Help Keep the Drive-In Open
Tuesday, April 26. 2016
It's immensely satisfying to be in the front seat to watch a writer grow. I've seen it quite a few times before, and now I am doing so with Jonathan Janz
Janz came into my radar with a novel called The Sorrows. The Sorrows was done by a major publisher, Samhain, and it was well received by the horror fiction community. I did not know Jonathan at the time, but I try to make a point to check out the rising new names of the genre.
To be honest, I liked The Sorrows. I thought it was a good book. Especially considering that it is a debut novel. Great? Not exactly, but there's no shame in that. First novels by critical and popular favorites like Joe R. Lansdale, F. Paul Wilson, Ray Garton, Robert McCammon, and even Stephen King show talent in development. Not everyone can be a Dan Simmons or a Jack Ketchum, and knock a first novel straight outta the ballpark.
But, yes, The Sorrows is a solid effort. I happily added a new name to the list of authors I regularly read.
The next books came along at a steady clip. House of Skin, which like The Sorrows, is a haunted house story. A Laymonesque gorefest called Savage Species. A methodically-paced thriller called The Darkest Lullaby. A sequel to The Sorrows entitled Castle of Sorrows. A fun weird western romp by the name of Dust Devils. The Nightmare Girl, which is a gutsy thriller with echoes of Joe Lansdale. A werewolf yarn with the appropriate title, Wolf Land.
All enjoyable works of good old fashioned horror fiction with a common thread of careful writing and credible characters. Looking at these books is like seeing a writer climb a ladder. With each step Jonathan Janz has surer footing, more confident prose, and greater success as a storyteller.
I have the good fortune of knowing Jonathan Janz in the real world. He's one of those guys you meet and instantly you have a brand new lifelong friend. I knew almost from the very start that he would be one of the big ones, and not just one of the good ones. Here are some reasons why I had that conviction:
Jonathan Janz is a genuinely good, humble individual. Most of us have seen the cocky types come, and we've seen them go. Despite already having an enviable oeuvre and an ever-growing fanbase, he remains a self effacing, modest individual.
Jonathan Janz reads. As all writers should do. He doesn't just read your basic King/Hill/Barker bunch, nor does he limit himself to the Keene/Ketchum/Laymon/Lee people. He does read all of this stuff, and well he should if he intents to compete in the current horror fiction arena. But Jonathan also reads the classics of the field, like John Farris, Theodore Sturgeon, Harlan Ellison, Charles L. Grant. Not only that, he reads outside the genre, which is just as important as reading Matheson and Bradbury. Like a bodybuilder getting in shape, this is how a writer builds his or her literary muscles.
Jonathan Janz works his ass off. He has a full time job, is a dedicated family man, plus he averages around two books a year. Always wanted to be a writer, but can't seem to find the time to do so? Don't tell that to Jonathan Janz.
Jonathan Janz continues to grow and to take chances. He isn't writing the same book with rearranged plot and character details.
Jonathan Janz had a lucrative situation with editor Don D'Auria and Samhain Publishing. They were doing nice editions of his material, and everything seemed to be going well. And then all of that fell apart. Certainly he was intimidated by this unfortunate turn of events, but Janz is rapidly proving himself more than capable of continuing his career.
Which brings us to the latest novel from Jonathan Janz. Sinister Grin Press was fortunate enough to get to publish Children of the Dark
, which is in my opinion the best piece of fiction he has given his readers to date.
Children of the Dark reads like a young adult book. There are shades of Stand By Me, Summer of Night, Boy's Life, in its pages. I bring up influences here and above, and Janz has obviously learned from the masters he has read, but his own voice is sounding louder and clearer all the time.
I have sort of a litmus test for horror novels. While reading one, I will ask myself if I would be interesting in reading it if there were no horrific elements to the story. In the case of Children of the Dark, the answer is a resounding yes. The youthful characters in the novel are likable and I'd be more than happy to read about them indulging in the usual proclivities of average kids.
But Children of the Dark is most assuredly a horror novel. I don't like to give too much away in a review, but Janz isn't content to plague his characters--and his readers-- with merely one menace. We get monsters and
a homicidal maniac in Children of the Dark.
Janz seems so comfortable with his young characters that I would love to see him tackle a full-out YA novel. It would be great for him to pull a Jeff Strand and alternate between full-blown horror and fun young adult fiction.
In whatever direction Jonathan Janz elects to go with his writing, you can bet I will be there to follow him. And I will be far from the only one to do so.
Tuesday, April 5. 2016
I'm recommending a book that was recently announced by Cemetery Dance Publications. It's called Nothing Lasting
, by Glen Krisch. Why am I doing this? I have not read the book. In fact, I've read nothing at all by Krisch.
Well, for one, I have interacted with him on the message boards. He seems like a good guy. For another, the plot synopsis sounds interesting.
Mostly I am excited about this book because Cemetery Dance is publishing it. For my book-buying dollar, CD has the best editorial sense of any horror/dark fantasy press out there.
And there's another reason...
I've heard some complaints about CD here and there over the last few years. Some get irritated that Cemetery Dance does so many high end Stephen King books. They also do a lot of pricey reprints of bestselling authors.
Me, I can't criticize. These books obviously do well for CD, and any company that does not know which side of the bread needs to be buttered won't be in business for long. Most of the stuff I am referring to is either too expensive or simply not to my tastes. I really don't need to own extremely expensive and extravagant books.
