Hearth and Harvest

By Julie Cox

Talking livestock, lovesick stone, an egg that hatches something not a chicken, a polite conversation with Death, rescuing a harvest god, the spark of life in a machine. These eleven stories are rooted in the mundane, but are steeped in impossible magic. Many play upon a trope with a twist, such as haunted houses, societal expectations, and typical roles. Each one endeavors to be a dip into a fragment of a world, and a glimpse at the magic that infuses it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julie Cox
• Release date: Dec 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781452378824

Book preview

Introduction

EVERY AUTHOR FINDS, over the course of writing dozens or hundreds of stories, that the same themes keep popping up. In going back and re-reading my work, the themes that continually presented themselves included concern for home life, folk tales, protectiveness over family, harvests of one kind or another, some more harsh than others, and giving love with no expectation of being owed anything in return.

That love is not always gentle.

And a lot of impossible stuff happens in my stories. Ghosts, werewolves, a cockatrice, DEATH (wow death is in here kind of a lot) - so I left out the stories that didn't have a fantastic element to them. I also left out the erotic stories - those get published with Circlet Press. The ones that remained, that I was still happy with, fit nicely under the title Hearth and Harvest.

Much of my other work, including my novel Capricious, can be found at my website, http://www.writingwhilehuman.com.

Leatherskin is an old favorite. It has something of a steampunk aesthetic, and the automaton puts me in mind of the aliens in the beginning of The Fifth Element. It speaks of service as a form of love, and like many of my stories, I managed to work semi-immortality into it.

Stone's Prayer was written pretty much all in one go in a writing exercise at Circlet Press' annual writing retreat. Sometimes they come out whole, like one big rock, instead of like a jigsaw puzzle. I fucking love this little story and I don't care who knows it.

Compassion for the Dead was supposed to be a horror story. I actually finished it as a horror story, then realized that wasn't the story I wanted to tell. So I fixed it. Hey look, immortality has come up again, in a way.

Written in Stone was first published by Zahir Magazine in 2008. I was obsessing over satyrs, especially the Billy Goats Gruff as satyrs. It has a the past coming home to roost theme to it, another one that pops up in a lot of my stories.

Toy Soldiers was something I wrote to creep myself out. I succeeded. I think I was pregnant when I wrote it. That would explain some things. Also I am a wuss and it's easy for me to creep myself out.

Red Wolf is my take on Little Red Riding Hood. I didn't originally intend for it to end the way it did, but it lurched inevitably towards a sad ending. I was playing with going for a more lyrical style at that time, and I still think it works well for that story, even if my author-voice evolved into something less lofty.

Eggshells was written at a time when I was hatching chicks often in an incubator. I found myself peering at the eggs sometimes, or candling them to see the veins and the tiny developing creature inside, and thinking, What if it wasn't a chick?Like I said, it is easy for me to creep myself out. Sometimes the chick inside wouldn't hatch, and would die in the egg, or die shortly thereafter, or would hatch with problems. I had such a sense of helplessness at those times, which certainly played into this story. Perhaps it's the inverse of the immortality theme - the fragility of life.

Reaping is something I wrote several times in various forms. I tried making it into a longer piece, but ultimately found that its single-minded purpose worked best when kept short. Here's that immortality theme again. It's not exactly aligned with my feminist ideals. I'm ok with that; not everything I write has to exemplify my own beliefs.

A Few Moments More was enjoyable to write; it felt very Southern US to me, though I don't think I explicitly made her a southerner.

To Market To Market is another one with kind of a jackass protagonist. I was thinking about the line between animals we eat and don't eat, and decided to blur that line into oblivion.

The Long Hunt is one of my favorites, because I am fascinated with the idea of a black dog as a metaphor for both Death and for depression or personal demons. Most humans don't live like prey animals; it startles us out of our comfort zone to think like one, to know there's a predator after us. To know that someday, it's going to catch us. Also, I like the sudden intrusion of a supernatural element onto a scene that ought to be completely banal.

I hope you enjoy these stories, and that you check out my website for my other works. There is a lot coming up in the future!

Leatherskin

JUNO DIDN'T KNOW WHEN the machine awoke, when consciousness stole into its curling yellow springs, its singing hinges and hot, hissing pistons. There was no singular moment of change, a time that was definitely before, undeniably after. Like any creation, any child, he was not what she had intended to make. Like many creators, she