eldritchhobbit

Wishing everyone a safe holiday season full of warmth and love! View the full post.

The Christmas Ghost Story Is Much Older Than You Think It Is View the full post.

rewfoe: Check out my kitbashed K2SO! This one was a lot of fun to make! I started with the Star Wars Black Series K2SO toy, painted it with a few layers to make him look weathered, then wrapped his hands in tape, painted those too, added reflective stickers to his eyes, added the belt, leather cloak, and a hat made of sculpey and there you have it! Reblog it! Share with pals! Love, Rewfoe View the full post.

I’m excited to say that in Summer 2021, I will boldly go where no Signum University prof has gone before! I will be offering the 12-week online class “Exploring Star Trek” for M.A. students and non-degree-seeking auditors alike. I’m delighted at this opportunity! I’m pleased to announce that we will have a very special guest at one meeting of the “Exploring Star Trek” Signum University class in Summer 2021: New York Times bestselling author Una McCormack! What a delight this will be! The catalog page for the “Exploring Star Trek” class is now available. See the link below! Exploring Star Trek View the full post.

In my latest “Looking Back on Genre History” segment on the new episode of the StarShipSofa podcast, I talk about Ray Bradbury’s concept of science fiction as a “reflecting shield” by discussing The House of Night, Watchmen, and the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921. You can listen here. View the full post.

dramyhsturgis: Happy birthday to Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (11 November, 1922 – 11 April, 2007)! View the full post.

Just a reminder that these great dystopian works were meant to be warnings, not suggestions. View the full post.

The day is here, my friends! We made it! Happy Halloween, Happy Samhain, Happy soon-to-be Día de los Muertos, and Happy…. Anything that Makes You Happy! Thank you for joining me in my month-long holiday celebration. I truly hope you’ve enjoyed it. I have! (Source is “A Halloween Party! 1907″ by Yesterdays-Paper.) Everyone, please stop by here, grab a virtual latte or cider or hot cocoa, a candied apple or some roasted pumpkin seeds, or even a goblet of blood and a plate of brains, and say hello! Since many of us are at home due to the pandemic this Halloween, here is a way for us to enjoy some truly spooky and fascinating destinations safely (from Cult of Weird): “10 Strange Places You Can Explore Virtually.” Check this out! (Source is “Hope Owl’s Well On Halloween" by Yesterdays-Paper.) Let’s close with an excerpt from “Hallowe’en” by John Kendricks Bangs (1919). You can read the complete poem here. (Source is “Halloween Greeting” by Yesterdays-Paper.) View the full post.

(Photos above by Yours Truly. Plaster castings by Pumpkintown Primitives. The above are “1730s Lamson Death Head Plaster Casting” on top and “Plaster Casting Poole Stone 1754″ on bottom.) Look no more for some perfect streaming music for this Halloween season! Celebrating its 22nd year, “Out ov the Coffin” is hosted by the fabulous DJ Ichabod. What was born as a means of spreading dark and esoteric music to the Nashville area via WRVU, broadcasting from my graduate alma mater, Vanderbilt University (Go ‘Dores!), is now an spine-tingling and atmospheric podcast. Check it out for some perfect seasonal music! You won’t be sorry. Here is the official description of the show: “’Out ov the Coffin’ is a specialty dark-music radio program, hosted by DJ Ichabod, designed to celebrate dark and interesting styles of music, from the goth perspective. Brand new entries are featured each episode, alongside older favorites and cult classics. Oft-featured sub-genres include: Goth, Gothic rock, deathrock, post-punk, darkwave, ebm, industrial, damnbient / dark ambient, dark metal, neoclassical, ethereal works, film scores, and theatrical experimentation.” The time has come: The 2020 “Out ov the Coffin” Halloween Special is now available! Here is the official description of the episode: Having spent the bulk of 2020 locked in my crypt, hiding from the Red Death, I’ve set stockpiled a great deal of material for this year’s Halloween episode – a GREAT, great deal. So, buckle up, boils and ghouls. We may not be able to party like we want to, but in an attempt to make up for that, we’re driving this hearse into FOUR blood-soaked hours of Halloween Hymns this year! That’s right, it’s (quite possibly) the biggest coffin ever to be crammed through the internet and into your ears: It’s The 2020 ‘Out ov the Coffin’ HALLOWEEN SPECIAL!!!! Featuring: NEW, current, classic, and obscure FULL-SIZE songs from the most morbid realms of goth, post-punk, deathrock, horror punk, darkwave, damnbient, metal, and MORE, riddled with hundreds of fun-sized bites of cvlt movie dialogue, sound effects, trailers, TV spots, novelties, and, of corpse, horror film and television soundtracks, all assembled in ritual formation, and (g)hosted by yours truly, DJ Ichabod. Listen to or download the special here! Pssst! Scroll through earlier shows to find past Halloween specials. Last year’s was brilliant! If you really want to party on (or like it’s) Halloween, you can play several Halloween specials back to back! DJ Ichabod’s regular shows also make for perfectly splendid spooky listening. View the full post.

