About

The Lovely Corpse is an online fanzine focusing on both fiction and non-fiction of the horror, sci-fi, macabre, occult, weird and strange variety, published with no fixed schedule.

If you would like to submit work for publication in The Lovely Corpse, or have any questions or concerns, reach editor Drew Carley at thelovelycorpse at gmail dot com

Popular posts from this blog

In Praise Of...Halloween

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  Welcome to the first entry in our new non-fiction series In Praise Of… , where we talk about a person or element of horror pop-culture that we feel is worthy of praise. This week we discuss... Little wolf skin boots And clove cigarettes An erotic funeral For which she's dressed Her perfume smells like Burning leaves Every day is Halloween -Type O Negative, “Black No. 1” Naturally, I fell in love with Halloween as a child. Any celebration as a child is magical. Christmas, Easter, hell, even other people’s birthdays. It’s a break from the norm, the boring dullness of not being allowed to do anything you want. And people may even give you stuff! For me as a child, and I suspect most children feel the same way, Halloween rivaled even the be-all-end-all kid’s favorite holiday of Christmas. Sure, there was trick or treating and dressing up in scary costumes, which is always fun. There was also the lead up though: Trips to Party City, endlessly thinking about what your costume was ...
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Minnows In The Shallows - Part I

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  Part I: Party In The USA It was 7pm and James was sitting in a booth in the diner that he’d been frequenting lately, nursing a cup of black coffee. His head was killing him, he was sweating profusely, and he felt freezing cold despite being in a small southwestern town at the ass end of summer and wearing a denim jacket. James was at the end of a hardcore bender, one that he wasn’t even sure you could recover from.   He knew the name of the town he was in, Rancin. And he knew that the name of the diner he was in, simply called ‘Diner’, but had no idea what state Rancin was in. He’d been wandering the country for a while now-Weeks? Months? He couldn’t remember- a drug fueled trip around and right through the heart of America.  Rancin was in the southwest, he knew that much. How could one think otherwise? It was a dusty little strip of land surrounded by desert. Calling it a town was being generous. There was the diner (DINER in big bold weathered letters on it’s rus...
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My Wedding Story

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This was originally written and published to r/DarkTales on Reddit in '17. I left my house that cold october morning in my best sunday suit and with a smile on my face. Walking down those creaky wooden stairs, a spring in my step, I waved to Mr. Donovan. I could see his head over the picket fence separating our yard, oxblood on my side, a stained wood, all weather finish on his. He was just finishing up his yard work, mowing his lawn probably for the last time that season, as frost had already started to form on our lawns in the morning. He saw me, waved back, called “How ya doin’, Chip? How’s the fiance?” “Never better,” I replied, grinning ear to ear, my eyes narrowing with my immense smile. “But she won’t be my fiance for long. Today’s the wedding day!” He took a step back, a look of mock shock on his face. “Ooooh boy! Already?! Time sure does fly!” “It sure does,” I said. “Well, congratulations. I only hope the best for you, Chip.” “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. I’ll tell her you sai...
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