#eco-horror

[emmartian]

Hey, I've been using this for fun and fanart but this time indulge me talking about some work I also did out of fun and love: Anzuelo.

Anzuelo is my new graphic novel, and so you have an idea, I started this in 2020. It took a fairly long chunk of my life.

The synopsis reads as follows:

"The Sea, secretly more complex than anyone imagined, rises one day. The horizon folds as the Sea absorbs the world and transforms everything that's been pulled inside it. Three kids find themselves unmoored and lost, but brought together by the physical and mental changes wrought by the tides and a desire to avoid harming any living creature.

A gorgeous and brutal story that revolts against the notion of violence as the only response to a life without hope."

It's a long environmental-horror book in which I tried to write a love letter to the Sea. 300+ pages all hand-drawn in watercolors.

I wrote and drew this alone, with the help of a couple of friends: David Brothers, editor of the book, and occasional therapist xd. And Luis Yang, who has assisted me cleaning the pages and was a big help preventing this to take forever. I wouldn't have made it without them.

Also big thanks to Image Comics for supporting me always and especially with this crazy project, and for their policies of freedom and decency when it comes to creators' rights.

Anzuelo will reach local comic stores on November 6. You can ask you LCS for it with this Lunar code until Oct 14: 0924IM243. It will also be on other independent stores etc... on November 19.

It will also be available across digital platforms.

If you're curious here's more info

It eve n got a Starred Review on Publishers Weekly already, you can find it through this link

Thanks for reading through this! I really hope you find the book interesting.

[steampunkforever]

Eco-Horror has been around for awhile. King Kong is Eco-horror (and also about racism if you ask Tarantino) The creature from the Black Lagoon is Eco-Horror. Godzilla is Eco-Horror. Every film from the 50s you've seen about giant ants destroying cities is Eco-Horror. The Birds is eco horror, but something I'm noticing with Sam Elliot Eco-Horror film "Frogs" is the shift in its Eco-Horror messaging from Atomic Anxiety to a focus on environmental issues.

Your average blob or giant tarantula or aforementioned giant ants tend to be irradiated city destroyers, foreign, mindless monsters dead set on destroying American cities, suburbs, and the concept of Apple Pie. It's a wonder they didn't just stencil "CCCP" on the side of those giant grasshoppers from "Beginning of the End."

Frogs, on the other hand, is a much more personal film about the impact of pollution on sensitive ecosystems. There is no giant bullfrog stomping across Manhattan, the real horror here is enacted by normal Florida flora and fauna, like alligators, snakes, birds, lizards, and sentient spanish moss. It's interesting.

As far as movies go, Frogs is both excellent and not very good. The quality of the writing, production, and most of the acting (with the exception of our beloved Sam Elliot who carries the production on his back) is about on par with that of a Haliki production of the same era. The titular frogs are almost exclusively toads, actually, according to those I watched the film with, and overall the film is about as corny as you would expect.

The good thing is that overall the film is about as corny as you would expect. It's funny, its a bit zany, if unintentionally, and I love the way the plain camera and costuming really remind you that it's 1972 in here. For all its flaws, I can't think of a lot of bad things to say about the movie. Why would I be mad about watching Frogs 1972 when I signed up to watch Frogs 1972, other than the fact that there weren't enough Frogs in Frogs 1972.

Sam Elliot is still an absolute cutie in it too.

[herewithinthevoid]

The Bay (2012)

3.4/5

Can be found on YouTube as of 04/22/25

[miss-licoris]

don't litter

(that's a little horror story in four frames)

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

This week on Solarpunk Presents Podcast, Ariel chats with Selena Middleton, Publisher and Editor of Stelliform Press, all about publishing eco-fiction. What is eco-horror, and how does it relate to solarpunk fiction? What are the hallmarks of a good solarpunk story, according to Selena? How does history fit into visions of the future, and what does character have to do with it? Join us as we discuss all this and more.

Links: Stelliform Press website - https://www.stelliform.press/ Depart! Depart! by Sim Kern - https://www.stelliform.press/index.php/product/kern-depart-depart/ Another Life by Sarena Ulibarri - https://www.stelliform.press/index.php/product/another-life-by-sarena-ulibarri/ Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris - https://www.stelliform.press/index.php/product/green-fuse-burning/ The House of Drought by Dennis Mombauer - https://www.stelliform.press/index.php/product/the-house-of-drought-by-dennis-mombauer/

[witchstone]

Gaia (2021)

[sequ0iart]

algal bloom ghost orb ☣️

insta | twitter | prints & merch

[evanthenerd83]

It Made Them

All we found were their bodies.

When the thing came and went, we descended upon the town. The name eluded us.

It was small, at least. Small and isolated. Encased in thick woodlands, roads clogged by trees, which were cleaved by streams.

Somewhere in Oregon.

The population rested at a meager 1,007 year-round. No tourism.

When we descended upon the town, the pits were still smoking. Fires were just about to die.

Hundreds of us—men and women, all belonging to one three-letter agency or another—sifted through their contents. We wore suits meant for virologists.

We didn’t know why.

Whatever had happened, it wasn’t a virus.

A virus wouldn’t cause people to gather in the center of that pitifully tiny town.

A virus—not even a mental illness—couldn’t have led all 1,007 residents into those pits.

A virus didn’t force them to pass around those canisters.

Or pour their contents all over themselves.

Or use matches, sticks, toothpicks, anything, anything at all.

We all knew that. Our superiors did, too. They had access to information from previous occurrences.

Previous occurrences… bah.

Previous incidents.

Whatever had happened, it had happened before.

Way too many times. Hundreds of times, throughout recorded history. Before the existence of our little clubs, those three letter agencies, or the formation of the U.S. government itself.

Not everyone knew that. Only us.

We had gathered the records, kept them hidden in vaults operated by dead machines and guarded by men without names. The historians we failed to bribe or intimidate, we hid them, too.

Roanoke was just one. The earliest one. The trigger for this whole game.

But it was just the first. There were others. These were lesser known. More enigmatic. Inexplicable.

In 1999, thirty-five campers—college students—threw themselves off a cliff, one by one. Their bodies laid in heaps. Piles.

Before that, during the winter of 1976, a family staying at a remote cabin in Colorado simply walked out, barefoot, into a snowstorm. They were found not far from the front door. They died.

Frozen.

On and on, it goes. Mass suicides. Groups of people, always more than two, killed themselves.

It could have been through fire. Or ice. Once, a team of oceanographers drowned themselves. Another team drank salt water until they died.

Died.

Death.

We never found out why.

There probably wasn’t a reason why. Maybe people just snapped, losing themselves in nature.

An anomalous strain of cabin fever.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was something else.

Something less morbidly benign.

Something more sinister.

An influence on human behavior.

A force.

Whatever it was, it must have hated us. Hated us like we hated it. Viewed us like how we viewed deer and fish; animals ready for the slaughter, mindless, dumb.

Treated us like how we treated nature.

Like its own little playthings.

While we sifted through the bodies, charred black, eyes running like yolk, skin peeling off of bones, a word popped into my mind. It came without warning. It hit me like a truck.

I paused.

Sacrifice.

Whatever had happened, it was a sacrifice.