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Do You Live In New Hampshire? Want To Write A Horror Story?

 
 
djjd62
 
Reply Sun 10 Jan, 2010 08:16 pm
http://broussardish.wordpress.com/

Live Free or Undead
A Gathering Point for Thirteen Dark Tales from the Granite State

Scare me. I dare you.
January 10, 2010 by broussardish
I’m the editor of New Hampshire Magazine which specializes in local non-fiction, but whether true to life or pure imagination, I love a good story.

Unfortunately, the short story, the basic building block of fiction, is in trouble. Many magazines that once published short fiction have abandoned the form, and those specialize in such stories grow fewer and farther between.

But most of us who love to read and who enjoy a good novel can also remember the pleasure that comes from a crisp and curious collection of short stories. No other technology or medium allows you to enter a three-dimensional world, strangely familiar or perhaps just strange, inhabited with living, breathing characters, and to witness outlandish twists of fate all in the course of an hour or so.

I’m planning to rekindle that experience by producing a series of anthologies under the banner New Hampshire Pulp Fiction and eventually covering all the classic topics of fiction in its most compelling form. The first is the series will tackle the horror genre. Titled “Live Free or Undead: Thirteen Dark Tales from the Granite State,” the book will be produced by the excellent designers and printers of Plaidswede Publishing who are my collaborators creating in the New Hampshire Pulp Fiction series.

The book is scheduled for release in the fall of 2010, but I’m currently soliciting submissions for consideration. Stories submitted should be between 1,000 and 8,000 words. Longer manuscripts will be considered but please query first. Send completed works to the address below.

The horror genre is broad, encompassing everything from the headless Victorian ghosts of gothic parlor tales to the bloody metaphysical terror of contemporary authors like Stephen King. Stories appearing in “Live Free or Undead” can reflect this same range, but with one requirement: All must be established recognizably within the boundaries of New Hampshire. Tales can be set in the past or the future, the deep woods or the busy cities, but we’re looking for stories that offer a sense of place as well as a sense of fear.

Compete manuscripts are welcome and previously published works or adapted works will be considered. In this process we hope to provide an outlet for some of the region’s best writers, to discover new talent, and to create a book that will terrify and delight readers for years to come.

A contract specifying terms agreement is available upon query. Contact me at [email protected] for details.

I look forward to hearing from you.

-Rick Broussard
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Merry Andrew
 
  1  
Reply Sun 10 Jan, 2010 08:48 pm
@djjd62,
Yo-ho-ho and a flask of Medford rum. Thnx for that, deej.
0 Replies
 
rosborne979
 
  1  
Reply Sun 10 Jan, 2010 09:06 pm
@djjd62,
Maybe I'll just write about my daily life trying to keep my little business going in this economy. It might be classified as Horror Smile
0 Replies
 
Merry Andrew
 
  2  
Reply Mon 11 Jan, 2010 03:41 pm
I'm already at work on "The Monster from Mount Monadnock." Like the alliteration there?
Sglass
 
  1  
Reply Mon 11 Jan, 2010 08:44 pm
"The Ghost Organist of the Cathedral of the Pines"
0 Replies
 
rosborne979
 
  1  
Reply Tue 12 Jan, 2010 04:19 pm
@djjd62,
Ok, here's a little NH Horror appetizer...
Rosborne979 wrote:
It was one of those rare days in New Hampshire when you could walk in the woods without getting eaten by black flies or mosquitos and without freezing your toes off in the cold. The leaves of late fall clung gently to the branches as warm October breezes caused a few of them to slowly waft from the trees. It was noontime, bright and sunny and with a mossy smell in the air, an idyllic setting, or so it seemed. Woodland critters scurried through the leaf litter going about their daily business. But other things also scurried through the crunchy leaves today. Things that should not have been there.

The three men ambled through the woods ducking branches and trying not to twist ankles on any loose rocks. Roger's dog Niko ranged back and forth across their path checking every scent and every sound. Joe and Greg hung back a bit following Roger who was the only one who knew where the hell they were going.

