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WORLD WEAVER PRESS

Rhonda Parrish on Mrs. Claus

11/29/2017

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If you look up Santa Claus the top Google result is Wikipedia (because of course it is). Now, we all know that Wikipedia is a good place to begin research and a terrible place to end it, but it’s perfect for the point I want to make, so stay with me.

In the opening section of the Wikipedia page for Santa Claus it talks about all the various names he’s known by and then moves on to explain how he’s known for bringing gifts to good children on Christmas Eve. From there it speaks of how the myth of Santa Claus began with a merging of a Greek bishop named Saint Nicholas, the Dutch figure of Sinterklaas and Britain’s Father Christmas. Further, it talks about how he also has a lot in common with the Pagan god Wodan. The second paragraph about Santa talks about his physical appearance and how that has changed over the years. There is a final paragraph which offers more details about how Santa classifies kids as ‘naughty’ or ‘nice’, says ho ho ho a lot and lives with elves who make toys which he delivers with a magical sleigh and eight flying reindeer.

The opening section of Mrs. Claus’ Wikipedia page, however, is a single paragraph. It says she’s also known to go by ‘Mother Christmas,’ is the wife of Santa Claus (also known as Father Christmas), mentions she’s been referred to as Mary, Jessica, Layla and Martha and then includes one other sentence. That sentence?

“She is known for making cookies with the elves, caring for the reindeer, and preparing toys with her husband.”

I discovered all this after watching an advertisement, of all things. In 2016, Marks & Spencer had a holiday ad all about Mrs. Claus. It showed her as a woman with a life independent of Santa. Like her husband, she helped children, but she did it with a totally different style than him. No reindeer or sleighs for her. No way. This Mrs. Claus rode a snowmobile and flew a helicopter!

I adored that portrayal of Mrs. Claus and it made me realise that I hadn’t seen many portrayals of her at all and those I had were usually a rotund woman dressed like Granny (of Tweetie Bird & Granny fame). Then I started Googling and my disappointment grew.

I wanted to read stories about Mrs. Claus. Not tales where she merely makes cookies with the elves, cares for the reindeer and prepares toys with her husband, but stories where she is the star. Stories where she has agency, and personality and—like the Mrs. Claus from the Marks & Spencer ad—secrets from Santa. I had a difficult time finding those stories and so I decided to compile an anthology full of them. It’s sort of like the anthologist version of the famous quote by Toni Morrison, “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

This is that anthology. I’m excited about the myriad ways it portrays Mrs. Claus—a hero, a villain, a homebody, a spacefarer, an ass kicker, a motivator. It lets her step into the spotlight (sometimes alongside her husband, sometimes alone) and really begin to be more than just Santa’s companion.

You may not approve of all the interpretations of Mrs. Claus contained within these pages, but I hope you’ll find one or two (or more!) that really speak to you.

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[Out now]: Mrs. Claus: Not the Fairy Tale They Say

11/28/2017

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When you think of Mrs. Claus, do you imagine a quiet North Pole homebody who finds complete fulfillment in baking cookies, petting reindeer and crafting toys alongside elves? How about a magic-wielding ice goddess, or a tough-as-nails Valkyrie? Or maybe an ancient fae of dubious intentions, or a well-meaning witch? Could Mrs. Claus be a cigar-smoking Latina, or a crash-landed alien? Within these pages Mrs. Claus is a hero, a villain, a mother, a spacefarer, a monster hunter, and more. The only thing she decidedly is not, is a sidekick.
 
It’s Mrs. Claus’ turn to shine and she is stepping out of Santa’s shadow and into the spotlight in these fourteen spectacular stories that make her the star! Featuring original short stories by Laura VanArendonk Baugh, C.B. Calsing, DJ Tyrer, Jennifer Lee Rossman, Kristen Lee, Randi Perrin, Michael Leonberger, Andrew Wilson, Ross Van Dusen, MLD Curelas, Maren Matthias, Anne Luebke, Jeff Kuykendall, and Hayley Stone.

MRS. CLAUS: NOT THE FAIRY TALE THEY SAY is out now in ebook and paperback!

