The Midnight Diner

Above all, the goal of this anthology series is to:

spec·u·late: 1.  to engage in thought or reflection; meditate; 2. to indulge in conjectural thought

And all the stories are:

spec·u·la·tive: 1. pertaining to, of the nature of, or characterized by speculation,  contemplation, conjecture, or abstract reasoning

So you can see what potential we have here at The Diner.  It’s a speculative anthology series.  Which means, LOTS of genres are/can be represented:

Action-Adventure

Horror (Creature Horror, Paranormal, Lovecraftian, Quiet Horror)

Mystery/Crime/Hardboiled

Science Fiction

Weird Fiction

Suspense/Thriller

Westerns

Weird Westerns

Archetypal

Twilight Zone

Which makes The Third Level, a collection of short stories by the late Jack Finney, a must-read for folks looking to submit to future editions of the Diner (and a must read for speculative writers in general). This collection boasts great stories about odd little occurrences: slips in time, dimension-bending, fortune-telling, and other “odd” events that take place in the out of the way, forgotten corners of the world.

Imagine Bradbury – but told straight.  Without some of the lyricism and wide-eyed wonder.  And this is what makes the collection so powerful: Finney very gently, subtly  ushers each story into the odd and the bizarre and the strange.

Many of these stories deal with time travel, but focus more on things like: fate, predestination, “what ifs”, social climate change, rather than method (again, making his work very much like Bradbury’s).

Also, several of the stories are like “flip-side” tales of the weirdness we read about every day in the newspaper. So there’s a newspaper story about an odd corpse found in an alley, wearing out-of-date clothing, ancient currency lining its pockets? Well, here’s the story theorizing how that happened (“I’m Scared”).

I highly recommend these stories for not only their imaginative nature, but because of Finney’s light touch.  These stories ease into their realms of weirdness, almost without the reader even realizing it, at first.  And there’s wonderful synchronicity in his work. In other words, when you sit back and consider how he ushered you into weirdness, it makes sense.

Like the young man who’s a misfit in his generation, a man “out of time” because of his love for old cars, who lovingly spends hours restoring an old car, an old car that none of his peers like (not even the gals), then goes driving along an old side-road itself over a hundred years old – and suddenly, in the middle of this confluence, he finds himself almost thirty or forty years in the past (“Second Chance”).

And he’s there for a reason. Which is another nice touch to a lot of these stories. There’s a reason or purpose – even if impersonal Fate – behind these little time hiccups.

The Third Level’s out-of-print, but there are a few places you can snag it at reasonable price, second-hand:

Amazon.com - $4.99

Abebooks.com – $5.00

Definitely worth every penny. Used book stores may have it, also. I highly recommend hunting up a copy.

Kevin Lucia is a Contributing Editor for Shroud Magazine, a podcaster for Tales to Terrify and a blogger for The Midnight Diner. His short fiction has appeared in several anthologies. He’s currently finishing his Creative Writing Masters Degree at Binghamton University, he teaches high school English and lives in Castle Creek, New York with his wife and children. He is the author of Hiram Grange & The Chosen One, Book Four of The Hiram Grange Chronicles, and he’s currently working on his first novel. Visit him on the web at www.kevinlucia.com.

And that was it.

About a year and a half ago, I embarked on a mission to encounter OTHER horror writers.  Why? A good reason can be found here, in Brian Keene’s Keynote Address for AnthoCon 2011, “Roots”. Because how can you create something new, if you haven’t studied what has come before? (Note: I also have no life, and would rather read than experience actual human contact with anyone outside my immediate family, so this works out very conveniently).

I decided to share my thoughts here, because – as I mentioned in my first episode of Horror List 101 at Tales to Terrify – it’s very easy to get stuck in a rut. Have a narrow reading selection, even in the age of the Internet, and with libraries, and all that.  If you don’t even know the questions to ask, you don’t know where to find the answers.  So, my modest hope is to point young writers in the right direction.  Especially writers hoping to submit to future editions of The Midnight Diner.

