Hayley Stone is a writer, editor, and poet from California. She is best known for her adult sci-fi novel, Machinations, which was chosen as one of Amazon’s Best Sci-fi & Fantasy Books for 2016, and her cult hit, Make Me No Grave, a weird western. Her short fiction has appeared in Fireside Fiction, Apex Magazine, Flash Fiction Online, and various anthologies, while her speculative poetry is widely available online. Hayley loves to hear from readers and writers. Find her at hnstoneauthor.com and on Twitter @hayley_stone.
Make Me No Grave
Marshal Apostle Richardson faces off against bloodthirsty outlaws, flesh witches, ruthless vigilantes, and more in this gritty, magical re-imagining of the Old West.
Almena Guillory, better known as the Grizzly Queen of the West, has done plenty to warrant the noose, but US Marshal Apostle Richardson enforces the law, he doesn’t decide it. When a posse tries to lynch Almena ahead of her trial, Apostle refuses their form of expedited justice—and receives a bullet for his trouble. Almena spares him through the use of dangerous flesh magic but escapes soon after saving him.
Weeks later, Apostle fears the outlaw queen has returned to her old ways when she’s spotted terrorizing Kansas with a new gang in tow. When cornered, however, Almena makes a convincing case for her innocence and proposes a plan to take the real bandits down. Working with a known killer opens Apostle up to all sorts of trouble, not the least being his own growing attraction toward the roguish woman. Turning Almena away from vengeance may be out of the question, but if he doesn’t try, she’ll wind up right where the law wants her: at the end of a rope.
And if Apostle isn’t careful, he’ll end up joining her.
If you like Red Dead Redemption and Lila Bowen’s Wake of Vultures, you'll love this gun-blazing weird western.
Interview
TFF: It strikes me that the trope of Almena in Make Me No Grave brings together seventeenth century witch-hunts with modern lynchings, especially of minorities. Is this intersectionality deliberate in the novel, and if so what other axes does it work on?
Hayley Stone: Absolutely.
Throughout the novel, as more of Almena’s background comes to light, we see in her personal friendships and associations that she feels most comfortable among those likewise considered to be “outsiders” in society. In much of Western fiction, there is the theme of civilization (i.e. society) versus the individual (i.e. the lone gunfighter, the outlaw, etc.). Almena’s experience of not only being a woman in a nontraditional role, but one with magic specifically addresses feminist issues such as the persecution of the nonfeminine and the frequent unease surrounding female power. For as much as she is feted as the Grizzly Queen of the West and celebrated for her violence, she is also feared and mistrusted for the same.
Of course, there may be more axes than that, depending on which theory is applied to the reading, but I leave that up to my audience! It’s always fun when a reader makes a connection I myself didn’t necessarily intend.
What was your first love, poetry or prose? And how often do you move from one form to the other?
HS: Definitely prose. I only began writing poetry in earnest a couple years ago, near the end of college. However, now the two are intricately connected, at least in my own mind, frequently informing one another. I often draw on poetic technique for my prose, especially for description or to set the mood of a scene. Verbs rule in poetry, and they provide spectacular energy to prose as well. In the past, I’ve also deconstructed story ideas and turned them into poems when they refused to work as short fiction.
Some of your poems seems to draw inspiration from female characters in old mythologies, Classical as well as Nordic. What fascinates you about these ancient women?
HS: For me, it is two things. First, I feel a strong sense of solidarity with these women. When you strip away the magic and mythos, their lives are not much different from our own; they experience passion and hope, while also suffering from many of the same fears and insecurities. They are lovers, fighters, and everything in between.
Second, in many instances, theirs is the story I most relate to and actually want to read! Historically, the male perspective has been the dominant one, so for me it is interesting to look at the same event from a less obvious point-of-view.
The covers of your novels seem to emphasize the figure of the lone hero. Are strong characters (and especially female ones) doomed to be alone?
HS: There is a special irony there since I’m actually not a big proponent of the lone hero narrative! I even think there is something a little toxic about the idea of solving all your problems on your own, rather than reaching out for help.
One of the themes I explore in both of my series is how easy it is to become isolated by a sense of personal responsibility or past failure. Rhona Long (Machinations) and Almena Guillory (Make Me No Grave) are very different personalities, but both women end up strengthened by their relationships to others, not weakened by them. If anything, the covers represent their initial feelings of loneliness, not their ultimate reality.