See what others are saying about this fun holiday anthology:
“Parrish delivers comfort, joy, and more than a little Christmas spice in this adorable anthology that explores the woman behind the Christmas mythos in various guises, drawing on mythological influences that span the globe.”
—Publishers Weekly
“I never would have guessed that Mrs. Claus could be interpreted in so many different ways or that she could be frightening in one plot and sympathetic in the next…I’d heartily recommend Mrs. Claus to anyone who loves modern spins on traditional fairy tales.”
—Long and Short Reviews
"What a delightful anthology that blends myth, magic and folklore with a healthy dose of reality. Each story is a good length for the busy holiday season."
—Ann K. NetGalley & Goodreads reviewer
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About the Anthologist

Rhonda Parrish is driven by the desire to do All The Things. She was the founder and editor-in-chief of Niteblade Magazine, is an Assistant Editor at World Weaver Press, and is the editor of several anthologies including, most recently, Equus and D is for Dinosaur. In addition, Rhonda is a writer whose work has been included or is forthcoming in dozens of publications including Tesseracts 17: Speculating Canada from Coast to Coast, Imaginarium: The Best Canadian Speculative Writing (2012 & 2015), and Mythic Delirium. Her website, updated weekly, is at rhondaparrish.com.

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Small Press Week 2017: Small press Book Recommendations

11/24/2017

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For today's Small Press Week post, we're recommending books by other small presses. Browse below to find a new favorite, and to learn about other small presses you might not have heard about before!

Sarena Ulibarri, Editor-in-Chief Recommends:

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If you've paid even a little bit of attention to me this year, you've surely heard me yakking about solarpunk. It's a new(ish) science fiction subgenre imagining brighter futures, with a focus on depictions of climate change adaptation, renewable energy technologies, and flattened inequalities. This is still a fairly small movement, but 2017 brought us quite a few solid examples, including my two recommendations for #SPWreads.

Sunvault: Stories of Solarpunk and Eco-Speculation, from Upper Rubber Book Books, is an ambitious collection of environmental science fiction stories, including some big names such as Nisi Shawl and Daniel José Older. Every story in this is anthology is wonderful, and all have at least a tangential connection to the environment, but the most "solarpunk" of them are T.X. Watson's "The Boston Hearth Project," "Last Chance" by Tyler Young, and "The Reset Project" by Jaymee Goh.

EcoPunk!: Speculative Tales of Radical Futures, from Ticonderoga Publications, is a fantastic collection of solarpunk stories from (mostly) Australian authors who actually understand the implications of climate change and still manage to write fun, optimistic stories. Several of these stories remind us that climate change threatens crops such as coffee and chocolate, and explore the cartels and black markets that could develop when our favorite caffeine is endangered. Several other stories explore the post-humanist idea of giving the land back to the animals--or even transforming ourselves into animals, via body modification or mind transference.

Seriously, if you still think "how can solarpunk have conflict?" please pick up EcoPunk! and let these authors show you how.

K. Bird Lincoln, author of Dream Eater Recommends:

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Twisted Reveries by Meg Hafdahl from Inklings Publishing. I am a breast cancer survivor, so I was thrilled to read “Guts” from this short story collection which captured utterly the feeling of sitting in an infusion chair on Mayo’s Gonda building 10th floor and embodied fear and horror of sickness with a fantastic creature. But all the stories in this collection while ranging from horror to every-day banality of human evil have some psychological or emotional pinprick to test yourself with. Here’s my detailed review on Goodreads.

I also dug Uncertain Places by Lisa Goldstein from Tachyon Publications.  No surprise I enjoyed this take on the “kidnapped by faeries” trope, it won the Mythopoeic Award in 2012. Fantasy always pleases me when it uses the fantastic to explore human feelings and relationships and this book does that with a young man getting involved with two sisters. Here’s my detailed review on Goodreads.

