Apex Magazine: Issue 90
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About this ebook
Apex Magazine is a monthly science fiction, fantasy, and horror magazine featuring original, mind-bending short fiction from many of the top pros of the field. New issues are released on the first Tuesday of every month.
Table of Contents
EDITORIAL
Words from the Editor-in-Chief – Jason Sizemore
FICTION
Every Winter – E. Catherine Tobler
When She Comes – Onu-Okpara Chiamaka
The Island in the Attic – Natalia Theodoridou
After We Walked Away – Erica L. Satifka
Shadow – Tade Thompson
Rosewater (novel excerpt) – Tade Thompson
NONFICTION
Interview with Author E. Catherine Tobler – Andrea Johnson
Interview with Cover Artist Ania Tomicka – Russell Dickerson
POETRY
Love’s Ideal Envisioned by a Satyr – Tiffany Midge
The Annual Scarecrow Festival – John Paul Davies
Jason Sizemore
Jason Sizemore is a writer and editor who lives in Lexington, KY. He owns Apex Publications, an SF, fantasy, and horror small press, and has twice been nominated for the Hugo Award for his editing work on Apex Magazine. Stay current with his latest news and ramblings via his Twitter feed handle @apexjason.
Read more from Jason Sizemore
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Apex Magazine - Jason Sizemore
APEX MAGAZINE
ISSUE 90, NOVEMBER 2016
Smashwords Edition
Jason Sizemore, Editor-in-Chief
Table of Contents
EDITORIAL
Words from the Editor-in-Chief – Jason Sizemore
FICTION
Every Winter – E. Catherine Tobler
When She Comes – Onu-Okpara Chiamaka
The Island in the Attic – Natalia Theodoridou
After We Walked Away – Erica L. Satifka
Shadow – Tade Thompson
Rosewater (novel excerpt) – Tade Thompson
NONFICTION
Interview with Author E. Catherine Tobler – Andrea Johnson
Interview with Cover Artist Ania Tomicka – Russell Dickerson
POETRY
Love’s Ideal Envisioned by a Satyr – Tiffany Midge
The Annual Scarecrow Festival – John Paul Davies
Words from the Editor-in-Chief
Jason Sizemore
Let’s talk about Apex Magazine.
Right now we’re in the middle of our annual subscription drive. Our hope is to raise $10000 with this year’s drive. As we did last year, we’ve set up a series of reward levels to thank our readers as we reach milestones on our way to hitting our goal. You can go to http://www.apex-magazine.com/apex-magazine-2016-subscription-drive/ to find the various ways you can subscribe, patron, contribute, and/or donate, and to see all of the amazing bonus content that we’d like to add to the January 2017 issue.
Our goal this year is to raise revenue intake so that we can increase our monthly original fiction word count from 12,000 words to 16,000 words. This will enable us to expand our word count to include novelettes! Our secondary goal is to increase our author pay from 6 cents per word to 8 cents per word.
Did you know we have 1,300 paying subscribers? Our website draws 25,000 to 35,000 unique readers a month. The zine has been up for three Hugos, our stories have been nominated for nearly all the major awards (we’ll get to you someday Sunburst Awards!), and we’ve helped launch and further the careers of many of this generation’s top writers. We’re also one of a small group of pro-zines
that matriculated out of the category of semi-pro zine.
Over the years, we’ve done three issues that specifically featured international SF. In response to #RaceFail a few years ago, Apex published an issue dedicated to Islamic SF that produced a Nebula Award-nominated story by (then) up-and-coming author Amal El-Mohtar. Apex Magazine published If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love
by Rachel Swirsky that spawned an ongoing cultural discussion that has been painful at times, but necessary. Ursula Vernon’s story Pocosin
earned a nomination for the inaugural Eugie Foster Award, a nomination that brought me tears.
Looking ahead, Apex Magazine has no plans of slowing down. In April, I will give over the reins to Maurice Broaddus as he guest-edits issue 94. In August, Dr. Amy H. Sturgis, Tolkien scholar and member of the Cherokee Nation tribe, will guest edit an Indigenous/Native Peoples issue. Diversity has always been important to Apex Magazine, and will always be.
