Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Thursday, April 23, 2026

I Wonder What That Is...

Well, it sure looks like something is out there at Black Tooth Pond.

My work on the sequel to The House at Black Tooth Pond is coming closer and closer to its end. Only a couple of chapters more, I believe, before I can slap "The End" on it. And then we shall see...

Saturday, April 18, 2026

"Threnody" Depiction by J.B. Lee


In April 2024, I posted an interview with artist J.B. Lee (see "A Graveside Chat with J.B. Lee"), showcasing a variety of his works, most of them in the cosmic horror and/or Lovecraftian mode. Just the other day, he posted one of his illustrations, which was based on my 1987 story, "Threnody," It perfectly captures the atmosphere and horrific elements of the tale, and I most heartily approve.

I originally published "Threnody" in Deathrealm issue #2, and it was subsequently reprinted in Robert M. Price's anthology, The New Lovecraft Circle (Fedogan & Bremer, 1996) under the title "The Spheres Beyond Sound." Now, I had used the title, "The Spheres Beyond Sound" for entirely different (though related), but Mr. Price liked it so much, he wondered if I'd allow "Threnody" to be published under that title. I reluctantly agreed, and to be sure, it's fitting for the story. Later, "Threnody" appeared, with its original title, in my collections The Last Trumpet (Wildside Press, 2000) and Fugue Devil: Resurgence (Black Raven Books, 2022).

Here is Mr. Lee's description of the art: "A scene from Stephen Mark Rainey's 'The Spheres Beyond Sound' ('Threnody'). And before any Stranger Things fans get started, that giant arachnoid critter is copyright 1987. Painted with the usual digital tablet. NO A.I."

Now, I don't know about any Stranger Things comparisons, but I will tell you that when I wrote "Threnody," I had never seen either The Evil Dead or The Evil Dead 2. However, it wasn't long after I wrote the story that I did, and I was mortified that a few of the plot elements corresponded a bit too closely for comfort (although, in all these years, I've never heard anyone make that comparison, for which I am relieved).
 
"Threnody" is not the first of my stories for which J.B. has created a lovely piece of art. His interpretation of my story "Stalker of the Wild Wind," which originally appeared in Robert M. Price's The Ithaqua Cycle (Chaosium, 1999) also does the tale more than justice. That's it below. (Click on the photos to enlarge.)
 
Thanks, J.B.

Saturday, May 31, 2025

Expressions 2025


Brugger isn't holding up her framed artwork in the photo at left, which is how it struck me after I took the picture. She's actually holding a wine glass in that hand (imagine that, heh heh).

Ms. B. regularly features nature in her mixed-media art, which usually includes flowers, mushrooms, insects, snails, fish, and other flora and fauna. Our local art center—Piedmont Arts—which she recently joined, presents a major art exhibition every year called "Expressions." She entered two pieces, which are pictured here. The show opened last night with a well-attended reception at the art center, complete with free hors d'oeuvres and spirits.
 
Also present was artist and longtime friend, Charles Hill, whom I've known since elementary school. I've posted examples of his work on my blog in the past (some of which you may see here and also here, with his paintings of "The House of Caviness" and "Black Tooth Pond," which inspired my novel...wait for it...The House at Black Tooth Pond). He's had some serious health problems lately, but he's doing better, and I was very glad to see him and his work at the show last night.
 
Back in the early 1980s, after I graduated college with a Bachelor of Fine Art degree, I was an active member of Piedmont Arts, where I frequently exhibited and taught classes. I don't do much in the way of fine art anymore, that's for sure, but I very much enjoy revisiting my artistic roots at Piedmont Arts. And I'm sure Ms. B. will do plenty more exhibiting. The Expressions exhibit will be up for a month, I believe, so if you're local, you should stop in and check out some truly excellent art!

Thursday, June 27, 2024

A Graveside Chat with M. Wayne Miller


M. Wayne Miller
is one of the most prolific and recognized talents in the field of the dark arts. Well, not necessarily black magic, but for three decades, his artwork has graced the pages and covers of countless magazines, anthologies, collections, and novels — including many of mine. Wayne's earliest work appeared in Deathrealm magazine, but it wasn't long before his list of clients began to include such noteworthy names as April Moon Books, Dark Regions Press, Journalstone Publishing, Necro Publications, Celaeno Press, Pinnacle Entertainment Group, Chaosium, Crossroad Press, TOR, and many others.

AGC: It was purely serendipitous that when you first began submitting your art to various publications in the 1990s, you lived literally around a couple of corners from me in Greensboro, NC. Thus, I had the privilege of seeing some of your early artistic development first-hand. To say I was impressed is a gross understatement. Do you have any stand-out recollections of those pioneering days, so to speak, as far as the challenges and rewards of that formative period?