People have said that CD needs to showcase more new writers. I've argued that horror readers can find that stuff in the magazine, and in some of the anthologies.
But now here is a new book by a newer author. One I think a lot of readers may not be familiar with. It's a deluxe limited edition, with the usual bells and whistles.
So you can party like it's 1999 and buy a CD edition by a writer who is not yet one of the usual suspects. And unlike a lot of limiteds these days, Nothing Lasting still has the old forty dollar price tag. That might seem to be a lot of money for a book to some people, but those of us who have a grasp of what it takes to produce one of these things knows that it is a pretty straight deal.
And, yes, I've put my own money where my mouth is and I've preordered Nothing Lasting
for myself. Best of all, this book is already at the printer and will see publication soon.
Monday, March 21. 2016
I always look forward to the twice-yearly library sale here in Hampton, Virginia. I never fail to find cool stuff, and once in a while I land a real gem. This past weekend was no exception.
Nothing Earth-shaking. I got some decent records, and some nice books. I have been wanting to read William Wharton's Birdy, and I got a hardcover of that one. Ex-library, but who cares? I got the Scream Press edition of Ramsey Campbell's The Face That Must Die, which was plentiful in the bargain bins once upon a time. Some other stuff---gifts for friends, that sort of thing. Books I hope to eventually read, or reread. Wishful book buying, perhaps, but I enjoy it.
I also saw a lot of familiar faces among the spines on the bins. Books that I, in some instances, had intimate relations with. The very copies I have read over the years.
The library sales offer donated items, but the bulk of the product are books that have been withdrawn from the library. Books that no one cares about anymore.
I saw a lot of Bill Pronzini books. I wanted to buy them all, but damn it, space is limited. Same with books from F. Paul Wilson, John Farris, James Herbert. Books and writers who were mainstays for me in the 80's, 90's, and beyond. Books by Charles L. Grant are long gone.
I'm not really complaining. They have no choice. New books are introduced into the system on a weekly basis. Older titles, aging or deceased writers, well, not a lot of younger readers are interested.
Out with the old. In with the new. It's a system that is as old as the species is. Part of it does
make me mad. "Don't people want to read Black Wind? The Pet? The Nameless Detective books? Fiends? The Magic Cottage? Summer of Night???"
I'm sure that more people are reading them than I imagine. Most of this stuff is available in ebook form, and people buy used books online all the time. Some of them are finding new life in reprint editions as well as deluxe hardcovers.
But, damn it, part of history is disappearing. My
history. On many occasions I have strolled through the library, looking at the books and remembering the first time I read them. Just as I do all the time at home. But there is something about a library. It's a shrine. A place of worship.
And I know that good stuff comes into circulation. Some of the best books I have ever read were published in the last twenty or so years. Still, it's not like the old days when the reigning kings of horror were all over the bookstores and libraries.
Thursday, February 4. 2016
I know that I am supposed to be a big, tough horror fan. I should be watching chainsaw welding maniacs, black-gloved killers, cannibal tribes, slashers, aliens, monsters. And, sure, I like that stuff.
I like Pretty in Pink, too. A lot. There's a Chick Flick fan in all of us, I reckon.
I saw Pretty in Pink at the theaters once. It was when the movie was first released, smack in the middle of the John Hughes and the teen movie heyday of the 80's. Ah, it was over just as soon as it started, it seemed. Just like any other innovative movement: the early days of rock and roll, punk, grunge, splatterpunk, goth. These things begin as revolutionary, but quickly get imitated and compromised.
I had recently seen The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles. I loved the shit out of both of them. Perhaps the best of them all, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, was just around the corner. New Wave was still fairly relevant. The timing was perfect.
Pretty in Pink isn't a perfect movie...
OK, I am going to assume that you have seen the movie. If you haven't, well, you've been warned. Spoilers are ahead.
The alternative oddball chick who steals everyone's heart in Pretty in Pink clearly made the wrong romantic decision.
Of course, Molly Ringwald is the star of Pretty in Pink. She is an off-kilter teen, with an odd-but-charming fashion sense. An equally weird and unpopular boy is smitten with her. She meets a bland popular rich kid (they were known as "Preppies" back then) and begins seeing him.
Jon Cryer plays Duckie, the misfit toy who pines for Molly. He is passionate; has verve and wit. He knows exactly what he wants in life. At least in regard to his heart.
Andrew McCarthy is the pretty boy who Molly likes. He's scared of what his friends and family will think of his other side of the tracks girlfriend. He's wormy, indecisive, unsure, and more than a little smarmy.
The story goes that Moly Ringwald's character originally ended up with the colorful Duckie, but teenage test audiences didn't like it.
Either way, it's the wrong ending, but the movie is still a classic.
I was a 70's boy, and I know that I am supposed to be obsessed with Zeppelin, 'smith, Floyd, etc. Or, worse yet, Skynyrd, Hatchet, Tucker.
Give me The Psychedelic Furs, Talking Heads, OMD, over all that tired old stuff.
The music in Pretty in Pink perfects sets the story in its time and place. The styles are irresistible, the idioms used by the characters are wonderful--it is my favorite era.
And John Hughes, who wrote but didn't direct Pretty in Pink, had an ear and eye for the dialogue and mindset of the young people of the mid-late 1980's.
