bounds of reality it is particularly confusing and disappointing. What do you find scary within the horror genre? Very few horror books scare me, but one of the things that I love so much about horror is that there is a whole spectrum of emotions to seek out from creators. Fear and tension, horror and disgust, and even joy and catharsis. I don't tend to find a lot "scary" in books, but I thrive off brutal tension. T. Kingfisher's What Moves the Dead has a scene in it that gave me chills because the scene was so tense, as did the climax of Mariko Koike's The Graveyard Apartment. The entirety of Jeff VanderMeer's Authority made me outright paranoid. I have a special place in my heart for body horror, especially as a nonbinary author with a difficult relationship with my own body. A book that lives rent-free in my head and has substantially influenced my own writing of and thinking about body horror is Jade Song's Chlorine. It has an incredible trans allegory and a scene that made me feel sick, but in a way that was deeply powerful and, oddly enough, positive. It made me realize the difference between gore that is focused on the dehumanization of the human body and other forms of body horror in which the horror is about the relationship of the reader and/or character to their body. When it comes to writing horror, I try to pursue these two angles: tension and anxiety, and the character's relationship to their body. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? Let yourself be weird. The flourishing of indie horror really has created incredible possibilities for horror writers. Don't hold yourself back by being worried about whether you'll find an audience. Horror is a genre that I believe lends itself to queer writing, not just in terms of sexuality/gender but in terms of the kind of worldview that is slippery, that resists, that refuses a clear definition. Seize it! Where can folks find you these days? I am on Instagram/Threads (@JesWritesHorror), X, and Bluesky (@JesWrites). I am also working on some more posts for my writing craft blog, where I most recently posted about how to identify scam emails and basics of developing writerly voice. In person, I have a whole bunch of appearances coming up at StokerCon and locally! I have a few exciting announcements I'm sitting on, so I definitely recommend that folks follow me on social media, where I post most of my updates.  Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
I am a gay novelist, playwright, and educator, currently living in Missoula, Montana, where I am the director of theatre at Hellgate High School. I have always been obsessed with horror, ever since I was very wee and fell in love with the Wicked Witch of the West, followed by the American Werewolf in London, all the Gremlins, and then every vampire in every film and novel ever. Growing up, I wished and wished for queer leading characters in the horror novels and movies I imbibed while telling myself that, one day, I'd write the stories I wish existed. That's what I'm fortunate enough to do now. I am the author of Black Forest from Inkshares, about a young gay man who sees disturbing visions of dead people and falls in love with a dude at college who may or may not be a demon (so, pretty typical university experience); Haunt Me, Then, from Horrorsmith, what I've dubbed "Big Gay Montana Wuthering Heights" with a soupcon of Hitchcock's Vertigo, and where I truly dived into my passion for creating what I call "Montana Gothic," a genre specific to the empty plains and rotted, abandoned homestead that litter the prairie; adaptations of Dracula and Frankenstein from Theatrefolk; and, ta da, coming this year from Timber Ghost: There's No Such Thing as a School for Witches, where I explore queer wrath. And witchcraft. What drew you to the horror genre? The Wicked Witch of the West showed up on television one Thanksgiving when I was three or four during an annual rerun of The Wizard of Oz, and I was immediately like: where is the woman and how can I become her best friend? She was terrifying and loud, and I was terrifying and loud (or maybe just loud), and she really coveted those Ruby Slippers, which I longed for as well (and which my mother replicated for me for my birthday one year). I discovered Stephen King soon after, when I was seven and my mother was reading 'Salem's Lot, illustrated with photos from the 1979 made-for-TV adaptation. Included was a photo of Reggie Nalder as the rat-befanged Mr. Barlow, and I demanded to know more about him and every other monster in the world. Not long after that, my best friend loaned me a tape they'd recorded from the Movie Channel that included An American Werewolf in London and Silver Bullet, which ushered in my obsession with (and, to this day, intense fear