This year I took part in the Ladies of Horror Fiction anniversary mini-readathon, and one of the titles I read may be the best book I’ve read in… well, ages and ages: the Shirley Jackson Award-winning novella Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand (2015). A key word there is novella; if you’re looking for a wonderfully chilling read for the season that won’t take days to digest, there’s still time to devour this atmospheric, Gothic, folk-horror beauty. (My 2021 plans now include reading lots and lots of books by Elizabeth Hand!) Here is the official description: “When the young members of a British acid-folk band are compelled by their manager to record their unique music, they hole up at Wylding Hall, an ancient country house with dark secrets. There they create the album that will make their reputation, but at a terrifying cost: Julian Blake, the group’s lead singer, disappears within the mansion and is never seen or heard from again. Now, years later, the surviving musicians, along with their friends and lovers—including a psychic, a photographer, and the band’s manager—meet with a young documentary filmmaker to tell their own versions of what happened that summer. But whose story is true? And what really happened to Julian Blake? ” And here is a brief excerpt, to give you a sense of the atmosphere. Lesley I have no clue what went on between Julian and Nancy, but something did. I know that. He was different after that weekend, not just different towards me but … changed, somehow. Back then you’d meet people who got involved with cults. Jesus freaks or swami so-and-so. Julian never joined a cult that I knew of, but he had that same glittery look in the eye, like he’d seen something amazing but was going to keep it secret because, you know, the rest of us weren’t worthy. Nancy wasn’t exactly like that, but she was a self-professed witch. And she does have a gift. She sees things others can’t. I don’t think she’s making it up, either. She may be slightly deluded, but she’s not lying. That weekend she stayed with us, I think she inadvertently encouraged Julian in whatever fixation he’d developed. Wylding Hall didn’t help, either. The whole time we were there, it was like being in a dream. Everything conspired to keep us from waking up. The weather and drugs and alcohol, the occult talk and crazy books and sexual tensions. And that house — you could just get lost in it. Whenever I explored the old Tudor wing by myself, I’d find locked doors that wouldn’t open; then the next time, they would. No one had a key. One of the rooms had been a ballroom — shredded tapestries on the walls, floor covered with dust. Overlooking it was a minstrel gallery with an amazing oak screen, carved with all kinds of strange things. Birds with human faces. People with wings like dragonflies or wasps. I used to stare up at the minstrel gallery, but no matter how hard I looked, I could never find the way in. No stairs, no ladder. There must’ve been a secret passage somewhere, but I never found it. - from Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand (2015) I discuss this novella in my recent Halloween-themed “Looking Back on Genre History” segment on the StarShipSofa podcast, October 2020′s Episode 645, which you can listen to here. View the full post.

(Art is “ Monstrosity #16 / 2019” by boris-markevich.) Here are some folk horror viewing recommendations for your day. From Kieran Fisher for Film School Rejects: “10 Great Folk Horror Movies to Watch By Yourself in a Candle-Lit Woodland Cabin.” From William Wright for Alternative Press: “Here Are the Folk Horror Movies Every New Initiate Needs to Watch.” From Adam Scovell for the British Film Institute: “10 Great Lesser-Known Folk Horror Films.” From Shane Scott-Travis for Taste of Cinema: “The 10 Best Folk Horror Movies of All Time.” Today’s reading recommendation list is from Jo Furniss for Crime Reads: “10 Novels Based on Folk Horror.” This quote from the article above seems fitting for the spooky season: The resurgence of the genre shows that folk horror is apt for our times. Identities are fluid. No bad deed goes unpunished. The civilized world is only a heartbeat away from primal and uncanny threats. The genre is also nostalgic for a rural England that is as far from Downtown Abbey as you can get in a four-horse carriage. This England is afeared of change. In times of crisis, we return to the old ways, which offer a reassuring connection to a simple past. But at the cost of old evils. There is a sense that all progress is a chimera, that our modern sophistication is itself a form of naivety. Step into the forest (or the marshes or the moors) and I am no different to my ancestors. Alone. Vulnerable. Insignificant in the presence of something older, deeper, unknowable but unquestionably there. I may glimpse a movement in the trees and wonder if it’s real. Then I realize that of course it’s real; it’s me that is ephemeral. Only I am in doubt. It is deeply unsettling for modern people to encounter forces out of our control. We believe we control nature itself; fertility, aging, health. We have a choice over where and how we live. Via technology, we have all human knowledge at our fingertips, so we rarely need to wonder. And yet our biggest questions remain stubbornly unanswered. Why do bad things happen? How do I know who to trust? What makes someone evil? (Art is “Monstrosity #14_1 / 2017” by boris-markevich.) View the full post.

- from We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson (1962) We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a novel that’s been following and haunting me ever since I first read it. It is included among these other great Halloween-relevant reading suggestions from James Pate at Sublime Horror: “Mid-century horror, a reading list.” And here are a few more atmospheric quotes for the day. There’s this: “I can’t help it when people are frightened,“ says Merricat. "I always want to frighten them more.” And this: “I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world.” And this: I thought that we had somehow not found our way back correctly through the night, that we had somehow lost ourselves and come back through the wrong gap in time, or the wrong door, or the wrong fairy tale. - from We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson (1962) View the full post.

