The Editor Known as Mr. Deathrealm. Author of BLUE DEVIL ISLAND, THE NIGHTMARE FRONTIER, THE LEBO COVEN, DARK SHADOWS: DREAMS OF THE DARK (with Elizabeth Massie), BALAK, YOUNG BLOOD (with Mat & Myron Smith), et. al. Feed at your own risk.
Showing posts with label Bill Gudmundson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Gudmundson. Show all posts
Many, if not most, of the folks who visit my blog might remember that I
first dove into the publishing arena with Japanese Giants, a fanzine I created when I was in ninth grade — Spring 1974, to be precise.
It was an 18-page, offset-printed love letter to giant Japanese monsters,
featuring part one of a Destroy All Monsters filmbook, reviews
of the TV shows Ultraman and
Johnny Sokko & His Flying Robot, a couple of editorials, and a bunch of art that several of my friends and I
drew for the issue. Inspired by my good friend Greg Shoemaker's renowned
Japanese Fantasy Film Journal, I hoped that Japanese Giants might go on to become prominent
in the fanzine landscape of the mid-1970s. And it actually did, though not
quite in the way I had foreseen.
I sold a good number of the 200 printed copies of issue #1, but it wasn't
enough to cover the full cost of producing it, and my allowance in those days
couldn't quite make up the remainder. I sadly resolved to pack it in, but more
or less out of the blue, a young gentleman named Brad Boyle from Salt
Lake City, Utah, stepped in and offered to take the
Japanese Giants torch and run with it. He produced issue #s 2,
3, and 4 before he, too, let go of the reins. By this time, I had become
friends with diehard daikaiju fans Ed Godziszewski and
Bill Gudmundson, who thought that, as a trio, we should keep
JG going. Ed was a few years older than Bill and me, and he had
a real job with substantial disposable income. So, the three of us became the
official Japanese Giants Guys, and the magazine continued — the last
few issues under Ed's sole editorship — until issue #10.
Here are
the covers of the full set of issues. Note that issue #8 — possibly the rarest
of them — sold out quickly, and I have no idea whatever happened to my copy.
What you are looking at gentlemen, is the cover of issue #8, as science has
been able to reconstruct it for you...
Issue #1 Issue #2
Issue #3 Issue #4
Issue #5 Issue #6
Issue #7 Issue #8
Issue #9 Issue #10
Here are a few links to sites with info and images from and about
Japanese Giants:
Back in high school, inspired by my love of miniature sets in the monster
movies of the day, I constructed a model city of cardboard and miscellaneous
scrap material on a roughly 3' x 4' section of drywall. I made all kinds of
buildings, tiny cars, telephone poles (out of broom straw), electrical towers
(also of broom straw), road signs...all manner of details in tiny scale. I
owned a few custom-made monster figures — Godzilla, Rodan,
Angilas, and Damiron (a critter from one of my early short
stories, titled "Night of the Firebeast") made by my friend
Bill Gudmundson, and the city made a great display setting. At one
point, I caught a large praying mantis, which I set loose in the miniature
streets. It seems like I took some photos at the time, but if I did, they are
apparently long gone.
For my age and skill level, the mini metropolis was a reasonably accomplished
effort, but it wasn't long before I found it wanting. So I set it on fire.
That part was fun, and I decided that, someday, I'd devote time and energy to
constructing a new, far superior miniature city.
Well, it didn't happen right away. Almost twenty years later — 1992, to
be exact — during an extended hiatus for Deathrealm magazine (a
result of being laid off from my job), I found myself with more time than
money. So, between job hunting and writing fiction (I also wrote my first
novel,
Balak, during that period), I set to work constructing a new miniature city. This
one was smaller than the original — I built it on a 2.5-foot square of heavy
cardboard — but considerably more elaborate. I planned it meticulously,
designed fairly complex buildings, many with semi-detailed interiors visible
through windows made of acetate sheets. There were tiny cars, trucks, parking
meters, traffic lights, even wires strung from the myriad broom straw power
poles. I used many of the same type of materials as the original little city —
cardboard, bristol board, broom straw, plaster of Paris, faux foliage from
hobby shops... any kind of scrap I could turn into miniature city features. I spent most of year on the project. And looking back, it turned out to be a pretty fair piece of work. I displayed it
proudly for a long, long time — often with one or more daikaiju figures
towering over its streets and buildings.
Over the years, though, the delicate structures began to deteriorate. Roofs
occasionally collapsed, walls came apart, signs fell... and layers of dust
accumulated two cars deep in places. It truly looked like the setting of some
low-budget post-apocalyptic film.
And now, with Brugger moving in, space at a premium, and massive remodeling
happening at Casa de Rodan, it just seemed like the old city had gone too far
past its prime. So, last night, after a long bout with making room for new
flooring throughout the house, Brugger and I took the old thing out back and
set the match to it.
I have to admit it was kind of tough letting go, considering how much time, effort, and
creativity I had put into it, but at least there are pics. And the conflagration is
documented on video. Here it is in all its fiery splendor.