of) werewolves. I wrote to Stephen King not long after, encouraged by my fabulous mother, and asked him straight up for a copy of Cycle of the Werewolf, the novelette on which Silver Bullet is based. Knowing full well I was a Montana second grader, King sent me an autographed copy of both novel and screenplay, (which got me featured in the local paper, by the by). The next summer Fright Night awakened strange stirrings within me after I highly enjoyed the scene where Jerry the vampire seduces lonely horror-obsessed teen Evil Ed, and I was off to the vampire races (The Lost Boys didn't hurt either). Witches, werewolves, and vampires: my unholy triumvirate, and the reason I'm answering these questions today. What do you find scary within the horror genre? The disintegration of personality terrifies and fascinates me; it's the reason Shirley Jackson is my favorite author. I read The Haunting of Hill House in high school, and while, yes, the ghosts (or whatever) haunting Hill House are freaky, Eleanor, the protagonist, and how she deals (or doesn't) with the reality crumbling around her is the scariest thing of all. Also, homophobic, racist, xenophobic people in small towns (Jackson depicted these American fiends quite well indeed); I grew up with them, they scare the hell out of me to this day, but they're also the monsters behind the townspeople in No Such Thing as a School for Witches, so I probably owe them a dedication in the page before the title page or something. People who lose their personalities and become something else scare me quite thoroughly as well (see The Stepford Wives, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and 'Salem's Lot). They look like who they say they are, or who they used to be, but they aren't that person anymore; also, whatever special attributes and personality quirks and peccadillos that made them who they were are gone. I like who I am; I like my quirks and peccadillos; to lose all of them while still looking like myself and probably being enslaved by an evil, higher power is the scariest idea of all. Also, werewolves. Werewolves freak me out. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? Write what you want to read. Don't be afraid (well, maybe be afraid of the content you're creating; after all, if you can't scare yourself, who can you scare?). Use your experiences: you are unique and valuable. Don't be afraid of not being perceived as universal. Don't be afraid to be niche. Ask yourself: what are your goals for writing? What do you want to accomplish? And do you maybe want more than that? Are you ready for the public eye? Have a routine. Set aside a specific time to write and do not let anyone take that away from you, especially not yourself. Turn off social media while you write (I need to be better at this one). You have a story to tell and no one else can tell it like you. There are not enough queer voices. Let yours be heard. Where can folks find you these days? You can find me at @bylaramiedean on Instagram. My website is bylaramiedean.com, and you can check out my novels and plays and even procure them for yourself if you choose; I've also stocked it full of photos and videos and other cool minutiae for you to explore.  Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre. I am a playwright and author who works in themed entertainment, which means I get to ride rollercoasters as part of my day job. My ancestry is European and Native American (Cherokee and Chickahominy decent). I’m fascinated with my ancestors and enjoy hanging out with them at night in their burial grounds. Love living in my hometown of Los Angeles with my wife and our two dogs, Harry and Agatha. My Beckett Coven book series starts this September from Rowan Prose Publishing with Whispers of the Pale Witch. The second book, Lies of the Bishop Stone, comes out in 2027. Working on the third one right now. Hopefully we can get that out to readers in 2028. The Beckett Coven series was born from the discovery that I am a Salem Witch Trials descendant. That means my ancestors were either accused, accusers, or part of the court proceedings during the Massachusetts witch panic of 1692. Unfortunately, my family were solidly on the accuser side. I also have a couple of tenth great-grandparents who took part in the witch mark search on June 2nd, 1692. My MC, Kylie Beckett, is a twenty-four-year-old queer, mixed-race forensic photographer, who returns to her birthplace of Salem, Massachusetts. She wants to learn more about the disappearance of her mother decades ago. Instead she discovers that some secrets are best kept buried and no one can escape the whispers of the Pale Witch. What drew you to the horror genre? I mean I’ve been scaring people for years. My first one-act play was about Jack the Ripper. A few