I am so delighted and grateful that @OGOMProject put a vintage 1978 book on my radar this year: The Dracula Cookbook: Authentic Recipes from the Homeland of Count Dracula by Marina Polvay. I was able to find a copy in good shape, and it’s a treasure. If you’d like some festive and spooky mood reading, here is the introduction to the section on “Wines & Special Drinks”: And here are a couple of recipes, in case you like the warm, red stuff (but not in a vampiric kind of way): The Count and the Bride seem to enjoy it. View the full post.

(Photo source is “Witch Girl 2″ by HauntingVisionsStock.) Horror during a horrible pandemic? These links suggest that the one may help us cope with the other. I know my heart has been broken to pieces during this tragic time, and I’ve instinctively been seeking out horror to read. Ellie Marney at CrimeReads explains “Why We Read Scary Stories During Covid.” From Kayleigh Dray for Stylist: “Coronavirus: the psychological benefit of watching a traumatic horror film.” From Michael Marshall for New Scientist: “Horror Fans Are Better at Coping with the Coronavirus Pandemic.” From Corinne Sullivan for PopSugar “12 Sci-Fi Books About Pandemics That You Won’t Be Able to Put Down.” Earlier this year, I devoted one of my “Looking Back on Genre History” segments on the StarShipSofa podcast (Episode 613) to “Four Science Fiction Novels to Help Us Think about the Pandemic,” and you can listen to that here. Here’s a favorite quote from a favorite novel, one I reference in the podcast segment above: “I wanted to come, and if I hadn’t, they would have been all alone, and nobody would have ever known how frightened and brave and irreplaceable they were.” ― Connie Willis, Doomsday Book (1992) The entirety of Jack London’s The Scarlet Plague (1912) is available online at Project Gutenberg. Here is an excerpt: When he could eat no more, the old man sighed, wiped his hands on his naked legs, and gazed out over the sea. With the content of a full stomach, he waxed reminiscent. “To think of it! I’ve seen this beach alive with men, women, and children on a pleasant Sunday. And there weren’t any bears to eat them up, either. And right up there on the cliff was a big restaurant where you could get anything you wanted to eat. Four million people lived in San Francisco then. And now, in the whole city and county there aren’t forty all told. And out there on the sea were ships and ships always to be seen, going in for the Golden Gate or coming out. And airships in the air—dirigibles and flying machines. They could travel two hundred miles an hour. The mail contracts with the New York and San Francisco Limited demanded that for the minimum. There was a chap, a Frenchman, I forget his name, who succeeded in making three hundred; but the thing was risky, too risky for conservative persons. But he was on the right clew, and he would have managed it if it hadn’t been for the Great Plague. When I was a boy, there were men alive who remembered the coming of the first aeroplanes, and now I have lived to see the last of them, and that sixty years ago.” The old man babbled on, unheeded by the boys, who were long accustomed to his garrulousness, and whose vocabularies, besides, lacked the greater portion of the words he used. It was noticeable that in these rambling soliloquies his English seemed to recrudesce into better construction and phraseology. But when he talked directly with the boys it lapsed, largely, into their own uncouth and simpler forms. “But there weren’t many crabs in those days,” the old man wandered on. “They were fished out, and they were great delicacies. The open season was only a month long, too. And now crabs are accessible the whole year around. Think of it—catching all the crabs you want, any time you want, in the surf of the Cliff House beach!” A sudden commotion among the goats brought the boys to their feet. The dogs about the fire rushed to join their snarling fellow who guarded the goats, while the goats themselves stampeded in the direction of their human protectors. A half dozen forms, lean and gray, glided about on the sand hillocks and faced the bristling dogs. Edwin arched an arrow that fell short. But Hare-Lip, with a sling such as David carried into battle against Goliath, hurled a stone through the air that whistled from the speed of its flight. It fell squarely among the wolves and caused them to slink away toward the dark depths of the eucalyptus forest. The boys laughed and lay down again in the sand, while Granser sighed ponderously. He had eaten too much, and, with hands clasped on his paunch, the fingers interlaced, he resumed his maunderings. “The fleeting systems lapse like foam,” he mumbled what was evidently a quotation. “That’s it—foam, and fleeting. All man’s toil upon the planet was just so much foam. He domesticated the serviceable animals, destroyed the hostile ones, and cleared the land of its wild vegetation. And then he passed, and the flood of primordial life rolled back again, sweeping his handiwork away—the weeds and the forest inundated his fields, the beasts of prey swept over his flocks, and now there are wolves on the Cliff House beach.” He was appalled by the thought. “Where four million people disported themselves, the wild wolves roam today, and the savage progeny of our loins, with prehistoric weapons, defend themselves against the fanged despoilers. Think of it! And all because of the Scarlet Death—” - Jack London, The Scarlet Plague (1912) View the full post.

