Merry, Scary Christmas, 2024

Yes, I do love me some Christmas. When I was growing up in the 1960s and 70s, my family's Christmases were very much in the traditional mode of the times—Santa Claus, presents, family gatherings, serious feasting, and all that good stuff. I come from a long line of very religious folks, and even though I haven't exactly followed in those footsteps, I appreciate the holiday as a celebration of life, love, friendship, and special memories. As the sole remaining member of the family with which I grew up, I have many, many precious memories from Christmases past, and I do pray that, unlike my mom—and others in my family—I'll be able to hang onto those for the rest of my days. But we don't get to choose that kind of thing, so it's one of the reasons I record so many personal memories, thoughts, and reflections in this blog; and while I endeavor to make them relevant, or at least engaging, for those who choose to follow my ramblings, they are more for me than anyone else.

This year, I can't say there haven't been some pretty intense stressors leading up to the winter holidays; numerous factors at work here, but neither Ms. B. nor I have allowed them to overwhelm our joy of the season. And today, our morning together made for a new memory that I am joyfully adding to my carrying case of special memories I hope to retain till the end.

Our house—as at least some of you know—is the house in which I grew up from my second year of life until I left for the wild world out yonder. In our just over a year living here, Brugger and I have made it a melange of the old and the new, combining countless relics and reminders of the best my past offers in equal measure with everything Ms. B. and I have created in our almost fifteen years together. This year in particular, we did up the place with all the spirit we could muster, and when I think about it, that's an awful lot. We watched a host of Christmas or at least Christmas-themed movies and shows during this past week—Die Hard (YES!), A Christmas Horror Story, The Muppet Christmas Carol, and A Charlie Brown Christmas — and I even watched Andy Williams' 1966 Christmas Special on YouTube (which I saw when it originally aired way back when). Last night, we continued our longstanding Christmas Eve tradition of watching A Christmas Story and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. And so it was that we rang in Christmas, 2024!

 

It was a beautiful Christmas Eve and Christmas morning—cold (but not too cold), clear, and, for us, comfy and cozy. It was just the two of us; Allison will probably be here over New Year's, so we'll have a little belated Christmas celebration with her. Last night, for Christmas Eve dinner, we had boeuf bourguignon, which I spent a couple of days preparing (and it was delicious, certainly worth every minute of it). This morning, we exchanged some really, really nice and personally meaningful gifts. Our friend Yvonne stopped by and dropped off some lovely goodies from her and her husband, Bob. And this afternoon, we'll be having Christmas dinner with friend Samaire, her son, and friend Charles.

I'm posting some of my favorite photos from the past few days and nights. To all of you, our best wishes. Scary Christmas, Happy Horrordays, and all that.

New Interview at The Ginger Nuts of Horror

A nice new interview up at The Ginger Nuts of Horror, courtesy of site proprietor Jim McLeod. Stuff about The House at Black Tooth Pond, the writing business in general, and what might be my most embarrassing moment (there were a good many to choose from).

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The Ginger Nuts of Horror Interview with Stephen Mark Rainey

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Geocaching, a Big Woops! & Other Winter Solstice Adventures

Two winter celebrations occupied slots on yesterday's calendar: a late morning/early afternoon Winter Solstice geocaching event at the Red Robin restaurant in Greensboro, and a late afternoon/evening holiday party at friends Terry & Beth's place in Kernersville. With several hours between the two, a geocaching excursion along the Deep River, around Ramseur and Franklinville, about thirty miles south of Greensboro, looked like just the ticket, especially since several new caches had come out, courtesy of friend Fishdownthestairs (a.k.a. Natalie). Rather than drive separately straight to Kernersville in the afternoon, Ms. Brugger opted to accompany me to the geocaching event and then on the hike. Talk about momentous!

