Dead words and dead bodies

First, a new post over at Where Ghost Words Dwell. If you’re not already following that blog, you really should.

Second, I wrote a post about cannibalism in fiction over at

Have fun!

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On how not to break

I was asked if I have any advice on how to get by as a writer when a) it’s financially tricky, and b) one is weird and introverted. I thought I’d frame the reply as a blog post, because it’s long.

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Dead words, reanimated

Where Ghost Words Dwell is a new project that gathers discarded bits of fiction and presents them Exquisite Corpse-style to the world. You can read it any way you like, as parts of a gigantic map, or tiny worlds that never were. Rochita Loenen-Ruiz started it all, and twice a week you’ll find new posts by authors like Victor Fernando R Ocampo, Joyce Chng, Tade Thompson, Haralambi Markov, Cindy Pon, Vida Cruz and many more. The first one, by a certain awesome French writer, can be found here.

The posts are anonymous, but you can sometimes identify the author by clicking on links in the text. I’ll save you the trouble this time, because I’m excited about it. Today’s post features clippings from my story “Migration”, which is published in Jonathan Strahan’s Fearsome Magics.


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Meet Josephine, the steamdriven daughter of Anna Goldberg and Hercules, as seen by Finnish illustrator Jenny Wiik. Jenny made this one as part of some artwork for the Finnish con Archipelacon this summer.

© Jenny Katarina Wiik

© Jenny Wiik

The story, “Beatrice”, can be found in Jagannath.

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I finally read some good stuff

Haralambi Markov’s piece “The Language of Knives” tells the story of a broken family by way of preparing and baking a dead man into a cake. It’s beautiful, heartbreaking and feels like a fresh (although painful) breath of air. Having written a couple of making-people-into-food stories myself, I found myself wondering how many stories like that are out there. It’s certainly an ancient story concept, either as an offering for the gods, or in order to absorb another person’s essence. (a favorite: the Knights Templar were accused of baking little children into bread. They may also have been accused of kissing chicken butts.) What Markov does feels very old and very new at the same time. Go read.

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“Migration” goes to join the weird

Cover by Tomasz Alen Kopera & Vince Haig

Cover by Tomasz Alen Kopera & Vince Haig

I’m happy to announce that my story “Migration” is in the second volume of Year’s Best New Weird, edited by Kathe Koja and Michael Kelly. The table of contents is absolutely spectacular:

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Fantastisk podd #27

Ta fram skämskudden: vi pratar om att läsa våra egna texter i efterhand.

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I go through periods during which I read very little, and periods during which I binge. At the moment I’m sort of grazing, having a hard time concentrating on one single book. Probably because I’m working on a mind-consuming project. These are littering various tables right now:

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New story out: “Mine-Wife”

Words Without Borders has a new issue out, and the theme is alternate history. I wrote a story in Swedish, “Gruvmaja”, which was then translated into English by Silvester Mazzarella. It was an interesting and pleasant experience to have someone else translate you into English. I think he did a great job.

“Mine-Wife” is about mechanical shepherdesses, a disappearing town, and a narrowly escaped horror. Enjoy.

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I hope you’re having a lovely holiday of your choice. I’m laying low in an undisclosed location with an obscene amount of cookies. Will return with more regular posting soon.


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