In the past I’ve suggested some terrific podcasts that are perfect for this spooky season, and I stand by those recommendations. Read my past list here! In addition, just a few days ago Emily Stein contributed this list to CrimeReads: “8 Great Horror Podcasts and Their Spookiest Episodes!” Happy listening! Now here are several podcasts that are either new or new to me in 2020, and I highly recommend them! 1. Monster, She Wrote: Scholars Lisa Kröger and Melanie R. Anderson are the authors of a book I thoroughly enjoyed, Monster, She Wrote, and now they are co-hosts of this wonderfully insightful and informative podcast about women in the horror genre. Don’t miss it! 2. The Goth Librarian: Goths and librarians are two of my favorite kinds of people, and here’s a host who’s both. What’s not to love? “The Goth Librarian Podcast is a weekly podcast covering true crime, oddities, urban legends, haunted places, and other dark peculiarities.” Episode 37 on the “Spanish Flu” is a timely and topical place to start. 3. Bone & Sickle: This podcast “is a celebration of the intersection of horror, folklore, and history. Every episode offers a bounty of frightful tales, fantastic legends, and macabre historical anecdotes harvested by eccentric artist, collector, and rogue folklorist Al Ridenour, author of The Krampus and the Old, Dark Christmas. Co-host to the show is Sarah Chavez of The Cabinet of Curiosities and Death in the Afternoon. With acerbic wit and a scholarly penchant for the grotesque, Ridenour delves into a wide but carefully curated range of topics that have included: Faust’s deal with the Devil, classical necromancy, murder ballads, ghosts ships, the Victorian obsession with Pan (and mummies), Basque witchcraft, the evolution of gothic vampire literature, and tales of saints carrying their heads after decapitation…” Thanks to Aaron for this excellent recommendation! 4. The Strange and Unusual Podcast: I’ve just started listening to this one, and I’m hooked: “The unknown, it lies at the root of all fear, and has inspired legends, folklore, superstition, mythology, and even murder throughout history. Still today we feel the shadowy presence of our ancestors’ struggles to explain the mysterious in our lives, as we continue to keep fighting to keep our monsters in the dark. Welcome to The Strange and Unusual Podcast, a podcast with a focus on dark history.” 5. The Tomb with a View: This is another recent discovery for me. The official description goes like this: “A podcast about the history, preservation, and culture of American cemeteries hosted by Liz Clappin.” If you’re looking for a good starting place, I recommend the recent, insightful, and timely Episode 54: “Constantly Looking Back: The Gallows Hill Project, the Salem Witch Trials Memorial, and Giving A Voice to Innocent Victims”: “Looking at how memorials can give a voice to innocent victims and how good historical research can help us to look back and understand what was previously unknown important facts about the past. The Salem Witchcraft Trials of 1692 are still being learned about and interpreted today as we continue to come to terms with our difficult past.” And here are some of my favorite Halloween-appropriate podcasts that were new in 2019 and remain very much worth exploring! 1. Odd Things I’ve Seen: For years, I have recommended J.W. Ocker’s brilliant Odd Things I’ve Seen website, and now he has a podcast. As he explains, “I visit odd things, I tell their stories, and I tell you how to find them. It’s Odd Things I’ve Seen, but out loud.” Gothic, macabre, and spooky! 2. Ladies of Horror Fiction Podcast: “Ladies of Horror Fiction was created to bring about a multi-dimensional way to support women who either write in the horror genre or review in it.” Check out Episode 2 for “The History of Halloween, Vanishing Hitchhikers and Weeping Widows”! 3. The Full Price Podcast: “The Full Price is a podcast that takes a cultural journey, walking in the shoes of the legend of stage, screen and sound, Vincent Price.” Price is perfect for Halloween, and this podcast is perfect for Price fans! *** Parting thought for the day: “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables (1908) View the full post.

This year I took part in the Ladies of Horror Fiction anniversary mini-readathon, and one of the titles I read is going straight into my next class syllabus: Darkly: Black History and America’s Gothic Soul by Leila Taylor (2019). What a powerful, insightful, and beautifully written work this is! Highly recommended. Here is the official description: “Leila Taylor takes us into the dark heart of the American gothic, analysing the ways it relates to race in America in the twenty-first century. Haunted houses, bitter revenants and muffled heartbeats under floorboards — the American gothic is a macabre tale based on a true story. Part memoir and part cultural critique, Darkly: Blackness and America’s Gothic Soul explores American culture’s inevitable gothicity in the traces left from chattel slavery. The persistence of white supremacy and the ubiquity of Black death feeds a national culture of terror and a perpetual undercurrent of mourning. If the gothic narrative is metabolized fear, if the goth aesthetic is romanticized melancholy, what does that look and sound like in Black America?” And here is a sample of Taylor’s haunting prose: The sublimity of the modern ruin lies in its relative newness, the purpose and life of the former building are familiar and recognizable, creating the dichotomy between the attraction and repulsion of our world gone to dust. We see ourselves in a state of decay. We are watching our own death, and in the photographs, ruin-porn websites, documentaries, and horror movies, we become mourners at our own funeral. There is a dark pleasure in this glimpse of the end of civilization, a taste of life after the apocalypse. Eugene Thacker calls this nebulous zone the “world-without-us.” It is a glimpse at what our world would be like without people, a place in which human beings are inconsequential. It’s not that nature doesn’t care about us, or is purposely exhibiting its domination. The world doesn’t even know we’re here. In ruined spaces, nature, the original builder, takes over, defying gravity and eschewing structural integrity, reminding us of what we once were and how small we really are. I have an uneasy relationship with ruin porn. There is a guilty pleasure in these images (hence the “porn” connotation), but having grown up in Detroit, it’s uncomfortable seeing my hometown perceived as sociological experiment, an art project, or a bargain-basement real-estate deal. There is a dissonance between my fascination with these images and the circumstances of their making. - from Darkly: Black History and America’s Gothic Soul by Leila Taylor (2019) View the full post.