Pretty in Pink is a relic of the era, and the movie's fan remain fiercely loyal. Not only that, young people of later years see and love this and other John Hughes features. The reason for this is simple: The themes Hughes explores with wit and warmth are universal.
Most people who visit sites like Horror Drive-In were outcasts when they were young. They were too smart to be fully accepted by the herd. They were and are creative, funny, wonderfully weird. We were all Duckies.
Thanks to Fathom Events, Pretty in Pink
will be coming to a theater near you. Just in time for Valentine's Day. Don't you think it's time to rediscover the magic? Better still, share the rad glories of Pretty in Pink with someone. A loved one, a young person, anyone. Only the hardest of hearts would remain unmoved.
Tuesday, January 12. 2016
I'm chiming a little late on my yearly roundup. Please accept my apologies. The past few weeks have been more hectic than usual.
Well, I'm still here. Horror Drive-In is a decade old. It's been a bumpy trail, but I survived this long. Maybe I'll be around for ten more.
I lost my brother ten years ago, almost to the day I am writing these words. My marriage ended five years ago. Pretty rough stuff that almost knocked me down for the count, but you have to get up and keep going. What choice do we have?
The world continues to go crazy, and I have seen more hatred and finger-pointing than I ever have in my life. Especially on Facebook. It sickens me.
Barnes and Noble is still around, despite some predictions that it would be gone by now. I think it's important that we all try to keep it alive. Competition is healthy for consumers. People are beginning to see the tarnish behind Amazon's glossy exterior. Disquieting reports from writers and allegedly atrocious working condition for employees have turned a few people away from the internet juggernaut. I just hope people spread the wealth a little.
The small press is busier than ever. Ease of independent publishing makes it possible for everyone to be an author. We've seen a deluge of new writers come along that makes the so-called boom of the 80's look like the biggest drought in history. It's definitely a mixed blessing. Deserving talents are getting their work out.
Movies are changing. Many theaters in my area are converting to recliner seats. Most people love it. I don't. It puzzles me that as people try to make their homes into theaters, theaters are trying to be more like homes. What, did theater chain execs decide that there wasn't enough chatter from dumbasses in their auditoriums and want to make the cretins feel like they were at home in their own chairs? I don't really like choosing my seat in advance either. What if you get there early and you are next to a bunch of ass crack bandits who act as thought they are in their homes and can behave any way they feel like behaving? And then the theater fills up? You are fucked, Charlie.
Movies seem more removed from reality than ever. So many of them look like they were made on a computer. The sky, the grass, everything looks completely phony.
It wasn't the best year at the movies for me, but I did enjoy some of them very much. My top pick of the year is Woody Allen's Irrational Man, which would have made Bergman proud. It seems like I am just about the only person who saw it. Irrational Man is a dark tale of despair and desperation as only Woody can make them. It's also one of his movie about murder and conscience, or the lack of it.
I've always loved teen movies, and there were two powerful ones in 2015. Paper Towns is a lovely story that is generous in wit and wisdom. It was based upon a John Greene novel, and most people decided that he sucks after the enormous success of The Fault in Our Stars. Those who pass on Paper Towns are doing themselves a big disservice.
Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is also based on a good novel. I have not read the book by Jesse Andrews, but if it is anywhere near as moving and emotional as the movie, I will adore it. The title gives away the bare bones of the plot, but it isn't just a clone of the aforementioned Fault in Our Stars. It's telling that Brian Eno provided the music for the film. He has enough integrity not to be involved in a crap project. I was blown away by Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.
It was a decent year for horror movies. It Follows is a smart, multi-faceted gem and should be seen by everyone who even has the slightest interest in the genre. Krampus was fun in a Joe Dante/80's Amblin kind of way. Eli Roth's The Green Inferno is exactly what you hope it will be. If you are the kind of individual who hopes for this kind of thing. Some were disappointed in it, but I felt that it was a worthy updating to the maligned/beloved Italian cannibal subgenre. Unfriended is unique and mesmerizing.
I also really enjoyed The Big Short, Bridge of Spies, and Foxcatcher. To date I have not seen The Hateful Eight, The Visit, The Gift, Crimson Peak, Carol, Spotlight, or The Gift. I avoided all the big budget fantasy/escapist movies and have no regrets about that.
My favorite book of 2015 was Daniel Kraus's The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch. His 2011 novel, Rotters, blew me away, but Finch topped it.
The second placeholder is Paul Tremblay's harrowing and heartbreaking A Head Full of Ghosts. This is the first time I have read the man, and it definitely won't be the last time I do so.
You, the debut novel by Caroline Kepnes, would have taken the top spot in other years, and had the above choices not been so strong. You is unique, horrifying, and addictive. I cannot wait for the sequel, Hidden Bodies.
McCammon's The Border is a deceptively simply story of alien invasion. The plot sounds like strictly Michael Bay material, but nothing is simple in a McCammon story. Probably not his best novel, but The Border is a fantastic read.
Stephen King continues his hot streak with part two of his Hodges trilogy, Finders Keepers. His prose has never been more effective and enthralling. The Bizarre of Bad Dreams is my favorite King collection since Skeleton Crew.
Joe R. Lansdale had a major hardcover in 2015 called Paradise Sky, but I liked his quiet YA novel, Fender Lizards, more. I honestly can say that I have never loved one of his books more than it.
