Works by Eric
Eric San Juan
January 14, 2025
Many years back, I wanted to explore the idea of writing a bunch of different comic stories in a bunch of different styles with a bunch of different artists. The result was two comic anthologies, Pitched! and Pitched! Vol. 2. Across those two anthologies, a large array of talented collaborators and I did stories in varied genres, written and drawn in varied styles. It was a fantastic exercise and I’m forever grateful that so many talented people were willing to take the ride with me. One of those stories was “Some Time with the Family,” a tongue-in-cheek horror tale inspired by classic EC Comics like “Tales From the Crypt” (which is more widely known thanks to the HBO series it inspired). Drawn by Logan Reilly,…
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Eric San Juan
December 25, 2024
The air tastes like electricity. Stairs are no obstacle; I take them four at a time. If Mom saw, she would be furious. Dad would pretend to be furious, too, but he’d secretly be proud of my stair-leaping prowess. I am the best Stair Jumper in the house. Downstairs, the scene couldn’t be more perfect. Pine needles. Tin ornaments. Bulbs straining to give off light without catching fire. Dozens of neatly-wrapped gifts. Except Debra is there, too. She’s up. She’s awake. Debra. The girl who eats salt in the morning and spits it at people the rest of the day. The girl who chews gerbils. The girl whose eyes melt happiness. The worst sister. Debra. “You slept late.” She’s nuts. It’s 5:37am. Not even Dad…
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Eric San Juan
May 3, 2024
Have I ever posted about my model terrain hobby? I don’t think I have. Well, now I am. Like so many of us, I used the pandemic lockdowns as an excuse to dive into a hobby I always wanted to dive into. In my case, it was making model terrain from scrap crap. We had model railroads growing up and I enjoyed them, but it was my old man’s hobby, not mine. He did all the work. This would be like that, but different. Years ago, I briefly dabbled in painting miniatures of the sort used in tabletop games and war games, but was never particularly good at it. My attention to detail just isn’t there. Over time, however, I started daydreaming about making a…
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Eric San Juan
November 2, 2023
read part 1 – read part 6 Mortar shells. The chatter of gunfire. Pine branches whipped against my face, sugar sand kicking up behind me and bullets ripping through the foliage. The shouts came from behind, from left, from right. In this place of peace, there was only chaos. “Go, go, go!” And I ran, ran, ran. No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t what this place was. I stopped running and the air stilled. I heard only the echo of gunfire now, from some far off time or place. Explosions like a whisper from yesterday. But there was no pursuit. No figures on a rise. No young soldiers with weapons of wood and imagination. There were only tires in the water that had been there…
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Eric San Juan
November 1, 2023
read part 1 – read part 5 A bottle of whiskey lay half-open on a counter somewhere, the counter in a void of gray mist. In the next room, a body swollen with gas, three days dead. Bruises kissed its waist. More bottles lay nearby. Further into the void, a hole in the Earth, endless, covered with rotting wood boards. One false step … A garbage bag filled with chemicals. Pine needles on fire. A kick in the night followed by tears. A groped breast in the back of an old car. A night in a basement filled with vomit. All of these things were true. He shook his head, willed the void away, willed the truth away, but the room and the stool and…
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