Help Keep the Drive-In Open
Tuesday, December 2. 2014

So, after all these years, it's goodbye to Repairman Jack. I'm a little choked up.

Jack and I go way back. In fact, the first F. Paul Wilson novel I read was The Tomb. This was back around 1985, when I was living in Seattle. I was a very enthusiastic horror reader at the time, and I had exhausted the existing works of Stephen King, Peter Straub, Ramsey Campbell, Charles L. Grant, James Herbert, etc. I was always looking for something new.

The Downtown Seattle library was, and presumably is, a wonderful place for readers. They had the Whispers Press edition of The Tomb on their shelf, and I greedily grabbed it and checked it out. Thus began a longterm relationship between Jack and I.

This isn't to say that I did not enjoy the other works by Wilson. Not at all. I consider Black Wind to be among his finest novels. I enjoyed all of his medical thrillers. Sibs is a top notch suspense story. Sims is the way science fiction should be written.

But Jack? There is something special about the character. It was evident right away when I started The Tomb.

Maybe it was Jack's enjoyment of James Whale movies. That certainly didn't hurt the character's likability. There is, however, much more to it than that.

Repairman Jack is the guy many of us would like to be. He's tough, but fair. He can be funny, but he isn't some wise-cracking dope of a hero.

Jack takes care of business. Most of us are limited to going about our daily business. Patting ourselves on the back for voting, maybe helping out a stray animal, or donating to a charity now and then.

Surely all of the fans of The Tomb hungered to see Repairman Jack return to the pages of F. Paul Wilson books. He showed up in short stories now and then, and we were grateful.

Then our hopes were fulfilled when a full-length Repairman Jack was published in 1998. The book is Legacies, and I consider it to be one of the best in the series. Not only that, I think Legacies is a perfect introduction to the character and to the work of F. Paul Wilson.

Jack's adventures really kicked into gear at that point, and Wilson ingeniously wove Repairman Jack into his Adversary Cycle of novels and stories.

Faithful readers followed Jack through give or take twenty novels as we watched the cataclysmic events in the stories unravel. Wilson took us back to Jack's childhood with a trio of YA stories. And, finally, he came full circle and chronicled Repairman Jack's early days in NYC.

The third of that series, and purportedly the final Jack story, has just been published. It is appropriately called Fear City.

F. Paul Wilson is not what you'd normally consider to be a hardcore writer of gore or violence. He's definitely no Edward Lee. However, there are scenes in Fear City that really disturbed this jaded old genre reader. Come to think of it, I just listened to the audio presentation of Reprisal, and that book has some pretty unnerving elements in it as well.

It's a good thing that Paul is putting Jack behind him. No writer should stay in one place for so long. Still, I'll miss Jack. Badly. Very badly.

But maybe F. Paul Wilson won't be able to resist returning to Repairman Jack in the future. Was Arthur Conan Doyle able to stay away from his most famous creation? Part of me hopes this isn't really the end. In the meantime, I anxiously await whatever thrills and chills F. Paul Wilson has in store for his many readers in the immediate future.

Tuesday, November 25. 2014

Most of us love Thanksgiving. Roast turkey on the table, Wild Turkey in the glass. Plenty of relatives to fight with, and a loud, obnoxious sports event on the TV.

Some of us, the true turkey lovers, held Thanksgiving dear to our hearts for the annual Turkey Day Celebration from Mystery Science Theater 3000.

I love Rifftrax, but nothing can take the place of Joel or Mike up in the Satellite of Love, cutting up while watching really bad movies. I watched the show whenever I could catch it, and Thanksgiving was the best day for it.

Those days are gone, and the Best Brains gang have dispersed, but we can relive them. The great folks at Shout! Factory are doing more than their parts to keep physical media alive, and they are releasing a Turkey Day MST3K box set. Unfortunately for those of us struggling to pay our bills and to keep health insurance, the sets put out by Shout! are pretty expensive.

But wait! There is good news here in 2014. Lord knows we all need it, right?

Various websites will be streaming a Mystery Science Theater 3000 Turkey Day extravaganza this year. It will be older episodes of the show, but Joel Hodgson will be providing new introductory material for them.

So have a Happy Thanksgiving, and enjoy your turkey.

Wednesday, November 19. 2014

I have the feeling that everyone has the same response when they discover one of these movies. It's a mixed reaction of confusion as to how a film called Amateur Porn Star Killer even exists followed by shock when they find out there are three of the damn things.

None of us is blind to the budding genre that combines horror films and pornography. The two categories have slowly blended over the years as allowances for sexual content in mainstream films increased and adult horror parodies have become more popular. The line defining the two is certainly a blurry one, but the Amateur Porn Star Killer series combines porn with parody, horror, and even snuff films. It's all done in a way that breaks the fourth wall, acknowledging the recent trend of line blurring while taking full advantage of it.

