Andrew McCurdy has been reading and writing science fiction ever since he saw Charleton Heston kneeling in the surf, cursing the half-buried Statue of Liberty. He recently relocated from teaching college in a large city to rural Nova Scotia where he hopes to start writing in earnest. He is a regular editor and has been known to sneak a story or two into the slush pile.
Jed Dagger was raised on a rural southern tobacco farm by a draftsman and a middle school teacher. These early years were full of tractor rides, isometric drawing, mastering the art of baking, old issues of Popular Science, how to properly fold fitted sheets and shoe horses, so never mind those rumors of her being the product of bioengineering or obscure DARPA funded experiments. After receiving a degree in Criminology, serving a couple of enlistments in the military, and a decade in law enforcement, Jed now works for a multinational computer company breaking software. She is a regular editor to the show and keeps Kevin in line when he loses track of what day it is.
Kevin Frost is a social hermit who moved deep into the off-grid communities of northern New Mexico after discovering he had developed a mortal terror of Davey Jones (the sea devil, not the Monkee). He likes throwing mud at walls, eating green chili cheeseburgers at lonely crossroads diners, and picking up hitchhikers. Kevin is a regular editor to the show and also does the heavy lifting: answering email, maintaining the slush pile, wrangling narrators, and spending more time than he should doing audio engineering for the show.
Kris Law gives voice to our host, Osgoode Underby, who is a tribute the cheesy yet beloved late night monster movie hosts from the days before cable TV. In his real persona, he is a complicated man, and no one understands him but his woman. He lives in The City with his wife and two cats who openly defy his authority.
Sarah “Bookworm” Heiner mines the public domain archives for stories to produce, a thankless task for which she nightly girds herself against soul crushing racism, epic dreariness, and the sheer verbosity of pre-1923 writers.