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And time to archive The Log again...
Monday, May 29, 2006 My newest column, "The High Wire," is now up at Storytellers Unplugged. Check it out here. Also — received the good news that my newest short story, "The Ghost Lens," has been accepted for Elder Signs Press's Horrors Beyond II anthology. Hooray for creepiness! Sunday, May 28, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Apparently, she was going around a sharp curve, and there was yon critter in the middle of the road. She knew she hit it; she just didn't realize she was bringing it home gift-wrapped to Mom and Dad.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Dear homeowner, Now I
don't imagine it will take them long to figure out who is behind this, but that
first few seconds or so is likely to cause heart stoppage. They're young,
though. They'll survive. I'd
sure like to see some ordering information coming up for it. It's still not
listed on Arkham House's site yet.
My friggin' car broke down yesterday in Martinsville, so I had to leave
it overnight, drive to Greensboro to work today, go drive back up this
evening to pick up my car, and come back home tonight. So I'm tired of
driving. Water pump and vacuum hose were shot, which ran a couple of
hundred bucks to fix. At least it wasn't the transmission (whew). Some
of you have read my story, "Fugue Devil." It's based on the most intense night
horror I ever had as a child (I was about 12 at the time), and to this day, I
remember every detail of it more clearly than I remember most waking memories.
In the dream, that devil-critter haunted these woods, which surround my mom's house,
and nowadays, I still find them a bit magical, for my own personal reasons.
They're not very large; maybe a dozen or so acres that create a buffer between a
couple of residential streets in this old neighborhood. In the spring and
summer, though, when everything's in full bloom, it feels like a great big
wilderness because you can't see the houses that, in reality, aren't very far
away. Today, I found all kinds of old relics from my childhood — mostly the
burned-out shells of my little brother's toys because, back then, whenever I
determined that he had outgrown his stuff, I conducted experiments in
pyrotechnical special effects with them. Today, I built myself a little
campfire, but I didn't burn anyone's possessions. Maybe next time. If
you'll forgive the indulgence, I'm going to relate here the original dream that
is certainly one of the most significant events in my development as a writer.
If you've read "Fugue Devil," perhaps some of the incidents herein will sound
familiar. Back
to summer 1971, there or abouts... The
dream opened on a beautiful summer afternoon, with my friends Bob Cox and Chuck
Neely and I playing in Cox's yard, just down the street from my house. I noticed
something moving in the sky, and looking up, I saw an amorphous black shape
zig-zagging rapidly across the sky, trailing black smoke. I asked what on earth
it was, and in an excited voice, Chuck told me it was the "real" Tazmanian
Devil, which was nothing like the Bugs Bunny cartoon character. If you saw it
and you were the last person to turn away from it, you would be marked for
death. Well,
guess who was the last person to turn away. In
the next scene, I was in my backyard with my little brother (who would have been
about 6 or 7 at the time) and my dad, who was grilling out steaks — a frequent
weekend activity at the time. My dad went into the house, and I heard something
moving up on the wooded hillside behind the house. Out from the trees came this
huge dog that resembled a bluish-gray greyhound — only this one was the size of
a horse. Then, from behind it came a ten-foot-tall thing, which had the ridged,
scaled body of the Creature from the Black Lagoon (colored bluish-gray, the same
as the dog); the wolf-like head of the demon from
Curse of the Demon; and huge golden
wings that resembled King Ghidorah's, from
Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster. The beast looked down at me and
grinned. I
woke up, shivering and in a cold sweat — something that I have never experienced
at any other time in my 47 years. It took me quite a while to go back to sleep,
and when I did, the dream took up pretty much where it left off. The
sun had just gone down, and my little brother and I were home alone. He realized
he had left some toys of his down on the driveway and wanted to go after them. I
told him not to because I knew the Tazmanian Devil was out there somewhere. But
I could not convince him to stay inside, so I went out to the back deck to watch
over him as he went down to get his toys (for all I know, these were the same
ones whose remnants I found up in the woods today). He had just picked them up
and was on his way back up the stairs when I heard something moving in the
woods. The back porchlight shone only a short distance into the trees, but it
revealed something coming out of the woods, and I realized that it was the huge
dog. Then, again, behind the dog, the Devil appeared, but this time its scaled
body was bright green. (If any of you ever had the Aurora model of the Creature
From the Black Lagoon way back when, well, that was its exact color.)
Again, the demon looked right at me, and again, I woke up in a cold sweat,
crying my young eyes out. It was now about 4:00
A.M.,
and I tried like hell to stay awake till daylight but didn't quite make it. When
I went back to sleep, the dream took up yet again. This time, I was at my friend
Bob Cox's house, believing I might be safe if the critter didn't know where to
look for me, and we were hiding out in his upstairs bedroom. For a long time,
nothing happened, and I could see the sky just beginning to brighten outside his
window. But then something crashed downstairs, and after a few minutes, I could
hear heavy footsteps down below. They started coming up the stairs to the
bedroom, and I realized we were trapped because there was no other way out. The
door burst open, and there was the Tazmanian Devil, having to crouch to get in
through the door because it was so tall. Now its body was a fiery, blood red,
and it grinned real big as it reached out to get me.
