The magazine won its first Hugo Award in August , in the semiprozine category,  two Hugo Award nominations in subsequent years,  and its first World Fantasy Award nomination, for editors Segal and Vandermeer, in more than seventeen years. In August , Weird Tales became involved in a media altercation after the editor announced the magazine was going to publish an excerpt from Victoria Foyt 's controversial novel Save the Pearls , which many critics accused of featuring racist stereotyping.
The decision was made despite the protests of VanderMeer, and prompted her to end her association with the magazine. Weird Tales was one of the most important magazines in the fantasy field; in Ashley's view, it is "second only to Unknown in significance and influence". Weinberg argues that much of the material Weird Tales published would never have appeared if the magazine had not existed.
It was through Weird Tales that Lovecraft, Howard, and Clark Ashton Smith became widely known, and it was the first and one of the most important markets for weird and science fantasy artwork. Many of the horror stories adapted for early radio shows such as Stay Tuned for Terror originally appeared in Weird Tales. Shanks, the editors of a recent scholarly collection of literary criticism focused on the magazine, argue that " Weird Tales functioned as a nexus point in the development of speculative fiction from which emerged the modern genres of fantasy and horror".
The magazine was, unusually for a pulp, included by the editors of the annual Year in Fiction anthologies, and was generally regarded with more respect than most of the pulps. This remained true long after the magazine's first run ended, as it became the main source of fantasy short stories for anthologists for several decades. The editorial succession at Weird Tales was as follows:  . The four issues in the early s came from Renown Publications, and the four paperbacks in the early s were published by Zebra Books. The next two issues were from Bellerophon, and then from Spring to Winter the publisher was Terminus.
The issues published from through were from Nth Dimension Media. Weird Tales was in pulp format for its entire first run except for the issues from May to April , when it was a large pulp, and the last year, from September to September , when it was a digest. The four s issues were in pulp format.
The two Bellerophon issues were quarto. A single pulp issue appeared in Fall , and then the format returned to large pulp until the Fall issue, which was quarto. The format varied between large pulp and quarto until January , which was large pulp, as were all issues after that date until Fall , except for a quarto-sized November From Summer the format was quarto. In September the price was reduced to 15 cents, where it stayed until the September issue, which was 20 cents. The price went up again to 25 cents in May ; the digest-sized issues from September to September were 35 cents.
Some of the early Terminus editions of Weird Tales were also printed in hardcover format, in limited editions of copies. Starting in , Christine Campbell Thomson edited a series of horror story anthologies, published by Selwyn and Blount , titled Not at Night. These were considered an unofficial U. The ones which drew a substantial fraction of their contents from Weird Tales were:  . There was also a anthology titled Not at Night Omnibus , which selected 35 stories from the Not at Night series, of which 20 had originally appeared in Weird Tales.
In the U. Numerous other anthologies of stories from Weird Tales have been published, including:           . A Canadian edition of Weird Tales appeared from June to July ; all fourteen issues are thought to be identical to the U. Another Canadian series began in , as a result of import restrictions placed on U. Canadian editions from up to January were not identical to the U. From the May to January issues, they correspond to the U. There was no Canadian issue corresponding to the November U. There was no Canadian issue of the January U.
There were numerous differences between the Canadian issues from May to January and the corresponding U. All the covers were repainted by Canadian artists until the January issue; thereafter the artwork from the original issues was used. Initially the fiction content of the Canadian issues was unchanged from the U. In a couple of instances a story appeared in the Canadian edition of the magazine before its appearance in the U.
Because of the reorganization of material, it often happened that one of the Canadian issues would have more than a single story by the same author. In these cases a pseudonym was invented for one of the stories. There were four separate editions of Weird Tales distributed in the United Kingdom. In early , three issues abridged from the September , November , and January U. The middle issue was 64 pages long; the other two were 48 pages. All were priced at 6 d. A single issue was released in late by William Merrett; it also was undated and unnumbered.
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The three stories included came from the October U. A longer run of 23 issues appeared between November and December , from Thorpe and Porter. These were all undated; the first issue had no volume or issue number but subsequent issues were numbered sequentially. All were 96 pages long. The first issue corresponds to the July U. Another five bimonthly issues appeared from Thorpe and Porter dated November to July , with the volume numbering restarted at volume 1 number 1. These correspond to the U. Weird Tales is widely collected, and many issues command very high prices.
