“Droggoth, droggoth, feer’in spew, hrottest feeri’n spew thote burn allyn sins awayn. Droggoth, droggoth, kommen hir to burn awoth allyn mine payn.” These lines from Altholm’s Morica attest to the existence of the droggoth, whose habitation, though unknown today, is likeliest deep beneath the boreal forests of Medgidia in south-easternContinue Reading

Alice found a white satin ring box, designed like a tiny treasure chest. She could not open the ring box, despite the serious effort she expended. “Inside this box,” murmured a newly appearing shadow, “is my shadow zoo. And it is beyond dazzling! Shadow-seahorses swimming shadow-seas, and shadow-silkworms spinning shadow-silk,Continue Reading

Coleman Stevenson is an illustrator, writer and tarot practitioner based in Portland, OR. She is the artist behind the Dark Exact Tarot Deck and the author of Breakfast: 43 Poems (Reprobate/GobQ Books, 2015) and The Accidental Rarefication of Pattern #5609 (bedouin books, 2012). Her poems have appeared in a variety of publications such as Paper Darts,Continue Reading

Sarah is a writer, folklorist, and filmmaker. Her short documentary film on the multiracial identity, “What Are You?,” was aired on Oregon Public Broadcast in 2015. She has presented her research at national academic conferences, and is currently working on a middle grade fantasy series based on Indonesian folklore. SheContinue Reading

      Oaktea has always been in love with every aspect of a book–from the design to its contents, everything contributes to the experience. She started making comics for the all-in-one art and words combination, and eventually started working in bookstores to feed her voracious habit, as well as herContinue Reading

Space exploration has ended. We’ve reached the end. Space is not infinitely expanding, though at one point we did think that. Space does have an end. I should know, I live there. I stretch out and my hands bump into the ceiling. This isn’t all that surprising; they said IContinue Reading

Mothers love astronaut boys. They salute their boys and button their shirts. These boys choosing these hard vacuums of space. These boys choosing beyond any reaches or limits. These boys choosing “space camp.”  “Space camp” is a lie. There is no “space camp.” There is only the abandoned rotten-walled houseContinue Reading

xx I want to stare at you, lock tractor beams. Drinking coffee. Leaning back occasionally. Staring at the control panels buried in the other. I want some kind of ship with a little incentive, the headless body of a hard work – a small locker containing movement, a slot onContinue Reading