The event at Red Robin had a good crowd — about 20 folks, many of whom I'd not seen in a while. Friend Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott) decided he'd meet us on the trail a bit later. Once done at the event, Ms. B. and I drove down to the Deep River Trail and commenced to hiking. Indeed, after a while, Diefenbaker arrived on the scene. The trail is gravel-surfaced and makes for a generally easy trek, though once you go off of it, the terrain can get pretty hairy. Between two legs of the trail, a stream joins the Deep River, and there's no actual crossing there — just an array of old pylons that present more of an impediment than an aid to getting from one side to the other. Scott and I found a partially exposed log near the pylons that allowed for a somewhat precarious crossing, but we made it without mishap. Ms. B. didn't care to follow in our footsteps, so she remained on higher ground on her side of the river.

However—uh-oh!—she took one step too far on the muddy bank and—whoosh!—down she went. Not all the way into the water, but pretty damned close. Worst of all, the bank was steep, the mud slipperier than ice. It took her a hell of an effort to get back to the top. And since this was an unexpected mishap, she had brought no spare clothes. Gracious! Fortunately, friend Beth, whom she immediately called, had plenty of clothing she was happy to offer on loan once we arrived.

On our return trek, Scott and I found a much dryer though potentially hazardous river crossing — a fallen tree about 15 above the water. We decided to brave it, and since I'm here to write this blog, as far as I can tell, we made it safely across.

On our return trip to the car, we ran into friend Tom (a.k.a. Night-Hawk), whom we'd seen at the Greensboro event, having trouble finding one of the caches. Happily, we were able to help him. Then Kim and I departed for Kernersville, where she was finally able to change into some cleaner, drier clothes.

The party was fun, with many friends, good eats, and some of the best wine I've enjoyed in ages. All in all, fine day indeed.

Caution! Winos present!

FREE FICTION: “Somewhere, My Love”

OK, I figured it's time I offered y'all a free story. It's “Somewhere, My Love,” which, as near as I can judge, is one of my best-regarded tales. It's been reprinted a handful of times, most recently in Fugue Devil: Resurgence (Black Raven Books, 2022). If you haven't read the story before, give it a look. Hey, it's free! You can get it as an EPUB or PDF file by clicking the link below.

“Somewhere, My Love” originally appeared in Barnes & Noble´s 100 Wicked Witch Stories (1995), and has been reprinted a few times since. Back at the office where I used to work, we always had enjoyable Halloween celebrations, and I usually read one of my stories to the crew there. This one convinced a few of them that the author might actually possess at least a reasonable facsimile, even if it was defective, of an almost-human heart. The story is kind of an autobiographical account of events that never happened, but the characters and emotions portrayed in narrative are very much based in reality.

Hope you enjoy the tale!

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PDF or EPUB file of “Somewhere, My Love”
by Stephen Mark Rainey

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EARLY KAIJU FANDOM, VOLUME THREE Is in the House

Last year, writer/editor/kaiju fan Bradford Grant Boyle put together an omnibus of the fanzines he had published in the 1970s, titled Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume One. A great big book, it included reproductions of the original pages of his projects, including issue #s 2, 3, and 4 of Japanese Giants, the fanzine I created in 1974 and that he took over in 1975. He published Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume Two a few months ago, which included several fanzines he published that predated JG. And now, Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume Three is in the house, with reproductions of essentially all the rest of the 1970s/80s-era kaiju-themed fanzines, including JG issue #1, and a foreword by the Old Dude. Excerpt as follows:

“As far back as early childhood and as recently as just now, anyone who’s made my acquaintance, even briefly, would know me as a diehard daikaiju nut. I caught both Godzilla – King of the Monsters (1956) and Gigantis – The Fire Monster (a.k.a. Godzilla Raids Again, 1959) when I was around kindergarten age, and if ever a kid were smitten with city-stomping monsters, that kid was me. I was already keen on dinosaurs, and Godzilla elevated my fondness for oversized reptilian critters to a whole new level.”