So, here’s this week’s much-belated selection.  Critically acclaimed writer, Al Sarrantonio.  As always, a little Wikipedia-fueled background.

Al Sarrantonio (born May 25, 1952, in New York City) is an American horror and science fiction author who has published, over the past thirty-five years, more than forty-five books and eighty short stories. He has also edited numerous anthologies and has been called “brilliant” and “a master anthologist” by Booklist.

In 1976 Sarrantonio began a professional editing career at a major New York publishing house. His first short fiction, “Ahead of the Joneses,” appeared in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine in 1978, followed by a story in Heavy Metal magazine the following year. In 1980 he published 14 short stories. In 1982, after leaving publishing to become a full time writer, he began his first novel, The Worms, followed by Campbell Wood, Totentanz and The Boy with Penny Eyes. He quickly established himself in the horror field with such much-anthologized stories as “Pumpkin Head”, “The Man With Legs”, “Father Dear,” “Wish”, and “Richard’s Head,” (all of which appear in his first short story collection, Toybox). “Richard’s Head” brought him his first Bram Stoker Award nomination.

Sarrantonio is currently in the midst of a horror saga revolving around Halloween, which takes place in the fictional upstate New York town of Orangefield (novels to date: Halloweenland, Hallows Eve and Horrorween, the last of which incorporates three shorter Orangefield pieces: the short novel Orangefield, and novelettes Hornets and The Pumpkin Boy). Other horror novels include Moonbane, October, House Haunted and Skeletons. He has also written Westerns (West Texas and Kitt Peak), mysteries (Cold Night and Summer Cool) and science fiction (the Edgar Rice Burroughs-inflected trilogy Haydn of Mars, Sebastian of Mars and Queen of Mars, omnibused as Masters of Mars by the Science Fiction Book Club, 2006).

Sarrantonio was book reviewer for Night Cry magazine, the short-lived digest-sized offshoot of the Twilight Zone Magazine, and has been a critic and columnist for other publications. Because he has worn so many hats (novelist, short story writer, critic, essayist, editor, publisher, anthologist) and worked in so many genres (he has even edited three collections of humor, including The National Lampoon Treasury of Humor) his work, always interesting and often brilliant, has not, perhaps, gained the attention it deserves.

Ironically enough, I encountered Al’s later work in the Orangefield novels, before moving on to his earlier novels. If I remember correctly, I’d just finished Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes and was jonesing for some more spooky, cider-spiced, autumn-crisp Halloween-themed horror.  A quick search through Amazon turned up Halloweenland, Hallows Eve and Horrorween, so I snapped those babies right up.

And loved them.  Very clearly written in the spirit of Something Wicked This Way Comes, every word practically glowing with Bradbury-esque descriptions of autumn and Halloween (with an evil carnival to boot), the Orangefield books tell of this strange town in upstate New York that always gets a little “odd” during Halloween. That’s because the ancient demon Samhain is trying to break through the thinned veils into our world.

Lots of writers have tried to invoke Bradbury’s haunted, October magic. In my opinion, Sarrantonio is one of the few who’ve actually done it well, while maintaining his own style.  However, in some ways, the Orangefield novels read as homages of Bradbury’s Halloween.  Two more original – yet still Bradbury inspired – works are Totentanz and October.

Totentanz is basically Sarrantonio’s Something Wicked This Way Comes, though it has several unique twists – including an immortal prisoner of the carnival – that make it Sarrantonio’s own.  It still has all those classic vibes, though.  Of that evil carnival visiting town, offering up pleasures and delights and gifts and treasures…for a small price, of course. October, about an ancient, recurring evil that lives and breathes through others, hums with Bradbury’s soul, but the words and ideas are all Sarrantonio’s.