MWM:
Yes indeed, Deathrealm magazine was my first paid commission, for a story by the late Tom Piccirilli, no less. At that time I was submitting to any publisher of line art. Hundreds I expect. Deathrealm was the first to respond, and we met in person as you mentioned at my home to discuss the work. I am pleased that our working relationship has become true friendship over the years.

That initial commission became a wave of work done for horror magazines and anthologies over the next several years. There were multiple issues of Deathrealm, as well as work in Lore, Terminal Fright (both magazine and anthology), Epitaph, Aberrations, and Flesh & Blood magazine. This led to many interior art commissions for RPG games from Chaosium and WEB Games, as well as many anthologies and poetry collections. There was a period where I was hugely prolific with line art, and while the financial reward was less than desirable, the work was huge fun and laid the groundwork for my subsequent freelance career.

AGC: Your earliest published work was mostly black & white interior illustration, but you very quickly became adept at producing full-color illos and cover art. Your portfolio includes an impressive number of works in various media. Do you have a preference — or particular fondness — for one medium or style over another?

MWM:
I knew early on that black & white illustration would not pay the bills no matter how prolific I was. I had to gain color work in the industry to progress. While I see tone extremely well, color use was not something I had any natural ability with. My first forays into creating color work was using markers and color pencil to colorize line art. While the results were good in themselves, it was only a stepping stone towards my use of color in illustration. I made a concerted effort to learn to paint in acrylic and oils from 1999 to 2005. My line art had phased out, and I basically took that time to redevelop my skillset. I was successful in learning to paint, and for several years painted for myself. Those were quite good years, but of course, I had to break into the industry again to get my color illustration career off the ground.

Dark Regions Press offered my first color cover commission, for one of your books, Mark, titled Other Gods. After that, my cover illustration career was off to the races. I soon learned that traditional media was not viable for production on quick deadlines. I was just not fast enough with it, and the drying times required meant I was fighting both the medium and deadline to get work done as quickly as possible. In 2009 I made the transition to all digital workflow, and have maintained steady work ever since. While not as visceral as traditional media, digital painting has offered a rich arena for learning and growth, and I still strive to improve and grow using software and learning new techniques. Regarding fondness, while digital offers fast production and ease of preparing print files, lately I have been feeling the urge to return to oils and acrylics. I attend a weekly drink-n-draw group where I only work traditionally with graphite, charcoal, watercolor, and color pencils. It is my “sanity break” from steady digital art production the rest of the week!

AGC: As far as artists go, who might you consider a major creative influence, if any? How about writers? Are there any particular authors whose work you haven't illustrated but that you're dying to?

MWM: I consider the late Bernie Wrightson to be my greatest artistic influence for both my line art and color illustration. His work is sublime, and always inspiring to me. For color work, I was heavily influenced by Michael Whelan, and still am in awe of his artistic output today. Along with these major influences, I love the work of Brom, Larry Elmore, Virgil Finlay, Wayne Douglas Barlowe, and Phil Hale. Honestly, I could rattle off dozens of artists, but nobody wants to read such a list here. Suffice it to say I love visual art and artists, and can gain inspiration from them all. My biggest author influence (after yourself of course, Mark!) is Stephen King. He is a very visual writer, and I can literally “see” his prose. Judging by all the adaptations for film and television, others are similarly affected by his writing style. For the most part, I have no use for such adaptations, because they never live up to what I saw in my imagination.

Coincidentally, King is also the “holy grail” author whose work I would love to illustrate. To get a cover or interior project for one of his books would be a dream come true! As with artists, there are multitudes of writers I am influenced by with my art, and a few will suffice to represent the rest. I love the work of Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child (Pendergast rocks!), Daniel Suarez, Jim Butcher, Neal Stephenson, Piers Anthony, Robert E. Howard, Scott Sigler, and of course H.P. Lovecraft.
AGC: In addition to the dark lit business, you've done plenty of work for the gaming industry. Is there any creative difference in your approach — or style — for these, or are they flip sides of the same coin?

MWM: I feel they are synonymous with regard to my artistic output. Granted, subject matter and style can vary, but I strive to put my artistic stamp on them all. The fact that a fair portion of both the fiction and RPGs share similar Cthulhu Mythos themes reinforces my love of creating such art, and I revel in depicting the indescribable and maddening. Fantasy and Young Adult genres stretch my artistic comfort zone, which is never a bad thing. Science Fiction is a mainstay genre for me, and I strive for the day when I can walk through a bookstore and see a dozen of my covers on mass market shelves. The illustrator’s journey is never-ending for certain!

