TW: death
My memories are fickle. In some, it is Mars Attacks! on the screen. In others, it is Fern Gully or Independence Day. I am always small. Small enough that I need help to see the movie from the projection booth. …
My laptop was busted. The IT guy in my office was sitting by my little desk, setting up my replacement computer. It was nearly Thanksgiving, so by the Unwritten Rules of Office Etiquette, he was required to ask me about my plans. …
The checkout lady is eyeing my body in juxtaposition to the ice cream I’ve put on the conveyor belt. As a long time fatty, I’ve often treated the act of eating as private, even a secret on occasion. Because of course, fat bodies have to feed themselves, but when others…
Instead of focusing on which movie monster could decimate the other, let’s ask a more compelling question: which movie monsters are the hottest? Or, more accurately, which horror movies treat their monsters as thirst traps for horror freaks?
Who would win in a fight between Freddy and Jason? Which is…
Maybe an early autumn hike up Mt. Rainier was a bad Tinder date idea. We certainly weren’t prepared; I drove us nearly two hours out of Seattle and up a mountain only to find snow. We were not prepared for snow in late September. …
It’s that beautiful time of year, when Horror Fanatics like myself get to strut our stuff and gush over all things scary. October is the one time of the year my mad devotion to the macabre and the horrifying seems almost appropriate.
For Quarantween this year, movie marathons are the…
I don’t like my hair. This is not novel or unique; it seems like most people dislike their hair. People don’t usually get why I dislike my own, though, the same way I raise an eyebrow whenever someone with seemingly flawless hair complains. …
It’s the stupidest argument, every time. It’s a reflexive thing, the thing people say because it’s scripted that way. It needs to be said, and I am no longer convinced it is even supposed to be for my benefit. …
One of my creature comforts is rewatching horror movies from my childhood. My parents had a very “hands off” style of parenting that resulted in me watching some EXTREMELY age-inappropriate flicks. As a toddler whose folks routinely sat her in front of the television to keep her busy, I’d checked…
Describing subspace is a lot like describing a color or an orgasm: you can use as many flowery descriptors as you like, but none of them are really going to do a good job of capturing the feeling you’re trying to articulate unless the other person already knows about it…
E.E.W. Christman
Writer. Fantasy, Horror, & Nonfiction. Queerdo. Nonbinary. HWA Member. They/Them. https://linktr.ee/eewchristman