Perhaps my favorite work of his – so far- is The Boy With Penny Eyes, an eerie tale about a strange, emotionless boy…with copper-colored eyes.  He’s not quite right, this boy. Not quite normal.  Maybe not even completely human, and he knows things.  Things about us, deep inside.  And, he’s got a mission.  A purpose.  Of terrible, dread intent.

Best thing about Penny Eyes is the neat little switch Sarrantonio plays. Won’t go into too much detail, but he definitely leads you by the nose in one direction, then skilfully, smoothly flips everything on its head.

Unfortunately, as of this date I haven’t consumed as much of his short work as I would’ve liked to. I have one of his collections – Toybox – but just haven’t gotten around to it.  I did recently read one of his shorts, “The Only”, from the Charles Granted edited series Graystone Bay. Based on that story, I’ll definitely be digging into the Toybox soon (see what I did there?).  Also, two other novels of his I own that I was hoping to have read by now but haven’t are Skeletons and House Haunted.

Also, I’ve not been able to check out any of Sarrantonio’s edited collections, as of yet. I want to, because word has it he ranks right up there with Charles Grant as an anthologist. Portents and Stories are on my wishlist.  As someone who has a passing interest in being an editor himself someday (when I’m ready, and who knows when that’ll be), his edited collections are must reads, from all accounts.

Anyway, the king of October spookyness is Ray Bradbury, of course.  But the darker prince would be Al Sarrantonio, so his work is highly recommended. AND, like many veteran horror authors, Sarrantonio’s out of print work has come back in affordable ebook from through Crossroads Press. So snatch that stuff up for your preferred ereader today.

Kevin Lucia is a Contributing Editor for Shroud Magazine, a podcaster for Tales to Terrify and a blogger for The Midnight Diner. His short fiction has appeared in several anthologies. He’s currently finishing his Creative Writing Masters Degree at Binghamton University, he teaches high school English and lives in Castle Creek, New York with his wife and children. He is the author of Hiram Grange & The Chosen One, Book Four of The Hiram Grange Chronicles, and he’s currently working on his first novel. Visit him on the web at www.kevinlucia.com.

Manly Wade Wellman (May 21, 1903 – April 5, 1986) was an American writer. While his science fiction and fantasy stories appeared in such pulps as Astounding Stories, Startling Stories, Unknown and Strange Stories, he is best remembered as one of the most popular contributors to the legendary Weird Tales, and for his fantasy and horror stories set in the Appalachian Mountains, which draw on the native folklore of that region. Wellman also wrote in a wide variety of other genres, including historical fiction, detective fiction, western fiction, juvenile fiction, and non-fiction. Karl Edward Wagner referred to him as “the dean of fantasy writers”. ^[1]

Wellman was a long-time resident of North Carolina. He received many awards, including the World Fantasy Award and Edgar Allan Poe Award.

Three of Wellman’s most famous reappearing protagonists are Silver John, aka John the Balladeer, the wandering backwoods minstrel with a silver-stringed guitar; the elderly ‘occult detective‘ Judge Pursuivant; and John Thunstone, also an occult investigator. (from Wikipedia)

Now, it’s fair to say I’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to Wellman’s work. All I’ve read is a sampling of his “Silver John” stories. Silver John, however, is a fascinating character.  Here’s a bit about Silver John himself:

Silver John is a fictional character from a series of fantasy stories by Manly Wade Wellman. Though fans refer to him as Silver John or as John the Balladeer, the stories call him simply John. He is an example of the loner hero.

The stories are set in the Appalachian mountains of North Carolina. The time is never explicitly given but seems to be the middle of the twentieth century. John is a wandering singer who carries a guitar with silver strings. He is a veteran of the Korean War and resembles a young Johnny Cash. He frequently encounters creatures and superstitions from the folk tales and superstitions of the mountain people. Though John has no special skills or weapons (other than basic Army training), his courage, wit and essential goodness always allow him to triumph over supernatural evils. He has an implied mystic link of some sort to John the Baptist, and much of his personal philosophy can be traced to a “primitive”, Gospel-based, Christianity. He is widely read, and it is implied that his knowledge of folk legendarium is of Ph.D level. On one occasion he is “employed” by the State Department to investigate on their behalf a possible instance of Satanism.

