That Old, Misty Country, 1

Throughout the world is found myriad out-of-the-way places, unsettling vistas that travelers pass through quickly, if unable to avoid entirely. Sometimes, the fears dredged up by such places are unfounded, a mere symptom of an unfamiliar road. Of course, there are actual places to be feared too. Masked by vagaries and altered names, a careful listener may find some clue - subtle to the uninitiated, bold elsewise - that a macabre tale comes from such a place, one stranger and to be feared beyond all others. Shiver at the revelation and hope someone similarly knowledgeable has merely latched onto the rumors, deciding by their own twisted purview to attach a lie to something so horribly true.

In short, Hope It's Fiction.

That Old, Misty Country is a collection of twelve stories centered in the titular region, each drenched in horrific implications. This first book in the Hope It's Fiction series focuses on the three cities therein - Passerport, Esterton, and Brickwood - as well as the dense, impassable woods that surround the area. There are terrible things lurking under the sky-blotting canopy, hidden in the fog that rises each night. And what of Mr. Brightmore, the philanthropist? Begin to uncover the strange mysteries that permeate throughout the night as thickly as the mist itself.

Learn why you should be off the roads before night falls in stories like Breakdown and Oh, How I Hate The Trees. Even some distance from the tree line may prove unsafe, as in Settle, Ye Wanderer, Rat-Catcher, and The Anderson Plight. Not even the towns are altogether free from risk, as shown by An Awkward Conversation, Mimiko, and The Thirsty Man. Know that others are investigating the strange occurrences - A Ribbon of Text, That Old, Misty Country, and Bits and Pieces - but how successful their efforts, or how comforting the existence of those forces are, are open to interpretation.

Do not be overly entranced by these tales of unsettling and thought-provoking horror, even with their subtle suggestions toward even grander terrors. All you need to do is Hope It's Fiction.
About the Author: Even as a young child, Pendleton Weiss exhibited signs of being the melancholic, creative type. Intelligent and shy, he kept to myself throughout school; never partied in college and graduation came upon him during one of his country's economic lows. Thus, he found very mundane work not at all in line with his degrees.

For a full seven years, for the lack of a vehicle, he walked five miles to work at the early hours between two and five AM, with little but his own pocket flashlight to guide him along the dark trail. This gave him plenty of time to stir his creative juices and grew his appreciation of horror, one beyond the simple affinity for the creature features of his young. The repetition - day after day - walking that same path until its twists and turns became second nature; every change became inescapably noticeable, revealing the effects of weather, alterations for landscaping projects, or another lonesome traveler out during those grim hours.

There was plenty of time to think and plenty of imagery to inspire.