Issues with stories by Lovecraft or Howard are very highly sought-after, with the October issue, containing "Dagon", Lovecraft's first appearance in Weird Tales , fetching comparable prices to the first two issues. Prices of the magazine drop over the succeeding decades, with the McIlwraith issues worth far less than the ones edited by Wright. The revived editions are not particularly scarce, with two exceptions. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. This article is about the pulp magazine. For other uses, see Weird Tales disambiguation.
US pulp fantasy magazine. Four interior illustrations from Weird Tales. From left to right, the artists are Finlay , Bok , Dolgov , and Coye late s or early s. However, in a later history of the magazine, Weinberg says that Wright, "who had been in bad health for many years, stepped down as editor", and does not give any other reason for his departure. When they discovered who he was, they offered him their services free-of-charge.
SF Encyclopedia. Retrieved December 17, Lovecraft, letter to Frank Belknap Long , ; cited in Carter , p. Retrieved July 11, Galactic Central. Retrieved July 9, Retrieved July 22, Retrieved July 10, Archived from the original on February 20, Retrieved August 28, January 25, Archived from the original on August 25, Retrieved September 16, SF Scope. Archived from the original on July 10, Archived from the original on May 13, Retrieved July 31, January 16, Archived from the original on January 20, Archived from the original on May 29, Retrieved August 22, Retrieved April 21, Retrieved July 28, August 18, Archived from the original on May 7, Retrieved August 15, Tallahassee Democrat.
Archived from the original on September 11, Retrieved September 9, Archived from the original on July 3, Retrieved July 23, Retrieved July 18, Retrieved July 16, Weird Tales at Wikipedia's sister projects. Fantasy fiction. History Literature Magic Sources.
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Anime Films Television programs. Tolkien World Fantasy Convention. Outline Category. Science fiction and fantasy pulp magazines. Categories : Weird Tales establishments in Illinois American bimonthly magazines Fantasy fiction magazines Horror fiction magazines Magazines established in Magazines published in Chicago Pulp magazines Science fiction magazines established in the s.
Okay, so this was when I used to live in in a different state. I got a job working as a cocktail server at a strip club, which was a good choice for me at the time as the club was very fun, kind of metal punk vibe, and also very popular with lesbians, and since I was going through the process of coming out as bisexual, and was in a very radical, "fuck corporate society fuck men lets take their money" phase. I'm not one of those people who thinks stripping is super empowering but it was a good fit at the time. Also while I was there after about 6 weeks I would often have terrible, suffocating feelings, almost about to have panic attacks, and terrible migraines while working in the club.
I would often feel panicked and scarred but I chalked it up to a stressful job in a strange environment. I never had these feelings anywhere else around this time. So the club was really kind of messy, not dirty but just filled with THINGS, lots of tables in the bar, lots of speakers and extra crap in the back storage room behind the stage, and a tiny crowded dressing room for the dancers. Behind the stage there was kind of a storage room area that had several dressers and mirrors put in, as well as an old comfy couch in case the dancers wanted to use it as an extra dressing room, or a place to nap, but no one ever actually used it.
This room gave me the worst, suffocating, panic inducing vibes of all, and I had no explanation for it. So I would often be at work until 4 am or later, since I didn't have a car, public transportation wasn't running, and it was in kind of a sketchy neighborhood I would wait until one of the dancers was done for the night and she would drop me off at home, this was often after my own shift ended. When I first started working I would spend that extra time trying to do side work, clean and straighten up like a good employee, but after awhile I would often just hang out in the back room studying, since I was also in grad school at the time.
Until when I started completely freaking out in the back room, and when I would leave to go sit up at the bar or in the dancer's dressing room, the feeling would mostly go away. So also when this stuff started to get worse, I have to add that some of it was around Halloween so I was watching a lot of scary movies, and I was also smoking a ton of weed so both of these things might have had some affect on my psyche, but also these feelings NEVER happened anywhere else around this time.
I started to kind of bring it up to the dancer that drove me home, she said the back room also "creeped her out" but didn't go into any detail.
So one night after closing I was carrying a box of extra glasses into the back room, and I heard the most terrifying sound of my life. It was like from a horror film, like a long screech almost like electronic music but just one tone, almost like a chain saw that reverberated around the entire floor and walls. I dropped the box, screamed and ran out to the floor. The bartender said he had heard a noise as well, but not as loud as me and without the vibrating floor walls, and started checking the sound system telling me some of the music equipment had probably just started fucking up. This happened at least 5 more times while I worked there, sometimes other people heard it, sometimes just me, always when I was walking into the back room.