With whom, alive or dead, would you most like to collaborate, and on what?
HS: Let’s just say that if J.R.R. Tolkien wanted to invent some languages for an epic fantasy of mine, I would not say no! Otherwise, I would love to co-write a story with Margaret Atwood or Kameron Hurley, as they are two of my favorite writers alive today.
Contest
Enter to win a signed copy of Make Me No Grave!
To enter the contest, comment below by midnight, February 6, 2019, with your own Weird West story or poem in 280 characters or less. Stories and poems must incorporate tropes of the Western genre, while also including a speculative element (i.e. fantasy, sci-fi, or horror). They need not take place in America, or even on Earth.
Up to three entries will be chosen by Hayley, and the winners will receive a signed paperback and bookmark. You may also post your stories to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or your blog—just remember to post the link below (and make sure we have a way of getting in touch with you)!
I'm obviously not eligible for the giveaway, but just for fun, here's my microstory:
ReplyDelete“Y’ain’t from these parts, are ya?” slurred the swaggering bully, standing too close, his hand caressing his hunting knife, as his drunken buddies chuckled menacingly in the background.
“Nope,” she replied with a smile, unhinging her jaw and letting her tentacles unravel.
Thank you Hayley, this sounds like a fun challenge. I had a go:
ReplyDelete–Can you play it for me?
–Again?
–I'll sing the words, as usual.
–The other clients of the saloon don't like it, I'm gonna be in trouble.
–Please...
–Your heart must be longing for someone to come back.
–Yes, she replies, smiling, and hoping she got the summoning right this time.
This is where you go when you die, traveler,
ReplyDeletewhirling through the dust-choked air
with the tumbleweeds
and the jackrabbits for company.
It is not a bad life:
you still get your rest at night,
and children run to play,
to feed you grass,
sometimes flowers,
to watch them fly.
Dust rolls around the bare station.
ReplyDelete"You're new here," says the station guard.
The stranger's eyes pierce him sharper than the holstered lasers she carries ever could.
The speech about where's best to find a room for the night dies. "Welcome home," he says instead.
(Also posted on Twitter, here: https://twitter.com/Journeymouse/status/1089442732513349632)
"Lead won't put these rustlers down," Kit told the marshal. "They're already dead."
ReplyDeleteKit and the Marshal rode out to meet the outlaws armed with charmed torches, and the deputies carried shackles and shovels with which to bury the undead.
(also posted on Twitter @traceyulie)
Yosef rooted around in the wound and pulled out the slug. As he stood his shadow rolled over the alchemist's lifeless body.
ReplyDelete"Huh. I guess he was telling the truth"
He opened his palm. Beneath the blood the bullet was shimmering, slowly transforming into gold.
Just as dusk landed, the train whistle sounded long, didn't stop, just faded into the distance. Looks like the engine is gone, but we don't slow, chugging through the cooling desert. As the last of the sun sinks in dust, leathery wings flap atop our carriage. She came.
ReplyDeleteThe sherif looked horrified at the burnt houses and bodies, the air still clouded with smoke. Some had tried to escape, but didn't make it, their bodies horribly twisted in pain.
ReplyDelete–What happened? asked Nina, shocked.
–They must have messed with the witches again.
The preacher Abraham Haglin was killed in Oregon Territory in the spring of 1851. The Nez Perce caught him digging up a body. Dressed in black rags, matted beard soaked with drool, clawed fingers scrabbling dirt away from a red painted face: just a hungry dog digging up bones.
ReplyDeleteMaría looked to Jane as she loaded bullets into her rifle. "Your bullets enchanted?" asked Jane.
ReplyDeleteMaría checked her revolver, the ammo glowing. "Pure sunlight."
"Time to ride."
When warned the big ranchers sucked blood, they hadn't thought these were literal vampires...
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ReplyDelete"We don't serve your kind," the barman threatened.
ReplyDeleteThe elf turned to her brother. "See, I told you they can talk. Do you think it's true that they taste of dreams?"
Later that night they agreed humans did, indeed, taste of dreams. But they were sour. But still the elves claimed their manifest destiny.
Haha, I'm going to walk away now or I'll be tinkering with it forever!
Delete