years ago, I published an updated version of it, Black Mary, that’s even more terrifying and off the rails than the first one. I guess I became creepier as I got older. My favorite part about that play when we put it on at my university, California Lutheran University, was watching the whole audience lean forward, completely engaged in the action of the two characters. But after Jack kills his victim, he turns around and breaks the fourth wall with the audience. We did it with a wraparound staging, which made the effect even more unnerving. As he gives his last few lines, he stalks the audience. It was fascinating watching all of them unconsciously lean back as he did this. For me as a horror playwright and author, that was gold. It let me know I did my job. When I decided to write a novel series, of course I went straight to a horror/thriller storyline. This time the horror was revolved around witch trials and baneful witchcraft. If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? I love the Morbid podcast. Ash, one of the cohosts, is queer and has a trans husband, so they do lean very queer friendly and it’s spooky as hell. Also, the Circle Is Podcast is a very queer friendly witchy podcast that I just adore. Occult author and tarotist, Mat Auryn, and the one and only Rachel True (The Craft) talking all things witchy and Tarot. What more could you want? What positive changes have you seen happening in the horror community regarding LGBTQIA+ creators and content and what are some areas the community can still improve? I’m new to the queer horror book scene, so I’m probably not the best person to answer this question. I was pleasantly surprised that there is a queer horror sub-genre. I’m a queer author and the Beckett Coven series has queer characters in it, but I wanted my characters to primarily be interesting people, who just happen to be queer, as opposed to them needing to be queer in order to tell the story. Although there are a few queer-specific moments in it, for the most part my books are about someone coming out as a witch as opposed to someone coming out as queer. Which I guess is a bit of a metaphor for queer folks. When folks look back at the LGBTQIA+ movement of today’s day and age, what do you think the defining characteristic will be? That we didn’t give up. I am old enough now to have lived through a time when it was absolutely not okay for anyone to come out. Now I’m married to a wonderful wife and we have a great life together. If you had told me when I was a teenager that’s how my life would be in my fifties, I would have said you were nuts. Tremendous progress has been made, but we are living in a time where nothing is truly permanent. Everything is on the table to be rolled back to a time when we didn’t have the rights and freedoms that we have today. Some things have already been taken away. Unfortunately, that censoring movement may continue, and if it does, we have to continue to fight against it. Being out and visible and not in the closet makes it much harder to pretend we don’t exist. What are some areas of queer horror you think are under-explored? I’m interested in queer characters just being everyday characters as opposed to an anomaly or a stereotype. Several of my characters just happen to be gay, but the story they are part of would still be the same story whether they were queer or not. There are a couple of subplots in the first book that are queer in nature. One character’s past causes her to be unable to act with a clear mind when she needs to. What happened to her is because she’s queer. Just like in the Salem Witch Trials, she was othered and put into a bad situation. To me there are many real-life situations that queer folks have gone through that can be turned into horror. Conversion therapy is absolutely something that can be explored further as a queer horror motif. It’s not actual “therapy”. It’s just something awful that’s inflicted on our community. I went through a light version of it when I was young. All it did was delay me coming out of the closet. It didn’t change who I am. Unfortunately, many young people are still being forced into it. What do you find scary within the horror genre? People scarier than monsters. That’s what I leaned into in the Beckett Coven series. My villain is just a regular human being, but how she handles her past trauma and becomes a demon herself is far more frightening to me than any kind of monster. My mother suffered from mental illness. She was nowhere near what my villain is, but how her illness affected her was also no walk in the park, either. There are definitely lived experiences that colored how I wrote and talked about mental illness in this book series. The Salem Witch Trials were also terrifying. What the accusers did to their