Released in 2006, the first film was a mockumentary snuff film in which the director character, played by actual director Shane Ryan, takes advantage of his victim (Michiko Jimenez) before murdering her. The low-budget film actually had a decent amount of buzz surrounding it at the time, mostly for its shock value. Film Threat writer Doug Brunell says, "Picture Ted Bundy with a camera, and you get a pretty good idea of what you’re going to see." Creepy.

Ryan released the sequel, Amateur Porn Star Killer 2 (APSK2), a few years later in 2008. The second movie had the same premise as the first, with Kai Lanette playing the new victim.

Even with the attention garnered by the first film, the second didn't receive a boost in budget. In an interview with Film School Rejects, Ryan said the first film cost about 45 bucks—the cost of the hotel room where the film was shot. The second film cost $20, thanks to the location being provided.

Finally, unlike the low-budget of the first two indie films, Ryan pulled out all the stops for the third, even hiring adult star Regan Reese. Instead of just having an actress imitate an aspiring star, Reese's involvement in the film blurs the series' line between reality, horror, and pornography even further. She's best known for her role in the series Illicit Affairs, where she takes part in of "one of the hottest casts ever assembled for an adult movie," as noted by Adam and Eve. It's likely her extensive experience with such projects that led her to being the most actively involved in the production of an APSK film over the previous actresses playing the victims.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, though, the third film wasn't well received among audiences. It was given a paltry 2.8/10 review on IMDb—in other words, it failed to capture the, erm, "magic" of its predecessors.

If you really want a taste, you can check out the trailer on YouTube. It's safe to say that the truly scary aspect of this series is the uncertainty on whether or not they'll make a fourth. Maybe it's time it got killed off and Ryan went in another direction.
Monday, November 10. 2014

I get to work at least thirty minutes early and I always sit in my car, drink my mug of Irish Breakfast Tea, and read a few chapters before going in. Crazy, I know, but I have a bit of a drive. I work on a Navy base and can't be late.

This morning I read the last chapters of Rick Hautala's The Big Tree. It's a good story, but a sad one. The core of The Big Tree is the death of childhood. Of course, I reflected about the death of Rick Hautala, too, when I was done.

The Big Tree stuck with me all morning, and I went back to my car at lunch to eat and to listen to some audiofiction. I checked my phone and saw the news. J.F. Gonzalez had died.

I'm not going to claim that he and I were close buddies, but I knew Jesus Gonzalez. I've known him for over a decade. I was and am a big fan of his writing, and I let him know that. I am not normally the biggest fan of over the top horror, but I really liked his hard-hitting novel, Survivor.

I had known of J.F. Gonzalez for a long time before I met him. I bought and cherished all three issues of his magazine, Iniquities. I was always sad that it didn't last longer than it did.

Fast forward several years, and Clickers came along. I was involved in the Gorezone Book Forum at the time, and it seemed like everyone there was reading it. And enjoying it.

I honestly can't remember the first time I met Jesus, but I'm guessing it was at one of the Horrorfind Weekends. I always enjoyed talking with him.

One of my best memories of Horrorfind was a weekend morning when I was up obscenely early. I was seeking food and I went into the hotel restaurant. J.F. was sitting alone, eating. He invited me to join him.

Jesus's passion and knowledge of horror was impressive, but we did not talk about the genre that morning. We spoke of family, of work. Frustration with the insurance industry, and of growing older.

In the grand scheme of things, that conversation might not have been a huge deal, but it stuck with me.

J.F. Gonzalez was a prolific writer who took chances and did not always play it safe with his fiction. He wrote hard suspense (Survivor, Fetish, Bully), Supernatural (Shapeshifter, The Beloved), Apocalyptic (Primitive). Then there is the Clickers series, most of which were written in collaboration with Brian Keene.

If you give a damn, I suggest that you buy a book or two. His family will get the royalties, and publishers always need support. And you will have some good reading ahead of you.

In the meantime we mourn the loss of a good man, a trusted friend to many in the community, and one of the most important writers the genre has seen in the last fifteen years.

Goodbye, J.F. Gonzalez.

Monday, October 6. 2014

I had been a Joe Lansdale fan for a few years prior to the publication of COLD IN JULY. I greatly enjoyed the novels that came before it. Especially THE MAGIC WAGON. I enjoyed the short stories, too. The nonfiction as well, for that matter. I was already calling him my favorite writer.

However, COLD IN JULY was a revelation. I was amazed at how good it was. For me, with this one novel, Joe went from a highly enjoyable cult favorite to the equal of any suspense writer in the world. COLD IN JULY is a tight, scary novel that is somehow both restrained and shocking.