The stories are rich in the customs and lore of the region and many of the folk songs John sings are authentic as well. Wellman did introduce some original songs and legends but his creations blend seamlessly with the traditional material. Whereas Tolkien integrated Northern mythology into his mythos, and C.S. Lewis the European Fairy Tales of yore, Wellman’s stories are drenched in the folktales and songs of old Americana; the haunting stories of the slaves and the tall tales of the Revolution, strange beasts, witch-women, and dark apparitions. As famed author Karl Edward Wagner wrote: “These stories are chilling and enchanting, magical and down-to-earth, full of wonder and humanity. They are fun. They are like nothing else you’ve read before.”

The short stories of John have been collected three times, as Who Fears the Devil? (1963), John the Balladeer (1988), and Owls Hoot in Daytime and Other Omens (2003). In addition, there are five novels about John. Wellman was planning an additional novel, to be titled The Valley So Low, but died before writing it. The title would be used for a collection of his stories, instead. (from Wikipedia)

I first encountered Silver John in the story “Where Does She Wander?”, in one of the Whispers anthologies.  It was a revelation.  Here was “genre-blending” long before it became a buzz-word and fad. And how? Because Wellman was tapping into myth, legend and folklore – and I think it’s safe to say that fantasy and horror both spring from those roots.

And John is a wonderful character.  A man wandering the countryside, eschewing complicated, “modern” and “sophisticated” life in pursuit of a quiet and simple one.  Full of arcane knowledge and a deep spirituality and faith in God, John lives simply and peacefully.

While dispatching demons and spirits and gremlins and beasties of folklore along the way, of course. He’s an iconic character, and more than one author – Brian Keene, being one, with his fan-favorite character, Amish mage Levi Stolzfus – has claimed him as an inspiration.

My first Silver John experience was the collection of short stories, Who Fears the Devil? What I really enjoyed about this is its linked nature: all the stories proceed in order as John makes his way across the countryside, and each stop along his way, he encounters some monster or demon or even a moderately Lovecraftian entity.

Wellman’s knowledge of Appalachian folklore is astounding. I’ve heard that he commanded lots of respect in scholarly/literary circles, and I don’t doubt it.

The next book I read was After Dark, in which Silver John stands against a tribe of alien humanoids who are seeking to infiltrate the human race. They look like us – except for an extra long pointer finger – act like us, but practice strange alien magic, and wish to slowly “breed out” humanity.  So in this book, we see Silver John’s ultimate flexibility – he fights demons, witches, warlocks, mages, spirtes, ancient beings and aliens, too.

What I’ve really enjoyed about Silver John are his principles.   That may see a little old-fashioned and idealistic, but then again, I’m an idealistic sort of guy. I’ve never been very fond of either post-modernism or nihilism, and even though flawed characters can be engrossing, it’s also nice to read about characters you sincerely WANT to root for.  Folks who stand for something.  Silver John is one of those characters.

I started this blog series not only for a general horror audience – and for my own whimsy – but also for those interested in submitting stories to future editions of The Midnight Diner. Eventually, I’ll detail in greater length just what the Diner is, how it’s – in my opinion – a quality publication, run by quality folks, pay irregardless.  And one of the reasons why Diner editor Scott Garbacz allowed me this space to post about horror was to educate those who’d like to submit to the Diner in the future.

For you folks, Manly Wade Wellman’s “Silver John” character is an excellent place to study the genre, the type of archetypal, iconic character we’d like to see more of here at the Diner.   A principled character relying on simple truths, God, and his knowledge of the arcane to battle against evil.  And the stories are so well written, rich, and full of substance.  Some of the “Silver John” books are little pricy and hard to track down, but well worth the effort.

