Thursday, March 28, 2024

R.I.P. James A. (Jim) Moore

The last time I saw Jim Moore — Necon 2022 in Lowell, MA
I learned yesterday that friend and fellow writer James A. (Jim) Moore has passed away. He'd been fighting and winning over cancer for several years, but now his fight has ended. Jim was one of the most beloved writers—and human beings in general—I've ever known and for excellent reason. Jim was a man of great humor, commitment to friends, and exceptional generosity. I didn't know him half as well as so many of my peers; I only ever got to see him at conventions, and I haven't been a regular con-goer for a long time. Still, I found a lot of joy in hanging out with him when circumstances permitted, and I've admired him since the day I met him. I'm far from the most qualified to write a fitting tribute to him, so I'll suffice to say that, Brother Jim, you've always had and always will have a special place in my heart. Godspeed.

Monday, March 25, 2024

O Ugly Bird


Well, here's something I don't get to do every day. A little while ago, I saw down by the creek across the road a turkey vulture hung up in something, struggling to get free. I grabbed my machete and folding knife, went down there to check it out, and found that the bird's legs and one wing were tangled in fishing line, which was dangling from a tree. About then, Dr. Joe Keiper, who works at the Virginia Museum of Natural History here in town, happened to be driving by, so he came down and, with a forked stick, was able to keep the bird pinned so I could cut the fishing line. The critter was pretty well exhausted, I think, so it lay there calmly as we worked. Together, we managed to get all the fishing line untangled and removed. Birdo flies off like nothing ever happened.

Damned ugly fellow (the bird, not Joe), but I'm very glad things ended well enough for it.

Sunday, March 24, 2024

Caching King

Friend Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker) and I met for a day of geocaching in King, NC, this morning, hunted and found a bunch of fun ones. Also didn't find a couple. My favorite was one I went after that was down in a culvert under a country road. Haven't done a culvert cache in quite a while, and this one was a lot of fun — and very wet after the rains we've had. It's an oldie ("Mountain Stream Cache," GC39HZW), placed in 2011, and it looks like the container and log are the originals. Nice.

There was a neat little cache called "The Enigma of King" (GCAEAH8), which is a wooden puzzle box. I'd found one like it several years ago, but I needed a video refresher to get this one open. Also a fun one.

Scott and I found lunch at a little Thai place — Amazing Thailand — which we'd visited on earlier King trips. If not altogether amazing, the food was good.

So, finally, a caching day with me a great caching partner from the good ol' Greensboro days. There will be more, and soon, I hope.
Found the cache.
The Enigma of King
Pilot Mountain in the distance

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Musings in the Night

Maybe it's just me, but after damn near 40 years on the creative end of the horror/dark fiction lit business, it feels like people and projects are imploding at a rate and intensity I've never seen before. Going back several months, I'd say. If you know what I'm talking about, you know; whether you do or don't, the only thing I'll say is that, in my experience, integrity will serve you well, and in this day of instant sharing of information, the lack of integrity can have dire, real-world consequences for the individual as well as those in that person's sphere of influence.

We're all flawed, and we all fail. Compassion is rare. I consider empathy a priceless trait, but sometimes it's hard to hold onto. If I have any regrets in this life, they're over having hurt others. I'm not even entirely sure what my intent here is, other than to urge people in my sphere of influence to be cognizant of the role of integrity in your relationships, whether business, personal, or whatever. Seeing so much drama, hurt, turmoil, and disappointment — particularly among people I've known and respected for a long time — is not easy. Not for me, not for any of us who have devoted so much energy, creativity, time, and loyalty to a field we love.

Forgive my rambling. It was only one scotch. But these feelings are genuine, and I expect at least some of you will get it.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Smith Mountain Lake Adventures


It's been a pretty good while since I've headed out on a solo geocaching adventure, and since today's weather looked about as perfect as perfect gets for such a thing, I set out for Smith Mountain Lake State Park, about an hour north of home. Several years ago, Ms. B. and I picnicked, hiked, cached, and generally made merry at the park, and I haven't been back since.

