Sand, Salt, Blood

Anthology opening for submissions August 15th

Last year, I was honoured to co-edit A Woman Built By Man with S.H. Cooper, an anthology that sought to highlight the ways women are shaped by men through a horror lens. Following that, I was keen to go through the anthology process again, it just required an idea and possibly a publisher willing to back it.

Then, last year, my gran passed. Gran never was the biggest fan of the sea, but my grandfather had worked on ships and she was always a big supporter of the RNLI. I had an idea. What about an anthology of sea horror stories? For those unaware, the RNLI are the lifeboat charity in the UK, and they do absolutely amazing work. On top of that, well, the sea is terrifying! Of course it is. It’s huge, with large parts unexplored, and it’s dangerous, wild, unpredictable. Who knows what’s hiding down there? But the sea can also be beautiful and calming and wonderful.

I grew up in a seaside town. We had a promenade and a pier, and the beach was shingle instead of sand. The architecture is very Victorian, and it’s a lovely place to stroll on a sunny day, have some ice cream, or fish and chips. Sit on the pier and watch the sun set. When I went to university, during my second year I was hit by a terrible bout of homesickness. A friend took me to a nearby town, and we strolled along the shingle beach. We stood at the edge and jumped back as the water reached us, and it felt like home.

I grew up near the sea. I love the water, and the waves, and yes, even the shingle. I could hear the booms of the lifeboats launching from my bedroom. We had summer festivals, fireworks from the pier, the smell of salty water in the air. I heard stories, of people getting trapped on a small island you could reach when the tide was out, of people caught by the fast water when they tried to get back. I know how dangerous the sea can be, and I am completely and utterly fascinated by it.
Seriously, what the hell is down there?

It’s not just the middle of the ocean that presents dangers. The shallows can be brutal places, too. I’ve almost drowned twice – once as a child, jumping waves with my brothers at a beach in West Wales. I didn’t realise how much the current could push you away from where you entered the water, and turning around I tried to spot my parents, one of those “hey look what I’m doing” moments. The trick with waves is to know when to jump. You turn your back, you don’t know when to jump. Down I went, moments after seeing Dad leap up from his spot and come running towards me. Flash forward to my early teens, on holiday in Crete. I had never seen waves so big, and I freaking loved it. But yes, one knocked me down, and I tumbled in the water, reaching a hand out and hitting the bottom, pushing myself up and emerging to see my cousin frantically looking for me. 

I love the sea. I love the water and waves and sand and shingle. And there are so many ways you can use it in horror. Not just the idea of being lost at sea, or monsters emerging from the depths. With this anthology, I’m looking for stories that take different angles of ‘sea horror’. Of course I’m expecting a certain number of sirens, mermaids, eldritch horrors, but I want to see other things, too.

Think of the isolation faced by the characters in Midnight Mass, trapped on the island with no connection to the mainland. Think of what could be lurking in run-down seafront arcades. If you live in or near a seaside town anywhere in the world, go take a walk. What makes your area unique? What creepy stories did you grow up in, purely because of being by the water? Think of areas that rely on the sea for livelihoods and income, whether in the past or present.

If you’re thinking of submitting, I’m going to give you a solid hint, not just for this but all anthologies: every anthology is influenced by the taste of the editor. I want to see different takes on sea horror. I want to know what scares you the most about the sea, and maybe even why you love it. 

Think outside the box. Don’t reach for the first idea that comes to mind. Give me something that is purely, totally you.
If you’re a regular reader of Divination Hollow, or my blog, or you listen to Esbat, you know me. You know my tastes. You know what I crave. Not only that, but I am outlining it here for you. But don’t just take what I’ve said. Think about what you can do to make this story your own. Consider the different approaches you can take. 
Please don’t self-reject! I want to hear different voices for this, see different takes and ideas and topics. Let your passion shine through.

Details and guidelines are at Sliced Up Press – so what are you waiting for, get writing!

Announcement from Elle Turpitt