neighbors was awful. We often look at the witch trials from the point of view of the girls being afflicted by the accused “witches”. In reality, it was the afflicted girls and the adults, who enabled, encouraged, and conspired with them, either consciously or unconsciously, were the monstrous and evil ones not the people they accused. They were the true devils in Salem. There’s a psychological concept called violent innocence in which a person or group of people use righteous reasons to do something terrible for the good of the community. That’s exactly what went on in Salem. One can argue that we haven’t come that far from three hundred years ago. The truly terrifying thing for me was to discover that my ancestors were one of two families who did most of the accusing during the first four months of the witch trials. Their complaints resulted in a couple dozen deaths and almost a hundred more victims losing their minds and going into debt because of being thrown into prison for months on end. In the case of my Ingersoll family, they were considered by their neighbors to be moderate and respectable people. Even “good” people can be monsters. Who are some queer content creators in horror you think more people should discover? I hope these are people folks already know about. Rob Costello is a Lamda Award winning author and editor of We Mostly Come Out At Night. I love anthologies. They’re a great quick read, especially something spooky right before bed, when I don’t have a lot of time at the end of the day. (Yes, I know I’m weird that way.) Jessica Drake-Thomas wrote Hollow Girls. People disappearing into the woods with a magical element. I’m all over that. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? Keep writing no matter what. Writing is a compulsion for me. I’ve been doing it since I was six (if you believe my mother). You get better at it over time. Sometimes you ebb and flow from it, but I’ve always come back to a story when it was ripe to write. People love to be scared. Either on roller coasters, in a movie theater, or while reading a book. There will always be room for scary stories to haunt our minds. Find what scares you the most and have the guts to write about it. Where can folks find you these days? My website is beckettcoven.com. I have a hunt you can go on and find the spooky locations in Whispers of the Pale Witch, along with a character page and event notifications. You can also find me on Insta, Threads, TikTok, Bluesky, X, Substack, and YouTube @beckettcoven. On Facebook, I started a Beckett Coven Readers group where I’m hoping we can have lively discussions after the first book comes out this September. Good Reads and BookBub are also places you can catch me and my book series. Shall we begin? Bio: Drawn to theater from an early age, S.A. Sizemore began writing professionally while studying theater arts in college. After producing several plays regionally in Southern California, Sizemore pivoted to the themed entertainment industry. Whispers of the Pale Witch is the first installment of the Beckett Coven series and inspired by Sizemore’s ancestral connection to the Salem Witch Trials. She is a full member of the Dramatists Guild of America, a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community, and resides in California with her wife and two dogs, Agatha and Harry. www.beckettcoven.com @beckettcoven (socials)Whispers of the Pale Witch pre-order link: https://books2read.com/u/4EvXVY Goodreads: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1432502558353371/   Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
I have gone by many names in my life, but the one I presently write under is LB Waltz. I enjoy flowers and bones and demons and biblically accurate angels. And while the bit would suggest adding “walks along the beach” to this list, I don’t actually care much for the beach at all. Not big on sand, me. Or being wet. “Sand” and “wet” are textural nightmares. Speaking of nightmares, my contributions to the horror genre include SUNNY DAYS, a novella ostensibly about Aztec gods, and UNDERNEATH THE PERSIMMON TREE, a short story collection featuring weird fruit, a surprising number of birds, and a sapphic poltergeist/witch romance. What drew you to the horror genre? I am a deeply anxious person who yearns for control. I’m sure many can relate. Being able to work through the worst “what-if” scenarios my brain can conjure while maintaining godlike control of the outcome can be quite therapeutic. If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? The Magnus Archives. I live for deeply complex, interconnected stories featuring casual queer representation. What positive changes have you seen happening in the horror community regarding LGBTQIA+ creators and content and what are some