On the way, I stopped to go after an Adventure Lab cache at the Booker T. Washington National Monument park, which Brugger and I had also visited for some gecoaching back in the dark ages. It's a lovely location, its story both sad and uplifting, and I'm glad to see the park so well maintained. My favorite moment was walking past a pig pen, where a big old pig was lounging in some mud. I said, "Hallo, Pig!" and the pig raised its head and gave me a big loud snort in response. After that... alas... it appeared to have no further interest in conversing.

Once at the lake, I set out hiking, grabbed caches, and discovered several of the most difficult paths I could have ever taken to get from Point A to Point B. Bear in mind, I do this very reliably, hence my perpetual admonition to any fellow hikers to follow me at their own risk. Some of the wiser ones, such as friends Scott and Natalie, have taken this advice to heart and almost always go their own ways when we come to challenging terrain. Oh, ye of little faith!
 
Once I snagged all the caches I needed this go-round at the park (which means I've completed all the active caches currently in the park), I stopped for a late lunch at a little pizzeria/bar & grill called Alessandro's, not far from the lake. A decent burger, and great service. To finish out the caching day, I hit the little burg of Moneta, just a few miles away, and knocked out all the caches there (five of them).
 
To head home, I threaded my way down every little back road between Smith Mountain Lake and Martinsville. Very scenic, though to be out in the middle of nowhere, there sure was a lot traffic, made worse by numerous very poor drivers who could have gone twice their velocity and still come up shy of the speed limit. People, you are harshing my mellow. Otherwise, though, a lovely day of it.

Damn right, I'll take it. The way I see it, mellow days are to be treasured.
My loquacious pig friend at the Booker T. Washington National Monument park
Some Country for Old Men
Ancient wall along one of the lake trails

A couple of friends found along the way
Dammit, I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque!

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Extending the Dick & Willie


I shit you not, the Dick & Willie has gotten longer. Yes, about two decades ago, the old Danville & Western rail line — commonly known as the "Dick & Willie Line" — closed down, and the tracks through a fair portion of Martinsville were converted to the Dick & Willie Rail Trail. For several years, we had a continuous 4.5-mile section of trail completed, but three or four years ago, a new, 2.5-mile section opened up at the eastern end of town, terminating at the Smith River Sports Center on Spruce Street. That has left approximately four miles of trail to be completed, thus connecting the two ends. As of just a few weeks ago, a new, 2-mile leg along Mulberry Creek opened up, which Ms. B. and I hiked out today, and it is by far the most scenic, relatively isolated part of the trail. Eventually, it is slated to extend even farther from the current northwestern terminus at Commonwealth Boulevard & Virginia Avenue and connect with the Fieldale-Smith River Trail, a few miles to the northeast.

It goes without saying that I have already populated with local trails with numerous geocaches, but the new D & W extension certainly begs for several more. I plan to oblige, more likely sooner than later. As it is, I discovered today that I need to perform maintenance on a couple of my older caches out there, so that will be my next geocaching priority.

We encountered several folks today riding e-bikes on the trail, and the lure to avail ourselves to such devices is strong. Perhaps once Ms. B. is again gainfully employed, we'll set us ourselves up with a couple.

For now, hike on!

Sunday, March 3, 2024

Speakeasy on Starling


Friends Bob & Yvonne accompanied Brugger and me to a unique and entertaining event last night at the Virginia Museum of Natural History — "Speakeasy on Starling" it was called ("Starling" referring to the street address of the Museum). This was a fun, fund-raising event for which you really got your money's worth — heavy hors d'oeuvres (good ones, too!), beer, wine, and other spirits, including a bourbon and mojito tasting. Some damn good bourbons on hand, I must admit. The tasting quantities were small, but they packed a pretty good wallop. A silent auction of some particularly nice spirits (none of us won) and a Velociraptor egg hunt, which netted everyone a nice little prize (a Long Island Iced Tea for me), added to the fun. Most entertaining was that, in order to learn the whereabouts of the bourbon tasting, you had to follow clues around the museum and then be escorted to it by staff member/journalist/friend Ben R. Williams. I also encountered a couple of old friends from days long past in the old hometown.