I had high hopes when I heard it was to be a movie. Lansdale has had some success with adaptations of his work in the past. Many know him best as the author of BUBBA HO-TEP, which was made into a good movie by Don (PHANTASM) Coscarelli. His nail-biting story, INCIDENT ON AND OFF A MOUNTAIN ROAD, was made into an episode of MASTERS OF HORROR. DRIVE-IN DATE is one of Joe's most disturbing pieces of fiction, and a decent, if very low budget, short movie was made from it.

My favorite adaptation had been another short subject. THE JOB is a professionally shot short movie based on the story of the same name. I felt that it captured the feel of Lansdale's work more than any of the others. But then none were an embarrassment to their source materials.

Now we have COLD IN JULY. It was made by the same individual who directed the vampire feature, STAKELAND. So far, so good.

I made an extremely rare DVD purchase in the case of COLD IN JULY. I am very happy that I did so.

First off, I am grateful that the producers resisted the temptation to update the story to the present. I feel that this is done too often, and it sometimes takes away critical atmosphere to a production. COLD IN JULY, the movie, is set in the late 1980's, as is the novel.

I'm not going to run down the plot of COLD IN JULY here. If you are visiting this site, chances are very good that you have read it. If you haven't done so, you should. As soon as possible.

I was excited to see Don Johnson portray Jim Bob Luke, who is a larger-than-life character in COLD IN JULY and other Lansdale works. I pictured the character as being more flamboyant than Johnson played him, but I was not disappointed. It would be very easy to take such a character over the top and in turn take the viewer out of the story. Better to reign it in than overdo it..

Part of me wishes that it had been a bigger production, and I almost said to myself that director Jim Mickle is no Tarantino or Scorsese, but you know what? Having the means to hire the world's greatest cinematographers, stunt coordinators, effects crews, etc, go a very long way toward making a director look good.

Jim Mickle and his cast and crew deserve applause and gratitude for bringing this important novel in Lansdale's career to the screen. It is a success in every way.
Sunday, September 21. 2014

When I mentioned to some people that I was going to start collecting VHS tapes again, I received some derisive comments. Some merely said that they had no interest in going back to collecting videotapes. A couple of people actually ridiculed me.

Who cares? Collectors are all crazy anyway. Why is collecting old tapes more preposterous than paying three hundred dollars for a book that will never be read? Or coveting old postage? It's all relative.

What did surprise me is how hard it was going to be. Oh, there are plenty of tapes out there in the thrift stores. Stuff from the 90's and 00 decade. TONS of it. Collectors are not interested in that stuff. Regardless of how good the movies may be. There are scores of Pulp Fiction tapes everywhere. Jaws. Forrest Gump. Saving Private Ryan. And I swear that copies of Jerry McGuire actually seem to be reproducing themselves.

No, collectors want old stuff. Early tapes. Action. Horror. Sexploitation. Raunchy comedy.

Those old tapes are so fucking cool. It was a common practice in the first years of VHS to have illustrated covers. The art might not have been exactly museum pieces in most cases, but it gave the movies a special feel.

The importance of collecting those old tapes is palpable. Many of the old movies are being lost. Dozens and dozens of old movies have never been released on DVD. Some turn up on You Tube now and then, but who the hell knows? You Tube might not be here forever, and they might get to the point where they are eliminating a lot of old stuff that has limited appeal to the masses.

I'm not sure if collectors have grabbed up all the cool old tapes, or if the thrift stores just chuck 'em, thinking that no one would want that cheesy old stuff. Probably a little bit of both.

I found a handful of cool old tapes this weekend at a library sale. It's not a lot of movies, but it is a start. I haven't been doing a whole lot of searching in the last couple of months, because I have been unemployed. I start my new job tomorrow, and I hope to get more serious about it in days to come.

Wednesday, September 17. 2014

Today celebrates the birthday of one of the most beloved figures in fantasy film history. Who doesn't like Roddy McDowell?

Born in 1928, McDowell was already acting at age ten. He kept at the trade his entire life, and in fact never seemed to lose his youthful charm. You could still see that ten-year-old boy's gleaming eyes all the way to the end of his career.

Roddy McDowell is known to most for his appearances in the Planet of the Apes movies. Long before Andy Serkis his behind a CGI cloak for his performances, McDowell put on the heavy makeup and his warmth shined through.

McDowell worked with the finest directors of old Hollywood, like John Ford, and Fritz Lang. He was a regular in the classic days of live TV. He did voice work in radio and he appeared in Broadway plays.

Roddy McDowell seemed to be equally comfortable doing comedy, westerns, drama, action. But as I said above, we remember and revere him for his roles in fantasy and horror pictures.

Many classically trained actors made ends meet by taking roles in horror movies. You can sometimes see the mortification in their eyes. Roddy McDowell, like his longtime friend Vincent Price, took the movies on with gleeful relish. He always appeared to be having as much fun making the movies as we did watching them.