Rhonda Parrish, Assistant Editor recommends:

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Helix: Blight of Exiles by Pat Flewwelling -- I'm not done reading Helix: Blight of Exiles yet but here is the thing: I'm reading it based on a recommendation from my husband and he is incredibly picky about his fiction but he loved this book, and the resulting series, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Though, as I say, I'm not quite done reading it, I am enjoying it very much. It's not really for the faint of heart, and is significantly darker than your typical World Weaver Press title, but if you like that sort of thing this one is worth a second look.
(Published by Tyche Books)

Thunder Road by Chadwick Ginther -- Dude. I just loved the voice of this book. So much. The plot was great too, but it was the voice which pulled me in from page one. Thunder Road is basically Norse mythology brought into the modern world of the Canadian prairies but with a whole lot more twists and turns than you'll ever see on our highways. Okay, I stretched the metaphor a bit too far, but you see what I'm saying. This book is darkly funny -- I laughed out loud for real more than once and recommend it to any fantasy lover who isn't offended by profanity in their fiction ;)
(Published by Ravenstone Press)
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Small Press Week: SPWzoom

11/23/2017

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Today's topic for Small Press Week is: "#SPWzoom: Zoom in to provide excerpts, close-up photos, and anecdotes about your new books." So we asked some of our authors for anecdotes related to their World Weaver Press books. See what they they told us below!

Kristina Wojtaszek, author of Opal and Char

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The entire idea behind my first book, OPAL, was kick-started by an obsession with three birds.  An owl, a raven and a dove to be precise, who visited Snow White's coffin one at a time to mourn her.  It was a small detail I kept coming across in various versions of the fairy tale I thought I knew so well, and I just couldn't let it go.  Who were these nameless beings that slipped into an otherwise very human story of a persecuted daughter, and why were they important enough to be meticulously called out in certain order?  I'm still searching for those answers.  Meanwhile, I couldn't help coming up with my own possibilities, and ended up creating an entire realm of shape-shifting Fae whose powers lie in their close connection to nature--powers that doom them as they become persecuted by those who loathe and fear such inhuman abilities.  It is very much the story of our own convoluted relationship with nature, which we both revere and fear, and can never entirely escape.  And of course my characters took off down more than one bread-crumb-strewn path, begging me to revisit various other fairy tales in my series.  Meanwhile, I'm knee-deep in ancient myth and muddied fables, hopelessly lost, still clutching those few feathers I found in the snow once upon a time...

A.E. Decker, author of The Moonfall Mayhem series

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I was doing some research for my third novel when my mother asked me what I was reading.

"I'm learning how Smilodons killed their prey," I replied.

This was followed by one of the longest, most nonplussed silences I've heard in a while.

K. Bird Lincoln, author of Dream Eater

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Writing the Portland Hafu Series has been a strange dichotomy of long, slow waiting and rollercoaster ride for me. I wrote Dream Eater quite a long time ago in terms of my life experience: I lived in Portland, OR and had two children under the age of 5. Only my short stories were published. I sent my novel baby around to several places and spent years waiting. It found a home with World Weaver Press and Dream Eater was published this year. That’s when the rollercoaster started. Now I live in SE Minnesota, have two teenage girls, two self-published historical fantasies, and am trying to write the two sequels to Dream Eater all in the same year. Yikes!

Let me give you a taste of the final two books in the Portland Hafu Trilogy:
Black Pearl Dreaming (Portland Hafu #2)
Last time my family made the yearly trek to Tokyo to see my husband’s family, I gathered some experiences and photos to help me write this book—wherein Dream Eater’s heroine, Koi Pierce, goes to Japan with her father in hopes of helping him with his dementia and to get a handle on what it means to be a dream-eating Baku.

My husband’s uncle was from this small, Aomori town where Jesus’ Tomb is located. I kid you not. This is a real thing. While I couldn’t make it to Aomori this time, I did talk to his family about it.

I also got a lot of shots of Japanese traditional storage houses called Kura. While there’s only one scene in Black Pearl Dreaming that ended up featuring a Kura, I embarrassed my husband almost daily by stalking them in his parents’ neighborhood and taking lots of pictures!

This book’s first draft was sent off to my lovely editor last month. Whoot!
 
Last Dream of Her Mortal Soul (Portland Hafu #3)

Koi Pierce comes back to Portland to handle attacks on the local Kind in this book. It’s been at least six years since I’ve lived in Portland! I remember all the wonderful cafes and pastry shops, however, I had to do a bunch of Google Map and Satellite research to remind myself about the layout of downtown Portland and some of the parks and landmarks where Koi will have to finally make some hard decisions about how far she’s willing to go to protect the people she loves.