Afterward, our gang retired to Ground Zero, where we enjoyed some rocking tunes and sampled a few more spirits. I'd love to see the museum make this a regular event. It was a touch of what we figure some much-needed culture in our little burg. Plus, that museum is full of dinosaurs. I figure you can't go too far wrong with spirits and dinosaurs.

The password was "Claws," by the way.
A velociraptor photobombing the group making their way to the bourbon tasting

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Distant Early Warning Alert:
Scares That Care Presents AuthorCon III!

It's coming up on the horizon — Scares That Care Presents AuthorCon 3 — happening at the Doubletree by Hilton Hotel Williamsburg, April 12–14, 2024. It's one of the best gatherings of horror/fantasy/science-fiction authors and fans on the planet, and I'll be there at the Crossroad Press table in the hotel's Promenade area, with plenty of copies of Fugue Devil: Resurgence, Deathrealm: Spirits, Blue Devil Island, my various Ameri-Scares titles, and many others on hand.

AuthorCon 3 includes hundreds of authors, a massive dealers' room, and top-notch programming. This year's guests of honor are Carver Pike, Aron Beauregard, Daniel J. Volpe, Kristopher Rufty, Eric LaRocca, Grady Hendrix, Paul Tremblay, John Langan, Valancourt Books, Michael Cisco, L. Marie Wood, Bryan Smith, Clay McLeod Chapman, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Chesya Burke, and R.J. Benetti.

Hope to see you there.


Monday, February 26, 2024

It's Just Overkill

After my morning walk, I planned to spend the rest of the day writing. I ended up taking a much longer walk than usual, and when I got home, it was lunchtime. So, I decided to build a fire in the fire pit and cook a couple of hot dogs for lunch. They were yummy. But while out there, I realized the yard needed some serious work, and... before I knew what had happened... I found myself doing serious yard work.

After that, my arms fell off, but I've still gotta write. I hope my laptop takes good dictation.

Sunday, February 18, 2024

The Smith River, a Haunted Island, and the Spooky Place


Almost every day, I walk somewhere between three and four miles around our neighborhood, which has done wonders for my physical and mental health. This afternoon, Ms. B. and I decided to go walking out on the Fieldale-Smith River Trail, which is my favorite of the trails in this area. In 2009 and 2010, I loaded up a mile-plus length of the trail with geocaches, and they're all still active. Yesterday, in fact, a group of geocachers found them all. Just for good measure, I decided to give each of the caches a physical check-up, and I was pleased to find them in decent condition. One of them (called "Haunted Island") involves a little tree climbing, and since that's one of my favorite physical activities, up I went (the view in the photo to the left is actually from up in the tree). I even managed to get back down.

My favorite of the trail's attractions is the view of the old Koehler Warehouse across the river on Route 57, which I've always called "The Spooky Place" because it was the site of the Martinsville Jaycees' infamous Halloween Haunted Castle when I was a teenager and a bit beyond. For a couple of tales of my sordid adventures in the Haunted Castle, you may visit my article at the Horror Writers Association Blog here. Don't be afeared... much.
A view of the Spooky Place without the spooky people in the way
A view of the Smith River from the trail
Tree damage!
A happy little community of mushrooms Ms. B. discovered

Thursday, February 15, 2024

Happy, Horrific Valentine’s Day and Damned Rodan’s Madre de Dios Spiked Salsa

While St. Valentine's Day might be a real "thing" in certain religious circles, neither Ms. B. nor I see it as much more than a typical "Hallmark Holiday." Still, we love having a handy excuse to get a little fancy, go out for dinner, and drink wine, that kind of thing. So, every year, Brugger gives me one of her beautiful hand-made Valentine's Day cards, we get a little fancy, go out for dinner, and drink wine, that kind of thing. Last night, we treated ourselves to Rania's uptown, which is our go-to restaurant in Martinsville when we're looking for something that resembles upscale. Their food is usually excellent, and it definitely hit the spot last night. A bottle of Chateau Ste Michelle Cabernet Sauvignon (2018 vintage), which was decent; Veal Scallopini for me; and Baked Ziti with Meatballs for Ms. B. The place does have a lovely atmosphere as well.