areas the community can still improve? I can’t say with any authority if there’s been an uptick in queer stories being published, but I do think queer stories are being more loudly promoted. For ages, it felt like the only place one could reliably find queer stories was in manga or in fanfiction forums; nowadays, there are lists and dedicated imprints that are helping readers discover things that were once released much more quietly. It’s an improvement, for sure! In my mind, the next step is encouraging people to read more diverse queer stories. More is more, when it comes to representation. And personally, I’d like to see more than the same two or three authors on the shelves when I go to the bookstore and library. What do you find scary within the horror genre? Audience inability to separate fiction from reality. The death of media literacy. Pervasive puritanical values, and the bizarre belief held by some that authors and readers condone/approve of atrocious acts or horrible behaviors simply because they appear in a story. Where can folks find you these days? If you give the ol’ LinkTree a shake, I might fall out of its branches. Bio: LB Waltz has been publishing creative works for over 20 years under various pseudonyms. They enjoy taking walks, studying mythologies, and reading about botanical folklore. Find them enjoying SUNNY DAYS while UNDERNEATH THE PERSIMMON TREE, or on bluesky @balmroomdance.  I skulk among the roots and fallen branches of ancient trees. My hackles rise at the scent of fungal growth and decay. This is my dark forest and I am its wicked wolf. The mice and rabbits scurry from my presence. They know their fate if they dare linger when I’m hunting. But such tiny rodents would only satisfy the hunger I feel for a short time. I seek larger prey, for the pit of my stomach is deep and hollow. My ears prick up and I raise my snout. The birds’ chirping falls silent and a different song fills the forest. And with it a current flows through the air. Sweet. Red. I can taste it. Strawberries. My prey is near. My tongue lolls from between my teeth, my paws quicken, drawing me closer to that luring scent. Saliva drip, drip, drips as I make my way. I find her path, follow the footsteps she’s left in the muddy track. I listen to her soft song and take in the rich smell of strawberries that linger where she treads. Her red cloak billows up ahead. I rush down the path and prepare to pounce, to swallow her whole, to fill that hollow belly of mine and end the gnawing hunger within. But something isn’t right. She turns, freezing me in my tracks. Clear blue eyes and rosy cheeks greet me. She pops a strawberry into her mouth, chews and smiles, red dripping from her chin. “Naughty, naughty wolf.” She wags her red-stained finger at me. My jaw is ready to snap. Bite those little fingers right off. But all that I can muster is a guttural growl. “This isn’t how our story goes.” She pulls another strawberry from her basket and bites down on its soft, red flesh. My hunger grows and I want to lash out but I cannot. The clear blue sky above the treetops ripples and shimmers. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I… I shake off the wrongness that comes over me and watch the girl place a large rock into her basket. I try to open my mouth, to question the girl, but my throat tightens. My teeth clench as I stare at the girl. Her lips stretch into a wide grin, more wicked than mine ever could. “It’s simple, really. Off to grandmother’s house I go.” She lifts another rock into her basket. “We meet and you go on ahead. Then we meet again. That’s what happens every time. Forever and ever.” A shiver runs down my spine, my fur bristles and I’m overcome with cold. A rushing sensation is all around me, everything I see is blue and I cannot move beneath the rushing stream. I drag in deep lungfuls of air and look back at the girl, her fingers red and sticky. The endless pit that is my stomach growls in protest and dread. But there’s nothing I can do. This isn’t how our story goes. I turn to leave and bound into the woods. Her voice trails behind me, “See you soon.” # I find grandmother’s house. My very own footprints lead me there. They always do. The hollowness of my stomach has grown, yet I feel heavy and sluggish. I creep up to the open door, my belly dragging on the forest ground. Before I can announce my presence to trick the old woman, the scent of strawberries rushes over me. “There you are.” The girl sits at the kitchen table, her smile wide and full of teeth. “We’ve been waiting for you.” Her grandmother’s mouth stretches dark and terrible, mirroring her granddaughter’s. My legs quiver and I drop to the wooden floor. They grab my heavy body and lift me onto the bed, belly up. Too overcome with wrongness to speak, I