One of the places is the Witch’s Castle at Forest Park. Way back at the start of Portland’s history a guy shot his son-in-law, got hanged, and his wife—who he blamed for his crime—lived there for years. Or that’s only a story and it’s the ruins of a public restroom built in the 1900s. Either way, it’s a great hike!
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Small Press Week: All Our 2017 Titles

11/21/2017

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World Weaver Press, is participating in Small Press Week, an initiative helmed by Upper Rubber Boot Books to promote small press publishing. The topic for today says: "Every Tuesday is #newreleasetuesday, but this Tuesday is for featuring all of your current 2017 releases, no matter when their release date." We published nine new books in 2017, and you can see the whole list below!

Beside each book, you'll find an excerpt. These excerpts are different from the ones available on each book's official page, so please give them a read. Maybe you'll even find a new favorite or a good holiday gift.

Covalent bonds, edited by Trysh Thompson

Forget the old stereotypes: geeks are sexy.
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Released February 14, 2017

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From "Critical Hit" by Cori Vidae

“Ragnar’s hammer crushes the beast’s skull, popping its eyes out. Still attached to their optic nerve they dangle, bobbing freely—”

“Gross! Do you have to be so graphic?”

“What? I’m painting the scene.”

“Next thing I know,” Lila said, wrinkling up her nose. “You’re going to be telling us how it smells.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Terrance said with a shrug.

“Right?” Hallie agreed, peering over the taped together binders she was using as her dungeon master screen. “We’re telling a story here.”

“You could just say, ‘Natural twenty. Critical hit. You do double damage’.”

“I could, but that wouldn’t be as much fun.”

“You mean it wouldn’t be as gross,” Lila said.

“Whatever,” Hallie flipped her reference books closed and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You killed it, saved the village, yay.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” Terrance stretched and leaned back in his chair. His stretch pulled his shirt from his jeans, revealing a band of olive skin just above his waistband. A sprinkling of dark hairs, two shades darker than those on his head, trailed down from his belly button to disappear into his jeans. Now that was a treasure trail she’d like to follow.

Solomon's Bell by Michelle Lowery Combs

Ginn thinks she has problems at home until she magically lands herself in 16th century Prague.
With Caleb and Haley gathered close, I open The Golem of Prague to the black and white sketch of the ancient cityscape near the beginning of the book.

Have the wisdom to discern what you need, I hear Rashmere in my mind.

With everything in me, I wish to somehow be among the castles and cathedrals of the Golem’s legendary city. And then the book grows very large, or we grow very small—I can’t tell which. The air around us ripples and changes. I tense with fear. Have courage, I hear Rashmere again.

“Grab onto me,” I say to Caleb and Haley. Collectively, we lean into the growing whoosh of air around us. Together we take the steps that lead us into 16th century Prague.

The stars shine like diamonds in the cloudless night sky while a fat full moon glows milky white near the horizon. Prague lies ahead of us. Hundreds if not thousands of colored glass windows gleam like fiery jewels scattered across the city. It’s a magical sight, and I stare at it open-mouthed.
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Released March 7, 2017

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Dream Eater by K. Bird Lincoln

Koi Pierce dreams other people's dreams.
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Released April 4, 2017

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“I’m Ken,” the guy said, and bowed in a formal way that reminded me of Dad at his sushi restaurant.

Ken? The name did not fit him in the least. “Ken” should be a shaggy-haired, blonde hulk of a football coed. Mr. Sniffer-Stalker’s hair was that deep, deep brown that could be black or could lighten in the sun into a chestnut. His tall, slim build was more like an Olympic swimmer’s than a football player’s. Thick-fringed, glinting dark eyes and the barest hint of an eyelid. I still couldn’t decide if he was mixed or full Asian. Either way, “Ken” was not him. There was nothing boy-toy Barbie about him at all.
At least my name wouldn’t sound ridiculous now. “Koi,” I said.

His wide lips curled into a smile. “As in ‘flirtatiously modest’?”

“No, my mother had a fish fetish. ‘Koi’ as in ‘carp’.”

