Myth Retold is a series of short stories retelling mythology through a queer lens.
Currently, Myth Retold encompasses Greek Mythology. It is still a new series being developed with (roughly) a new release every year. The series was originally printed with illustrations on a risograph printer with metallic gold and black ink. It has since been adjusted to a more feasible printing method.
AUTHOR(S): Winter J.Kiakas
ILLUSTRATOR(S): Tas Mukanik
PUBLISHED: Windy & Wallflower
PRINTER(S): VidePress (Risograph editions) // Marquis
STYLE: Greyscale // Prose // Illustrated
SIZE: 5 x 7 inches
|Content Warning: 16+ (violence, sexual themes)|
Released September 2020
66 Pages // Artemis x Iphigenia
A princess, a priestess, a human sacrifice. Iphigenia is not the only woman to come upon such troubles in her mythology, but perhaps one of the lucky women to find favour at the hands of her patron goddess who gifts her the chance at a new life, free of restriction.
Released October 2020
66 pages // Medusa x Trans Perseus
Cornered as the elusive love-interest to the horrible God of the Sea, Medusa strikes a deal with Athena to save herself from a terrible fate. She accepts the chance to become a gorgon, a monstrous form which soon becomes a prize of considerable acclaim for warriors and heros across Ancient Greece.
Released January 2021
70 pages // Atalanta x Dyktinna
Left abandoned at the wayside of society, Atalanta learns the feral ways of the wood and yearns for a life connected to a family. Her wishes are answered when the goddess, Artemis chooses her to be her champion, an ambassador of the goddess herself. She is made to study under her troupe of hunters, and falls head over heels in love.
Soon Atalanta must make the decision between following her destiny and staying with the love of her life.
Where to Read This
Myth Retold books can only be read once purchased in PDF or physical form on our shop.
Still not sure? Read an excerpt from MEDUSA here:
The storm hits harshly against the barricade. Water pools at the base of her meticulous pile of stones, and Medusa can’t help but peer through the cracks in the planks from time to time, wondering why the King of the Gods is of such terrible disposition. She considers the rage of the sea-god’s storm against the walls of her Goddess’ temple only seven days ago, and wonders if this may be the cause behind the storm as these two brothers are often quite close. Medusa shakes the thought from her mind, however, knowing that it is presumptuous of her to think in this way. She is a mere insignificance to the Gods, lucky only this time that one of them answered her prayer.
She strokes the long silky bodies of the serpents sleeping atop her head and pulls away from the anger of the storm.
When her eyes flutter open to the whistle of a breeze against her makeshift door, Medusa smiles. She pops her joints, dresses herself and gets to work, setting her stones to the side with her planks of wood, before taking a moment to bask in the sunlight pooling into her home. She takes a deep breath of the sweet fresh air and lets the sun settle on her skin.
Then, by her ear, a small sound: swish.
Medusa opens her eyes and finds a young man a few feet before her, bow in hand, shakily making a loose sign against the evil eye as he stares– only for a second before he freezes. When she catches his fearful gaze, his eyes go wide and blank and shift to white stone, which spreads from them like an infection that overtakes his entire being, silencing his choked scream, overtaking his arms, bones popping and cracking as he fights to free himself of a curse driving through his entire body. The process lasts only a few minutes before the man is entirely stilled into a grotesque statue of fear and anguish.
Medusa can feel the stress of the moment settling in her breath, which is hoarse and shallow in her chest. She stares at the man, frozen in white stone like a statue ready to be painted, and turns to peer behind her, finding an arrow, shattered on the ground after having hit the cave wall.
Her heart beats in her ears, beating against the ringing in them before she stumbles forward, holding herself upright against the doorway. A sharp cold breeze tunnels its way through her home in a violent gust, before it dies away.
She takes a deep breath and, once her heart is calm enough, steps forward, making her way towards the stone sculpture of a man clutching his face, petrified screams locked behind stone. She reaches to touch the stone and finds that it is still warm, as if pressed by skin for hours. She pulls back from it, presses her own fingers to her cheek.
She whispers, “Praise be to the Goddess Athena for this gift, for without it, I would surely have perished.”
For a moment, Medusa thinks to move the statue, but reconsiders the thought. She simply continues about her day, let this statue be a lesson to any others’ intent to inflict harm upon her.
It is not too long before the next young man makes his visit.
Other Print Iterations
During the crowdfunding campaign for the original launch of this project, IPHIGENIA and MEDUSA were both printed in risograph with a few illustrations.