"Hey is that dog of yours ever going to flush out something interesting", Greg teased. "It sure does a lot of sniffing around", Joe added.

"That's what dogs do", said Roger, "Haven't you ever seen a dog on a trail before?".

"Actually, I can barely remember the last time I was even in the woods", said Joe. "Where the hell are we anyway?". "We're about a half mile from the observatory", said Roger.

Joe and Greg were healthy and could handle the hike, but they were more used to jogging through kid-filled neighborhoods than searching for landmarks in the woods. And Roger was certainly no woodsman, but he figured he could use a GPS and a map as well as anyone. Besides they probably weren't more than a few miles from a road in any direction they travelled. The biggest part of this adventure would be wandering past the border of the Government Property and then playing dumb and lost, if anyone found them and asked why they were there.

"What's in this place we're headed to anyway", asked Greg. "Will they try to shoot us if they catch us there?". "Yeh, they probably will", Roger responded. "The government likes to shoot lost techies who wander too close to their metal fabricated warehouses and government picnic tables". That got a small laugh out of Joe just as Niko flushed a big grouse out of the bushes and his laugh turned into a gasp. The grouse boomed out of the bushes just ten feet from Joe, went wheeling off into the woods and vanished into a thick clump of trees. It was over in a second but Joe looked like he had pissed himself. He stood there with his mouth hanging open and said, "Holy **** that scared the hell out of me". "I didn't think those things were so big". Greg thought that was pretty funny even though he has been twenty feet the other direction and looked a little bit startled as well.

Roger laughed, "Come on you guys, let's hope the dog doesn't flush a deer or something or you two are gonna have heart attacks and I'll have to drag your dead bodies back to the road". "Time to pick up the pace. I want to get a look at the observatory and then get out of there with enough time to get back to the car before dark". Joe and Greg seemed to agree as all three men closed the distance on the dog who was once again leading the way. None of them looked back. Not that they would have seen anything if they did, but something scurried in the treetops, moving in a most unnatural way.

From high in the trees the thing that shouldn't have been there watched. Sharp Obsidian-black claws flexed against the bark of the tree drawing beads of sap which it ignored because they weren't blood. It waited for the men below to look away and then, without making a sound it dropped from its branch and spread the membranes between its toes, silently gliding to the next tree, brown and black, it looked like one of the many falling leaves. Nothing noticed as it moved from tree to tree. When it landed it made a slight skittering noise and the dog startled in its direction, but just at that instant a smaller animal burst from the bushes near the dog and flew straight toward it. It only had a moment to move into position in the thick branches, but it was very fast. A quick swipe of its claw as the bird passed below and it swung the bird to its mouth and bit deep. Three of its eyes swiveled back to make sure it hadn't been seen. The men and the dog were making noise, but none looked in its direction. Leaves from the trees continued to fall around it, and before the prey could even stop twitching, another of its kind landed on a neighboring branch. Amidst the camouflage of autumn leaves, several more creatures settled onto nearby branches unnoticed. Within moments and with the snickering of strange black claws and alien beaks, the bird was sliced to ribbons. Each creature took a piece and moved quickly away. All through the forrest, unseen by human eyes, food was being collected, the whole process hidden behind the beauty of the leaves. The bird had been the largest thing the creature had snagged so far and it had been easy. With its success came a confidence that swept through the group, and a thousand tiny eyes now turned to the three men and dog below...
0 Replies
 
tsarstepan
 
  1  
Reply Tue 12 Jan, 2010 04:47 pm
@Merry Andrew,
Merry Andrew wrote:

I'm already at work on "The Monster from Mount Monadnock." Like the alliteration there?

My heart went pitter-patter right before I clicked the link. I just knew an alliterative treasure was buried in this thread! Wink
You had me at The Moster Merry Andrew! You had at The Monster! Cool
0 Replies
 
 

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