First query letter sent. And so, the journey begins.

I don’t know where I’m going with this pizza horror WIP, but I’m loving it.

Might as well do the thing!

For Liam.

ICE has killed 9 folks in the first 26 days of ‘26: • Alex Pretti • Renee Good • Keith Porter • Heber Sanchaz Domínguez • Victor Manuel Diaz • Parady La • Luis Beltran Yanez-Cruz • Luis Gustavo Nunez Caceres • Geraldo Lunas Campos They all deserve justice. And for us to remember their names.

There's an auction going for Minnesota! Loads of publishing-related lots and opportunities: have a look! www.32auctions.com/publishingfo...

Standing with and sending extra love to our Minneapolis bookstore friends and their entire community today 💜

Thanks again Steve! Not writing related but if you can, please help my home state of Minnesota: bsky.app/profile/naom...

Join us this Saturday at The Hideout for a fundraiser for the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant & Refugee Rights. Co-Sponsored with StoryStudio Chicago, and featuring a reading and panel with Nissa Rhee, Ananda Lima, Jose-Luis Moctezuma, me, and hosted by Michael Zapata.

It wasn't the human contact that bothered him. He could manage that. It was the necessity to continue to hold them as their bodies liquefied within his embrace, to became part of him. #HorrorWritersChat

Hours had passed, and I was not permitted to break the hug until the Creature was fully recharged. Legs and arms aching, mouth dry and cracked, I watched in despair as its battery display began to flicker and the percentage points starting going back down. #HorrorWritersChat

Cupboards slammed, lights flickered, and a few heavy nick knacks were tossed across the room... splaying her against a wall for the cacophony. Quick as it began, it ended, with a tea set upright in the center of the living room. The word 'Playdate' written in crayon on the cloth. #HorrorWritersChat

Annie smiled too wide and happily, holding her arms out and beckoning, the implicit warning of the rest of the Dream House glinting in her eyes. Sam swallowed her retch for the 4-hundredth time and forced herself forward, wrapping her arms around Annie's waist. Annie squeezed. #HorrorWritersChat

Q4. #Horrorwriterschat Dave is falling. No one can see. He can’t hear himself. When he refused to hug, he felt the sky tugging on him. But there was no one and nothing to grab when it happened. He screamed then, too, and now wonders how much more he can scream before the ground rises up to meet him…

#HorrorWritersChat Each hug is a gamble. Vesty's they call 'em, those that wear spiked vests underneath their jumpers. You can't see the three inch spikes 'cos they're retractable and work on a nifty hydraulic system. That last person was a vestie. I don't think this one is. Wish me luck.

#HorrorWritersChat Q4 Fail once, hug by the pleaser Fail twice, hug by the squeezer (does it make sense? no. but it got stuck in my head and it's too tired to let go of it lol)

National Hugging Day. Squirrels are meat. Sweatpants and granola bars don't exist yet. Playdates are for children who have homes and futures that aren't soaked in blood. Her body isn't for comfort or casual contact, but to survive. Hugging Day demands what to her is obscene. #HorrorWritersChat

Jacinda recoils. "I'm NOT Hugging that thing!" Grill Man groans. "I just wanna grill maaan!" the animatronic groans. "You're not a man, Jacinta, you should be safe," I remind her. 😉 #HorrorWritersChat Q4 (Art by Pierre 99Designs)

#HorrorWritersChat Zombie Ethan hated International Hugging Day since his rotting body parts fell off whenever someone did that to him. So, he covered his clothing with caustic chemicals before anyone approached him for a hug. They'd dissolve right before his eyes. Best day of his undead life!

#HorrorWritersChat "Do it! Do it!" They all chant around her. Raven sees the man with the axe, waiting for her to fail again. She breathes in, then slowly shuffles towards the mangy straw scarecrow, closing her eyes she reaches out and hugs it. Everyone cheers and finally it is tossed on the fire.

Q3. #HorrorWritersChat “Granola Day?” Wise asks “Granola Day.” Archie says. “Do we get the day off for that?” Wise says, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Nick strums on his guitar. “No. You work extra.” Wise points a drumstick at him. “Guys?” Archie says. “I’m bleeding. Honey—and oats? Uhh…”

He's already failed once, but he can't damn it! If They find out will come for him, lock him in a cell until it's his turn to go to the dungeons, where the unable to obey go, and he'll slowly rot there. But he can't. He can't! Hugs. Contact. Skin against skin. No! He'd rather die! #HorrorWritersChat

#HorrorWritersChat They don't know how they failed. They don't know why. They just knew that if the hug isn't performed in exactly the right way, with the right amount of pressure and length of time, it was deemed "wrong" by The Eye. And if they failed one more time, they'd undergo The Final Hug.

As she walked down the street, she did not notice the passerby, and a hug was not given by either party. The cameras caught the whole affair; police were sent for their capture. Tomorrow, they both will endure public punishment: facing the ultimate hug creature. #HorrorWritersChat

#Horrorwriterschat "I am not... hugging you," said Indy. "International day of it, bud," said Sara. "Let's go." "In my culture, a hug is an important part of the marriage ceremony." "Oh." "During the, uh, consummation of --" "OH! ...we can skip it this year."

It wasn't their bodies that scared her, but their clothes, which had a life of their own. The coral frill that wafted in still air. A button that lifted like a nictitating membrane to reveal an eye. But only when you got close would the garments truly show what they could do. #HorrorWritersChat

Barney became a No-Holds, desperate to meet the mandate and aggressively hugging everyone without permission. Trying to hug the cop at 34th and Vine was the 9th person he went for; the officer was acquitted for using excessive force, but he still regretted having to kill him... #Horrorwriterschat

#HorrorWritersChat “I’m sorry,” the burly man says. “I just got too… excited.” They look at him, and then the body on the floor. Bent in half, spine shattered, blood leaking out. “Maybe we should cancel the holiday,” someone politely suggests. “No!” The man roars. “Now, who’s next?”