If you’re looking for a contemporary vampire read, Vampires Never Get Old: Tales with Fresh Bite is brand new, edited by Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker with stories by an all-star lineup of authors including Samira Ahmed, Dhonielle Clayton, Zoraida Córdova, Natalie C. Parker, Tessa Gratton, Heidi Heilig, Julie Murphy, Mark Oshiro, Rebecca Roanhorse, Laura Ruby, Victoria “V. E.” Schwab, and Kayla Whaley. If you’d like to sample a taste from the collection, Tor.com has a spooky excerpt from Rebecca Roanhorse’s story “The Boys From Blood River” here. Enjoy a couple of eerie snippets. Now let’s go old school… But first, on earth as vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent: Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse: Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. From “The Giaour” by Lord Byron (1813). (Art is “Vampire” by akelataka.) View the full post.

(Photo by Elizabeth. See the original source here.) So often and so anxiously we have talked of this thing called death, that now that it is all over between us, I cannot understand why we found in it such a source of distress. It bewilders me. I am often bewildered here. Things and the fancies of things possess a relation which as yet is new and strange to me. Here is a mystery. Now, in truth, it seems a simple matter for me to tell you how it has been with me since your lips last touched me, and your arms held me to the vanishing air. Oh, drawn, pale lips! Nerveless, dropping arms! I told you I would come. Did ever promise fail I spoke to you? “Come and show me Death,” you said. I have come to show you Death. - from “Since I Died” by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, originally in Scribner’s Monthly (February 1873), as published in Avenging Angels: Ghost Stories by Victorian Women Writers edited by Melissa Edmundson (2018) View the full post.

It’s an old-fashioned puppet. The details are hard to make out in the dim light, but it looks like the puppet’s neck is broken. It’s a sad-looking thing, trapped there in its cage. Maybe I should let it out… - from Harrow Lake by Kat Ellis (2020) This year I took part in the Ladies of Horror Fiction anniversary mini-readathon, and one of the titles I’m very glad I selected was Harrow Lake by Kat Ellis (2020). This young-adult Gothic tale is a chilling and effective love letter to cult horror films and those who obsess over them, wrapped inside of a toxic family mystery, and topped with a clever framing narrative that pays off immensely in the end. Ellis allows her heroine self-discovery and hard-won empowerment and a realness I found to be very compelling. I would’ve devoured this with relish as a teen; as an adult, I thoroughly enjoyed every single line. Highly recommended! Here is the official description: “Lola Nox is the daughter of a celebrated horror filmmaker–she thinks nothing can scare her. But when her father is brutally attacked in their New York apartment, she’s quickly packed off to live with a grandmother she’s never met in Harrow Lake, the eerie town where her father’s most iconic horror movie was shot. The locals are weirdly obsessed with the film that put their town on the map–and there are strange disappearances, which the police seem determined to explain away. And there’s someone–or something–stalking her every move. The more Lola discovers about the town, the more terrifying it becomes. Because Lola’s got secrets of her own. And if she can’t find a way out of Harrow Lake, they might just be the death of her.” Ellis definitely has a wonderful way with words. Here’s an example. I watch the light creep over the tops of the trees and I rasp in painful, beautiful breaths, lying on grass and grit and a backbone made of stories. Stars fill the sky above me, echoes from some long-dead part of the universe, stories from long ago. The stars watch as I get to my feet and walk into the trees. Perhaps they are all monsters’ eyes. Perhaps they are not there at all. - from Harrow Lake by Kat Ellis (2020) View the full post.