AGC: You and I used to work for rival educational publishing companies in Greensboro. Did you ever feel inclined to resort to covert ops to get a leg up in the business? I know I did.

MWM: Ha! It’s funny, but at the time I never considered that rivalry to be “a thing,” though it evidently was in hindsight. I loved that job and the company, and I was aware of your company as another similar business, but I never felt that competition. I was just happy to have steady fruitful employment. Of course, that ended in layoff, and when I got hit with the reality of the existing rivalry between the companies was when I figured I would seek employment there since it was a similar business. For whatever reason, the boss at your company would not take any former employee of my company, period and end of story. Frankly, that pissed me off at the time, as I would have been a great asset for that company, and would have willingly shared anything I knew with them in the course of work. Even now, I look back on that owner’s stance with perplexity. Thankfully, that perceived rivalry is moot, since both companies are no longer operating in the area, and it never affected our friendship.

AGC: Were you a "monster kid" in your youth? Watch every horror/SF/critter feature that came on TV or to the theater? Do you have any favorite memories or inspiring moments that set you on the creative course you chose?

MWM: Of course! I loved anything monstrous on TV — Godzilla, aliens, saucers, cities being trampled by who knows what. Friday nights were my favorite time for watching such movies, and naturally I had to build models of such things, and play Ultraman or Destroy All Monsters with my friends of the time. All that changed in 1977 when Star Wars came out. It was the formative moment of my 10-year-old life, and after that, nothing would be the same about my artistic output. Even to this day, I still draw Star Wars stuff, despite never having been hired to do so professionally. One of these days, though, I will attain that dream as well! Hear that, Disney? Lets talk!

AGC: Anything you can mention about upcoming projects? What can we look forward to from you in the coming days/months/years?

MWM I am pleased to be working on a cover and interiors project for Joe Morey at Weird House Press. Years ago Joe ran Dark Regions Press, and I have been working with him ever since. Yet another long-running professional association that has developed into a true friendship. I am thankful to have such friends in the industry, and that they evidently enjoy working with me! Additionally, I am happily working on a Chaosium project for a new property of theirs, and like most things, I can say nothing about it due to NDA. Unfortunately, with times being as they are, business is not as it once was. As an illustrator, I am running head first into the AI thing, and I can feel its effects on my field. But as with any transitive period, flexibility and resiliency are foremost in my efforts to maintain a fruitful and growing career. I am nothing if not hard-headed, and I'm in this for the long haul. You may look forward to having me and my work popping up for many years to come.

AGC: Thank you, M. Wayne Miller!

Friday, May 3, 2024

Another Milestone on That Long, Winding Road to Last Day

YESTERDAY: Another birthday, another day closer to death, blah-blah-blah. This is my first month on Medicare, so that's how many of these milestones I've passed on the long and winding road. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for every second that I still inhabit this planet; milestones just don't seem to mean what they used to. The main reason I even remembered this one was because I needed to make sure I changed all my old medical insurance information over to the new.

It was a mellow birthday, to be sure. I began the day with my usual long walk around the neighborhood. I've managed to put in at least three miles a day without missing a single one since early January, and, before that, missed days were few and far between. It's definitely made a difference in my physical strength and stamina, and, given the abundance of steep hills in this area, I expect the cardiac workout has been good for keeping the ticker on a healthy track. I could probably stand to focus on a more healthful diet, but at the same time, it could be lot worse. I've got a regular physical checkup coming up soon, so I'm hoping my doctor will give me a smile rather than a frown.

Ms. Brugger made me one of her classic birthday cards (see above) and, come dinnertime, treated me to one of my favorite desserts ever — a mascarpone and Irish cream whipped dessert with bitter cherries, a recipe she got from our friend Yvonne. I was craving Thai chicken & basil for dinner, and since it's one of my mostest favoritest things to make, I up and fixed it myself. Next week, it's Brugger's birthday, so we're going to have a fancier dinner outing tomorrow evening as sort of a joint celebration.

We've been on a WWII movie kick lately, so for our evening theatrical feature, we put on Tora, Tora, Tora, which she hadn't seen, and it's one of my favorite films. The Blu-ray has the extended Japanese cut on it, so we watched that version, which I think I prefer. That carried us pretty late in the evening, so before bedtime, I finished listening to the audiobook of Gateways by F. Paul Wilson, as I've been on a Repairman Jack binge lately. Paul has had some serious health issues, but I heard from him the other day, and it sounds like he's on the upswing. I very much hope so.