**Update: Several reasonably-priced collections of his work can be found at Night Shade Books.

Kevin Lucia is a Contributing Editor for Shroud Magazine, and a blogger for The Midnight Diner. His short fiction has appeared in several anthologies. He’s currently finishing his Creative Writing Masters Degree at Binghamton University, he teaches high school English and lives in Castle Creek, New York with his wife and children. He is the author of Hiram Grange & The Chosen One, Book Four of The Hiram Grange Chronicles, and he’s currently working on his first novel. Visit him on the web at www.kevinlucia.com.

Gerald Neal Williamson (April 17, 1932 – December 8, 2005) wrote and edited horror stories under the name J. N. Williamson.

Born in Indianapolis, IN he graduated from Shortridge High School. He studied journalism at Butler University. He published his first novel in 1979 and went on to publish more than 40 novels and 150 short stories. In 2003 he received a lifetime achievement award from the Horror Writers of America. He edited the critically acclaimed How to Write Tales of Horror, Fantasy & Science Fiction (1987) which covered the themes of such writing and cited the writings of such writers as Robert Bloch, Lee Prosser, Richard Matheson, Ray Bradbury, H. P. Lovecraft, August Derleth, William F. Nolan, and Stephen King. Many important writers in the genre contributed to the book. Williamson edited the popular anthology series, Masques. Some of his novels include The Ritual (1979), Playmates (1982), Noonspell (1991), The Haunt (1999), among others.

I first encountered J. N. Williamson’s name in award-winning author Gary Braunbeck’s memoir (a must for all horror writers) To Each Their Darkness.  He recommended several of Williamson’s novels, and at the time I was searching out “old school”  horror writers, so I went out and hunted up several of Williamson’s novels in various second-hand stores.

And I’m not exactly sure how I feel about Williamson’s work. So far,  I’ve read four of his novels (also several of his short stories in the Whispers anthologies), and the quality of prose varies greatly from each novel.  However, there is ONE I’d recommend for everyone who wants to write horror,  but I’ll save that for last.

The Ritual is probably my “favorite”  of all the others. Very similar to The Exorcist, it reads quickly and is actually quite suspenseful in places, and offers some interesting speculations on possession, astrology, historical madmen, and the coming of the antichrist.  The only problem I found with this novel is a quirk typical of many J. N. Williamson novels, but also, to be fair, other horror novels too:  the-pat-explaination-for-something-bizzare-that-just-happened, explaining-the-whole-weird-experience-away-so-our-characters-can-blunder-even-deeper-into-trouble.  Many of his novels do this, which really stretches my suspense of disbelief just a bit too far.

Next is The Longest Night, a pretty unique haunted-house novel that was decently engaging, considering its length, and its pace moved along well, also.  In this case, the suspense of disbelief wasn’t stretched too far – was actually just right – but the third-person omniscient POV (for me, anyway) sprawled all over the place. It really undercut the tension, because it seemed like we knew what everyone was thinking, all the time, at the same time.

Premonition, somewhat of a sequel to Ritual (again featuring parapsychologist Martin Ruben), also moved quickly, and had some interesting mythic elements,  but two things hurt this one: SO MUCH KINKY SEX. I mean, seriously. At times, I wasn’t sure what type of novel this was – horror or an “adult” novel – and two: the plot lost all cohesion and fell apart in the end.

The Black School started decently…but this one, I must admit, I couldn’t finish. One thing that hurt it: the characterization felt WAY off.  Characters reacting to things way out of proportion, under-reacting, or not reacting at all.  Plus, this one suffered the same flaw as The Longest Night and The Ritual – his tendency to preface EVERY chapter with a quote.  One before Part One or Part Two works, but every chapter? Got to be a bit much, after awhile.

And the sad thing is, I really wanted to like The Black School. Seemed to have some intriguing mythology in its back-story, but the characters reactions just didn’t make sense, after awhile.