The list of great performances McDowell did is long and illustrious: The Poseidon Adventure, The Legend of Hell House, It! (a golem movie, and an early favorite of mine), Hello Down There, The Cool Ones, Batman (he played The Bookworm!), Pretty Maids All in a Row, Arnold, Dirty Mary Crazy Larry, The Martian Chronicles, Cutting Class, Dead of Winter, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, Class of 1984.

And, of course, there was the original Planet of the Apes series. Roddy McDowell not only appeared in every one of the films, he was on the TV series.

But there is one role that horror fans cherish the most. It is, of course, that of Peter Vincent, Vampire Slayer, from Fright Night. Vincent was a bumbling TV horror host, and sometime actor in Hammer-style vampire movies. He is approached by teenagers who believe that a real dead vampire lives next door to them. He scoffs, but of course it is true.

Fright Night came out at the tail end of the original slasher cycle, and it was so great to see such a classy, funny, wonderful nod to atmospheric horror of days gone by.

Boris Karloff possibly did better movies, but his swan song is certainly Targets. Vincent Price did Edward Scissorhands at the very end of his life, and it is a fittingly dignified farewell to him for fans. Roddy McDowell did many movies after Fright Night, but it is the one that I think of first when he comes to mind. I consider it to be the capstone of his magnificent career.

Roderick Andrew Anthony Jude McDowell died of lung cancer on October 3rd, 1998. He was only seventy years old. I close my eyes and I can see him now, eyes blazing with passion, a cross thrust out to thwart the undead, exclaiming "Back, spawn of Satan!".
Sunday, September 14. 2014

You said you like horror, right? This book is more disturbing than just about anything ever published in the genre.

When the name Corey Feldman comes up, more times than not it is in a derogatory sense. You have the Tiger Beat spotlight on him and his erstwhile acting partner Corey Haim. The really bad movies. The rumors of excessive drug abuse. And, perhaps worst of all, the hideous Michael Jackson dance impersonations Feldman was doing.

However, Corey Feldman was a pretty remarkable child actor. His career began at age three, when he did his first commercial. It was a Christmas Ad for McDonald's . He made appearances in dozens of other commercials before beginning to appear in movies.

Hey, who didn't like Corey F. in Gremlins? Or, better still, in Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter? The Goonies was fun, and so was The Lost Boys. Things started to slip when the studios continued to feature Feldman and Haim together in movies. License To Drive has its moments, but ultimately is not one of the better 80's teen movies. Dream a Little Dream is one of the worst of the child-to-adult personality switch movies of the time. The 'burbs is cool, but disturbing reports of Corey Feldman's drug use and insane behavior cast a dark cloud over it.

As with far too many child actors in Hollywood, things went bad fairly quickly with Corey Feldman. He went from A-List productions to direct-to-home video dreck in a few short years.

Few can deny the strong performance Corey Feldman gave in his best movie, which of course is Stand By Me. He mined the painful memories of his own abused childhood for the roll of Teddy Duchamp, and his work in that film never fails to move me.

I'm as puzzled as to why I read Corey Feldman's autobiography as you probably are. It caught my eye in the library and I checked it out on a whim. I liked his early movies and I wondered about his real story.

As you probably know, it ain't pretty. You've probably heard about the allegations of pedophilia in regard to both Corey Feldman and Corey Haim. Well, if he is to be believed, and I have no reason to doubt his account, they were both molested numerous times.

Feldman maintains that Corey Haim got it worse then he did. According to the book, Haim was raped while making the movie Lucas. Feldman too encountered grown men in Hollywood who sexually abused children. He also says that pedophilia is the biggest secret in the movie industry.

So, is it any wonder than so many Hollywood kids turn to drugs and deranged behavior? Drugs and sex are the ways that the careers of the money-making kids are controlled. Child performers are drained like dishrags and then tossed in the trash while the despicable gossip mongers ridicule them.

Many people take it for granted that Corey Feldman was molested by Michael Jackson. They were friends and Feldman spent time at Neverland Ranch. Corey insists that it never happened, and again, I see no reason to doubt him. It could be speculated that he was paid off, and who knows what really happened? I like to think he is telling the truth about it.

People want Corey Feldman to "name names". To out the predatory perverts who destroyed the life of Corey Haim (who died in 2010) and almost killed him. He refuses to do this, and his reasons are completely understandable. To go up against some of the most powerful people in the entertainment industry, you had better have hard proof.

Instead, he has lobbied for stricter regulations for child actors. Background checks and more supervision when kids are employed in show business.

Will this completely fix the problem? Almost certainly not, but any change for the positive will help.