This weekend, friends Joe and Suzy are hosting a gathering where folks bring their own homemade salsa, so I spent a portion of the afternoon conjuring up Damned Rodan's Madre de Dios Spiked Salsa, which gets its heat from a combination of cayenne, jalapeno, habanero, and ghost pepper in the ingredients. I'd post the recipe if I had one, but for this, I just gathered all the stuff that one puts into fresh salsa (Campari tomatoes, onion, green onions, cilantro, lime juice, garlic, cumin, chili powder, lemon pepper, and the various peppers; chopped everything up; and threw it together in what looked like reasonable proportions. I hit the mix with our immersion blender and... voilà! Damned Rodan's Madre de Dios Spiked Salsa. The heat is not trivial, but the stuff is fookin delicious. Needless to say, I'll probably never be able to duplicate it precisely.

Spent a portion of the afternoon on the Lovecraft eZine Podcast with host Mike Davis and author Jeff Thomas, which was a blast. I hope to be meeting them both face-to-face for the first time in August at Necronomicon in Providence, RI. And I managed a fair amount of forward progress on my current novel, The House at Black Tooth Pond.

Till whenever...

L: Brugger's homemade 2024 Valentine's Day card for the Old Dude; R: Damned Rodan's homemade
Madre de Dios Spiked Salsa

Sunday, February 11, 2024

DEATHREALM: SPIRITS at Lovecraft eZine!

Lovecraft eZine proprietor Mike Davis was kind enough to have me, authors Tony Tremblay and David Niall Wilson, and Shortwave Publishing's Alan Lastufka — on his weekly podcast to talk about Deathrealm: Spirits and the work within. It was a fun hour and a half, full of cosmic horror, harrowing adventure, and daredevil stunts. Plus, a nice bunch of memories of the legendary Brian Lumley, who passed away last month. Tune in!

Thursday, February 8, 2024

Number 1 and Driving High

What a day. What a freaking day. A mixture of the best and the worst rolled into one. It began last night when friend Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker) came up from Asheboro to spend the night so we could head northward today to do some serious geocaching. My daughter, Allison, also paid us a visit, and we had an excellent sushi dinner at Yamato. Afterward, we sat up fairly late with various drinks to keep us occupied until bedtime.

Up and at 'em early this morning. Allison and I made breakfast—she made her special scrambled eggs and I cooked up my Damned Rodan's Crematorium-Style Bacon. Then Scott and I hit the road for Rocky Mount and Boones Mill, thirty-some miles up the road toward Roanoke. We found several enjoyable caches, a couple of which took us out on the highest, narrowest, windiest, scariest fooken mountain road I have ever driven. You know those videos of single-lane roads along cliffs, with sheer drop-offs on one side and a high vertical wall on the other? This was kind of like that. Thanks be to Yog Sothoth no vehicles came from the other direction because I fear that might have been all she wrote for us.

At the end of the scary mountain road, we had the pleasure of meeting fellow geocacher, Varunner7, since she and her husband had placed a cache on their property. A very pleasant caching conversation followed, and after a while, off we went again, back toward Rocky Mount. We found lunch at a lovely BBQ joint called the Rocky Mount Smokehouse, where Scott and I both ordered brisket. We found it delightful.
Fun sign in the bathroom at the smokehouse

Several years ago, Brugger and I had gone after a cache on a huge, steep ridge on the outskirts of Rocky Mount. That cache has been long since archived, and a newer one took its place relatively recently. Since it was very close to the restaurant, Scott and I trekked up that remarkably steep incline and finally hit the summit. It's rocky as hell and covered with cactus, which isn't something you typically see around these parts. I indulged in all kinds of acrobatics in precarious settings as I set about hunting the cache—something I haven't been able to do much recently—but after a serious amount of time, we came up empty. Based on some intel we received from Ms. Varunner7, we concluded that the damned thing has already gone missing. Drat and alas.

