There are monsters that dress in the skin of men, and hauntings that go beyond your average apparitions, alive and threatening. Women turn to lizards, dead dogs can see, and the things that drive men mad can step from their imaginations into broad daylight or slink around by the light of the moon just beyond the sight of their own eyes.
Heartfelt thanks to Michelle Garza for this dark love. Read more at This is Horror.
It has been such a long time since I’ve checked in, that even my own blog doesn’t recognize me. Apologies for the absence. A tough month of personal loss. Hard to make sense of the universe right now. In “Emma Zunz,” Borges writes that after getting news of the death of her father, Emma realized…
I watched this at the Sydney Film Festival and I dug it. There was Ginger Snaps (2000) and Bigelow’s Near Dark before that, but U.S. indie offerings in the vampire genre have been somewhat wanting compared to what the British have been serving up for years: zombies (28 Days Later), for instance, and werewolves (Dog…
I’ve been reading, and more recently teaching this writer for ever. Most recently I used this piece in, strangely, my novel class, mmmm. To be reminded that a novel is just, not just, but just up-sized, an expansion and contraction, or crystalline refraction of random human moments, countless, like this: Truth is a Bearded Lady…
So I’ve been a fan of this show for years – I even wrote about it at Volume 1: Brooklyn and now I’m on it. You want a show that covers craft, art, suffering, conferences, story, inspiration, desperation, awards, missing out on awards, revision, publishing, self-publishing—this is it. Stephen Graham Jones, Paul Tremblay, Angela…
Aletheia by J.S. Breukelaar is just edge-of-your-seat GRIPPING.
‘Amazing technologies, deviant desires.’ Map that onto antebellum America, throw in some hardscrabble characters and a strange journey that cuts across time and space, and you’ve got Enigmatic Pilot, the second installment in Saknussem’s Lodema Testament. This is a seductive, enfolding trip of a novel, an audacious yarn that nods to the New Weird and tips its hat to the evolving traditions of Steam Punk, but owes as much to the ghosts of Melville and Samuel Clemens, whose spirits, like the enigmatic script at the center of the story, illuminate the pages with the queasily addictive light of true lies. More than just a subtitle, this ‘tall tale too true’ takes up where Saknussem’s cult hit Zanesville leeaves off, or rather before it begins, not so much a prequel as the source code. It is more accessible, less obscure, even more darkly hilarious, and packs quite a haymaker. If Saknussem has matured, he most certainly has not mellowed.
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