Is this you? As a journalist, you can create a free Muck Rack account to customize your profile, list your contact preferences, and upload a portfolio of your best work.
Claim your profile
Articles by Clelia Farris
Es and Is, by Clelia Farris
A writer faces a surprising request: to write a negative review. Dear Fada, I know you’re busy submitting Ouzegane’s latest book—it was a great coup to be able to represent the first African poet to win the Nobel Prize!—but I really need your help. Esadora wrote a novel! Two years ago, she took it into her head to sculpt and splashed my poor grandfather’s teak furniture with hot polycarbonate.
October 25 2021 By Strange Horizons
Table of Contents | October 25 2021 In this issue of Samovar we find hauntings in places both familiar and unfamiliar, strange transformations, and sacrifice. What's on the other side of the door? Come with us to find out. By: Anastasia Bookreyeva Translated by: Ray Nayler What was I afraid of? Losing Shurik. Nothing could be more terrifying. What was Shurik afraid of? Of the monsters that live under the bed and in the pipes when his mother is nowhere to be found. An empty apartment in the evening.
Introduction: Strange Lusts
Strange Lusts / Strange Loves" (2020) by Jabari Weathers Speculative fiction has always been the material representation of our desire to bring about a better world.
The Substance of Ideas
I’m a fraud. That said, you know half of what you need to know about me. I’ll tell you the rest now, and it’ll be the truth. I’m an honest fraud. Damkina came up with the idea. We’d known each other as kids, me and Damkina, we grew up in the same House. The Caretaker, old Samash, had reproached me in the past, saying, “Wherever she sets her feet, you follow, Nergal.
Holes, by Clelia Farris
Un Uovo Vuoto, illustration by Damiano Cenderelli Italian sci-fi master Clelia Farris conjures a solitary egglike being and the company eager to provide a piercing solution. I AM THE SERVER. I offer hospitality and information. I supervise everything. I have everything inside me, like an egg. I open the door, I bow, I straighten up, I raise my right hand, I greet. I’ve existed for three hundred and seventeen years, five months, and nine days. I welcome, inform, offer maps. Door, bow, straighten, greet.
Show More
loading
Actions
Is this you?
As a journalist, you can create a free Muck Rack account to customize your profile, list your contact preferences, and upload a portfolio of your best work.Get in touch with Clelia
Contact Clelia, search articles and posts on X, monitor coverage, and track replies from one place.
Learn more about Muck Rack