whimper. They cackle as the girl heaves her basket onto the nightstand and her grandmother pulls large shears from beneath the bed. The girl opens her basket to reveal dozens of stones. “This isn’t how our story went the first time.” She takes the shears from her grandmother and jams them in my gut. She cuts—snip, snip, snip—as if my skin were nothing but cloth. I can only watch in shock as pain washes over me. She digs around and removes her hands, red and sticky. The scent of strawberries becomes too much to bear. I retch to no avail. “You see, this story of ours has long been over.” The girl begins lifting the stones from her basket to place them inside my stomach. “But it will never be over for you. You’re wicked and you must pay for your wicked ways.” I squirm but cannot get off the bed. Cold envelopes me and the stones in my belly drag me down, keeping me at the bottom of the stream. I cannot move. I can never leave my sins behind. “You’ve done this to yourself.” Grandmother dons her glasses and sews my belly up with tight stitches made of red thread. “You deserve every second of it.” The girl pulls me out of the bed. My limbs stiff, my belly heavy with stones. She leads me outside to the stream behind the house. Brings me to the edge. I don’t resist. I know she’s right. It’s too late for me to change. She shoves me into the rushing water. I sink down, unable to swim or move at all. I’m cold. The sky ripples above me through the rushing stream. All I can do is dream. Of my dark forest. Of my paws thudding along the damp earth. Of the sun setting through endless trees. Of the girl’s footprints in the mud and how I follow her scent of strawberries. (This tale originally appeared in Zooscape, Dec 2023.)  Kai Delmas loves creating worlds and magic systems. His fiction can be found in Utopia Science Fiction, Crepuscular, and several Shacklebound anthologies. His debut drabble collection, "Darkness Rises, Hope Remains," was published by Shacklebound Books. Support him at patreon.com/kaidelmas and find him at www.kaidelmas.com or on Bluesky @kaidelmas.bsky.social. And if you like his flash fiction and want more of it, take a look at these upcoming collections: www.amazon.com/dp/B0H1KJXQ79
 Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
Hiya, my name is M. Regan, and I am terrible at answering questions like this one. I simply don’t consider myself an interesting topic, haha. Having said that, I do contribute stories to the horror genre, and those stories are interesting! Arguably, my biggest and most interesting contribution was 21 GRAMS, since it was Timber Ghost Press’s first release. That makes me the proud eldest sibling of this publishing herd. What drew you to the horror genre? To be honest, I didn’t realize I enjoyed horror at all until I was in college. I had always known horror to be “blood porn and jump scares,” neither of which appealed to me; it took me far longer than it probably should have to appreciate that the dark fiction I love lives under the same umbrella. So, in my case, it’s not so much that I was knowingly “drawn to horror” as it is that I realized there’s horror in everything, if you think about it long enough. The call was coming from inside the house, as it were. If you could recommend one creation of horror that everyone should consume that is queer or queer coded, whether that be a book, podcast, movie, art, etc., what would you recommend? For many years now, I have been on a one-person mission to make everyone in the world read The Bartimaeus Sequence. That mission continues today. Not only is the series hilarious, horrifying, and heartbreaking in equal measure, it tackles ideas of disenfranchisement, government corruption, and exploitation in a deeply empathetic way. It’s got magic. It’s got footnotes. It’s got a snarky, gender-nonconforming djinn as its main character. And most notably, it’s got an author who does not use his earnings to fund awful legislation. Who are some queer content creators in horror you think more people should discover? Mokumokuren (The Summer Hikaru Died), LB Waltz (Sunny Days), Imaginary Comma (Thirteen). Where can folks find you these days? I’ve not been especially active, as the internet mostly makes me sad. But I do try to keep my website up to date, and there are links to my other social media there. Come say hi! Bio: M. Regan has been writing in various capacities for two decades, with credits ranging from localization work to short stories, poetry to podcast scripts. In addition to pieces in numerous anthologies, their novella 21 GRAMS was published by Timber Ghost Press in July of 2021, and their collection STORIES IN THE MINOR KEY was released by Sobelo Books in August 2025.  Tell us a little bit about yourself and how you contribute to the horror genre.
