I got shot about a year ago, and as I was staggering through my yard to get help I fell into this old open well I never got around to covering. At the bottom, in severe pain and losing a lot of blood, only one thought filled my mind: What is The Strange Edge?

What is The Strange Edge? It’s the thin line of intersection between stories that are weird in setting, weird in character, weird in plot, weird in form, and weird in aesthetic, but that still remain essentially readable to those of us who haven’t been sentenced to seven years in an MFA program. It’s a flavor of soft-serve Bizarro featuring chunks of absurdism and postmodernism in a base of the surreal. It’s an uncomfortable mix of the brows, high and low, that weaves in and out of transgressive zones and into the fantastic. It’s the lobster-faced baby Kafka hid in his vault for Kharms to find and eat after escaping the Gulag. It’s an Ionesco script acted out by Monty Python and filmed by Guy Maddin.

In short, it’s a magazine of weird fiction.

But how is it different from other magazines of weird fiction?

Well, question guy, I guess that remains to be seen. While the works published in the Strange Edge might find homes in other markets, some will go to Lit journals, some to Bizarro mags, some to fabulist or slipstream anthologies, some to more rigidly defined irrealist or absurdist markets, some to humor collections. All of these “brands” of oddity should be able to find a home under the same roof because, at least in this editor’s opinion, they have far more in common with one another than they do with the core material in the other genres. An author publishing weird material in fantasy markets may never be discovered by a reader of weird material in horror markets. And that just makes me want to cry.

Welcome home, weird fiction. Hang your hat and microwave a hotdog.

— G. Arthur Brown, Chief Editor, 7/21/2014.



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