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Call for Associate Editors!


We’re recruiting! PodCastle is looking to add additional associate editors (also referred to as slush readers) to our team.

PodCastle is an SFWA short fiction market. We’re in need of associate editors who can read and comment upon at least 10–20 stories a week during three to four reading periods spread throughout the year. You’ll be asked to help us select engaging, diverse, well-written, and thought-provoking stories from our unsolicited submissions queue. The most successful slushers will be familiar with our work and be able to identify a good fit. It helps if you’re familiar with our episodes and our submission guidelines. If selected, you will still be able to submit to PodCastle (and any other Escape Artists podcast).

We’re dedicated to publishing fiction that reflects the entire spectrum of the human experience. We acknowledge the realities of unconscious bias and make our best effort to account for it during our review process and expect every one of our associate editors to do the same. 

This is an unpaid, volunteer position. However, we take lowering the barriers to publication and experience seriously and do our best to help associate editors gain experience. We will happily write letters of recommendation or references for both academic and employment applications for our readers.

EA is a tight-knit, welcoming, and inclusive group. We encourage you to ask around about us and our reputation or contact us directly if you have any questions.

If you would like to join our team, please complete our Associate Editor application form. We will be accepting applications until March 1, 2020.

We hope to hear from you soon!

Jen Albert and Cherae Clark, Co-editors
Setsu Uzume, Assistant Editor
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PodCastle 614: White Noon

Show Notes

Rated PG-13.


White Noon

By Aidan Doyle

The dogs’ barking let me know I had visitors. I reluctantly left my chair by the fire, pulled on my boots, and took my thundergun from its place on the wall. I rarely had any visitors apart from Magnus, which was how the dogs and I liked it.

When I opened the cabin door, the sun’s brightness made me squint. The sky was bluer than a husky’s eyes. Most folks enjoyed summer’s months of continual sunlight, but I preferred the peace of winter’s darkness. Nobody but a lover expects things of you when it’s dark.

I walked across the crisp snow, my breath appearing as a mist in front of me. A ten-dog team pulling a sled with two people in it drew to a halt outside my cabin. The two figures stepped off the sled, one of them crouching down to check the dogs and the other striding towards me. I recognized Kristin’s loping gait before I could make out her face. She always looked as though she was in a hurry to reach tomorrow. It had been years since I’d seen my sisters.

Kristin wore a heavy coat with wanted posters stitched onto it. All of the villains had their faces crossed out. A pair of silver thunderguns rested in holsters by her side.

“It’s a fine day for sledding,” Kristin said. Her tone suggested that only the most inglorious of cowards would disagree.

“Fine day for staying warm,” I replied. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 613: TALES FROM THE VAULTS — Hoywverch

Show Notes

Rated PG.


Hoywverch

By Heather Rose Jones

Elin verch Gwir Goch oed yn arglwydes ar Cantref Madruniawn wrth na bo i’w thad na meibion na brodyr. A threigylgweith dyvot yn y medwl vynet y hela. Ac wrth dilyt y cwn, hi a glywei llef gwylan. Ac edrych i fyny arni yn troi, a synnu wrthi. A’y theyrnas ymhell o’r mor. Ac yna y gelwi i gof ar y dywot y chwaervaeth Morvyth pan ymadael ar lan Caer Alarch: Os clywhych gwylan yn wylo, sef minnau yn wylo amdanat. A thrannoeth cyvodi a oruc ac ymadael a’y theulu a’y niver a’y chynghorwyr, a marchogaeth a oruc tra doeth i’r mor.

Elin, the daughter of Gwir Goch, ruled over the cantref of Madrunion, for her father had neither sons nor brothers. And one day it came into her mind to go hunting. As she was riding after the hounds, she heard the cry of a seagull and looked up to see a white bird circling overhead. She marveled at it, for her lands were far from the sea. And then she remembered what her foster-sister Morvyth had said when they parted on the shore by Caer Alarch: “When you hear a gull crying, that will be me — crying for you.” And the next morning she took leave of her household and her warriors and her counselors and rode west for the sea. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 612: She Searches for God in the Storm Within

Show Notes

Rated PG-13.


She Searches for God in the Storm Within

By Khaalidah Muhammad-Ali

When I arrived at my grandmother’s, in the stillness of predawn, like some restless cat stalking, she was waiting for me on the front porch. It was as if she’d been expecting me. I suppose if she had been watching the sky, she was, because I could be seen for miles. My scarf had come unwrapped and my hair had unfurled into a roiling trail of luminescent heaped up clouds threatening to burst.

The air was thick with the metallic scent of rain and sweet jasmine. I stopped just inside the gate when I caught sight of my grandmother, chest heaving, trying with great difficulty to thin my lowering nimbus into one more presentable. All the excuses I’d contrived for why I was coming to her home at this unseemly hour, after all these years away from home, dissolved.

I did not need them. She would not judge me. She would welcome me home. (Continue Reading…)