I’m an Australian author, editor, and publisher. I pretty much only contribute to the horror genre as I published queer horror through my press, Slashic Horror. I also write gay horror, and when I had my own editing business, I was specifically a horror editor. About me, personally, though? My pug is my best non-human friend, and tbh, he’s pretty high up the list when I count my human friends too 😂. I’m married to a gorgeous bear; probably the kindest person in existence, who has pushed me and supported me when I didn’t believe in myself. I love a good horror film, an avid reader when I get the chance, and an obsessive pug-cuddler. What drew you to the horror genre? I was such a fraidy cat when I was younger; a bed-wetter, nervous, terribly afraid of so many things I can’t even give examples. I grew up in an abusive household, though, so I think that had a lot to do with my perpetual sense of fear. So, when I was a teenager, I watched Scream—my first foray into horror. I had to sleep with the lights on. For me, that was not acceptable. I didn’t want to be so scared of a film that I was concerned Ghostface was real. So I began testing my limits, watching more and more horror, and I grew to absolutely love it. I also appreciate the gay coding that appears in horror, and how the history of horror has always been queer. I’ve found my place! What are some areas of queer horror you think are under-explored? With greater recognition of our non-binary and trans siblings, I have always thought there is still a lack of representation or exploration of bisexuality. I’ve seen the category of bi continue to be erased by people within our own community, which I find really strange and quite counterproductive. I would love to see more bi awareness and more of an acceptance that bisexual people exist—and that they belong, just as we all do. What do you find scary within the horror genre? This is a tricky one for me. I don’t find the typical tropes of ghosts, vamps, werewolves etc. to be overly scary. So I think for me it’s the themes that resonate with me on that really fearful level. At the moment, in my own writing, I am quite concerned with the nature of existence and reality, and the psychological elements of storytelling that come with that. So I guess for me, queering existence and notions of identity can be scary. Who are some queer content creators in horror you think more people should discover? There are so many. I will start with all of my Slashic family. If you don’t know who they are, just look at the Our Authors page on the website: https://www.slashichorrorpress.com/our-authors. There are so many wonderful, talented authors emerging every day and, admittedly, it is hard to keep up. But that page is a good start. I can really only speak to authors and book content, as that’s where I am the most comfortable in terms of queer creators. What advice would you give to the next generation of queer horror content creators coming into the horror genre? The world today is so toxic and can be so dangerous for an incredible amount of people in our community. Horror is one space where we can all belong and where we can draw on each other for support. I guess my main point of advice would be to stay authentic to yourself and write what you want to write. I’ve had friends and family tell me to “write straight” to get my foot in the door with trad publishers and agents—my response is to never compromise on what’s important to you. We are queer and our stories matter; writing those stories is one of the most valuable, meaningful things I have done in my writing career. Where can folks find you these days? I’m on almost every platform, but my LinkTree is probably the easiest way to find me: https://linktr.ee/djfletcher. Bio: David-Jack Fletcher is a gay Australian horror author, publisher, and editor, specialising in work that emphasises the everydayness of LGBTQI+ individuals. He is the Aurealis-nominated author of The Count, a vampiric novel centred on the evil that lurks within the earth itself. His other titles include the award-winning Raven’s Creek (Slashic), The Haunting of Harry Peck (Lethe Press), Hell is Other People: Stories (Lethe Press), Indentured (Truborn), He Will Have the World(Slashic) and the forthcoming Umbilical (Horrorsmith Publishing). David-Jack is also the founder of Slashic Horror Press, an emerging queer indie press focused on promoting under-represented voices—and stories—in horror and dark fiction. Since beginning in June 2023, Slashic Horror Press has released over 25 titles. For more details, visit the website here: https://www.slashichorrorpress.com/titles |
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