Twice when I walked into the back room the light would flicker off, and would be replaced with a red glow, like someone had put in a red light bulb. Both times that happened I ran out, got the bartender, they would check and the light would be totally dead, not working. After awhile I was constantly shaken, and didn't want to tell him every time something happened since I was afraid they would think I was crazy. After the noise and red light, I would never go to the back room, even when I should have been cleaning it.
One time I was standing in the hall between the dancers room and the back room, half halfheartedly sweeping the floor and staring into the back room. I was starting to feel the panic in my chest, and I kept telling myself to look away and look into the dressing room, but I couldn't stop staring, like I was transfixed I threw the broom, screamed as loud as I could, and ran to the bar.
I was convinced one of the dancers had hung herself in that room, I could see it so clearly in my mind. Of course when we went back nothing was there. One of the dancers was convinced that the room was haunted and I was seeing a ghost, she thought maybe someone had killed herself back there. She wanted to get me and some of her friends to do a Ouija board about the bar and the ghost but I was too terrified. Around all this happening I felt I was losing my mind.
by H.P. Lovecraft
I was having panic attacks, migraines, sleeping with my lights on, was terrified of my shadow and carried pepper spray everywhere I went. It may have just been a combination of everything in my life, sleeping weird hours, grad school, dealing with my own personal shit, but I've always been a high stress person who's worked a lot more stressful jobs since then and I have NEVER experienced anything like that ever in my life. About a week after I saw the legs in the mirror, I was working one more shift before taking a week off to do some research for a grad class and go on a long weekend trip with my girlfriend.
This was near Halloween so the club had kind of gone all out and had goofy decorations and costumes.
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I usually dressed in all black anyway, and I tried not to wear anything too "sexy" or "distracting" so costumers would mostly leave me alone and concentrate on the dancers, so this day I just wore a black skirt and tee shirt but had my face painted like a Dia de los Muertes sugar skull. It was mostly white, with jewels, and it was fucking rad. Since I was so freaked out all the time at the club I started asking if I could leave around midnight, and would catch the last bus, but this night my friends were meeting me to drink at the club after my shift.
I was near the end of my shift, and was taking off my apron in the dressing room and leaned over the dancer's mirror to check my makeup, and that is the last thing I remember. Until I was being shaken awake by one of the bouncers with a friend and my girlfriend by my side, I was in the haunted back room laying on the couch, and my face paint was completely smeared all over my face, they said I had disappeared for about 45 minutes until they went looking for me, and found me asleep, and had been trying to shake me awake for almost 2 minutes.
I was completely hysterical, had no idea what had happened. My clothes weren't disturbed, my tip money was still in my apron, and there's almost no way anyone had been back there all night. I was almost afraid I had been drugged, but right after this event I went to the doctor, no health insurance so this was a BIG deal to me , and got checked out and had them give me an MRI since I was afraid I was had a brain tumor or something that made me lose my mind.
They suggested I speak to a psychologist. After that night I had to quit the job and never went back. Besides those horrible events I loved working there and made a lot of friends, but I absolutely lost my mind. And once I left I never felt any of those feelings or saw anything like that ever again.
When my older sister was born my parents moved into a small house and in that house the laundry room was right across the kitchen table. So my sister would often be seen waving and staring and giggling while looking into the laundry room. This behavior continued for a long time and when she could finally talk they asked her who she was talking to.
To this she looked at them and said 'the little boy'. To this my parents asked if he was nice and to this she waited a moment and then replied 'yes'. After this she seemed to grow out of it, and forgot all about it and to my parents relief, dismissed it as an imaginary friend. They never mentioned it after that. When I was born, I exhibited the same behavior and when I could talk they asked me who I was talking to. To this I replied 'the little boy'.
They once again asked me if he was nice and I did the same thing as my sister, although a little different. When I was little, I used to wake up in the middle of the night and go into my parents room and sleep next to my mom. One night when I was about 5 or 6, I had this really really vivid dream where I woke up scared, and went into my mom's room to sleep with her.
When I went in, however, there were a set of parents on the bed, and a set of identical parents on the floor. I instinctively knew in my dream that I had to wake the right parents, because the wrong parents were evil. So I chose the parents on the floor. I distinctly remember thinking that the evil imposter parents would try to trick me, so I chose the parents on the floor.
When I went over to the parents on the floor, they both opened their eyes, and where their eyeballs should have been, it was just bright glowing red light. That was when I actually woke up. Being a scared little kid, I of course went right into my parents room to sleep next to my mom.
