Available for Purchase October 2023...
Midnight Self: Stories
A collection of Uncanny tales that explore the dissociation
of being human and the humanity of being monstrous...
Midnight Self: Stories
A collection of Uncanny tales that explore the dissociation
of being human and the humanity of being monstrous...
Praise for Midnight Self
“Myths, pop culture, culture wars. A living, monstrous house. Death wearing khakis. Repolarized blood. Mediums. Extinction. Midnight Self is a collection of movies in a theater with one single chair: that is your skull on Van Young steroids. This is the kind of dark, great writing we need to understand our times.”
— Yuri Hererra, author of Ten Planets: Stories
“Midnight Self is an exceptional collection. Every story is perfectly, unnervingly off; every page offered an image or produced a feeling I could not shake. Adrian Van Young is a master of the uncanny.”
— Jac Jemc, author of The Grip of It and Empty Theatre
“An outstanding collection that skitters from a strange and gigantic skin thing to an oddly transforming doll, from a house that its owner can’t stop building to a house that consumes whoever it wants, from the uprising of the past Civil War dead to the rejuvenation of future semi-artificial animals, without ever giving the reader safe ground to stand on.”
— Brian Evenson, author of The Glassy, Burning Floor of Hell
“Myths, pop culture, culture wars. A living, monstrous house. Death wearing khakis. Repolarized blood. Mediums. Extinction. Midnight Self is a collection of movies in a theater with one single chair: that is your skull on Van Young steroids. This is the kind of dark, great writing we need to understand our times.”
— Yuri Hererra, author of Ten Planets: Stories
“Midnight Self is an exceptional collection. Every story is perfectly, unnervingly off; every page offered an image or produced a feeling I could not shake. Adrian Van Young is a master of the uncanny.”
— Jac Jemc, author of The Grip of It and Empty Theatre
“An outstanding collection that skitters from a strange and gigantic skin thing to an oddly transforming doll, from a house that its owner can’t stop building to a house that consumes whoever it wants, from the uprising of the past Civil War dead to the rejuvenation of future semi-artificial animals, without ever giving the reader safe ground to stand on.”
— Brian Evenson, author of The Glassy, Burning Floor of Hell