I received a ton of very nice birthday wishes from friends both online and in person, and every last one is deeply appreciated. Perhaps I can continue plaguing you with my existence for a long time to come. (Evil laughter...)

Laters, all!
My infamous Thermonuclear Thai Chicken with Basil
Ms. B.'s mascarpone & Irish cream with bitter cherries. Heavenly!

Thursday, April 11, 2024

A Graveside Chat with J.B. Lee

Artist J.B. Lee is a prolific painter/illustrator with an impressive portfolio of scary images, influenced by horror authors such as H.P. Lovecraft, August Derleth, Joseph Payne Brennan, and others, as well as such classic horror/science fiction TV series as The Outer Limits, Thriller, One Step Beyond, and others. J.B. kindly agreed to talk about his work and provide a number of his creations to be posted here.

 
AGC: You are clearly a devotee of some of the most seminal television science fiction/horror shows of the 1950s and 1960s — specifically, The Outer Limits, Thriller, and One Step Beyond. Much of your art is done "in the style of" these shows. Could you relate some of your earliest memories of these classics — and elaborate on how they influenced your art and its themes?

JBL: I saw all three of those shows in their original run, maybe not every episode, but enough to make an impression on a kid somewhere between 3 and 9 years old. The first One Step Beyond — or “Alcoa Presents,” as we called it — that I remember was "Emergency Only," and that aired in 1959, three days before I turned three. Maybe I caught it in reruns, I couldn’t say, but I do recall it. But I could read at two and a half, or at least that was when they realized I was reading. L’il Abner gave me away! Remember L’il Abner, the newspaper comic strip? My parents thought I was just making up things the characters were saying until they actually checked one day. That must have been a shock! August Derleth would have italicized that sentence: “The boy was actually reading what it said in those word balloons!”

So, I was quite precocious, and if I didn’t understand everything that was going on, I sure caught enough of it. And I was a kid, so I took everything that was said at face value. When scary John Newland said this was a true story, hey, it was a true story! He’s an adult, so he wouldn’t lie about it! So, yes, that woman foresaw the future, and yes, the ghost really haunted the U-Boat, and you bet that guy’s wife kept hearing an airplane crashing through their house. That was the one that scared me the most — it’s titled "Tonight at 12:17" — not least because we lived near a small airport and planes were always buzzing around. Another gem was "The Captain's Guests," written by Twilight Zone scribe Charles Beaumont, based around an idea he’d resurrect a few years later for the Lovecraft adaptation The Haunted Palace.  That certainly left an impression!

The first Thriller I remember seeing was "The Purple Room," and that’s considered the first “horror” episode, even though it Scooby-Doos us with a fake monster in the end. But there would soon come things that weren’t fake, oh, you bet! Harry Townes’ good look at himself through the cursed eyeglasses of "The Cheaters"… Macdonald Carey striking a deal with John Emery’s terrifying devil in "The Devil's Ticket"… Hans the mannequin coming to life in "The Weird Tailor"… William Shatner, not yet Captain Kirk, vainly fleeing the scythe of "The Grim Reaper." And Boris Karloff as host. He was very different from One Step Beyond’s John Newland; he was rarely sinister, he just invited us to join him and see sinister things. More often than not he was seemingly as scared of what was coming as we soon would be!
From H.P. Lovecraft's "The Call of Cthulhu"

The scariest episode of that show, at least to a 5 year old, was "The Return of Andrew Bentley." The undead Bentley skulking around the house was bad enough, but he had a demon familiar with him, clawed, cloaked, with an eyeless maw for a face! When the first pictures from 1979’s Alien began to appear in magazines – just a close-up of the business end of the head – I looked at this eyeless monster and his mouth full of teeth and immediately flashed on Andrew Bentley’s Familiar. And John Newland is in that one as a hero – I didn’t recognize him as the One Step Beyond Man, but I have no doubt that at least subconsciously that made the episode even scarier.

And then came The Outer Limits, and by that time I was old enough to recall every episode. Not perfectly — for many years I thought "The Guests" was titled "Parasite Mansion," and when a Starlog Magazine episode guide revealed it as "The Guests," I found myself baffled, because I knew something scary had been titled "Parasite Mansion," but couldn’t recall what. (It’s a Thriller episode.) I was there from the start, Monday night 9/16/63, watching Cliff Robertson pick up a transmission from the Andromeda Galaxy, and ultimately picking up a radioactive alien from said galaxy in the bargain! I have no doubt that Joseph Stefano’s purple prose for that show helped prime the pump for me to be completely receptive to H.P. Lovecraft’s strange stories about 6 years later. Consider this alien’s line from "The Invisibles": “We were conceived in the nothingness of space, sired by a satyr of cosmic energy, formed by the coming together of sick, nameless nuclei that waited a billion billion years for that precise, ungodly moment.” HPL would sign his name to that! And while The Outer Limits was supposedly science fiction, it was actually the most Lovecraftian of the three shows that powerfully influenced this Monster Kid way back then. For many years certain TOL episodes were the most HPL-ish films we had. Watch "A Feasibility Study," "Don't Open Till Doomsday," "The Guests," "Wolf 359," "It Crawled Out of the Woodwork," everything about those shows is Lovecraftian — the direction, cinematography, monster design, Weird Science. They nailed the atmosphere perfectly.