Corey's Feldman's young life was full of delirious highs and horrifying lows. He was a spirited, talented kid, but his parents were insane and he was cast like prime bait into the savage waters of Hollywood. It's an all-too-common story, and I commend his bravery in coming forth to tell it.

Coreyography is compulsive reading for anyone interested in the dark side of the entertainment business. It will be especially fascinating to any movie fan who grew up in the 80's.
Saturday, August 23. 2014

I remember the first time I witnessed the comedy stylings of Adam Sandler. It was sometimes in the mid 90's. In fact, the whole O.J. Simpson fiasco was going on, so that puts it around twenty years ago. Sandler was signing some news or something. I failed to see the slightest iota of wit in the act.

I steadfastly avoided Adam Sandler movies after that. The previews looked uniformly awful. It reached a low ebb when The Water Boy was released. I sat through the trailer on numerous occasions at the theater, and I thought that it looked like the very worst movie ever made.

Then, somewhere in the late 00 decade, I became a fan of the comedy of Judd Apatow. When I heard that Sandler was to star in Apatow's third directorial feature, I was dismayed. I knew that I had to see Funny People, and though I initially dreaded the prospect, I became increasingly excited after watching its trailer.

I am well aware that many people disliked Funny People, but I loved it. I found the movie to be funny and entertaining, but with a lot to think about as well. Funny People works on numerous levels. The acting is all superb, and Janusz Kaminski's cinematography is subtle, but exquisite. I looked on Adam Sandler with new respect after seeing it.

From there I went on to his audio releases. I have always been an enormous fan of comedy music, so I started off with his CD entitled What's Your Name? Unlike his other albums, this one is entirely composed of songs, and has no comedy skits. I loved the album, and I have since bought all the rest of Sandler's CDs.

So I started to go back and watch some of Adam Sandler's movies. Some are virtually unwatchable. Others are more interesting.

I am a big fan of Spanglish, which was written and directed by the renowned James L. Brooks. Reign Over Me is a sad, thoughtful movie. I wasn't entirely won over by Punch-Drunk Love, but I thought it was interesting.

Some are pretty awful, but I enjoyed them anyway. Such as Blended, I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, The Longest Yard, That's My Boy, and even Grown Ups.

I have come to realize that Adam Sandler is a smart, talented guy who happens to usually make very bad movies. He has a couple of very interesting projects coming up.

The Cobbler will hopefully be coming out this year. It is being made by Thomas McCarthy, who gave us such smart films like The Station Agent, The Visitor, and Win Win.

I'm even more excited about Men, Women & Children. This one is due in October and is directed by one of the most consistently interesting filmmakers working today: Jason Reitman. Watch this trailer and try to tell me that it does not look like a good movie:

Adam Sandler will undoubtedly return to the flatulent comedies that he is known and reviled for, and I can't blame the guy for making a paycheck. It's interesting, though, to watch him break away from his standard routine and appear in good movies.

Thursday, August 7. 2014

(Caution: This review contains spoilers)

I'll say this for The Purge: Anarchy: It is more entertaining than these crappy-assed shark mashup things that everyone is programmed into watching. I have no patience for intentionally bad movies. Give me incompetent morons who believe they are making something badass, but the results are cow flop. That stuff is much funnier.

I never saw the first Purge movie, but I heard that it was not necessary to do so to enjoy The Purge: Anarchy. So I, and a friend, went to see it last night at the cinema.

The Purge: Anarchy is bad. Really bad. Worse than Drive Angry. Worse than The Apparition. The acting is atrocious. The thin plot is stretched to the breaking point. And beyond. The political messages are so ham-handed and bonehead stupid that it borders on parody.

Let's see if I can rundown the story for you...

You know what THE PURGE is, right? If not, it is a night when all crime is legal. The idea is ostensibly to stop crime by allowing people to get their nasty, violent urges out on one night of the year. But it really is a way for conservative white America to deplete the poor population. And to make some righteous money in the bargain.

OK, so we meet two women. Mother and daughter. The daughter is sassy and unsurprisingly understands the real deal about THE PURGE, but gosh darn it, no one will listen. These two ladies are selected to be kidnapped on the night of--THE PURGE--so they can be auctioned off for slaughter by evil Christians, ala Hostel.

We also meet this couple going through a tumultuous breakup. The sheer emotion in their performances is breathtaking.

No, scratch that. These are two of the most bland individuals I have ever seen in a movie. Period. I'm talking NADA. No personality. No identifying traits. Nothing at all.

Well, it would not be a movie if they weren't stranded outside during THE PURGE. The ladies are saved by this guy who is sort of the destitute man's Christian Bale. There are a lot of embarrassing posing shots of him, oozing with bad-guy mystery and danger. He is clearly on a mission out in THE PURGE.