(Art is “Halloween 2019″ by jackthetab.) Sadie Hartmann has a fantastic suggested Halloween reading list here at LitReactor: “Halloween 2020 Reading List.” Two other books to that deserve to be on any list include the new Weird anthologies from Handheld Press, British Weird: Selected Short Fiction, 1893-1937 edited by James Machin and Women’s Weird 2: More Strange Stories by Women, 1891-1937 edited by Melissa Edmundson. And guess what? Next week, you can take part in the book launch for these two volumes online for free! Weird book launch: Tuesday, 27th October 2020 At 19.30 UK time / 13.30 EST on Tuesday, 27th October, Handheld Press be hosting a Zoom book launch for our two new Weird anthologies, British Weird, edited by James Machin, and Women’s Weird 2, edited by Melissa Edmundson. Kate Macdonald of Handheld Press will be moderating. To sign up to attend this online book launch, go here for details! (Photo by Yours Truly.) There was never more curiosity than there is today about ‘the uncanny’ or ‘strange things’ – ‘things’ that even in our fathers’ day it was improper to believe in at all…. Even now old forumlae haunt and stir. LOVE: I have fallen upon the breast of Despoina, Queen of the Underworld. DEATH: You shall find on the left of the House of Hades a well-spring. Beside it is a white cypress. Say: ‘I am the child of earth and the starry heavens. But my race is of the stars.’ Formulae that are very old. The time may be coming when, their ritual origins traced, their risings and settings chased through our subconscious, we shall know what powers we have evoked exterior to us…. If we do not find out, we had better look out for ourselves. We have been careless lately what spiritual company we have kept; in our choices of ghostly guests. - from “‘Ghosties and Ghoulies’: Uses of the Supernatural in English Fiction” by Mary Butts (1913) in British Weird: Selected Short Fiction, 1893-1937, edited by James Machin View the full post.

(Art is “Zbrush Doodle: Day 1750 - Festive Pumpkin” by UnexpectedToy.) For today, here is the atmospheric opening of the short story “Haunted!” by Jack Edwards, originally published in The Weekly Tale Teller #83 (December 3, 1910), as found in Glimpses of the Unknown: Lost Ghost Stories edited by Mike Ashley (2018): When Roydon came down the stairs he saw it waiting for him, and as usual it vanished as he approached. He went into his bedroom, which, with the rest of the rooms of the flat, was on the floor below the studio. The chintz-covered chair complained in all its wicker frame at the heavy descent of his body. A large blue-bottle from the lime-trees below the half-opened window buzzed in the silk of the casement blinds, and the hot sunlight lay in bars on the floor. The roar of the motor traffic on the north side of the square, modulated by the distance, bore with it the faint jangle of a piano organ like a treble melody half drowned by a tuneless base, but he did not hear the noise of the street any more than he noted the golden noon or the buzzing of the fly or the creaking protest of the chair. His hands were limp, and his legs stuck out stiffly before him. His chin was sunk on his breast, and his eyes goggled beneath his frowning brows. It was the face of a man who had begun to be afraid. He sat thus, looking neither to the past not to the future, but permitting only the horror of the present to absorb him. To-day it had seemed more tangible. He had faintly discerned a face; the blurred outline of a form; a suggestion of limbs. View the full post.

If you’re looking for a truly beautiful and meaningful work to read this October, then try this first novel from one of my favorite authors, Lipan Apache wordsmith Darcie Little Badger. This is not a work about Halloween, but with magic and monsters, murder and ghosts, it’s perfect for the season. In fact, it’s perfect, full stop. By page four, Elatsoe had me: “She could handle mundane dangers, like violent men with guns or knives, but every tunnel, bridge, and abandoned building in the city was allegedly home to monsters. She’d heard whispers about clans of teenage-bodied vampires, carnivorous mothmen, immortal serial killers, devil cults, cannibal families, and slenderpeople.” What genius is this? And don’t get me started on the scarecrows with real human eyes. Or Kirby the ghost dog, the best boy ever. Or the locals who stare at strangers. Or Teddy Roosevelt. Here is the official description of Elatsoe: “Imagine an America very similar to our own. It’s got homework, best friends, and pistachio ice cream. There are some differences. This America been shaped dramatically by the magic, monsters, knowledge, and legends of its peoples, those Indigenous and those not. Some of these forces are charmingly everyday, like the ability to make an orb of light appear or travel across the world through rings of fungi. But other forces are less charming and should never see the light of day. Elatsoe lives in this slightly stranger America. She can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. Her beloved cousin has just been murdered, in a town that wants no prying eyes. But she is going to do more than pry. The picture-perfect facade of Willowbee masks gruesome secrets, and she will rely on her wits, skills, and friends to tear off the mask and protect her family.” I can’t recommend this young-adult novel highly enough (for YA and adult readers alike). I laughed and I cried; I also punched the air in triumph three separate times. I want to foist this book on everyone I know. Here is a taste: Sometimes, the world was too mysterious for her liking; Ellie intended to change that someday. In the kitchen, her father nursed a mug of coffee. “You’re awake before noon?” he asked. “Did summer end while I was sleeping?” He smiled with his mouth, but his brown eyes seemed sad. “Feels like it,” Ellie said. “Where’s Mom?” “She took a dawn flight to McAllen.” “Is that because…” Ellie trailed off. Every word about the tragedy felt like a psychic paper cut, and too many stings would make her cry. There was nothing shameful about tears, but Ellie hated the way her face ached when she wept. The pain felt like a head cold. “When did it happen?” “Last night,” her father said. “Around two-thirty. He peacefully walked to the underworld. No struggle, no pain.” “No pain? You can’t know that, Dad.” Although Ellie spoke softly, he heard her. Must have. He no longer pretended to smile. “Lenore needs help with Baby Gregory. That’s why your mother left suddenly.” He put his coffee on the counter and hugged Ellie. His wool vest tickled her chin. Ellie’s father had to wear blue scrubs and a physician’s lab coat at work, but during off-days, he broke out the cable-knit sweaters, tweed pants, and scratchy wool vests. “She has other duties. Your aunt and uncle are crushed with grief. They can’t handle the burial preparations alone.” Oddly, thinking about Trevor’s widow, infant son, and parents helped Ellie push through. She had a job to do: protect them from Abe Allerton. “Are the police investigating the crash?” she asked. “I believe so.” “Let me make it easier. Abe Allerton killed him. Abe Allerton from a town called Willowbee.” Her father stepped back, perturbed. “Why do you believe that?” “Cuz spoke to me in a dream. Told me who killed him. Same way that drowned boy told Six-Great-Grandmother about the river monster.” “I see.” Judging by his furrowed brow, that was an exaggeration, at best. “Wait. What river monster are you referring to? Didn’t she fight a few?” “The one with a human face and poison scales. That’s not important. Dad, I think Cuz reached out to me in between phases, after his last exhale but before his spirit went Below.” “It’s possible. You and Six-Great are so much alike.” “You think so?” she asked. “Sure. I never met the woman, obviously, but you’re both remarkable ghost trainers. Intelligent and brave, too.” Ellie smiled faintly. “Thanks,” she said, taking a glass from the cupboard and pouring herself some orange juice. She had no appetite for solid breakfast. “You know what this all means, though, right? Abe Allerton from Willowbee is a murderer, and he cannot hurt anybody else.” - from Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger (2020) You can read a longer excerpt from Elatsoe here and access a Q&A with Darcie Little Badger and see related videos here. You can also find links to some of Darcie Little Badger’s spooky online short stories on her website here. The book is gorgeously illustrated by artist Rovina Cai. View the full post.

