Special Issue ’26

Anyone with a spicy brain may relate: series projects feel so delicious. At HamLit, our succession of seasons and this trio of darkness quickly began to feel like a meal—served hot for our growing community—that we never wanted to end. One might even consider this level of repetition “satisfactionmaxing.” Because once you’ve forged a system, watched it flourish, and decide to intentionally add onto that foundation, something singular becomes seemingly, delectably endless. Especially in lessons.

Of particular note, the After Dark evolution has shown us that Pacific Northwest creatives really love shady shit. When we first asked contributors to dive into their spook, snark, and sex the response was resounding; y’all really RSVP’d. Over the subsequent Halloween-adjacent releases, stories found new shadows, danker insanities. What wasn’t expected was how, by offering a place to bring your deepest umbra to print, we’ve ultimately reconnected dark with light.

The nine prose and poetry contributors featured in this issue, our final After Dark, hold horror in one hand and humor in the other. It speaks to their considerable talent that this collection brings full circle the ethical and environmental crises we’ve endured for too long with such playful artistry. Consider Special Issue ‘26 the absurd banter and darkly obsessive gossip exchanged over digestifs: Too many penises. One culinary woman. When prey descends. How youth turns. The lure of worship. A temple to more. White knuckle love. Can you hear the screams? All hail, Gods of science.

Yes, this three-course endeavor may be ending, but what comes next smells suspiciously everlasting. So, pull up a chair and get cozy while we build a longer table. 

Bon Appétit

With continued gratitude to past and present editors, designers, authors, and readers; the PNW would not have this Issue, or HamLit, without your partnership.