These volumes by Mr. Boyle are the culmination of countless hours of tracking down copies of literally every page of every fanzine from those glory days (excepting Greg Shoemaker’s Japanese Fantasy Film Journal, which kicked off this whole shebang and will be featured in yet another volume), and compiling them in a series of high-quality publications. In addition to Japanese Giants #1, the fanzines in this one include Richard Campbell’s Godzilla Mania, Barry Kaufman’s Monsters of Japan, Damon Foster’s Japanese Movie Sci-Fi, and Mike Martin’s Giants From Japan. Granted, after so many years, some of the old pages were in a condition barely fit to read, and the reproductions reflect that fact — not to mention that many of the original page designs scarcely reached the level of “crude.” But for those of us who were active in those days (and whose devotion to all things kaiju continues to this day), these volumes represent a most welcome labor of love on Mr. Boyle's part. To be sure, this endeavor isn't one to make anyone rich, but to their target audience, the contents of these are enriching beyond words.

Misty Morning Ramble

Every day, usually early morning, I go on a several-mile walk, typically around our neighborhood, which offers plenty of nice scenery (especially around Lake Lanier) and (gasp) many serious hills. Since last January, I haven't missed a day of putting in at least two and a half miles, usually more like three to five miles. After forty years of working a desk job with only occasional bouts of serious exercise (usually while geocaching on weekends), since I retired, I've decided not to settle for a sedentary lifestyle and suffer the likely attendant health complications. The exercise has done wonders for my blood sugar, cholesterol, blood pressure (though this past election has hiked it back up higher than it oughta be), and all that good stuff.

It wasn't very cold this morning, but the misty precipitation made it a bit damp. Still, there was a nice atmosphere out there — almost eerie — which I augmented by playing some mellow, Hearts-of-Space-type music along the way. It's supposed to turn into real rain tomorrow, which may mean I'll be hoofing it around the house most of the day. It's nowhere near as enjoyable as the out of doors, but I've had to do it plenty of times. The biggest challenge is avoiding tripping over cats.

Happy trails.

High Above Rocky Mount and Stuck by Stickers

Several years ago, Ms. B. and I had climbed a huge, rock-crowned ridge in Rocky Mount, VA, to hunt for a geocache. It's a cool location, with panoramic views of the area, and the rocks are all covered with flat, low-growing cactus. On that first trip up there, I found the cache, but it was archived at some point afterward.

Looking down the slope from GZ

This past year, a different geocacher placed a new cache up there, but it had only been found a time or two before it went missing. Friend Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott) and I had ventured up there to hunt it, but by then, it was already gone. Happily, the cache was recently replaced, so I decided to drive up to Rocky Mount again this morning to give it another look-see.

The ridge is very steep and slick with dead leaves, so getting up to ground zero made for a fair physical challenge. Then, once I reached the top, I inadvertently stuck my hand into a cluster of cactus, so I've been trying to extract thousands of little piss-ant cactus needles for the past several hours, and in some cases, it has been an exercise in futility. To be sure, ground zero is a target-rich area, with countless clusters of rocks, trees, logs, nooks, crannies, etc., that might hide a geocache — especially a pill bottle, like this one.

I was up there hunting for so long, I eventually reached out to the cache hiders for a hint. Even once they provided one, it took me a long time to find the thing. The coordinates are pretty far off, so I shot some new ones and posted them with my log for the benefit of future hunters. Anyway, at long last, mission accomplished.

Afterward, I found lunch at the nearby Rocky Mount Smokehouse — a fairly decent pulled pork sandwich with deep-fried corn on the cob on the side, which was interesting enough. Then I cruised over to nearby Ferrum, my old alma mater, where I roamed about for a while before heading back home.

Now, if I could just get the last coupla thousand cactus needles out of my hand....

Close to the edge

A target-rich location

High above the town of Rocky Mount, VA

5-Star Advance Review of The House at Black Tooth Pond at Hellnotes

The first advance review of The House at Black Tooth Pond, due in February from Crossroad Press, is up at Hellnotes. Five stars from reviewer Carson Buckingham!

"I read The House at Black Tooth Pond in one sitting — it was that exciting and that frightening. Think of a traditional haunted house story but on LSD..."

Read the full review here.

The ebook and paperback editions are now up for pre-order. The audiobook, narrated by Joshua Saxon, will be released in February as well.

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Preorder The House at Black Tooth Pond here.

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