It’s film time! Every year about this time I think about good Halloween films (not necessarily horror movies, and definitely not lame slasher pictures, but suspenseful, atmospheric films that put a chill up the spine) that are “off the beaten path” – that is, films that are independent, foreign, direct to DVD or VOD, or somehow under promoted, and thus might easily slip under the proverbial radar. Not the classics. Not the usual suspects. I’ve already made a separate post in the past with recommendations of Anton Yelchin’s Halloween-friendly films, so I won’t repeat those here. Now I have a few new recommendations to add to my list, based on this past year’s viewing. (We accessed nearly all of these via Netflix or Amazon streaming.) Here they are in reverse chronological order: Here are my 2019 recommendations: You Should Have Left (2020): This is a very effective troubled-family-on-vacation film, packed with layered characterization and psychological unease. The incredible chemistry between Kevin Bacon and Avery Essex makes a genuinely moving father-daughter relationship the heart of this film. It really works. American Hangman (2019): This is a powerful thriller with a lot of meaning. Even though Donald Sutherland’s genius is undisputed, it’s still stunning to watch him here. I’ll use the official description so I don’t give more away than I should: “Two men are chained up in a basement. The captor has cameras aimed at them and is streaming it on the internet – turning it into a ‘trial’ on the held, retired judge’s last court case. The viewers become the jurors.” The Color Out of Space (2019): This is an adaptation of one of my very favorite Lovecraft works, so I was braced for disappointment. Instead, this turned out to be one of our favorite films of the year. Sensitive, poignant, and genuinely scary, this film genuinely delivers on every level, including the pathos inherent to the story. I’m agnostic about Nic Cage – he doesn’t make or break a film for me – but his performance really worked here, as did that of the ever-capable Joely Richardson. It was delightful to see Q'orianka Kilcher and Tommy Chong in solid supporting roles, as well. Watch this one! Doctor Sleep (2019): This is an adaptation of Stephen King’s sequel to The Shining. It’s not a perfect film, but it’s interesting and visually stunning and packed with able actors. (Five words: Zahn McClarnon as Crow Daddy. I can’t stress this enough.) I’m sure many would find this crazy, but if given the choice right now, I would rather watch Doctor Sleep again than watch The Shining again. So there. In the Tall Grass (2019): Is this the best Stephen King (more accurately, Stephen King and Joe Hill) adaptation ever? No. Did I enjoy every minute spent lost in the grass maze with over-the-top Patrick Wilson? Yes. Yes I did. Your mileage may vary based on your level of Patrick Wilson appreciation. Mine is high. Midsommar (2019): Yes, I know this isn’t an “under the radar” film, but we really loved it, so I wanted to take this opportunity to say so. Ready or Not (2019): Dark comedies are often hit or miss for me, but this newlywed-hunted-by-her-evil-in-laws-in-Satanic-ritual romp is a definite hit, both clever and funny. Vivarium (2019): This science-fiction mind-game of a horror film messed me up and continues to haunt me, and I mean that in the best possible way. I knew nothing about it going into the film, and I think that was for the best. Highly recommended. We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2019): This is a very well crafted adaptation of a novel by Shirley Jackson that I love. I was prepared to be critical, but the film thoroughly won me over with brilliant visuals and performances – Taissa Farmiga and Alexandra Daddario are phenomenal – and a screenplay that emphasizes how relevant this story remains. Read the book first, but then treat yourself to this movie. Delirium (2018): This isn’t a great film, but it keeps the twists and turns coming, and it uses the unreliability of the protagonist’s hallucination-laden point of view to good effect. You really need to suspend your disbelief to swallow the “young man released from twenty years in a mental asylum into house arrest at his dead father’s mansion” premise, but once you’re there, the oppressive isolation and sense of unreality are worth your time. The Wind: Demon of the Prairies (2018): This slow-burn Western plays on the horror and desperation of solitude – especially for settler women – on the frontier. Women’s points of view are highlighted here in a refreshing and chillingly effective way. Lost Child (a.k.a. Tatterdemalion) (2018): We were really enchanted and moved by this work of “hillbilly Gothic” or Ozark folk horror. When a combat veteran returns home with the scars of war on her psyche, she encounters a boy in the woods. Is he a lost child in need of her help, or is he the tatterdemalion of local lore, a demon who wants to feed on her very life? This is a quiet, haunting, compelling story of pain, superstition, and the people who fall through the cracks. Voice from the Stone (2017): This is a classic old-school Gothic film of the “new governess for troubled child after mother’s death” mold, and it delivers all of the lush atmosphere, claustrophobia, and passion needed. This is a beautifully disturbing movie. Kudos to Emilia Clarke for her compelling performance. Bone Tomahawk (2015): Why on Earth did I wait so long to watch this Western horror film? More Patrick Wilson, more Zahn McClarnon, both tremendous pluses. Outstanding Kurt Russell content. Genuinely scary and less gratuitously gory than I’d feared. Lake Mungo (2008): I’m so glad Mike Davis of The Lovecraft eZine recommended this film, which is a “mockumentary” about a family trying to come to turns with the drowning death of the daughter/sister. Are we witnessing how grief yields false hope and makes us vulnerable to charlatans, or is something supernatural taking place? This is a subtle work of slowly-mounting terror. Really delicious. Mike now tells me that if I loved this film, I need to read Disappearance at Devil’s Rock by Paul Tremblay, so I’m going to do that too! Click below for my recommendations from previous years. Read more … View the full post.