When asked the common question "Why did you start Apex Magazine? I can honestly answer
To make a difference." And I feel that over the 11+ years I’ve been running Apex Magazine (counting the Apex Digest print years) we have made a difference. We’ve also brought a heck of a lot of great short fiction and poetry to our readers during that time!
I won’t mince words. I love what Apex Magazine has become. I love working with Lesley Conner, Bianca Spriggs, Hannah Ruth Krieger, Mahvesh Murad, and our amazing slush team. I love working with our authors and artists. I have a passion for Apex, and I must feed that passion with more Apex.
Help us continue to bring you the strange, beautiful, shocking, and surreal. Check out the subscription drive page at http://www.apex-magazine.com/apex-magazine-2016-subscription-drive/.
§
This month we have a batch of stories in the magic realism and weird speculative fiction categories by a quartet of amazing women writers: Every Winter
by E. Catherine Tobler, When She Comes
by Onu-Okpara Chiamaka, The Island in the Attic
by Natalia Theodoridou, and After We Walked Away
by Erica L. Satifka.
Our reprint this month comes courtesy of Tade Thompson. His story Shadow
is from our anthology The Apex Book World SF: Volume 2. We also have a two-chapter excerpt from his newest novel Rosewater (Apex Book Company).
Andrea Johnson interviews the great and multi-talented E. Catherine Tobler. Russell Dickerson talks with cover artist Ania Tomicka.
Finally, don’t miss our podcast fiction this month. Mahvesh Murad presents and narrates E. Catherine Tobler’s Every Winter.
See you next month!
Jason Sizemore
Editor-in-Chief
Every Winter
E. Catherine Tobler
5,300 words
Every winter, Halla rents the Villa Couloir on the banks of the Ruisseau de Rieu Ferré for its quiet, its darkness. Near the arch of the old stone bridge, it has a view of little else — skeletal trees, the shadow of a ruined windmill, a long road leading someplace Halla will never go.
Groceries are delivered and left by the back door with a note she will place unread in the bread box; over the course of the winter fifteen notes will collect, all on the same paper, all with the same words (thank you, if you need anything else, Michel — and Halla can picture his eyes, so wide and dark in their study of her, as if they cannot turn away). Halla comes to the villa because it is a means of getting away from people, from their incessant needs and unquiet wants. Halla would say one cannot create in bustling environments, but has been told time and again women cannot create, unless it is the bloom of life given from a husband’s body. Halla has no husband; believes she will die alone. Not unloved — Halla is confident she was greatly loved, and sometimes thinks back on these figures, but Halla rarely lingers. They only flit through memory, for each has gone as everyone does. Perhaps they went on to marry, have children, but for her they ceased living the moment she parted ways with them. Lahja will always be on the cusp of the priesthood; Valo will always be poised to ascend the stage.
Every winter, the villa enfolds Halla and welcomes her return. She has been told it is a cold space, that winters spent by the river are cruel, but Halla has been told many things she ignores. She has been told by the landlord not to go into the uppermost bedroom, where the fading paper curls from the walls, so it is always the first place she goes. The room is not cold, despite the snow falling beyond the windows, despite the lack of a fire in its clean and ready hearth. The paper was once gold and holds a hint of summer’s sun yet. She can see no great reason to not enter the room.
From the room’s windows, she can see the villa’s garden; poised in the center of the villa’s walls, it appears to have been designed with winter in mind, for only when the trees shed their leaves can one properly see the labyrinthine pattern of plantings. The bare branches and trunks arch in a tangled canopy over the marble fountain trickling with water yet, a layer of ice encasing the naked woman rising from its center. After the villa’s original owner died, they wrapped the stone in black burlap for a year — Halla can imagine what it was like when her face was at last bared, when full sun fell again on shoulders and breasts.
Halla takes the smallest room as her own — not the uppermost room with its peeling paper, but a room on the north side of the