Jeeze, Ed, why don’t we take your finger out of the nice lady’s eye socket. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I was trying to do it, for the day. I just— I know. Let’s try again, just you in me, before they know the difference. She’ll be fine. I can’t. Just try again. #horrorwriterschat

Reid Clade turns to Belle Bonham, his first human friend ever. She holds out her arms for him. He falls into them. That hug might have lasted forever...if Sasha the snowy owl didn't try to cut in. And yes, she had a dead squirrel in her talons. #HorrorWritersDay

The partner they chose for her gave a tight smile. "It's okay. We still have another try." She gritted her teeth as he leaned in. Her heart thundered in her ears. Just 15 seconds. His arms closed around her, but his touch set her nerves on fire. She instinctively jerked back. #HorrorWritersChat

#HorrorWritersChat From The Last Airing Of WSBN (Finale planned for April): "The times I thought of to share that embrace with her, not as lovers, but as friends. I denied them and kept myself at a distance, but now I wish I experienced them at least once. That's why I'm glad you're here now."

I tried again, but my arms just slipped through. That damn machine. And now I couldn't even touch it to fix it. I stared at thousands, lined up behind me, staring without blinking, smiling with those big, vacant mouths, arms outstretched, but I couldn't even tell them why. #horrorwriterschat

The screens around the mall zoomed in on his face, showing him alone whilst strangers clung to strangers. He quickly wrapped his arms around himself, hugging the one body he wanted to keep alive. His logic sent the computer into a doom loop. It gave him much-needed time. He fled. #HorrorWritersChat.

#Horrorwriterschat Agnes was sure a figure lurked just past the threshold. With a gasp, she withdrew from an embrace she'd craved since first meeting the widower. Mr. Delacourt turned warily to the door. Nothing was there. Feeling foolish, she held out her arms to try again. Ravenfield Hall (2027)

At this point shes certain that Raven takes sick pleasure in testing her. As much as the woman cant stand to see Elle's attention turned towards another at any other time, she seems to relish in directing the maids to participate in this "hug day;" even after last year's incident #HorrorWritersChat

Arisa from my slasher WIP would definitely despise sweatpants day. Knowing her snobbish nature and desire to be a top fashion designer, she would regard sweatpants as the “lowest” form of fashion. #HorrorWritersChat

Q.3: My current WIP character is a robot detective snowed in at a mediocre hotel, cut off from the internet and the outside world. I'm not sure they would have any use for any of these days, save to try and understand the nature of the murderers they investigate. #HorrorWritersChat

"Don't worry, buddy. You'll get a hug soon." "Are you sure?" *nods, dragging Alien egg.* "Totally. Just put your face *right* here." "Hey, it's opening!" "Yup!" "Wait... that doesn't look--" *SLAP* *helps him to the floor.* "Look at you, all ready for chest bursting day tomorrow!" #horrorwriterschat

#HorrorWritersChat There's so many of them. Rows and rows of people like flesh robots, avoiding his eyes. His head pounds. Something jabs him in the back. "Quit holding up the line!" Get it over with, get it over with. If you faint it doesn't count. He knows that. His vision goes dark anyway.

#HorrorWritersChat Q4: I can't afford another miss. It was hard enough last year, the sight makes everyone uncomfortable. No one comes near me for anything but pity. I need them to let me hug them... there's nothing left to take. If they take the other arm too, how will I save myself?

#HorrorWritersChat The penalty for failure was death. He'd lost track of how long he'd been carrying out his sentence for. All he knew was that his bones were creaking, joints were screaming. Arms so sore they were almost numb, but still he had to keep hugging. Only when dead could he stop.

#HorrorWritersChat The man's body is on the ground, limp with a plethora of bullet holes. "Sorry, I thought he was coming at me." The next person in line comes up for a hug. A new magazine gets injected into the pistol.

#HorrorWritersChat He retracted his knee from the stranger's groin, arguing that reciprocation wasn't limited to hugging someone back The stranger looked up at him with a sick smile, and said; "Good thing the good Lord gave me two! And a tip!" So all he could do was run Into the arms of another!

#HorrorWritersChat When zombie Ethan Harris in TRAILER TRASH ZOMBIES was broke, he lived on (pardon the pun) squirrel meat for months. It was dreadful! He celebrates Internat'l Squirrel Appreciation Day by eating prime pseudomeat & Bloody Bull cocktails while shooting squirrels with a pellet gun.

There's a hostile bite to their glares. They surround you, preventing your escape. There is only one path - uphill. On the greying grass. Towards the oak, whose shallow, wet breaths reverberate across the ancient fens. Jewelled ears clink-clink in the air from its branches. #HorrorWritersChat

#HorrorWritersChat It wasn't their fault that their target's knife slipped last time. Maybe it was a bad idea to try to hug someone who was cutting onions. Regardless, they would try to honor the mandatory participation when they weren't in an industrial kitchen.

#HorrorWritersChat None of these days would register. Domestic psychopaths operate to their own calendar.

#HorrorWritersChat I'm Trish Wilson, Media Director for The Horror Zine. I conduct author interviews. I write quiet horror & horror comedy. My favorite International Day is Steak & BJ Day, since it falls on my birthday. How embarrassing. LOL I also like International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Yar!