I continue to be impressed by the suspense novels of Chevy Stevens, and Those Girls is probably her best book. Its heartrending and heartbreaking. A white knuckle tale of bravery and depravity. I wish more horror reader would give her a chance.
Other books of note include Jonathan Janz's Wolf Land, Brian Keene's Where We Live and Die, Richard Chizmar and Ed Gorman's Brothers, and Bentley Little's The Consultant.
Death is never far away, and He came calling too much in 2015, with devastating results. As usual. We said goodbye to Tom Piccirilli, Christopher Lee, T.M. Wright, Wes Craven, George Clayton Johnson, Stan Freberg, Amanda Peterson. Here it is only days into 2016 and we lost David Bowie, Angus Scrimm, and A. R. Morlan.
Sunday, December 27. 2015
The home video market was booming in the late 1980's, and if a movie had a decent cover for its VHS packaging, a catchy title, and some exploitative elements, chances were it would end up on a video store shelf near where you lived.
Most of it was crap, of course, but even some of the crap was entertaining. And while the getting was good, and the producers had a few bucks to throw around, they could reel in some fairly well-known actors.
World Gone Wild was a favorite of mine. Not a good picture, I assure you, but I always thought it was fun and entertaining.
World Gone Wild is a post apocalyptic thriller that owes a bit of debt to Mad Max. Bruce Dern is a stoned-out spiritual leader of a commune-type village in your typical burned-out wasteland. Michael Paré is a rogueish pretty boy good guy wanna-be hero, and 80's queen Catherine Mary Stewart is his prospective squeeze. Enter Adam Ant and a crew of blank-eyed religious minions who wish to take the tiny paradise from the hippies in their blissful ignorance.
Soon you have all-out war between the fanatics and the fuckups. It's reasonably entertaining, with enough action, humor, and buffoonery to warrant an hour and a half of drunken fun. The lameoid metal theme song only added to the tasty cheese factor of World Gone Wild.
Ah, the 80's. An innocent time to watch dopey crap like World Gone Wild, and it really wasn't that hard to convince yourself that you were having a good time.
A lot of this stuff has unfortunately never been made available on DVD. It's a shame, especially since there is so much dogshit out that that isn't even worth a second of your precious time. World Gone Wild is one of the casualties of the movie distribution wars, and I have no doubt that many would applaud the situation. Those of us who have a taste for this sort of thing find it to be a deplorable situation.
World Gone Wild is, fortunately, currently on You Tube
. It's a fairly crappy print, but, hey, it's not like we didn't squint through plenty of tapes that had been cruelly misused by negligent renters back in the days of yore.
Saturday, December 12. 2015
I got onboard the Joe Lansdale bandwagon early on. Hearing great things about his writing, I bought The Drive-In when I saw it on the shelf at WaldenBooks. Remember them?
I was an instant fan, and since then I have bought and devoured every Lansdale book I could get my hands on. Which included Savage Season. I bought the original Bantam paperback, and it sported the coolest cover I had ever seen. The salesperson at Walden didn't share my admiration, and she made a disgusted noice when she inspected it.
Joe R. Lansdale can have that effect upon people, and not just from the covers. His work is often hyperviolent, profane, irreverent. That's all that is seen by myopic individuals. Discerning readers come back to his work again and again for the humanity, the wit, the sense of justice. And, most of all, because Joe is one of the best storytellers in the business.
Like most everyone else, I was blown away by Savage Season. It's a razor sharp story, but the main draw was and is the two protagonists in the novel. Savage Season introduced readers to Hap and Leonard, who have become Lansdale's most beloved characters. Most people know this by now, but just in case there are a few readers peeking in who have not partaken of the delights of the Hap and Leonard novels...
Hap is an aging white, straight-as-an-arrow liberal. Leonard is black, gay, republican. Both are serious badasses. Leonard might be the better fighter, and Hap is a superior marksman, but suffice to say that these guys can take care of themselves.
Hap and Leonard banter with outrageous dialogue in the stories, even while they find themselves embroiled in even more outrageous situations. They tend to try to help individuals in need, and in the process end up ass deep in shit, with their lives on the line.
So far there have been eight full-length Hap and Leonard novels, and there is one more on the horizon. Not only that, we are about to get what fans have been clamoring for all along: A cinematic adaptation of the books. A TV series from The Sundance Channel is coming soon.
Lansdale has written some shorter Hap and Leonard fiction along the way, and now Tachyon Publications has gathered them into a collection. Here's the rundown...
Hyenas: This is one of my favorite pieces of Hap and Leonard fiction. It's a tight, hard-hitting, violent novella that deals with a man who approaches the guys to help his little brother out of a bad situation. What seems like a simple task that may require a little roughing up turns into a terrifying ordeal. Hyenas was a stand-alone hardcover publication from Subterranean Press.
Veil's Visit: The title story of this Subterranean trade paperback was co-written by Andrew Vachss. It concerns a scary lawyer who comes to help Leonard out of a jam. The lawyer is obviously modeled after Vachss himself. Like much of Lansdale's fiction, it is darkly humorous, with deadly serious undertones.
Death by Chili: This is a much shorter piece, and it is kind of a locked-room mystery. Or perhaps a locked-chili mystery. A fun little story.