That's when I woke up, and dawn was just beginning to brighten the sky. I didn't
go back to sleep again. I
wrote the story, "Fugue Devil," in 1991, some 20 years after the dream. The
theme of the story diverges radically from the dream itself, but the creature's
main appearances are all there. Even here and now, I can recall every vivid
moment of the nightmare. You do dream in color, I can tell you, because
the various colors to which its body changed were quite brilliant. Needless to
say, because the creature came out of the woods (which adjoin Bob Cox's house as
well), at age 12, I looked upon them with a certain amount of fear for quite
some time. And nowadays, while I consider these woods one of the most friendly,
beautiful, and welcoming places on earth, they hold a special, somewhat dark
place in my heart largely because of that dream. Because the hills and valleys
the woods occupy are very steep, and they're in an area between residential
streets, there's virtually no chance of them ever being developed — thank God. I
think losing them would be like losing a family member.
Thanks to the notorious horror writer
Jack Kincaid, the very last available copy I have of
my
Fugue Devil collection has been
sold. However, the story, "Fugue Devil" (and its sequel, which is also based on
a damn near equally frightening dream I had in 1994) appears in my collection
The Last Trumpet, which is still readily available. I
would be thrilled if any of you were to pick it up, and I'd love to hear any
comments you might have on "Fugue Devil" (either yay or nay) itself. To this
day, I think it's my favorite of my tales. And
pardon my long blathering — I usually hate reading about other people's dreams —
but being here on a day so much like when I had the original dream and spending
time in those woods has really put me back in the old scary mood. I hope it was
good for you too. Now it's back to writing my current spooky tale — "The Ghost
Lens." If all goes according to plan, you may actually be seeing it in print in
the not-too-distant future.
Golda is herself a writer, with an award-winning novel titled
Nelcott Is My Darling. A sweet young woman with a great sense of humor.
How she came to hang with my brother Phred is one of those mysteries of the 21st
century that may never be solved. However, they're a hoot together and I hope
they're happier than shit on a pile of horseflies.
Saturday, May 6, 2006
Kick-ass cover by Stephen Gilberts, no? There's also fiction by Scott Nicholson, Jay Caselberg, Gord Rollo, Brett A. Savory, Simon Wood, Alfred Taylor, Marie Brennan, Darren Speegle, Ian Rogers, and James S. Dorr; an interview with A. A. Attanasio; "Writer at Large" by Richard A. Lupoff; and pottery by Wesley Lambert, Lee Clark Zumpe, Kevin L. Donihe, Eric Hermanson, and G.O. Clark.
Buy this sucker.
(Clicking on the magazine cover will take you to the Book of Dark
Wisdom Web site.)
Wednesday, May 3, 2006
Warrener's
Beastie Warrener's
Beastie is a big, big book that feels a bit too big, particularly in
the beginning, as events start very early in the characters' lives, and we get
to know each in microscopic detail (and the original was even longer, prior to
substantial editing by the author). While it all seems a bit tedious at first,
as the tale progresses, Trotter's strategy begins to reveal itself, and the
reasons for focusing on early, formative events in the characters' lives become
clear. The novel details the lifelong journey of Allen Warrener, who moves from
precocious child to cynical, middle-aged college professor through a series of
experiences that are themselves the definition of irony. Early on, Warrener
experiences certain mystical events that shape the direction of his life, while
on a parallel track, seemingly unrelated mystical currents sweep up a young
woman named Karen Hambly; inevitably, these paths converge — along with those of
several other individuals — and their collective goal becomes the quest to find
the cryptozoological holy grail: a fabled thing known only as the Vardinoy
Monster, which haunts the North Atlantic near the Faeroe Islands. The "Vardinoy
Expedition" at first seems a grand, enthralling adventure. But as always,
nothing is quite what it seems, and events take more than a few unexpected
turns. Five beers out of
six. Tuesday, May 2, 2006 Got
lots of nice birthday wishes and a few goodies, so it hasn't been unpleasant,
despite feeling icky. I did hear from John Pelan that he was quite taken with
"Contact," so I hope we'll be seeing that one appear in Cthulhian Singularity
in the not-too-distant future. Back
to resting.
I was in
Martinsville, Virginia, again this weekend, this time dogsitting while
my mom was out of town. Last night, we had some old friends, Joe, Suzie,
and Sam Albanese, over for dinner and drinks at Mom's house. It
was my specialty — Thai beef, which turned out a little on the good
side. I put tiki torches around the afterdeck, which was quite beautiful, given the
wooded setting and very clear night. I was fortunate enough not to
eat any crawlies this weekend (referencing
this.) However, after
dinner we did go spider-hunting. Yeah, no kidding. If you have any wooded areas around you, you can
probably do it too. After it gets plenty dark, hold a flashlight up to your
forehead and shine it at the ground around the edge of the woods. The beam will
catch the eyes of all these spiders that have their webs down on the ground, and
the result is rather startling. Lots and lots of little glowing emeralds all
around, looking at you, staring at you, trying real hard to give you the creeps.
