About Joshua Phillip Johnson

Joshua Phillip Johnson writes, reads, and teaches in a small town in Minnesota. His house is 100-years-old this year and probably doesn’t have any ghosts in it. He can be found online at

thelastworldfair.wordpress.com


Joshua Phillip Johnson’s story “The Demon in the Page” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 1 January 2016. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.

One month until we launch!

Welcome to Metaphorosis, a new speculative fiction magazine. We launch on 1 January 2016 – now just one month away! But we’ll have things for you before then. Starting this month, we’ll be publishing author bios, 1 question interviews, and of course, more book reviews. If you want even more, check out our Patreon page for access to background information, editorial insights, and more. Keep coming back. Remember to sign up for our weekly e-mail…

Keep reading

Survey of the 1st 100 submitters

Feedback on the feedback on the feedback. Thanks to all who participated. The survey’s been very useful. Some confirmations, some surprises. I generally try to dress up reader comments (my own and others’) a bit to make the more polite. There was near universal agreement that this is unnecessary, and a fair proportion of people upset that the comments weren’t as blunt as advertised. Most people find the comments helpful, but a few found them…

Keep reading

Submission statistics – the first month

Up to 31 October 2015 Genre (as listed by author): Fantasy – 38% SF – 38% Other/mixed – 24% Gender (based on first name given): Male – 67% 37% F, 43% SF, 20% Other Female – 28% 42% F, 28% SF, 31%  Other Undetermined – 12% Results: Rejected – 71% Rejected but encouraged to resubmit – 22% Rejected but allowed to submit a rewrite – 5% Accepted – 2.25% Comments We see more male submitters…

Keep reading

Metaphorosis – B. Morris Allen

Like the sound of soft fingers on skin, green palm fronds whispered amongst themselves. Their soft breath caressed his cheek as he listened for the slight scratching of frond cilia against stiff palm trunks. “Sam.” The breeze was stronger, the fronds closer. He could almost feel them tickling his face. “Sam. You’ll be late for work.” He stirred, allowed the cold waves to sift sand from underneath him. Gently, that was the way, no quick……

Keep reading