Dead Aim: This is the second hardcover novella Hap and Leonard novella that Subterranean has published. In it, Hap and Leonard run afoul of a classic femme fatale. It's more of a traditional mystery story than usual for the series, and it's not as graphic as Hyenas, but it's a terrific piece that shows Joe can play it a little lighter without losing any of the fascinating qualities that fans love.
The Boy Who Became Invisible: This is the shortest story in the collection, but it packs one of its hardest punches. It features Hap as a young boy and in it he learns hard lessons about loyalty and justice. One of my favorites of Lansdale's entire career.
Not Like Us: This is an original story to the collection. It takes place when Hap and Leonard have recently met in high school, and Hap is being targeted by other kids who don't take like that he has befriended a black kid. This one went in a direction I hadn't expected, but I greatly enjoyed reading it.
Bent Twig: A story that came out in George R.R. Martin's Rogues anthology. Hap and Leonard once again go forth to help Hap's girlfriend's troubled daughter. They wind up in an unexpected place and have to participate in an odd ceremony to get through it. It's funny, but the story is also dark and tragic.
The Hap and Leonard collection concludes with a whimsical interview the author conducts with his two creations that I had read before in Veil's Visit, and an overview of the series by Joe Hisownself.
Oh yeah, the book opens with an insightful appreciation by bestselling writer Michael Kortya.
True blue Lansdale and Hap and Leonard fans will have read the majority of this collection before, but it's great to have all of these wonderful stories together in one nifty volume. Hap and Leonard will be published on March 15th, 2016, and it can be preordered now from Amazon
and Barnes and Noble
Wednesday, November 18. 2015
And just in time for Thanksgiving, which was always a great time to be a Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan.
MST3K will officially be back. Unless you've been living under a rock, you know that Mystery Science Theater 3000 creator, Joel Hodgson, has launched a Kickstarter campaign
to bring back the beloved show. He has already brought in over two million dollars, which is enough to produce three episodes. Hopefully fans will help him reach his stretch goal of five-and-a-half million dollars, which will cover a full twelve shows.
I'm on board, and I feel that every true blue fan who can afford to do so should be as well. This is the perfect vehicle for crowdfunding. A show that is treasured by fans, but was canceled by the suits at the networks.
I fell in love with the show early on. My passion for trash cinema coupled with my abiding affection for wit made Mystery Science Theater 3000 a natural for me.
Any crowdfunding venture is a risk. Will they take our money and run? I don't think that is a worry with Joel. More importantly, will the new incantation only soil the memory of the show so many of us adore?
MST3K was canceled by Comedy Central, and brought back by the Sci Fi Network in the late 90's. The movie riffs were still funny, but the host segments were atrocious. I missed The Mads.
It's worrisome that a new host and cast will be used in the future shows. It isn't necessarily a bad thing. Many fans were in an uproar when Joel stepped down and Mike Nelson took over the reins as the hapless captive of The Satellite of Love. Most people came to love Mike as much as Joel. If not even more so. I'm not on Team Mike or Team Joel. I like them both. On the other hand, I have never quite warmed to Bill Corbett as Crow.
The proposed new host will be Jonah Ray, who is a host on The Nerdist, whatever the hell that is. I personally folded up and put away my Geek Flag quite a while ago. Today's breed of nerd brings me no joy. Especially in the light of things like Gamergate and all those pathetic award puppies.
Still, I have an open mind and I am enthusiastically following and applauding the success of the Kickstarter campaign. I derived so much pleasure from Joel's odd little TV show that I feel I owe him. I'm in for a tee shirt and a download of the first show.
Sometimes this stuff works. Ash Vs Evil Dead is pleasing most of the fans of the old Evil Dead movies.
So, please, if the old show made you smile. Helped you forget your troubles every week. Please be a part of this. At a time when people are angry, scared, self-righteous, we need Mystery Science Theater 3000 more than ever. Join us
, won't you?
Sunday, November 1. 2015
Morbid thoughts on a gloomy, grey, first of November...
Another Halloween has come and gone, and it was as anticlimactic as usual. I think about what I did on the day, and the things I could have, should have, done.
It makes me wonder how many more Halloweens I will see. I'm not that old at age fifty-four, but I'm not young either. It's an age when you start too see your contemporaries die. Some are no surprises as they killed themselves with booze, drugs, smoking, bad eating habits, or other destructive means. Others are grim surprises.
What will be the last book I read to completion? What will be the final movie I pay to see in a theater? What will be the last part I manufacture as a machinist? When will be the last time I climb the lookout tower at the local nature park and gaze at the wetlands below? When will be the last time I have the simple pleasure of sharing a pizza pie with someone?
It's not too healthy to obsess on such things. Solitude can do that to you. Make you gaze into the abyss and feel the horror.
I believe that I have many years left, but no one knows for sure about that one. Do we? No sir. Death comes calling in its own time.
I want, need, to make the time count from now on. It's bad enough that I have to be imprisoned in a machine shop so much, so I want to make better decisions from now on.
The biggest is how I need to focus on living sane and sober. Most addicts of drugs and alcohol will tell you that they do it because they like the buzz so much. It's probably true in some cases, but I think most do so to hide from others and from themselves. A blinding, blurring cloak of inebriation keeps one from confronting the demons. It also prevents us from conquering them.
I've been on and off the booze so many times. Last night I drank quite a bit. I feel physically all right today, but I feel spiritually bankrupt. I feel like it was a wasted day and night. I don't want to blow any more of my weekends.