(Artwork is “Coven” by Sadist-Ka.) “Why do people go to these places, these places that are not for them? “It must be that they believe in their night vision. They believe themselves able to draw images up out of the dark. “But black wells only yield black water.” ― Helen Oyeyemi, White is for Witching (2009) “These last months, I have learned that the acknowledged history that belongs to the daylight, that is not the only history. Turn over the stone and you will find another history, wriggling to escape.” ― Beth Underdown, The Witchfinder’s Sister (2017) Relevant to both titles above, here is a reading recommendation list from Sublime Horror that’s perfect for the season: “Witches in fiction, a reading list chosen by Professor Marion Gibson.” This is another seasonal reading list from Margaret Kingsbury at BuzzFeed News: “13 Witchy Books That Will Keep You Spellbound.” Last, Erika W. Smith offers these suggestions for Cosmopolitan: “24 Witch Books That Belong on Your Bookshelf.” And here’s one more quote for your day: “And therein lies the most alarming aspect of the Salem witch crisis—if Salem is not aberrant then it cannot be comfortably consigned to the past. Within this slippery historical continuum of behavior, precedent, practice, and response, witchcraft in North American religious and intellectual life becomes less safe to think about. This lack of safety, this persistent reminder of the inhumanity that a small community and its learned and trusted government can show its own members, lingers among us, a threat of what wen could at any time still become.” ― Katherine Howe, The Penguin Book of Witches (2014) View the full post.

For today I have some great lists of Halloween-appropriate reading for younger readers as well as scary-story lovers of all ages. First, from Angie Manfredi: “Shivers & Shudders: Scary Middle Grade Books.” Second, from the Spooky KidLit site (“Celebrating the kids’ books that go bump in the night.”), two lists: “Celebrating Black Authors, Part 1″ and “Celebrating Black Authors, Part 2.” One of the stellar books recommended in two of the lists above is The Forgotten Girl by India Hill Brown (2019), and here’s a haunting little taste: Iris’s nightmares terrified her. Especially the ones when she couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or not. When she was barely awake but not quite asleep, frozen to her bed. Unable to move as monsters crept from the shadows in her room, walking toward her until she squeezed her eyes shut and hastily thought of a prayer. “When that happens, the witch is riding your back,” Daniel’s grandmother Suga would say every time she recounted a dream. “To stop them, you have to put a broom under your bed, so she’ll ride that instead and let you go.” Every one else wrote it off as another one of Suga’s old superstitions, but Iris so wished her parents would let her keep a broom under her bed, at least for one night. Instead, she just slept with a night-light, even though she felt too old for that. Her nightmares were what made her afraid of the dark—well, not exactly afraid. She just didn’t like how unsure the dark was…. You can read a longer excerpt from The Forgotten Girl here. And here’s some great news! The Forgotten Girl is one of four books being adapted for television: “Scholastic Entertainment to Develop ‘JumpScare’ Kids Animated Horror Series With ‘Ben 10’ Team.” View the full post.