Angels fall. Humans fall. We fall in love. We fly, and we fall, and sometimes we can’t tell the difference.
This month Apex brings you tales of flight, tales of plummeting, and tales of infinite chances. In many ways this month is a month of fresh starts and do–overs. It is March, after all, and in much of the world March is a month of change. The seasons change in all the hemispheres, the light balances and tips and shifts over the entire world.
March is a month of indefinites, of either–or, of it–could–go–both–ways. March is a threshold. It’s the edge of the precipice. We rise and soar, or we plummet.
This month, Sunny Moraine gives us “To Increase His Wondrous Greatnesse More,” a tale of a girl and her dragon and the choices such an arrangement offers. Cat Hellisen’s “Waking” presents a view of angels that compels the reader to the story’s end. “Undone,” by Mari Ness, gives a parallax view of a popular fairy tale. And Claire Humphrey’s “The End of the World in Five Dates” is a quiet and personal examination of a Cassandra’s gift of foretelling — what risks do we take when we know what will happen?
This month our non–fiction selection is “Invisible Bisexuality In Torchwood,” by K. Tempest Bradford. Our cover, “Ariadne,” is by Julie Dillon. Mari Ness’s “Waking” is our podcast, read by Windy Bowlsby. Maggie Slater interviews Claire Humphrey, and Loraine Sammy interviews artist Julie Dillon.
Elise Matthesen has two poems for us this March. “Tempus,” by J.J. Hunter mixes the divine with the prosaic. Ada Hoffman’s “The Parable of the Supervillain” presents a view of human relations I, personally, have never pondered in this light.
For subscribers/eBook only we have two features this month. The first section of J.M. McDermott’s MAZE will be available to those who subscribe to Apex Magazine. In addition, subscriptions/eBooks will contain a reprint of Jacqueline Carey’s story, “Actaeon.”
I don’t know what your experience of the world is, Dear Reader, but I, personally, relate to the stories in this issue. From week to week I think I know what is happening, I think I know where I am going. Sometimes I am right. Sometimes I am wrong. Sometimes I am right and everything is a mess anyway. Sometimes I am gloriously, delightfully wrong, and what I thought was falling turns into flight and I find myself soaring out of the old and into the new.
Throughout this issue we meet characters in transition, in motion, hurtling through threshold moments. Some of them are falling. Some are flying.