Hi Everyone--
Today is
the publication day for my sixth book of poetry, an apocalyptic SF/Horror
collection titled The Apocalyptic Mannequin. This book is published through
Raw Dog Screaming Press and the cover art is done by Steven Archer.
I wrote
about my experience and influences writing these poems in an article via Speculative Chic (you can read the full article here), but I wanted to include a small snippet in this post
to give some more background on how this project came to be: "A few years
ago, I wrote a sci-fi/horror poem titled “The Apocalyptic Mannequin.” It’s a
post-apocalyptic robotic soliloquy that challenges the definition of body and
how it became reinterpreted when the world collapsed. See, after experimenting
with memoir and genre in my collection Sheet Music to My Acoustic Nightmare, I wanted to do
something completely different and really challenge myself to step out of my
comfort zone, so I grabbed my crossbow and axe and headed into my own version
of a science-fiction horror story while I contemplated the cause and effects of
the apocalypse and then mined the wreckage for scraps of poetry."
Please
consider adding the book to your TBR pile on Goodreads, picking up a copy
via Amazon, Raw Dog Screaming Press, or Barnes and Noble, and/or reviewing how my mannequin army
treated you on your favorite review site.
About the
book:
Doomsday
is here and the earth is suffering with each breath she takes. Whether it’s
from the nuclear meltdown, the wrath of the Four Horsemen, a war with
technology, or a consequence of our relationship with the planet, humanity is
left buried and hiding, our bones exposed, our hearts beating somewhere in our
freshly slit throats.
This is a
collection that strips away civilization and throws readers into the lives of
its survivors. The poems inside are undelivered letters, tear-soaked whispers,
and unanswered prayers. They are every worry you’ve had when your electricity
went out, and every pit that grew in your stomach watching the news at night.
They are tragedy and trauma, but they are also grief and fear, fear of who—or
what—lives inside us once everything is taken away.
These
pages hold the teeth of monsters against the faded photographs of family and
friends, and here, Wytovich is both plague doctor and midwife, both judge and
jury, forever searching through severed limbs and exposed wires as she
straddles the line evaluating what’s moral versus what’s necessary to survive.
What’s
clear though, is that the world is burning and we don’t remember who we are.
So tell
me: who will you become when it’s over?
What
They're Saying:
“Like a
doomsday clock fast-forwarding to its final self-destruction, Wytovich’s poetry
will give you whiplash as you flip through page after page. The writing here is
ugly yet beautiful. It reads like a disease greedily eating up vital organs.
The apocalypse has arrived and it couldn’t be more intoxicating!”—Max Booth
III, author of Carnivorous Lunar Activities
“In this
hauntingly sensuous new collection of poetry, you’ll long to savor every
apocalyptic nightmare you have ever feared. Blooming in the beauty of
destruction and the terror of delight, Stephanie M Wytovich’s poems remind us
that we feel the world better, love the world better, when we recognize the
ephemeral nature of everything achingly alive beyond our mannequin minds. Here,
we are captive to our deepest velvet snarls, zombie songs, and radioactive
wishes, at the mercy of a neon reaping. Reading this collection is like dancing
through Doomsday, intoxicated by the destructive, decadent truth of desire in
our very mortality. In these poems, you will find revelry in the ruins of
everything you once held dear — and you will love it to the last as you watch
the world unravel around you.”—Saba Syed Razvi, author of Heliophobia and In
the Crocodile Gardens
“Beautifully
bleak, Stephanie M. Wytovich’s latest collection posits scenarios of the
apocalypse and the horrors to come thereafter with language like fragrant hooks
in your skin. Vivid, each word a weight on your tongue, these poems taste of
metal and ash with a hint of spice, smoke. She reminds us the lucky ones die
first, and those who remain must face the horrors of a world painted in
blisters and fear. Leave it to Wytovich to show us there’s beauty in the end,
just beneath all that peeling, irradiated skin.”—Todd Keisling, author of Ugly
Little Things and Devil’s Creek
“Set in a
post-apocalyptic world that at times seems all too near, Wytovich’s poems
conjure up frighteningly beautiful and uncomfortably prescient imagery.
Populated by a cast of unsettling, compelling characters, this collection is
one that stuck with me.”—Claire C. Holland, author of I Am Not Your Final
Girl
“A surreal
journey through an apocalyptic wasteland, a world that is terrifyingly
reminiscent of our own even as the blare of evacuation alarms drowns out the
sizzle of acid rain, smiling mannequins bear witness to a hundred thousand
deaths, and “the forest floor grows femurs in the light of a skeletal moon.”
Stephanie M. Wytovich’s The Apocalyptic Mannequin is as unsettling as
it is lovely, as grotesque as it is exquisite.”—Christa Carmen, author of Something
Borrowed, Something Blood-Soaked
"Wytovich
is a witch goddess who weaves together shadows, cobwebs, skulls, and pain. She
is more than an author–she is a force of nature overflowing with incredible
power."- A.E. Siraki
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