Newfangle Press

One of these books has vampires. The other has a seventeen-year-old high-school dropout trying to figure out what he's supposed to do with the rest of his life. We published both. There's a reason. The Ingénue takes place in a Cincinnati where Sorcha Mackenzie's disappearance on Halloween night drags mortals into the cold, ash-gray machinery of the undead. Fortunate Son takes place in a sweltering 1992 small-town America where Moe Richards is drowning in anxiety and trying to figure out what family actually means when the bloodline is broken. On the surface, they share nothing. One is a dark supernatural novel about things that bite; the other is a raw, grounded coming-of-age story about a kid standing on the edge of a trackless summer. Except both are interested in what happens when people inherit circumstances they didn't choose: family, history, expectations, damage. The things handed to us before we ever get a say in what we're carrying. One book has vampires....

There is an entire ecosystem out there dedicated to making everything frictionless and weightless. Endless scrolling, algorithms deciding what might hold your attention for another few seconds, stories becoming content becoming something else to swipe past. We miss paper. We miss ink. We miss the counterexample to disposability—something somebody made and somebody chose to keep, carrying the physical weight of months of isolated, agonizing work dragged out of the dark. Newfangle Press didn't start because we thought the world needed another content mill. It started because we wanted to publish stories that feel like they were written by someone sitting across a table from you in a room with bad lighting and a cold cup of coffee. Stories that don't apologize for being strange, dark, or quietly devastating. If you’ve noticed us being quiet for the last couple of years, congratulations: you’re paying closer attention than most of the internet. But we aren't going to offer up a...