TEACHER. WRITER. EDITOR.
Teaches history to high school kids. Writes dark stuff. Edits even darker stuff. Lives in San Diego, California with his beautiful wife, Tori, and their new black cat, Poeso.
Shane Hawk, a member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, is a high school history teacher, writer, and editor. He entered the horror scene with his first publication, Anoka: A Collection of Indigenous Horror, in October 2020 via Black Hills Press. Hawk is also the co-editor of Never Whistle at Night, an anthology of Indigenous dark fiction that Penguin Random House will publish in 2023. You can find him in San Diego wearing his Support Indigenous Literature hat, alongside his beautiful wife, Tori. Learn more by visiting shanehawk.com.
LATEST WRITING NEWS
Signed an HWA-pro-rate contract with Weird Little Worlds Press to bring my story, VÉ'OTSÉ'E (WARPATH WOMAN), to their horror anthology titled, MOTHER: Tales of Love and Terror, which should publish this Halloween season.
Sold my Indigenous anthology proposal, NEVER WHISTLE AT NIGHT, to three imprints of Penguin Random House which will contain both stories from Indigenous writers you already love and emerging Indigenous writers you'll get to know as their careers blossom. It will have editions published and distributed in the US (Vintage Books) and Canada (Random House Canada + McClelland & Stewart) in Fall 2023. Grateful for my agent, Rachel Letofsky, for landing us a six-figure publishing deal, and for my co-editor, Ted Van Alst, who is a fantastic writer and friend.
ABOUT BLACK HILLS PRESS
Black Hills Press came to fruition as an attempt to make myself appear more legitimate in the self-publishing world. My career started with a little book titled, Anoka, and no one knew my name or cared, and rightfully so. I wanted to choose a name that stuck out but also paid respect to old Cheyenne land centuries ago. And in a way, I've made many more people aware of what the Black Hills themselves are and the political issues that still hurt them: the broken treaties, the ugly men carved into them, and the fight for the Hills to be returned to the Oceti Sakowin. This press has become more than a publishing imprint for me. It's a means to make some change with the little slice of influence that I have. Because in the end, I just want the stolen land back to the Indigenous. "The land doesn't belong to us, we belong to the land."