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.
Next weekend!
Scares That Care AuthorCon II, (March 31–April 2) at the DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel
Williamsburg (50 Kingsmill Road, Williamsburg, VA 23185). I’ll have the
pictured titles and more for sale — and you know I’m always happy to devalue
any and all of my books with an autograph. Brugger will be on hand to keep me
straight and charm the crowds.
On Saturday, I’ll be sharing a reading slot with Ronald Kelly (most
likely “Night Crier,” originally published in
34Orchard magazine), and participating on a panel (“Golden Years,” a look at the horror
heydays of the 1980s and 90s — yes, I am old).
The first issue of 34 Orchard, a new, online literary magazine edited by Kristi Petersen Schoonover, has just gone live. It features my story, "Night Crier," which is what I call an autobiographical account of events that never happened. This one explores a concept I found particularly challenging to commit to a work of fiction, and I hope I rose to the task. Here's a snippet for you:
His mother’s dull gray eyes were focused inward, her smile wistful. After some long reflection, she looked up at him from her bed.
“I remember when you were little, you were always scared on Halloween. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“It didn’t seem to be the trick-or-treaters or the decorations. It was something else. I never really understood it. Did you?”
“I can’t say I did. It was just a kid thing, I guess.”
“You always were a good son. You’re still a good son, and I thank you for all your care.”
“I try my best.”
“Tell me your name again.”
“It’s Bill, Mom.”
“I’m so sorry. I know I repeat myself.”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s frustrating not to remember.” She looked into the mirror atop the dresser at the far end of the bed, her face beaming, as if memories of every wonderful thing in her life had come rushing back. That would be too much to hope for. Mom was just a shell, a poorly drawn caricature of the loving, intelligent woman she had always been. Her disease was killing him.
“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s lonely when you’re not. Sometimes I’m afraid.”
“You don’t need to be afraid, Mom. When I’m not here, you have good nurses staying with you.”
“I don’t remember them.” She stared into the distance before looking back at him. “What was your name again?”
“Bill.”
“Oh, yes. I remember when you were little, you were always scared on Halloween. It didn’t seem to be the trick-or-treaters or the decorations. It was something else. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, Mom. I remember.”
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The first issue of 34 Orchard may be downloaded as a PDF here. You may read it for free, but please consider a donation of $1.99 (a Paypal link is available on the site).
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Here's a little teaser of the tale, with a scary author doing the reading.
