Fall just got a whole lot better. Issue 9 of Book Worms Horror Zine lands in early October—just in time to curl up with some scares while sharpening your pencil for Pencilween. The theme? Folk Horror. Expect everything you love from us: chilling fiction, eerie poetry, clever articles, sharp reviews, plus comics, puzzles, games, and artwork that makes you laugh, squirm, and maybe sleep with the lights on.
But this issue isn’t just another Halloween special—it comes with a secret. Subscribers (our beloved Grub Club Members) will find a coded message tucked inside, along with your very own decoder wheel to crack it.
Think spooky cereal-box prize, but grown-up and cooler. If you’ve been thinking about subscribing, this is the time.
🎃 And of course, October also means Pencilween—our third annual drawing challenge.
Whether you’re a doodler, a pro, or someone who just likes to draw goofy pumpkins, Pencilween is for you. Each day has a prompt: grab a pencil, scratch it out, and share online with #pencilween2025. The fun part? People take it in every direction—ink, paint, markers, collage, even face art. The point isn’t perfection. It’s about stepping away from the screens, making something real, and joining the weird little community that forms around it.
So if you’re not already following Book Worms Horror Zine on Instagram, now’s the time. Between Folk Horror chills, decoder-wheel thrills, and Pencilween creativity, this October is officially the best thing to happen to autumn since pumpkin spice.
This Week’s Online Delight: Dev Lemons
Lately, I’ve been obsessed with Dev Lemons. I first stumbled on her videos, not even realizing she was a musical artist. Her videos look like a glitchy ’90s video game fever dream: silly, strange, and ridiculously fun. The character she is playing is serious about “doing long term” with the viewer. Upset her and she will probably bop you on the head, causing the screen to flash red.
Of course, I had to try to figure out how she makes them. I went down the rabbit hole, searching online for tutorials—nothing. Zero. Zilch. My current theory is it’s some unholy mix of stitched-together photos, weird frame rates, and graphics that look like they crawled out of an old PlayStation. Whatever sorcery it is, I can’t crack it, and honestly, that makes them even cooler. If you have an idea how these videos were created, please leave a comment.
She’s clever, she’s weird, and it’s authentically her. The kicker? Because she’s so original, I ended up discovering her new album—something I probably wouldn’t have found if she had just been posting videos saying, “Check out my new release.” Lesson to creators: entertain first, be yourself, and people will find your art.
🛒 Thrift Store Find of the Week:
This week, I went to a church rummage sale. Thrifting tip: church sales are the best. Whether they call it a rummage sale, yard sale, or flea market, it doesn’t matter—this is where you’ll find the rare gems (mixed in with plenty of junk). The church folks see it as supporting their congregation, and it’s also a chance for Barbara and Edith to drink coffee and compare knitting notes. They practically give everything away just to make a few bucks for the church.
Here’s why it works: older people don’t want to deal with yard sales, dragging boxes to thrift stores, or figuring out eBay. So they donate vintage treasures that just get tossed in a box and hauled to the church. They don’t know the value—and honestly, they don’t care. It’s basically a modern-day “selling of indulgences”: hand over your old stuff, drop a box at the church, and maybe score a fast pass to heaven.
That said, if the church in question preaches against what you believe, you might want to skip that particular rummage sale. No reason to give money to charities that go against your values.
Now, onto this week’s score. Normally, this sale delivers, but it was a little light this time. Still, I walked out with something special: two Battlestar Galactica puzzles from 1978. That’s not easy to find. They were 50 cents each, and I’m happy to report that the first one I built has all its pieces. You might laugh at the 170-piece count, but lately I’ve switched from building 500–1000-piece puzzles to smaller ones. Why?
I like the challenge of trying to finish a puzzle quickly.
They don’t eat up too much of my time.
My cats usually destroy puzzles that sit out for a few days.
With these smaller sets, I can finish in one sitting, get that sweet dopamine hit, and move on to the next one. Plus, I get to share the builds with my ten-year-old son, whom I just introduced to the 1978 Galactica show. So yeah, this was a pleasant find.
Take it easy,
James