The "second set" of parents was actually a pile of unfolded laundry. But I will never forget the fear that struck my little 6 year old heart at that very minute. We have never figured this out. And now, the three living witnesses have to be good and fucking druuuunk to discuss the whole thing.
So we were all cogent. No one was too young or too senile to not recall this nonsense. Yet, still no bloody answer. Grandma lived on an isolated country road in NC that was named after her family since they were the only crazy fuckers who lived on the land for about acres. Curious, we all run to the big picture window that looks onto the front yard. There is a strange truck there.
No one seems to be behind the wheel, though the engine is idling. The truck is… well, old, for one thing. You could picture the Joad Family heading to California in this thing. We stare at the thing, bewildered. Mom asks grandma if she knows who that is. Nope, not a clue, says grandma. Just as she asks him to come on down, the phone goes dead. All at once, there is a loud, insistent banging on the front door. We all scream. My grandma, who is terrifyingly resourceful, huddles us all into the living room, away from a window where anyone can see us.
Is it too late to save America? Following a run-in with the police, a regular working guy named Pepper finds himself committed to a psychiatric hospital.
A haunting we will go…
Pepper dismisses their stories at first, but that changes the night he sees the thing for himself. Now Pepper has a choice between going along with the program, or doing something about a terror the staff seems all too willing to ignore. Trevor McGee had a rough childhood, you could say — when he was just five years old, he woke up one morning to find that his father had murdered his mother and his younger brother, and then hanged himself. Twenty years later, McGee returns to the house he grew up in, but it seems the demons that drove his father to insanity may not have left….
Caitlin R. Kiernan is an expert at incorporating mental illness into her books in a sensitive, non-sensational way. The Drowning Girl is part ghost story, part character study, part… something else, and is absolutely not to be missed. The protagonists are crystal meth junkies whose habit immunized them against a mysterious something that turned the rest of the world into zombies.
Now, scoring more meth has become a matter of life and un death. Author Peter Stenson dealt with a meth habit in his past, and knows as good as anyone the damage the drug can do. This contemporary Gothic horror story is set in late s England and centers on a baby named Ben who is born to Harriet and David Lovatt, the happy parents of four other children. Gruesomely goblin-like in appearance, insatiably hungry, abnormally strong, and incredibly violent, Ben is not your typical infant not by a long shot. Deemed a dangerous monster who will never be accepted anywhere, they exile him to an institution where he suffers alone.
A meditation on humanity and parenthood, this book will haunt you until the last page. The Frangipani Hotel is a lyrical and thought-provoking collection of ghost stories that delve into the painful legacy of the Vietnam War. In these tales, the past is often intruding on the present, and the supernatural is always just around the corner.
This is the perfect book to curl up with on a rainy day for a little spooky introspection. The power of a novel can be seen in its longevity. Frankenstein is powerful indeed. While it has long been considered one of the first science fiction works, it also features terrifying ideas of the macabre and horrific, posing questions about life and death and life again.
Hadi, a local eccentric, collects body parts from the city streets and stitches them together, intending the finished creation as a political statement, an outcry against the wasteful death that surrounds him. Their version of Victorian London features secret societies, magic, royal intrigue, amoral doctors and a dogged investigator looking for the truth. The kernels of truth amidst the dark fiction just make the work more horrifying. The story follows a group of old men who call themselves the Chowder Society in a sleepy New York town. After the death of one of their number, the men are forced to reckon with a horrific accident that occurred years earlier and has haunted the men ever since.
In this weighty collection of spine-tingling stories, Gaskell weaves local lore with reworked fairy tales, social surrealism with a touch of Salem, threading in too the experiences of women in the s. Here indeed is Elizabeth Gaskell at her spookiest. A parapsychologist looking for proof of the supernatural takes a group of young volunteers for a stay in Hill House, a creaky old mansion with a tragic history.
Is the house really haunted? A masterpiece of subdued horror!
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James never makes it entirely clear whether the governess is experiencing something supernatural or is mentally ill, and people are still arguing about it to this day. Horrorstor deftly leans into the tropes of the genre in some ingenious ways by setting his traditional haunted house tale in an IKEA like-furniture store called Orsk. With a bit of knowing humor and some genuine frights, Horrorstor is both unexpectedly clever and surprisingly gruesome. It is an epistolary novel. It is a story within a story within a story. But more than any of that, it is a literally labyrinthine reading experience all centering around the central conceit of a house that is vastly larger on the inside than it appears from the outside.
House of Leaves is claustrophobic, unnerving, and entirely original.