I'm in a long, slow process of moving. It's slow because I have been working a lot. A big emergency rush job at work that constituted a lot of overtime for a month. It's why I haven't updated this site much lately, too.
I've been going through stuff in the attic. There are tons of things up there. A lot of junk that was toted up there for no good reason. Misguided packrat mentality. But then there was also a lot of books, magazines, correspondences, etc.
I didn't mean to leave that stuff up there for so long. It's the kind of thing where you intend to do something about it, but there never seems to be enough time, or enough room for the stuff downstairs. Months go by. Years. A decade. More. Close to two decades for a lot of it. Nearly twenty years of intense heat, cold, dust, neglect.
It's heartbreaking. A lot of the stuff doesn't matter to me, but some of it does. Some of it meant the very world to me in times past. Books that I paid for and loved with all my heart. Magazines that were my lifeline to the genre in those pre-internet days. Videotapes. Letters, pictures, gifts from children.
Much of it is unsalvageable. Browned, brittle pages, irreparable dust damage, etc. So much isn't worth donating or anything.
I've gotten really emotional going through it all. In some ways it's a good thing. You have to move on here and there in your life. Excessive possessions slow us down, become burdens rather than bringing us joy.
I see the science fiction items from my youth. I worshiped that genre when I was in my teens and very early twenties. It hurts to have to trash that stuff, but that isn't what bothers me the most. Well, other than the personal, family, items.
For me the most vital years of the horror genre were from 1985-1990. I was a reader and viewer of it well before then, and I have been ever since those days. But it was that period that I was the most passionate about horror.
It was the birth of modern horror fiction, in my opinion. The era when chills and thrill met hard rock and roll midnight movies. A new breed of writer who grew up on Night of the Living Dead and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The so-called Splatterpunk guys dragged the genre out of rural areas, away from leather arm patches, and the upper middle class, and plunked it down in the hard streets. Punk and heavy metal sensibilities conjoined with gore movie outrageousness.
It was an amazing time to be a reader. So exciting and so many new things to discover. The Golden Age of Horror Fiction.
Great things came before and after, to be sure. And it's a good time right now. The whole Kindle/e-book thing is leveling out now, and new writers are bringing outrageously inventive scares to the table.
But back then? It felt new and anarchic.
By the mid-eighties nearly everyone could afford a VCR and horror fans were rejoicing in the discoveries of past gems on tape. I have old tapes, and magazines that celebrated the phenomenon.
So much of it is gone, gone.
Sure, it's better today, right? We have pristine editions of horror movies, good and bad, on Blu Ray. We can watch trailers and behind the scenes footage till we're blue in the face. Interviews and retrospectives and reviews abound on the internet.
And, yeah, my life is better than it ever has been. I have a respectable job, I can afford books (even if I can't buy the expensive collector's items that are available), and I have a happier home life than I ever dreamed I would have.
Still, I sometimes long for the days when my love of horror was more innocent and unspoilt. I'm a lot more cynical about it now. Too much product coming out, and I find the quality of too much of it to be lacking.
Digital photography and editing in modern movies looks phony and unappealing to me.
Having everything at my fingertips takes a lot of the fun out of it for me.
But then I think of newish writers like Daniel Kraus, Caroline Kepnes, Jonathan Janz, Riley Sager, Grady Hendrix, and I smile. I'm going back to reread beloved books of my past with more mature eyes, and I find many of them to be even better than I remembered. I think of the upcoming Scares That Care Convention, and I anticipate hanging out with horror fiction fans. I rejoice that, despite losing so many important figures in the genre, so many are still with us, and still producing wonderful work.
Moving on. It's important to our growth as human beings. We hold on to some of the past, and we let a lot of it go. It hurts, but it also feels good.
I also anticipate the future of the genre. It seems like I have spent a lifetime delving into horror, but I'm not that old yet. I think I have two or three more decades to go at this stuff. I don't plan to stop. I won't like all the new trends, and I won't like all the new writers, but I bet that I'll love a lot of it. A love of the fantastic, the horrific, the imaginative, keeps us young at heart, and that's what we get back from the financial and emotional investment longtime fans like myself have put into it.