Our heroes are saved and cast back out into THE PURGE a few times. One memorable scene in an apartment features the most annoying family I've seen since I got stuck watching The Royal Tenenbaums.

Oh, wait. I am getting ahead of myself. See, there is this resistance against THE PURGE. The leader graduated from The Wesley Snipes School of Grotesque Hammy Acting. He preaches a bunch of malarkey about death and bloodshed to stop the death and bloodshed of THE PURGE.

By the time the lackluster characters were hauled up on stage to be sold off to the Evil Old White People, my friend and I were laughing openly. It was just so ridiculous.

I muttered to her that the movie would earn points if the old bag running the auction were to die in a particularly nasty way, but they messed up even that crucial point.

I can't imagine anyone was surprised when the brooding hero saw the error of his vengeful ways at the end of the movie.

Funny thing: The secret police, or whoever they were, were a lot more interested in the bogus Christian Bale than the resistance. Even while the resistance were doing their own fair share of purging on the Christians. "We can't have any heroes", he was told by one grim soldier. And just before he was about to be shot down like the dog he is, Bam!, game over. THE PURGE had ended for another year, and the cops could no longer take action against citizens.

Our dark knight was injured, which led to the most hilarious part of the movie. They pull up to the hospital, which was free and clear. No lines, no waiting! On the day after THE PURGE! People were going to work and stuff like any other day. Absolutely ludicrous.

Then there were the random LOL moments, such as when a bloody Carrie lookalike was hanging out on a street corner, or when a flaming bus roared through an intersection in the background of one scene for no logical reason than the filmmakers thought it would look really cool.

We are given an ominous warning at the end of the movie that THE PURGE would happen again in exactly one year.

My God, The Purge: Anarchy is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen. It uses elements of infinitely superior movies like Escape From New York, The Warriors, Death Race 2000, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, and, yes, Hostel, stirs them up and takes a dump on them.

Not that I did not have a good time. Rarely do I regret seeing a movie. I saw The Purge: Anarchy with the same lady I saw The Lords of Salem with. And while we were not howling with laughter as hard as we were as we stumbled out of Rob Zombie's monstrously self-indulgent and stupefying movie, we were laughing quite a bit. And we also felt an acid-like sense of deja vu about Lords of Salem as we watched The Purge: Anarchy.
Sunday, July 27. 2014

I was sitting here the other night, a pile of books by me that I started, but didn't get very far. I've been distracted and discontented. Not the fault of the books, at least in some of the cases. I just need to focus.

Scanning my shelves for something to interest me, I noticed Spector's TURNAROUND hiding in a dark corner. This is a book I should have read long ago. I pulled it from the shelf and settled into it.

And was immediately hooked. TURNAROUND is a perfect example of Splatterpunk fiction.

Remember, Splatterpunk doesn't necessarily have to have wall-to-wall gore and violence. It can, and sometimes does, but for me the label is more about style and approach to writing. Splatterpunk is edgy, sharp, and heavily influenced by cinema. As Philip Nutman once noted, Splatterpunk is survivalist fiction that reflects the moral chaos of modern times.

Or as John Skipp said in a recent interview, many modern writers attempt to work in the Splatterpunk vein, and they get the splatter part right, but not the punk elements.

Anyway, TURNAROUND deals with Eric, a screenwriter on far lower end of Hollywood spectrum. He has a few credits to his name, but he is working a dead end job to make ends meet. He is working with a vapid producer on a script, but is constantly requested to make changes on it. Changes that gradually dumb down his story.

The lines between Eric's deteriorating personal life, and the character in his script begin to blur.

TURNAROUND is a cynical Hollywood story mixed with the reality-bending surrealism of Philip K. Dick. The writing is razor sharp, and the short chapters make for a very quick read. I polished the novel off in two nights.

As of this writing, Cemetery Dance Publications still has copies of TURNAROUND in stock. I heartily recommend it to aging Splatterpunks as well as younger genre readers.
Sunday, July 20. 2014

I've seen a lot of talk lately about the virtues of self publishing. Writers are making persuasive arguments about publishing their own work. And it certainly seems like many of them are doing quite well at it.

The whole Hachette/Amazon dispute adds considerable fuel to the fire. Why get caught up in that mess? The conspiracy nut in me wonders if the whole thing isn't a charade to inspire more writers to go directly to Amazon with their works and eliminate the middle man.

How does this affect the readers?

For me, it is hard to justify spending my hard won money on an untested writer who has chosen to publishe his or her own work. Work that, let's face it, in most cases would not be accepted by any editor. Has not been looked over by professional proofreaders.

There are exceptions, of course.

Writers who have proven themselves by working with traditional publishers and editors, and are taking their careers into their own hands, for one. I can dig that.

But what of the new writers who publishe through Createspace or other independent means? How do I distinguish the good from the bad?