It's actually kind of pretty, all these little glowing spider eyes...
Fun,
wot?
On the bad side, I
seem to have developed a rather hideous respiratory bug. Am feeling utterly
miserable today, unable to breathe, and coughing my fool head off. In fact, if
you see my head rolling around somewhere, please email me so I might come and
collect it.
Saturday afternoon and evening was the highlight of the weekend, when
Beth B., Sarah, and the Siebers came down to my "Koffee Klatsche," which was
held in the hotel restaurant. We lit right into the drinks and some heavy
philosophical discussion (which mostly boiled down to the fact that we are all
Brian Keene's puppets), and determined that the next big thing in horror will be
known as "Anatomy Horror." However, in order to "get it," you pretty much have
to be at a convention and under the influence. Most entertainingly, it became very clear early on
that Sarah S. is the devil incarnate.
The
con was very well run by Tony Ruggerio and Tee Morris, so hat's off to them.
They were far more professional than the Richmond Airport Doubletree hotel
itself, which often left something to be desired, particularly in the restaurant
service department. To be fair, the room was excellent and the staff otherwise
very cordial. Assuming RavenCon becomes a regular event, I could probably be
cajoled into returning in the future.
Here's the
deal. You check out the story from Amazon Shorts (it's only 49¢;
just click on the cover photo on the right to order it), and if you're
the first person to contact me (just use the email button in the lefthand frame) identifying the error, I'll send you a free,
autographed copy of The Lebo Coven — a $25.95 value.
I'll give you
one hint, and one hint only: the error is in the description of the
performance of one of the aircraft involved in the tale. Note:
members of the Damned flight sim squadron may not participate, since it
was one of them who discovered the error. So there.
My
brother and I are taking a nice hike through the woods. And yep, you guessed it
— ANOTHER FREAKING BUG FLEW STRAIGHT INTO MY MOUTH. Ack! Gack! Ptui! WHAT
THE &#$%&?! (If you don't know about eating bugs, read Thursday's entry, below.)
I don't know what the critter was; something big, black, and fuzzy. A bit of a
hickory
flavor, with a touch of vinegar. Anyway, here's the scary Damned family mug shot: So I'm
sitting here typing, and a big (BIG)
yellowjacket waltzes out from under my keyboard, apparently having
become annoyed with the repetitive thumping going on overhead. Well, s-o-r-r-y, I don't
recall having issued an invitation. I just hope she doesn't have friends who like to hide
in places where my fingers habitually congregate. Happily, I made this
little visitor flat before the stinger could engage, but she did look
disturbingly enthusiastic about giving it a try.
Oh, you think
that's the end of it? Well, our daughter Allison comes home this afternoon for
the Easter weekend, and as I go out to greet her, a slightly smaller winged
beast — a honeybee, by the looks of it — veers from its course (which was
perpendicular to mine) and at high speed comes barreling right into my open
mouth. Ptui! Again, fortunately, no stinger action, and the bee ends up a
masticated pile of ruin on the driveway. While you might expect a honeybee to
taste like, well, honey, it was nothing of the sort. More a tangy citrus
flavor, with perhaps a hint of Dijon mustard. And my tongue was completely numb
for almost half an hour. Go figure. Wait. On the way to
dinner (Thai), I get out of the car, open my goddamn mouth again (you'd think I
might know better), and a horsefly comes buzzing in. This one bounces harmlessly off my
teeth before it can reach the cavernous gullet and buzzes away,
perhaps annoyed, maybe even a little miffed. But me — I
have by now begun to feel distinctly uncharitable in regard to oral-cavity exploring,
keyboard-hiding, exoskeletoned organisms. Ever get that
feeling that bugs are crawling all over you? It's kinda like that right now, as
I'm sitting here listening to crickets and the like right outside my window...
What do you mean real grave robbers
don't do it in daylight? Well, we had to do it in daylight to, uh, take the picture,
yeah, that's it.
My short story, "Sky of Thunder, Island of Blood" has
just been posted at
Amazon Shorts. It's yours for only 49¢; once purchased, the story is yours
permanently, to be downloaded to your computer (in html or pdf format) or saved in your Amazon.com
locker. An unbeatable bargain for the price! Please do check it out —
here.
Sunday, April 2, 2006
Received interview questions for
Meat Grinder Press (nice title, eh!) today, so I sat down and did the whole
thing in one swell foop. Some entertaining questions on this one, so I hope
it'll be a fun read when it hits the streets. Leading off with a Godzilla
question is never
a bad thing.
Did a little Web site updating today
too, mostly rearranging the book covers to add
Evermore and fixing
up the "coming attractions" a wee bit.
Saturday, April 1, 2006
Also
received a nice blurb from Tom Piccirilli for Blue Devil Island. It's up
on my
promo page. Now, he
may be April Fooling me, but neither of us will ever tell.
And...it's time for the
bimonthly archiving of The Log... |
