Editor’s Letter Issue 10

With these pages here we mark ten Issues of Seaside Gothic. From a singular concept borne of a desire to collect scraps combed from the literary beachscape which matched words of my own expression, this net has hauled might and heft.

In that time the world has changed more than I care to consider. Machines have risen to try to write and we have held our line against them. Misinformation has changed the course of generations. Those in most need have been shunned through hatred. Empathy has gone. Change is feared. Righteousness is the new currency but it is not one we trade in. This here is a place of shelter, not judgement. If you breathe, you can linger with us.

If you are new to our cove, here there be monsters and love and plenty of rum. We are a tribe of salt and sand, a lost shoal of mismatched fish dabbling in the shallows. You are welcome by our fire. Sit, rest, and read our works. If you wander on you will still see our beacon lit at the shoreline. There is plenty to comb in the shingle.

To those who have stayed with us in this shifting shanty town from the beginning, those who have joined as we remained, and those who visit from time to time, we love you all. This is a transient place of movement and mooring. Pass through or remain, but please know you are of us, from us, with us, and for us, as we are of you, from you, with you, and for you.

We will keep our fire warm for all those who wish to sit by it. Seaside Gothic is for those who are drawn to the edge, and being here makes you a seasider. When you live at the edge of the land and the sea, no other borders matter. This is home.