Musings from Maryland
Welcome to Apex Magazine issue 154.
Buckle up! Whatever your expectations are for this issue, I promise you’re wrong. This is a weird, mindfuck of an issue, exploring liminal spaces, realities far removed from our own, and characters who … change. When I started putting this issue together, I was deep in a weird book reading phase. Books like Die, My Love by Ariana Harwicz, Follow Me to Ground by Sue Rainsford, The Vegetarian by Han Kang, and A Short Stay in Hell by Steven L. Peck. Books that make you question reality and your perception of it. These books definitely shaped the tone of the issue, and I’m delighted with the result. The issue is strange and twisty, and when it steps onto your eReader will say in the words of Nancy Downs, “We are the weirdos, mister.”
We open the issue with “Cervidae, New and Sharp” by Anj Baker. This is a story about possibilities, lives that could have been and those that weren’t. Reality is malleable, but at the same time heartbreakingly not. I won’t reveal more about what this story is about, because it’s best that you go in blind, but know this is a story that begs to be read a second time once you have the knowledge revealed by the end. What appears to be strange and unreal reveals itself to be utterly horrifying.
If Maurice Broaddus emails me and says he has an original story he’d like me to read for Apex Magazine, I pretty well know I’m going to love it. And Rob Cameron’s “When I Heard Calypso” is the perfect example of this. The main character in this story is sick, a hereditary disease from their mother’s side, and when, after 10 years of medical intervention in America, the disease comes back, their mother decides to take them home to Belize. While the main character has never been to Belize, going there offers them a chance to understand the disease—the monster—within them.
“Dispatch From My Ex-Girlfriend’s Lower Intestine.” Yeah, let’s just sit with that title for a moment. This story had a visceral effect on me. It wraps disordered eating around a manipulative abusive relationship. I could feel the hunger eating at the inside of the main character’s innards. The obsessive thoughts of should I eat, what will I eat, when will I eat raced through me in a way that hit a little too close to home. Add that to the controlling nature of the relationship between the narrator and the woman they meet and then move in with. The two feed off each other, as if seeing how long they go without consuming can sustain them. Its depraved, uncomfortable, and intensely dark. Exactly the type of story I love.
Alia Ai-Ming Shahzad’s “Parts and Halves” explores what people will give up for what they need to live and what they are willing to give up in order to live as their true selves. The narrator’s grandmother is a part-swapper, their mother is a part-swapper, and they are a part-swapper. They live in a stall between two vending machines and when a client needs one body part to live a better life, then the narrator, their grandmother, and mother take another part in exchange for the one they need. When a rich, very important client needs the narrator’s right eye, the narrator’s mother convinces them to give it up for the chance for the family to move to a higher floor. When they awaken, they can see who people are meant to be. This shifts how the family works.
“It Starts with Teeth,” by Stefan Alcalá Slater, features another character who feels the need to change. The test pilot doesn’t fit in his coworkers. He isn’t charming or personable. When he meets the doctor, he’s finally offered an opportunity to belong and to have purpose. This story is Strange, with a capital S! It’s a nonlinear narrative that slowly unfolds to reveal an ending that is out of this world. The first time I read this story, I was like “What the fuck?” The second time, was “WHAT THE FUCK!” with a giant grin on my face. This is warped and wonderful!
C.M. Sullivan rounds out the original fiction for this issue with “The Light Below.” After some sort of catastrophic event, people have moved underground. Flamekeepers keep the fire alive underground, working in shifts and feeding the fire from their own body. One Flamekeeper wants to know what else is out there, and goes to great lengths to find out. While deeply sad, this story ends on a hopeful note that feels like a breath of fresh air.
Our flash fiction stories this issue are three misty and murky pieces, rich with compelling language and reflective emotion.
Our Mycelium/Chitin theme was guest-judged by Leah Ning, who had the following to say about the selected story. Our story for the Mycelium/Chitin theme, "Boys of the Fellwood" by David Hoffman, is a gorgeous and unexpectedly tender exploration of vulnerability.
"In the Blue Hour", by RJ Aurand, for our Second Chance theme, is a Jackson-esque tale of family and regret and forgiveness. For our Defiance theme, "We Were Once Twelve" by S. C. Pires is a gothic horror piece about family secrets and the sometimes impotent courage of children.
Our nonfiction this issue is by Richard Dansky and me. Richard shares his knowledge on how writing for games can make your fiction writing stronger. For my essay, I wanted to take a moment to explore my thoughts on the onslaught of AI submissions and the emotional toll this takes on editors, publishers, and authors.
Our classic fiction this issue is by Shingai Njeri Kagunda and Justin C. Key. Marissa van Uden does a deep dive on “Cervidae, New and Sharp” and “Parts and Halves” in her interviews with authors Anj Baker and Alia Ai-Ming Shahzad. Our artist interview with cover artist Jeleynai was conducted by Bradley Powers.
This issue has been a joy to put together. Strange stories that make my brain buzz with excitement. I hope that you enjoy this issue as much as I do.
Yours in reading,
Lesley Conner
Editor-in-Chief