Also, I need to avoid people who bring me down in any way. Old friends or not. Again, I have to put up with negativity and aggression at work. On my time, I don't need it. I want people in my life to lift me up, as I hope to do the same in return. I've done the negativity thing. Oh yes. I've specialized in it. It's a dead end road.
I want to read things that bring me happiness. If I'm not enjoying it, I'm done. I don't care if it's a friend or a beloved writer. If I don't like it, I'll say so if asked if it comes up in conversation. Not in a hateful way, but with honesty.
I've been spending fewer hours at the computer. The forum here is still going strong, but it's not nearly as busy as it has been in the past. I'm coming up on time to renew, and I will do so again this year, I think. Part of me, a big part in fact, would like to chuck it all. The idea of it is liberating, but there are a few people who like the boards and rely on them as part of their routines. We're all struggling to get through this life as sanely as we can, and if this site helps some people, well, then I am accomplishing something here.
I can't complain. I have a job and my bills are current. Great books are coming out all the time. I have my health and I walk and exercise as much as I can. I just need to make better life choices.
Tuesday, October 20. 2015
You, the debut novel by Caroline Kepnes, is a disturbing and engrossing piece of fiction. It's a study of obsession, lust, and murderous rage in the modern age of social media. In it, a man stalks and woos a woman he met in a bookstore. He obtains her name from her credit card, and in no time he knows everything he needs to know about her. He wastes no time in launching his campaign to own her. Well, what did she expect?
Wait. Before the PC Posse breaks out the tar and feathers and comes for me, please allow me to elaborate. I'm not claiming that the woman "deserved what she got". What I am saying is, everyone--man or woman, old or young--takes a chance of getting unwelcome attention when they put their entire lives on display on the social media platforms.
You is written in an uncomfortably intimate second-person narrative from the perspective of the stalker. The entire novel is a long-running imaginary conversation with the "You" in question, which happens to be the woman he has fixated upon. He will do anything to possess her, and woe betide the friends, competitors, or anyone else who gets in the way of his quest.
The really distressing thing about You is how the book is so initially repugnant, but also how the reader begins to relate to the narrator. We kind of want him to succeed. Reading this white-knuckle novel is kind of like a literary Stockholm Syndrome.
You is also a satire of the hipster age we live in. It mercilessly skewers the hipper-than-thou people we so love to hate. Those who name-drop "cool" artists, filmmakers, authors, when they all-too-often are woefully ignorant of the subjects. Lazy fauz intellectuals who are too aloof to feel genuine passion about anything. The kind of people who express their emotions and feelings through hashtags.
You is always gripping, occasionally hilarious, ghastly, and even a little bit touching. In a sickening sort of way. It's easily one of the best books I have read in 2015. I'm counting the days until the sequel, entitled Hidden Bodies
, is published.
Wednesday, October 14. 2015
When I first began reading horror fiction in a serious way, there were several writers who came highly recommended. Most of these were, at first, brought to my attention from Stephen King. Later, when I began reading things like The Twilight Zone Magazine and The Horror Show, I started getting recommendations from various sources.
The essential names were writers like Peter Straub, Charles L. Grant, Ramsey Campbell, Dennis Etchison, Michael McDowell, T. E.D. Klein. Another important name was T.M. Wright.
T.M. Wright had published a number of books by 1984, but that is when I first read him. It was a novel called A Manhattan Ghost Story. This book was unlike anything I was reading at the time. It is unlike anything I had read before or since. Wright's approach is literary, surreal, suggestive rather than graphic, and incredibly mature by most standards of the genre. I quickly read others by him, like Strange Seed and The Playground.
T.M. Wright became one of the writers whose work I never missed. By the late 90's, however, there was little to be found by him, and then he had a resurgence of popularity in the 2000's. If anything, his work got weirder and more bizarre. His Cemetery Dance publication, The Eyes of the Carp, is one of the weirdest books I have ever read.
Wright was very active in the message boards. He was one of the most vocal members of the Shocklines forums. He was opinionated, and sometimes he ruffled some feathers. Wright always had strong political views, and his passionate convictions sometimes caused a stir. But he provoked thought and discussion. And T.M. Wright was always a gentleman about it.
The man is a poet. An illustrator. An editor and, above all, a damned fine writer. One who sought to elevate the genre to higher levels than most conceive horror fiction's capabilities.
T. M. Wright's health has been poor for quite some time, and now I have learned that he is no longer able to feed himself. He is hospitalized and is getting intravenous nutrition.
It's tragic, but the real tragedy is that his name never seems to come up when people are discussing horror fiction. I'm sure that most younger readers have not read him. When the work of T.M. Wright ought to be required reading for anyone with interest in the genre.
But then the work of T.M. Wright might be too literary, too weird, too challenging for many. I think readers were more adventurous back when Wright first made his mark.
Still, his books are available. Many are on Kindle, and used copies of them are plentiful and very inexpensive. The man sold a lot of books in the 80's, and they are easy to find. Some of his works are out in audio format. If you are among the uninitiated, The Playground would be a great place to start. Or A Manhattan Ghost Story.
T.M. Wright is one of the best we've ever had, and my heart is heavy at this turn of events.
Thursday, September 17. 2015
I recently saw an ad for some kind of tutorial program done by James Patterson. I didn't delve too deeply into it, but the quoted headline went something like "Focus on the story, not the sentence". I suppose that is fine for the kind of hackwork that comes out under the collective James Patterson byline.