I haven’t read enough of his work to make a real judgement of this yet, but I wonder if Williamson was simply a better short story writer than he was novelist.  The short stories of his I’ve read are nice and tight.  His story “Privacy Rights”, in Whispers IV, was absolutely heartrending.  And while his novels feature a nice turn of phrase here and there, eventually the stories always lose cohesion, the plot suffers, and the prose slips from serviceable and adequate to downright clumsy.

That having been said, his strengths: his stories had lots of passion. Conveyed an immense emotional feeling.  And because of that, I’d say there’s one novel of his every horror writer should read, what I believe is his best: Don’t Take Away the Light.

Of all his novels, this one reads the best, boasts his most solid prose (from what I’ve experienced so far), and also seems intensely personal, taking childhood traumas and nightmares, giving them a supernatural vehicle.  For that reason, I’d recommend this read for all horror writers, because it’s one of the best exercises I’ve encountered in taking “personal” horrors and making them into excellent stories.

So, all in all – hunt up J. N. Williamson’s short stories.  Definitely snag a copy of Don’t Take Away The Light.  Get his anthology series, Masques. I’ve got one of them, and when I’ve read a few, I’ll be sure to offer my take on those, also.

Kevin Lucia is a Contributing Editor for Shroud Magazine, and a blogger for The Midnight Diner. His short fiction has appeared in several anthologies. He’s currently finishing his Creative Writing Masters Degree at Binghamton University, he teaches high school English and lives in Castle Creek, New York with his wife and children. He is the author of Hiram Grange & The Chosen One, Book Four of The Hiram Grange Chronicles, and he’s currently working on his first novel. Visit him on the web at www.kevinlucia.com.

And before I say anything else: I’m nobody.  Have very little to give credence to what I’m about to say.  Very lukewarm to modest publishing credits, a love of  horror, genre, and weird fiction, and an all-consuming desire to read.  That’s it, and this series isn’t an expression of my superiority or expertise, but a sharing of discoveries along my own path, as I’ve discovered them.

Given that, I feel the following is an important topic, for any horror writer interested in submitting to future editions of The Midnight Diner, and for young horror writers in general.

And that’s the overwhelming importance for horror writers to actually read a broad sampling of horror at some point in their career.  It’s something that has become, for some reason, a lot more important to me lately.  We’ve heard and read often the opinion of established and rising authors alike that it’s important to read outside your chosen genre, and this is very true.  I’ve stated often enough how grateful I am for a job – teaching high school English – that exposes me to a wide variety of the classics every year.  Because good storytelling is just good storytelling, after all.

But I’ve become convinced that someone calling themselves a horror writer should not only be immersed in the history of the genre, but also be aware of trending works.  Young horror writers should all be reading in their genre, in it’s past and present.

And I’m not exactly sure who I’m blogging this to, really.  Maybe me.  Maybe the former me, maybe to young horror writers just starting out in the genre who are like that former me.  I called myself a “horror” writer, because I read Stephen King and Dean Koontz (still do!). When I felt really daring, I read Peter Straub, and on occasion, John Saul. But that was it.  My knowledge of the horror genre was so very shallow, which affected the kind of horror I tried to write.   Worse, I think maybe I’d seen more horror movies than I had read horror novels & short stories, and it showed.

I remember the first story I submitted (not sold) to the first edition of The Midnight Diner.  It was bad, folks.  Combined all the worst elements of the Blade movies, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, every vampire/vampire-hunter movie I’d ever seen, and some comic books I’d read.  And it got rejected. No, check that: it got trashed.  As it should’ve been.  But apparently the editor thought maybe some promise existed there, so he invited me to submit again.

So, I decided it was time to write a kind of horror story I’d never tried before.  I noticed the Diner had a Cthulhu category, so, for the first time, I read up on a category of horror I had previously known only a little about.

And, wow.

