D. T. Neal photo

D. T. Neal

Born in Missouri, growing up in Ohio, and settling in Chicago, D. T. Neal has always written fiction, but only got really serious about it in the late 90s. He brings a strong Rust Belt perspective to his writing, a kind of "Northern Gothic" aesthetic reflective of his background.

Writing his first novel at 29, he then devoted time to his craft and worked on short stories, occupying a space between genre and literary fiction, with an emphasis on horror, science fiction, and fantasy. He has seen some of his short stories published in “Albedo 1,” Ireland's premier magazine of speculative fiction, and he won second place in their Aeon Award in 2008 for his short story, “Aegis.” He has lived in Chicago since 1993, and is a passionate fan of music, a student of pop culture, an avid photographer and bicycler, and enjoys cooking.

He has published six novels, “Saamaanthaa,” “The Happening,” and “Norm”—collectively known as The Wolfshadow Trilogy—“Chosen,” “Suckage,” and the cosmic folk horror-comedy thriller, “The Cursed Earth.” He has also published three novellas—“Relict,” “Summerville,” and “The Day of the Nightfish.”

AWARDS:

• 2008 Aeon Award, Second Place for “Aegis”

• 2009 Honorable Mention, “Best Horror of the Year,” edited by Ellen Datlow for “Aegis” and “Rotgut.”

• Runner-up, 2013 Best New Novel by a Chicagoan, Chicago Reader, for “Suckage”

• Shortlisted for the 2012 Aeon Award for “Day of the Nightfish.”


“Middling monsters died at the point of pitchforks, burned with torches, or at the butt of silver-capped canes wielded by angry, geriatric Poles. Middling people were dime-a-dozen, emptied souls, shorn sheeple, human husks. A good monster didn’t worry about what it was doing; it just did it. A true predator didn’t worry about guilt, or being popular, or anything. It just cruised along, living for the kill, surviving. A good person, well, she’d put a bullet in her head or weigh her feet down and throw herself into the Chicago River, holding her breath until she went to the sludgy, filthy bottom, and had to open wide and breathe water until she died.”
D. T. Neal
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