In his mosaic novel, Hearts in Atlantis, one of Stephen King's characters was expounding on the craft of writing and the act of reading. The character instructs a young boy to not be like a snob, and to read for the story. Other times, read for the language. But when a book has both an excellent story, and good writing, to treasure it.
The latter can be difficult to find in genre fiction. Hell, the former can be tough to find of in this day and age of everything goes publishing.
Daniel Kraus achieves the task of delivering a cracking good story with exquisite writing every time he publishes a book. I've been a fan for quite some time, but he has outdone himself with The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch (Part 1).
I've enjoyed all of Kraus's previous work, with Rotters being a particular favorite, but nothing prepared me for experience I got from reading The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch. This is an extraordinary book. Think Charles Dickens meets Robert McCammon and you might have an idea of the scope of this novel.
In The Death of Zebulon Finch, the reader is introduced to the titular character in the form of first person narrative. Finch is a boy in the year of 1896. He is taught writing skills and to speak proper English by his mother. Yet he is unhappy, and turns to a life of crime more out of desire for adventure than greed. Young Finch is a cocksure lad, and his recklessness brings him to an untimely death. A temporary death, for Zebulon Finch rises from his watery grave to walk the Earth again.
Wait! Don't run! This isn't another zombie novel, or if it is, it is utterly unlike any you have ever encountered before.
Hungering for revenge and desperate to discover some sort of meaning to his erroneous existence, Zebulon Finch finds himself in strange and violent circumstances: A traveling sideshow where he is mercilessly exploited. The brutally bloody trenches of World War I. Finch lands in the grasp of a deranged doctor who torments him under the guise of research. And Zebulon Finch finds himself in the decadent circles of the early days of Hollywood talkies.
Kraus's long novel alternates between ghastly horror to ribald humor. The language is rich and Finch's voice never errs in the six-hundred and fifty plus pages of the book. And this is merely part one! Each sentence is a meticulously constructed marvel. I'm almost reminded of Clive Barker, but unfortunately Mr. Barker has not published anything this good in ages. If indeed he ever has.
I'm not the only one enamoured by the writing of Daniel Kraus. Fan favorite Guillermo del Toro has collaborated with him on a novel called Trollhunters
And, I beseech you not to be dissuaded from buying The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch because it is published as a Young Adult title. If you haven't figured it out by now, some of the best and most cutting-edge fiction is coming out in the Young Adult arena. And it's cheap. Where else can you get a brand new 656 page hardcover for under fifteen bucks?
The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch comes out on October 27th. Even if you've never trusted me before, please do so this time. This will be the perfect book to read over the Halloween weekend this year.
Monday, September 7. 2015
I go to a local nature park all the time. I love walking the trails and reading out there. I always carry a book and I go at least once a week.
Yesterday I went and saw something new. It was a tiny structure. Too big for a typical birdhouse, but too small to store much of anything. Upon closer inspection I realized that it is a Little Free Library box.
If you are unfamiliar with the concept, it is simple. You clear the deal with the Little Free Library organization, and for a one-time fee you can create your own Little Free Library. The idea is for interested parties to take a book as a loan, or even to keep, but to also bring back another as trade. It's an honor system.
I was excited to find this free library at the park. I had heard of these things, but I had never actually seen one.
I always carry books with me, and I went back to my car to find some. I gathered up these books, and I left them in the box. I know that the little library is primarily for young readers, but there was no rules about content that I could see. This does not mean that I will leave books by Edward Lee or others of the Vomit Brigade.
I planned to go back today, and this time I dug up some children's books. I picked a couple of ones that were precious to me in my own youth. One is The Secret Raft, by Hazel Krantz. This story is about some kids who build a raft and explore a swamp. They meet some scientists who are doing medical research on antibiotics. It's a fun adventure with a little bit of sneaky education thrown into the mix.
I also left a "Three Boys" book. There was a series of books about three brothers, Abercrombie, Benjamin, and Christopher, who have various scientific adventures. My favorite was Three Boys in Space, and it is the one I chose to put in the second lot of books to go into the Little Free Library.
When I went back today, only the issue of Cemetery Dance Magazine was gone from the items I left there. Slightly disappointing, but it's a start. I left the second lot of books, and went on my way.
I returned late this afternoon, and the two aforementioned children's books were gone. None of the adult titles, unless you count the magazine.
I plan to enthusiastically continue with this endeavor. I love reading, but I also love sharing great books with people.
I half thought of starting my own Little Free Library, but decided against it. I have nowhere to put it, and I'm fine doing this anonymously.
I have way too many books. I acquire good ones and hate to simply get rid of them. This is a great way to share and to help bring literacy--and horror fiction--to my community.
If you are interested in starting, or adding to, a Little Free Library, please check out the website and locate one near you. I'm already enjoying this quite a bit.
Monday, August 31. 2015
Mondays are hard enough, but I woke up on this one to devastating news. Wes Craven has died.
It doesn't seem real. Wes has been around so long. He's always been there in my life, creating movies.
No, I never met the man, but that does not mean I do not feel a tremendous sense of loss. Wes Craven, along with people like George Romero, John Carpenter, and Tobe Hooper, were like Gods on Olympus to me. Unlike mythological Gods, these guys were always fallible. They all made masterpieces, but they also made some real duds.
