Posts Tagged "apex magazine"

Fandom: Not Just Funny Business

by on Dec 2, 2014 in Nonfiction | 1 comment

3850 WORDS As I supervised the towering pile of tentacle hentai, my boss started cursing behind me. “Dammit, dammit! Sell it all, sell it all! They’re going out of business.” While I had always known a company somewhere made the products I helped sell, that was the moment I realized that conventions were more than costumes and fun. An entire industry runs on the backs of the fans. For me, the revelation hit late for sure, but it has stuck with me as I’ve continued to go to conventions and been on various sides of the table. Over the years I’ve been just an attendee there to enjoy the panels and items for sale. I came to meet some of the celebrities, show off my...

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Interview with Artist Nello Shep

by on Dec 2, 2014 in Interviews | 0 comments

1000 WORDS Nello Shep is a digital painter, whose work centers around surrealistic scifiscapes, and dreamlike depictions of outer space and the universe. Shep recently started working as an environmental concept artist on several indie games, and has spent the last few years studying physics and fine art in college. This month’s cover features Shep’s beautiful, otherworldly piece “Ouroboros.” APEX MAGAZINE: Many of your works feature a solitary figure in a much larger environment, as “Ouroboros” does. Is that something that strikes you before you start working on a new piece, or partway into creating it? NELLO SHEP: The lone figures in my work are always intentional,...

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Sympathy for the Devil: A Duet in Two Solos

by on Dec 2, 2014 in Poetry | 0 comments

573 WORDS When the Devil’s in Nashville he stops by Third and Union, late, after the bars close, where someone always offers half a beer at the feet of Chet Atkins. The Devil tends to leave them for the dudes who didn’t make it to the Mission tonight, but sometimes he clambers up on the stool the sculptor knew belonged there, drinks the remains of a not–quite–cold one, smokes a discarded butt, plays what anybody passing by would swear is a duet, the Ave Maria audible from up near St. Mary of the Seven Sorrows, echoing against the stations of a mother’s grief until the bell in the tower lets out a hesitant toll in reply, one you gotta be listening for to hear. The few...

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Night-time Visitor

by on Dec 2, 2014 in Poetry | 0 comments

28 WORDS In the dark she sings, She holds my hand tight in hers: Limbs tender, voice soft. Clouds part, the moon shines upon Green skin, one too many arms. Melanie Rees is an environmental consultant whose work involves playing with soil and plants. When she isn’t gallivanting in the mud or stuck up a tree, she writes speculative fiction and poetry. Her stories and poems have appeared in magazines such as Apex, Cosmos, Penumbra, Daily Science Fiction, and Aurealis. In the real world, she lives in a straw house with a menagerie of animals in regional South Australia. Online she lives at flexirees.wordpress.com and on Twitter...

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The Grey Cathedral

by on Dec 2, 2014 in Poetry | 0 comments

218 WORDS I suppose there must be extraterrestrials who, among the plethora of UFO specialists, are cattle mutilators, aliens for whom it is always harvest season, each bovine an overflowing cornucopia. They spend their hours slicing tongues with surgical precision, cleaving udders and ears free, coring anuses and carving out hearts. They are most neat in their work; there is never any blood. So perhaps today, as I sit at my kitchen table, sipping coffee and thinking about my departed Petunia, an alien aboard a flying saucer moves his scalpel and slender fingers through the grey cathedral of her tongue. Here are the great doors of her calfhood, the sweet taste of warm...

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