I’ve always been a fan of the post-apoc genre. There’s something cool about rebuilding a world – being forced to rebuild a world – while having some knowledge and relics of the world before.
(There’s something even cooler about the concept of the post-apoc cargo cult, worshiping relics of a world you know longer know or remember. But that’s a story for another day.)
Add to that fascination a Cold-War childhood with the nebulous sense that the end is nigh, and a fondness for those comic takedowns that point out that damage done by super-human fights (Kingdom Come comes to mind), and you have the beginnings of the Faerie Apocalypse setting.
What happens when the monsters fighting to take over the world and the heroes fighting to save it are the same sort of being? What happens when their fights destroy as much property as the “bad guys” originally did on their own? What happens, in short, when hundreds of super-powered people suddenly start fighting over territory occupied by millions of humans?
What happens is an apocalypse, a faerie apocalypse. And it is in the middle of that mess that “Monster Godmother,” my short story, takes place.