Wes was certainly no exception, but how many directors can claim to have made three genre milestones?
Last House on the Left was a huge success on the drive-in, grindhouse, and midnight movie circuits when I was young. Too young to have seen it until much later, but I well remember hearing the radio spots. They alone were enough to scare the crap out of me.
I eventually did see Last House on the Left at a midnight show. As well as numerous times on home video. I am
a genuine horror fan, after all. I never thought that it was a particularly good movie, but as a study in sadism, it is certainly effective. The manic performance of David Hess is what mostly set Last House apart from its competition.
Yet it struck a chord with people, and it did so outside the small horror community. That's real genre success.
Then there was the nearly unparalleled popularity of A Nightmare on Elm Street and its illustrious villain, Freddy Krueger. Moviegoers of all kinds responded to the story of a badly scarred child murderer who invaded the dreams of teenagers to torment and kill them.
People loved Freddy, and while the sequels became less frightening and more comical, they remained showcases of conventional effects. Freddy's grinning mug adorned many a cover of Fangoria magazine.
It was a great time to be a young horror fan. The genre was healthy, and Freddy led the pack of movies coming out. At least for a while. Time passed, and Freddy fell out of favor as the nineties commenced.
Horror was not all that healthy in the early to mid-90's, but in 1996 Craven made it hip again. Directing from a Kevin Williamson script, Wes Craven's Scream was a meta horror movie that was well aware of the genre's history, and it presented a new kind of slasher for a new generation. And it worked. Scream was produced for a modest sum, and it brought in mega-bucks for Dimension Films.
Not everyone was enthusiastic. Horror fans were starting to become cynical when Scream was released, and many felt that it was an ultimate sellout. Genre journalist Chas. Balun railed against it, and many fans vociferously despised the movie.
I don't know. Maybe Scream was too slick. Or maybe they resented that it was embraced by so many young people who knew nothing of horror. Maybe using recognizable TV stars in key roles had a lot to do with it.
No matter. Scream was a resounding success and it spawned three sequels and a television series. It is my favorite Wes Craven movie.
I have a very soft spot for his 1986 movie, Deadly Friend. It was a critical and financial flop, but I love this idiotic little messterpiece. I was such a rabidly goofball fan at the time, and my best friend and I saw it at a drive-in theater. under the stars on a cool night, sipping beers and watching the movie. How could one not enjoy it? It was a more innocent time, my friends.
Wes Craven did some movies that were obvious jobs-for-hire. Swamp Thing, Vampire in Brooklyn, and the Scream sequels come immediately to mind. Some might make an accusing shout of "SELLOUT!", but I never begrudged anyone making a living.
A few were real disasters, such as Shocker. Not that I didn't enjoy it. It's easy to dismiss Shocker as a sad attempt to create another lucrative genre franchise, but I had fun with it. Shocker is such a gonzo bugfuck experience. Like an acid trip gone bad.
The Serpent and the Rainbow is an underrated gem.
I don't fault Craven for his misfires. Film is such a collaborative medium, and the bean-counters are constantly trying to second guess the creative forces in most productions. Then guess who gets the blame when one fails miserably?
At his best, Wes Craven was one of the most ambitious directors in the horror movie realm. He dealt with archetypes of the subconscious and psychological motivations in his more personal movies. The man was intelligent, incredibly well-spoken, and while serious about his craft, Craven knew that there could be fun and laughter in being scared.
Goodbye, Wes. You helped shape the horror genre, you invaded all of our dreams, you provoked us to scream with delight, and you made us think while you did it. Thanks.
Monday, August 24. 2015
Forget the movie. Please.
It occurred the me that there might be some who haven't read Richard Matheson's classic novel, I Am Legend. I understand that not everyone enjoys reading the classics, but this book? There are classics, and then there are legends of the field.
Matheson's I Am Legend is probably the greatest horror-SF novel of the 1950's. Its influence is immeasurable. The story of a world taken over by vampires has inspired several motion pictures. The Last Man on Earth (with Vincent Price) and the movie of the same title are directly from the book. Neither do it justice, but the Price movie comes much closer than the Will Smith debacle.
I Am Legend inspired The Omega Man, and George Romero admits that he used the novel as a template for Night of the Living Dead.
So I guess it is the illegitimate father of the Zombie subgenre. Don't blame Richard Matheson for the sins of later generations.
I Am Legend is almost certainly the first story to use scientific analysis to examine and explain the vampire in fiction. The lone survivor of a vampire breakout attempts to learn what created the epidemic. Even while he grapples with his sanity in the process.
It also examines the archetypes of the human tribe and definitions of the outcast, the hero, and how time, happenstance, and perspective determine who are the monsters among us.
Matheson's novel is one of the most important stories in the genre's history. It is a marriage of the traditional monster and the modern age of reason and logic. It's also a devastating nightmare vision of a future that seems all to possible.
Vampires? Assuredly not, but virulent pestilence, human prejudice, ignorance, or fear-induced violence? It seems more likely by the day.
If you are one of the readers who has not experienced Richard Matheson's I Am Legend, you owe it to yourself to do so. Then maybe you can move on to other Matheson classics like Hell House, Somewhere in Time, The Beardless Warriors, or his many superlative short stories.
And if you have read it, perhaps it is time to go back and see how well it was done long before most of us were born.