He bowed again, and I had to stop myself from bowing back. Exactly like Dad when he got together with the other Japanese business owner geezers for endless pints of nama Sapporo Ichiban at Yuzu. Or, at least Dad before.

“Well, Ken,” I said, “I guess I owe you one. Thanks for rescuing me from that professor guy.”

“A professor, huh?” The amused glint sharpened. “My pleasure,” he said in a low, rumbly voice. Warmth crept down my neck, spreading flushed wings across my back. Where did he get off having a voice like that? Like actors in one of Dad’s samurai dramas without the gruff undertones.

“Thanks again,” I mumbled and downed the last of my latte. Definitely time to get out of here before I actually started scoping out my own stalker. Ken probably wasn’t really a stalker or crazy, but there’d been enough time for the truly creepy professor to clear the area. I had places to go. Non-creepy Professors to dazzle with lit critiques.

Shattered Fates by Rebecca Roland

Sometimes unlikely alliances are the only way to succeed.
Malia let out a startled cry when the presence pushed against her. In an instant, the presence was like a bubble forming in her mind, pushing against her skull, and growing until it nearly burst. Then it withdrew, just as quick.

“Malia?” Rasmus asked. His hand was on the dagger he wore on a belt, and he glanced around.

Malia found herself standing. She must have leaped to her feet when that presence reacted to her.

Ankti had also shot to her feet and looked around them, then up.

“It’s all right,” Malia said, her speeding heart gradually slowing. “I just—” What? Experienced another person in her mind? After all she’d gone through, that would worry Rasmus too much, especially if she mentioned it felt like the mutara. She wanted to find out more before bringing this up with anybody. “I fell asleep and had a nightmare.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed and his hand fell from the dagger. Ankti frowned and crossed her arms. She glanced up one more time before nodding.

“We should get a move on,” Malia said.

She would have preferred a longer rest, but the sooner she found Enuwal and got to her grandmother’s home, the better she’d feel. The skies remained empty save for birds and a few scant clouds. There was no possibility that the Maddion knew about the barrier. Unless they had something to do with it. She urged her tired legs on.
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Released May 23, 2017

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Bite Somebody Else by Sara Dobie Bauer

Immortality is being a horrible influence on your best friends. Forever.
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Released June 20, 2017

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Imogene hid behind her sunglasses and a rum punch as Celia extoled the virtues of not biting one of Ian’s brothers at their wedding. “I really don’t want any open wounds at my nuptials,” she said over the clatter of beer bottles and disorderly conduct at their favorite Florida dive bar, The Drift Inn.

“What if I have to punch someone in the nose?” Imogene asked.

“You won’t.”

“Except maybe my brother Randall. Nobody likes Randall, but I don’t even know if he’s coming,” Ian said from his bar stool. He sat there, in shorts and a t-shirt, reading Modern Bride. He flipped a page and said, “Ooo, pretty!”

“Pretty.” Imogene licked her lips.

“Imogene.” Celia elbowed Imogene in the side.

“Okay.” She held up her palms and shook them like jazz hands.“I won’t bite any of Ian’s brothers.”

“Or anyone else.”

Imogene rolled her eyes, which Celia couldn’t see behind the red, plastic sunglasses. “Or anyone else,” she mumbled. She eyed a tall, dark, masculine shadow that watched her from the corner of the dingy bar. She made a show of pouting her lips just for fun.

Equus, edited by Rhonda Parrish

There’s always something magical about horses, isn’t there?
From "Eel and Bloom" by Diana Hurlburt

Three strange horses stood outside the house on the day the corpse flowers bloomed.

They were strange in that I didn’t know them by sight but they were normal old horses, warmbloods of some variety, not limerunners—water-bred, strange by nature. The piebald snorted as I came up the drive, the chestnut blinked, and the gray eyed me, one eye brown and one milky blue. I suspected he wouldn’t like to have people on that blue-eyed side. Voices floated from the front windows, my mother’s lost amid lower ones, men’s voices, and I stopped before opening the door.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” one man said, and another added, “Thinking to out-smart us, she is,” in a strange, coarse accent. They fell to squabbling, a mess of chatter about the night’s race, every other word caught in the gap-boarded walls.