Also in the "good shit" column, I received hopeful news about one of my recent short stories from a publisher (which I'll remark upon later, when the word is given), and, thanks to the big Bookbub promotion, which I detailed yesterday, Deathrealm: Spirits reached number 1 in sales on Amazon.com in three categories: horror anthologies (Kindle), horror anthologies (books), and fiction anthologies. It held onto that position for a full 24 hours, which is a fair achievement. It slipped a few notches for a couple of hours this evening, but then it climbed back into the lead positions.

It's the little things that make one smile, wouldn't you say?

In the "bad shit" column, which does not make me smile, Ms. B. got laid off from her job of 21 years, ignominiously and with a piss-poor severance deal. Out of respect for Kim—certainly not for the company, which gets absolutely none from me—I'll elaborate only a little. I hope this will prove a blessing in disguise, as leaving one position behind for another sometimes does. I feel horrible for her, though, because she loved that job and gave everything to it that she had to give. That she was shown no more appreciation and consideration than she was is disgraceful (note that this applies only to the parent company, not the wonderful local bunch that we both worked with for many, many years). Needless to say, this puts us in a bigger financial and logistical bind than we'd been prepared to deal with. Still, we're in a better place than many in similar circumstances, so I suppose there's that.

Anyway, tomorrow will bring what it's gonna bring, and we'll give it what for.
Looking down at Rocky Mount from "Rocky Top"
You might have to look carefully, but many of the rocks are covered in little cactus plants
One of the crevices I explored along the cliff face
Old Dude at "Rocky Top" on Christmas Day, 2011, photo by Ms. B.

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

DEATHREALM: SPIRITS Bookbub Deal!

From Bookbub...
With terrifying tales from Bram Stoker Award–winning authors Brian Keene, Elizabeth Massie, Joe R. Lansdale, and other masters of the genre, this recently released anthology is filled with unsettling horrors that will keep you anxiously turning pages…
 
Publisher Description
Deathrealm: Spirits is a horror anthology, edited by Stephen Mark Rainey, featuring new stories from genre legends Joe R. Lansdale, Elizabeth Massie, Brian Keene, Eric LaRocca, and many others.

This is the first anthology of new Deathrealm stories since the original magazine ceased publication in 1997. Once called one of the most important horror lit magazines being published at the time by acclaimed editor, Ellen Datlow, Deathrealm presented a wide variety of dark fiction.

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Pre-Dawn Muggle Madness and More

Since Ms. B.'s folks have reached that age where they need a bit more help from time to time, she heads to Michigan regularly to visit them. Sometimes I go along too, but this week, she made it a solo trip. Her flight out from Greensboro was at 6:00 a.m. yesterday morning, so we had to get ourselves up at 3:30 a.m. to hit the road by 4:00 a.m. We made it to the airport just before 5:00 a.m., and rather than turn right around and drive home, I decided to head eastward from Greensboro and snag a handful of geocaches.

My first stop was Burlington, a few miles east of Greensboro, where there is a newish Wherigo cache, courtesy of friend Ranger Fox. Despite the 25º-degree temp, I hoped  I might make my way through the stages without becoming an icicle. But after fifteen minutes, I still had a pretty good way to go, and even though I was reasonably bundled up, the chill and the brisk breeze convinced me that trying again at a later (warmer) time might be more prudent.

However, stopping here offered me yet another chance to experience the single-most inevitable geocaching experience of geocaching experiences: the fooking muggle sitting in his fooking car. At 5:15 in the fooking a.m., a muggle (one of the non-geocaching persuasion) drives into this otherwise totally deserted parking lot, parks his fooking vehicle, and proceeds to fooking sit while I'm going from stage to stage. It never fails when there is an otherwise totally deserted parking, does it? In this case, not necessarily a complication, since muggles will be present at this location on a regular basis. However, under these circumstances, it just reinforces the notion that there is no empty parking lot into which a muggle won't insinuate himself at precisely the wrong time. Go fooking figure.

From there, I headed farther east and snagged a handful of caches. My favorite was one in the woods along the Eno River, just east of Efland, NC. A lovely location just downriver from a dam, which was visible in the distance from the cache site. So despite the pre-dawn muggle madness, I enjoyed myself no end.