I may’ve discovered Lovecraft and Cthulhu late in life, but it made a difference.  Just reading several of those short stories, researching the mythos nudged my ideas into new, different directions.  Out of that, I produced the first story I ever sold – “The Way Station” – which netted me decent money, also an Editor’s Choice Award.

So maybe I’m writing this blog to a young writer now – maybe someone thinking of submitting to future editions of the Diner – who has been writing the same zombie or vampire or werewolf story, over and over. Or, (as I eventually found out), rewriting that same Lovecraftian/Elder Gods/Ancient Ones story over and over.  Maybe I’m saying to them: “Read more horror. New horror. Old horror. Weird fiction.  Folktales, myths. Mix it up. Diversify, and push your ideas in new directions.”

Another important reason to read a lot of horror – all forms, past and present – is to weed out ideas that may be overworked, and at least confront us with the reality these stories have been done before, and need to be retooled in new ways.  For this, I reference Brian Keene’s keynote address for AnthoCon 2011, “Roots:”

A horror writer should know the genre’s history for several reasons. First and foremost, they should know it so as not to repeat the mistakes of its past. They should draw upon that history, letting the books and stories that have been written in the past inspire and inform and shape their own work. You know that novel you’re working on about Nazi ghosts haunting a tank? Graham Masterton beat you to it back in the Seventies. If you’re writing about vampires, you’ve probably read Dracula — but did you also read the works of Les Daniels, or Salem’s Lot, They Thirst, Vampyrrhic, or Lot Lizards? Maybe you saw Ramsey Campbell at a convention and were told he is one of the most important living authors, but you’re not sure why. This is unacceptable. Maybe (and most importantly) you want to become a better writer by studying and understanding the various styles of writers that came before you. The only way to do that is through reading.

You need to read fiction that has inspired and informed and shaped the genre into what it is today. Like those 28 Days Later-style zombies? I bet you’ll love Jim Starlin’s Among Madmen or Simon Clark’s Blood Crazy. Perhaps you enjoy the exploits of occult detectives such as F. Paul Wilson’s Repairman Jack, Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files, or my own Levi Stoltzfus. But have you read Manly Wade Wellman’s Silver John the Balladeer stories or William Hope Hodgson’s Carnacki the Ghost Finder? Like John Carpenter’s The Thing? Yeah? But have you read John W. Campbell’s Who Goes There?

When I heard Brian give this speech at AnthoCon last year, I thought: “Geez. It’s like he’s talking to me, four years ago.”  So maybe that’s who I’m talking to, now.

Another reason why I believe it’s important to read lots of different kinds of horror is that its tradition, its history is one of the things that makes the horror genre special.  This is something I knew instinctively, but honestly hadn’t really thought about much before this past year.

My recent quest to build my knowledge of the horror genre and its history certainly brought these thoughts to the forefront, but it was some recent nonfiction reading – Noel Carroll’s The Philosophy of Horror – that crystallized my thoughts in the following passages.  First, he calls horror a “post-modern art”, because post-modern artists:

“…whether for purposes of political criticism or for nostalgia, postmodern art lives off its inheritance….it proceeds by recombining acknowledged elements of the past in a way that suggests that the root of creativity is to be found in looking backward (emphasis mine)” pg. 211

“…the contemporary horror genre….differs from previous cycles (of horror) in certain respects that also bear comparison with the themes of postmodernism.  First, works of contemporary horror often refer to the history of the genre quite explicitly.   King’s IT reanimates a gallery of classic monsters; the movie Creepshow by King and Romero is a homage to EC horror comics of the fifties; horror movies nowadays frequently make allusions to other horror films while Fright Night (the original, thanks) includes a fictional horror show host as a character; horror writers freely refer to other writers and to other examples of the genre; they especially make reference to classic horror movies and characters.” (pg. 211)

“…the creators and the consumers of horror fictions are aware they are operating within  a shared tradition, and this is acknowledged openly, with great frequency and gusto (emphasis mine) pg. 211

“Read, read, read. Read everything — trash, classics, good and bad (of horror), and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.”