As my mother’s voice responded, the wind picked up, chiding my eavesdropping. It whistled through the Australian pines, the tongue of it hard against the windowpanes and carrying a scent—not rain or exhaust from the highway a quarter mile west but something heavy and rotten, some dead flesh I didn’t feel like dealing with. It was summer, not butchering season, and I wanted spring water in my nostrils, hay and horse sweat, not death.

The door bumped open and hit me in the chest, and I stepped aside as three men came out. Whatever the dead animal was, wherever the carrion lay, it was less important than the business the horses’ riders had been here about. No one came to see my mother this close to sunset because they wanted to.

Each of the men looked at me as they passed, which suited me not at all.
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Released July 12, 2017

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Vanity in Dust by Cheryl Low

Forever young, endlessly indulged. What could go wrong?
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Released August 8, 2017

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He couldn’t will himself to move, afraid of falling and dying. When he felt eyes on him, Ferrin lifted his head to scan the farthest edge of the crowd. It wasn’t difficult to find the one watching him. It was a testament to the bad dust that no one else had taken notice of the Queen’s Wrath. He stood as a solitary soldier, with narrow body and silver eyes, occupying the doorway of the warehouse, staring through the mess of it all at Ferrin.
 
He felt the weight of that gaze and knew, with gut twisting certainty, that the Queen finally saw him.
He waited, desperate with hope that the Wrath would end the madness and save him. But that hope was madness all its own. The Wrath raised one arm, fingers dressed in the black armor that coated his entire body. He never broke eye contact with Ferrin, and Ferrin could not will himself to look away. The lights grew brighter. Brighter and brighter. Ferrin let out a strangled sob just before the bulbs burst, one after another, throughout the entire warehouse. Darkness swallowed them up.
 
The Queen’s Wrath vanished from the doorway and in rushed the violent flutter of little wings, soon bringing the sounds of the room to a horrible pitch. The pixies would not care if the dust was good or bad. They would not care if it was left on the table, burning in a cigarette, swirling in the tea, or hot in their blood. It was rich with magic, and that was all their tiny stomachs cared to know.

SonofaWitch!, edited by Trysh Thompson

Six humorous contemporary fantasy stories of magic spells gone wrong.
From "The Perfect Mate Fiasco" by Frances Pauli

Rowan inhaled from her center, pulled up a tingle of earthy energy, and opened her eyes. The candle flame lighting her altar fluttered. The wine in her chalice glowed bloody red, and the Golden Retriever in her living room let loose a jolly round of barking that shifted her attention from the spell she needed to go perfectly, without distraction.

“Quiet, beast!” Rowan rubbed her forehead, streaking rose oil too close to her eyes. She blinked but only managed to make her vision blur more. “Ugh.”

The dog barked again, bounded against the makeshift barrier of chairs and framed posters she’d propped up to keep him out of the kitchen. His name was Rex, and he had rotten timing.

“Down. Bad dog.” Rowan stood and blew out the candle. A sixty pound, bouncing retriever and open flames didn’t mix. “Do you need to go out?”

The spell had to happen when the moon was full and the stars were right. She’d waited long enough, lived alone in a house with only a dog for company long enough. She’d gathered her pink candle, the ribbon, herbs, and the oils she needed. She’d spent two weeks agonizing over the list of traits she considered vital in a partner.

Rowan was ready.
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Released October 3, 2017

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Mrs. Claus: Not the Fairy Tale They Say, edited by Rhonda Parrish

Mrs. Claus is stepping out of Santa’s shadow and into the spotlight.
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Released November 28, 2017

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I could have appealed to the dark-suited Skeleton King, standing in the back corner of the elevator with another vampire goon, but he was on his phone and I didn’t want to bother him. Also, there’s something to be said for taking care of your own problems, and I didn’t want to appeal for permission to enter the elevator I’d been riding long before this vamp was undead.

I put a hand on his arm to gently but firmly lift it out of my way and started to step inside. The vampire twisted to plant a hand on my solar plexus and shoved hard. I stumbled back against the brick wall opposite the elevator door, more surprised by the audacity than hurt by the attack itself. Vampire goon came after me, kicking over one of several trash cans lined up in the ill-lit alley. It was one of the old metal kind, and it clattered over the cement and spat refuse as its lid skittered free.

