Goblin Fruit: Winter 2011

Do you remember Amal El-Mohtar? Poet, writer, Black Gate blogger?
Well! As I may have mentioned once or twice, she and Jessica P. Wick (who turns back into a mermaid when you spray her with a hose) co-edit a ‘zine called Goblin Fruit, which publishes “poetry of the fantastical.”
And… THE WINTER ISSUE IS LIVE!!! It’s ALIVE, I tell you! With (O my leaping lords of the great down under), soul-salivating art by Melbourne’s Omi Fam!
If we go by the art alone, this issue would be like a wolf pelt stuffed with sentient diamonds, or a lantern carved from a human skull. But I know the names of some of the poets (Rose Lemberg of Stone Telling, Leah Bobet of Ideomancer, Mari Ness of the Oz Blog at Tor.com, Loreen Heneghan, Christopher W. Clark, Jeannine Hall Gailey, Michelle Muenzler, and Neile Graham), therefore the possibilities for this issue are as endless as a winter’s night.
Go check it out! If you dare.
We last covered Goblin Fruit in our three-part review of the magazine.

I always write with music playing. That’s not much of an admission. A few writers prefer to work in silence, but most that I have talked to say that they need to have music in the background while they work at their keyboards or notebooks. Some writers like to listen with headphones on as an extra seal against the rest of the world, but I only do that if I’m working in a public environment. Otherwise, I let my massively stuffed iPod play through the huge speakers in my apartment to surround me with music as I work.
I want to write about the novels of Felix Gilman, who I believe is one of the strongest new novelists in fantasy fiction today. He’s written three books, Thunderer, Gears of the City, and The Half-Made World, all of them accomplished and powerful, fusing imaginative range with a compelling style and real insight into character and voice. I’ve written about Thunderer 

The holidays are over and according to AccuWeather, approximately 70% of the United States has snow on the ground and for a whole lot of you, this may be just a rare enough occurrence that for the moment, you’re mildly amused. But trust me when I tell you the novelty of throwing it at each other, sliding down it, or for a select group of you, writing your name in it, is going to wear off. And that’s when the cabin fever sets in.
Vampire Circus (1972)