A now a week of bachelorhood, writing, and, hopefully, more geocaching.
Sunrise is imminent...

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Hellnotes Reviews Fugue Devil: Resurgence

Hellnotes reviewer Carson Buckingham gives Fugue Devil: Resurgence a big thumbs-up! A lovely review indeed.

"This collection from Stephen Mark Rainey is among the best ones I’ve read. Each story is a shining gem and if you enjoy Lovecraftian horror, there is much that will please you here...
5 stars—Highly recommended. Buy one for yourself and one for a friend."

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Bad Behavior

Why not? I'm gonna step right up and post my thoughts sparked by the latest of the endless social media explosions because, for me, these go beyond just the immediate cases.

I dip into the social media pool fairly frequently, but I don't live on social media. I don't always see the latest kerfuffle in the literary world at the moment it happens, or block the latest persona non grata as fast as some people would like ("You need to do better!" [to be fair, not directed specifically at me, but apparently to those whose fingers don't perpetually hover on the block button]), especially when said PNG's page doesn't reveal diddly about what he or she might have done. At the risk of sounding defensive — not that I'm gonna apologize for handling my social media presence as I see fit — I use almost all my waking hours writing, editing, hiking, working at being a good husband, or doing something personally productive with my time and energy (why, yes, I am that self-centered); dealing with the perpetual weirdness of social media, while important in many ways, tends to be a lower priority.

That said, I do appreciate finding out that, yes, I should be aware of certain goings-on with so-and-so, and I'll weigh that info on its merits and act as I see fit. But I don't do that on your timetable, Mrs. Kravitz.*

Now, no one has come after me personally, but some of the vehemence among commenters I've seen implies guilt by association if you haven't jumped on the bandwagon fast enough for their liking. Transferring anger from the offender to the otherwise uninvolved does kind of chap my ass.

All that said, YES, OF COURSE, I condemn the behavior of Mr. JD Barker. He was on my friends' list, not that I can recall ever interacting with him. I hope that my own conduct online and in-person would never suggest tacit approval of deplorable behavior.

*It occurs to me that, for the younger set, you might wanna look up Bewitched.

Monday, January 22, 2024

One Guess Less


I saw in my online "memories" post that pops up daily that, on this day in 2012, I found the geocache called "The Curse of Samarra Morgan" (GC1QF2B), which, in the photo at left, you can see me about to dive after it. It was located not far out of Chapel Hill, NC (and there was a lovely little graveyard nearby, which might have been handy should the worst happen at the cache site). Then it occurred to me that I've been geocaching for sixteen years this month; I found my first cache ("Groundhog Lane," now long-archived) on January 12, 2008. I'm still hard at it on a regular basis—pretty much the same geo-addict I've been ever since Day One—although I can't get out after them as much as when we lived in North Carolina, simply because there are far fewer caches in this part of Virginia to hunt. That's kind of a bummer, but since I've placed a large number around here, I visit many of them frequently to keep them well-maintained for other hunters.
 
This morning, on my regular daily walk, I decided to head down to the former site of one of my old geocaches, along the Smith River a couple of miles from my house. Sadly, the host of that cache, called "One Guess," is no longer tenable for a geocache (and that area is not as readily accessible as it used to be should one be driving in from some other area). The cache was up in a big sycamore, and to say that tree has seen better days is an understatement. I've always enjoyed hunting more "extreme" geocaches, and I've hidden a good many that can challenge highly experienced cachers. There were once very few caches to which I could say "no," but I will admit that, nowadays, I'm not quite as physically able to handle certain terrain types—such as culverts and storm drains and such into which I'd have to crawl. Crawling and my knees and hips no longer get along very well.

Mind you, I can still climb some trees. I love me some trees. And another cache in the same vein as "The Curse of Samara Morgan"? Bring it on!
Left: The site of "One Guess," on the day I placed it in February 2012; photo by Ms. B. Right: The same tree, photo taken this morning (from the opposite angle). Notice that one whole trunk has gone missing, which was where the cache originally lurked. One Guess less...

View of the Smith River from the old cache site