The movement and noise pulled the Skeleton King from his phone call, and while it’s harder to read a face with no eyebrows, his posture definitely stiffened, even for a figure made entirely of bone. “Frank,” he said, taking a step out of his corner. “I think you should—that is Mrs. Claus.”

“Mrs. Claus?” Frank the vampire bodyguard didn’t seem to get it. “What’s she doing here? She’s not the Big Man.” He sneered, showing canines. “Go home and bake some cookies, Mrs. Claus. Maybe watch some Cake Boss.”

I stomped on the upturned rim of the metal trash can lid, flipping it into the air, and caught the handle left-handed as it rotated toward me. I punched it solidly into his face and felt a satisfyingly solid connection.

“Shield boss, actually,” I quipped, but he didn’t catch my terrible pun because he was busy stumbling backward and trying to stay conscious.

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September 2017 Query Stats

11/6/2017

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This was the first time we limited the genre we were looking for in World Weaver Press submissions— for the September 2017 submission window, we asked for only speculative romance. We define "speculative" broadly (see more on what that term means to us here), and encouraged writers to send us their adult and new adult paranormal romance, as well as science fiction romance, fantasy romance, alternate history romance, etc. And that's mostly what we got. Alas, some writers will never read the guidelines, or will take their chances at being the exception.

In any case, we received several projects our romance editors are excited about, though it may be a while before we make final decisions about what will be on our upcoming publication list. Our editors have gotten pickier over time, after all, and our commitments to the series we've started publishing leave only a few open slots in our schedule each year. 

For the submission statistics below, we're only reporting genre, audience, and length, as well as how many full or partial requests our editors sent. Some of our past submission statistics lists have included the gender of authors, but we do not ask for that information, and do not presume to guess.

Total: 61
 
Genre:
Speculative Romance: 9
Urban Fantasy: 8
Paranormal Romance: 10
Science Fiction: 8
Fantasy: 11
Speculative--Other: 9
Non-Speculative: 6
 
Audience:
Adult: 40 (Speculative Romance--9; Paranormal Romance--7; Science Fiction--5; Urban Fantasy--5;  Speculative--Other--5; Non-Speculative--5; Fantasy--4)
New Adult: 13 (Fantasy--3; Science Fiction--3; Paranormal Romance--2; Urban Fantasy--2; Speculative--Other--2; Non-Speculative--1)
Young Adult: 7 (Fantasy--4; Urban Fantasy--1; Paranormal Romance--1; Speculative--Other--1)
Children: 1 (Speculative--Other)

Length:
Novella: 12
Novel: 49
 
Requests:
Partial Requests: 0
Full Requests: 4
Revise & Resubmit: 1 (so far)

In case you're wondering if a Revise and Resubmit is worth it, two of our 2016 publications were R&Rs: Campaign 2100: Game of Scorpions by Larry Hodges, and Bite Somebody by Sara Dobie Bauer. Campaign 2100 received high praise from science fiction authors such as Mike Resnick and Robert J. Sawyer. Bite Somebody was blurbed by Christopher Moore, and won the 2017 Imadjinn Award for Best Paranormal Romance Novel.

Just puttin' that out there.

We haven't yet decided when we'll be open for queries again, but it will probably be sometime in 2018. Subscribe to our newsletter or watch our social media for updates about our next submission window.

In the meantime, we have several short story anthologies that either are open for submissions, or will be open soon, ranging from science fiction to fairy tale to alternate history. Check out those guidelines here: https://www.worldweaverpress.com/submit-anthologies.html For some insight on how anthology submissions differ from general queries, check out our posts on the submission statistics for Fae, Covalent Bonds, Sirens, and Equus.

Previous Query Statistics Blogs:

February 2017: www.worldweaverpress.com/blog/february-2017-submissions-statistics
February 2015: http://www.worldweaverpress.com/blog/february-2015-query-stats
June 2015: http://www.worldweaverpress.com/blog/june-2015-query-stats
February 2014: http://www.worldweaverpress.com/blog/february-query-stats
June 2014: http://www.worldweaverpress.com/blog/june-2014-query-stats
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