Reviews? Sure, they can help, and there are trustworthy reviewers out there. On the other hand, anyone with a Blog can call themselves a reviewer. Just like Yours Truly.

Call me a cynic, but reviews can be bought and paid for. Just like you've probably heard about happening with Amazon customer reviews.

There is also a big buddy system going on. In the name of support, writers and readers endlessly praise their friends and associates.

The ease of self publishing might be a boon to writers, but on the other side of the coin, it can be a bane to readers. Too much to choose from and too much of it is unworthy of our time and money. Time especially, since so many are willing to give their work away for nothing or next to nothing.

I won't say that I will never try out new writers who has chosen to release their own fiction. It will be a rare event for me, though. For now, I will continue to mostly focus on writers whose work has been proven worthy enough to have been released by established publishing houses.
Tuesday, July 8. 2014

I'm late with my convention report. I've been recuperating. Not from excessive partying this time, but from a bout with pneumonia. Which I suffered through during the convention. More about that later.

I've been to my share of these events, and two things are critical for success: the staff of both the hotel and the con.

I've seen everything from indifference to contempt at hotels were fantasy cons have taken place. At one Horrorfind a hotel staff member harshly said something like, "I stopped dressing up for Halloween when I was a little kid, you know?". I should have asked his supervisor if smug judgmental attitudes were part of his job training.

I am happy to report that the entire staff of the Hilton Doubletree in Williamsburg, VA, were awesome. Each and every member seemed anxious to help, and they all at least appeared to be delighted by the madness that invaded their nice hotel that weekend. I honestly have not seen better service.

Then there was the con staff. Again, I have seen incompetence, arrogance, indifference at various conventions. At the Scares That Care con, it was almost unbelievable that this was a debut show. The organization, the professionalism, was impressive. Thumbs way, way up.

It was a special event for me. I often took my kids to conventions when I had a family. Sadly, I am alone now, but my stepdaughter, India, confided to me a while back that horror cons were the best memories of her childhood.

I always promised to take her to another, but it has proved to be impossible up until this year. I had promised to take her to Scares That Care. No matter what.

Little did I know that I would develop pneumonia a week before the convention. Pneumonia takes two weeks to a month to recover from. I should have stayed home in bed. But I couldn't.

So I drove 800 miles and went to a horror convention while utterly miserable.

It was worth it. India just graduated high school and is off to college soon. I owed it to her.

And she loved it. Horror cons are fun for kids, but a young adult probably has a better time.

I dread listing names, because I can't include everyone and I hate to leave anyone out. But I feel obliged to call out some deserving individuals.

Brian Keene, for being a friend for so long, and for his part in making this convention so great. He orchestrated the writing programing and guests.

Laura Long, my good friend who is always there with a sympathetic ear and optimistic words on the phone when I need it. It was great to see her again.

Matt and Deena Warner (and sons). I love you guys so much and we live too close together for us to get together so seldom.

That goes for local friends Beau and Trish, too. Sorry I was unable to spend more time with you. I'm spread way too thin at these things as it is, then there was how lousy I was feeling.

Erik and Laurie Alkenbrack. Again, it had been too long, my friends.

My esteemed roomies Tom Monteleone and Jim Marshall. Had you told me fifteen years ago that Tom would become one of my greatest friends, I'd have laughed in your face. He and I met nearly that long ago, and we hit it off. We see eye to eye on many things. From our tastes in fiction, to our observations on the community, on to our views on life itself.

Jim is a collector of fine books, and he always brings amazing items to show off. But his personality and generosity outshine his collection. A dear friend and a hell of a guy.

I made some new friends this year. Kyle Lybeck, who is a forum regular, is an outstanding individual.

Jonathan Janz is one of the genre's rising stars, and he is just about the nicest, most enthusiastic and passionate man I've ever met. Read this guy, folks. Seriously.

Man. Sheri White. Skip Novak. Mike Lombardo of Reel Splatter Productions. Bryan Smith (nice Cramps tat!), Mary SanGiovanni. Kelli Owen. My mind is going blank. The last couple of weeks have been a blur.

Mostly, I want to thank India Collier, for continuing to be a part of my life, and for bringing me such joy. Let's hope we can do it again next year!

It's so hard to come home from a convention. After being around so many extraordinary people, everyone and everything seems gray and dull. Boring. The real world sucks.

Finally, I want to publicly thank Joe Ripple. He busted his ass for this con, and his hard work showed. It wasn't as financially successful as he had hoped it would be, and whether there will be another one next year is up in the air. I sincerely hope that he decides to do it.

Friday, June 20. 2014

I continue to move, not forward, but backward.

I don't do the music download thing. No songs on my cell phone. I have gone completely back to listening on vinyl. You've heard the song and dance about how vinyl has a superior sound than digital files, and you will believe what you like. I am 100% convinced and satisfied that my records sound better than any compact disc or digital download.

I do not own a Kindle, a Nook, or any reading device. I like my books.

I was all over the DVD boom. It was perfect, and I gave up my VHS tapes. Now I regret it.

Two different documentaries on the subject of VHS tapes were made recently. I have not seen them. I only watched the trailers. But they stirred something deep inside me.

The VHS days were magical and marvelous. I don't quite think people born after, say, 1990 can imagine how revolutionary it was. To be able to watch anything, at any time, and stop and start it at will. Unthinkable.

I spend countless hours in video stores in the 80's and 90's. Browsing through the titles, talking to other customers and the staff. I was a regular at all the closest stores and I knew the people who worked there.

The earliest days were best. Before Blockbuster came along and tried to monopolize everything. They almost succeeded, but they were unable to make the leap into the new methods of distribution.

There were video stores everywhere. And most of them did outstanding business. Mom and Pop shops, and most convenience stores had a little section where you could rent tapes.

It was exciting. You never knew what you were going to find.

And here's the thing: There were countless movies either produced and manufactured exclusively for the VHS market, or were put on tape and have not resurfaced since.

They are in danger of being lost. Videotape is ephemeral. It deteriorates eventually.

It is a vital part of our culture. A part that is largely being forgotten.

It wasn't all a bed of roses. Tapes damaged fairly easily. But then so did digital discs. Tracking kind of sucked, and sometimes you could not quite get one to play right. Then there was rewinding. Be kind, rewind.

It doesn't look so bad now. In fact, it looks downright wonderful.

I currently do not even own a DVD player. Oh, I do, but it is not hooked up. I do have a combination TV and videotape player in my bedroom. I haven't watched it in ages, and I put in Hollywood Boulevard 2 (a movie still not on DVD or any other format to date) and it wouldn't play. A error message came up and said to run a head cleaner through it. I don't have one, but I just ordered a cleaner from ebay for a couple of bucks.

If that doesn't work, I will buy a player. I am sure I can get one for a song.

I'm excited. I plan to start looking for cool tapes at thrift stores. I want the obscure stuff. The big clamshell cases are calling my name.

In my own microscopic way I helped usher in the vinyl record resurgence. I raved about them, played records for people, talked them into buying turntables, found deals on albums at thrift shops and gave them away. Trying to spread the word.

I won't stop looking for records, but I am going to start combing the shops for tapes. I like the look and sound of analog over digital more and more. And, maybe in doing so, I can find a place of peace and joy in my own heart in the process.

Thursday, May 29. 2014

I wonder how many horror fiction fans even know who Edward Bryant is these days?

If he is remembered by some, it might be for his story, A Sad Last Dance at the Diner of the Damned, whcih is one of the most memorable piece in Skipp and Spector's Book of the Dead.

Bryant wrote SF in the 70's. Mostly short fiction, and it was in collections like Among the Dead and Particle Theory.

He wrote other good short works, and he appeared in groundbreaking anthologies like Dark Forces; Again, Dangerous Visions; Cutting Edge; Silver Scream.

Edward Bryant collaborated with Harlan Ellison on a novel called Phoenix Without Ashes.

Me, I will always revere Ed for his wonderful book reviews in Twilight Zone Magazine. He took the place of Thomas M. Disch, which was such a relief. Disch was a gifted writer, but his reviews had a nasty edge to them.

I'm certain I would have discovered the writers anyway, but Bryant's insightful reviews pointed me toward so many favorites at a crucial time for me as a reader.

I considered Bryant to be a reviewer and not so much of a critic. There is a marked difference in the two.

I had hoped that Edward Bryant would have a more prolific career, but it didn't work out that way. A big part of it was due to health problems.

I won't go into details of his health challenges, but suffice to say that it has been a rough road for the guy. And we all know that writers tend to not have insurance.

The Friends of Ed Bryant gratefully accept donations, and if you are so inclined, you can do so through Paypal. Details are available at their website.

Hey, I get it. It's hard for even the best of us to give money away with nothing but good karma in return. So now you can purchase books, in print or electronic format, by Ed. Every penny that can be possibly spared from the sales will go to help Edward Bryant.

His books are available from ReAnimus Press. I urge everyone to consider picking up something.

For horror fans I would perhaps suggest Trilobyte, which has an Introduction by Tim Powers. Or maybe Fetish. Darker Passions would be good, too, and it has an Intro from Dan Simmons. If SF is your game, Among the Dead would be a good choice.

Actually, anything would be good. Edward Bryant is a remarkable writer.

Everyone talks about trying out and supporting new writers. I wholeheartedly agree with that. But I also advocate trying older ones. Especially, as in this case, where the funds will go to help a guy who always was an important figure in the field.