And it was the atmosphere that I took away for my own work. The bizarre camera angles, the chiaroscuro. Since embracing this monochromatic approach to my monsters, I absolutely believe there is something about black and white that makes things more terrifying — working on your subconscious fear that the light is failing, and you’re about to be left in the dark. “Red is grey and yellow, white,” intoned the Moody Blues all those ages ago, speaking of nightfall. And I say “my monsters,” but they’re someone else’s monsters. I’m like Lovecraft’s weird artist Richard Upton Pickman — he was a skilled craftsman with no imagination at all. Thurber goes on in the story about how the best weird artists have a model conjured up by their imagination, but the irony is that Pickman doesn’t have that. He has his skill and a camera, and he knows where the weird things are. I do the same thing with other people’s imaginations. Someone writes “…a darkness fell out of the clouds like a black meteorite, a darkness grotesquely shaped like a man with carmine eyes like stars for eyes in its bloated blot of a head,” and I show that to you with my craft. Points if you know who wrote that — it’s from the best story about that monster that’s out there, and it wasn’t written by the creator of said critter. In fact, its creator never saw that story! Another tale that someone needs to be putting on film, instead of putzing around with the unfilmable At the Mountains of Madness! Oops, did I say that out loud?

AGC: The works of H.P. Lovecraft and other writers from that "weird tales" era feature prominently in your compositions. Do you feel that those literary works and the visual/narrative styles of the shows mentioned above naturally complement each other? Given the constraints of budget, technology, etc. from the 1950s and 1960s, those black and white television shows oftentimes presented remarkably effective "bears," as they called the monsters in those days. What "bear" out of dark lit would you most liked to have seen back then if you'd had your druthers, so to speak?
From August Derleth's "The Shuttered Room"

JBL:
One Step Beyond was hampered by its format. It could only do things that might be accepted as “true” by the audience. So dreams, visions, premonitions were its stock in trade, occasionally a ghost. They definitely did Harvey’s "August Heat" as “The Stone Cutter”, though. Didn’t credit Harvey, either, but give that one a look and decide for yourself. I think Charles Beaumont forgot he was writing for OSB, not Twilight Zone, when he did "The Captain's Guests," because there’s a transformation there that might be a little hard to swallow as a real event. Not that I had any problem accepting it, not back then! But Thriller and The Outer Limits had no such constraints. The Outer Limits always tried to explore the human condition with its stories — Joseph Stefano famously said he was allowed to show a genocidal massacre as long as aliens were the ones getting massacred — but Thriller, at least under the hand of producer William Frye, existed for one reason: to scare the viewer. To the devil with morality plays!

That said, I would have given much to have seen The Outer Limits take on Lovecraft’s "The Colour Out of Space." That oft-filmed story begs for the sort of grotesque noir approach TOL became famous for… and their Acme Optical Printer would have been putting in overtime on that show, when the Colour began to spread through the farmhouse and over the farm! But Lovecraft doesn’t have the sort of character depth and interaction The Outer Limits demanded, and Thriller just barely touched on science fiction, so "Colour" didn’t happen. A second-season TOL episode titled "Cry of Silence" proves to be a much more benign take on the same sort of story, and as close as TOL ever came to such a thing. The German filmmaker Huan Vu gave us something pretty close to what I imagine TOL would have presented in his 2010 version of the story, Die Farbe (The Colour). I consider it the best HPL film we have at present.

And Thriller — how I wish we’d had a good Joseph Payne Brennan adaptation from that show! They did two of his stories as "The Lethal Ladies," and they’re good, but neither of them were the sort of weird horror he did so well. I absolutely believe that show could have pulled off his classic "Slime," even in 1960 — no TV show had shadows blacker than Thriller could muster, and they could have used that cinematography to make us think we saw more of Brennan’s shapeless black monster than any costume could present. Failing that, though, I’m sure Thriller’s take on "Canavan's Back Yard" or "The Horror at Chilton Castle" would have been unforgettable, and much easier for the show to accomplish. Worlds of If!

AGC: You are a minister at a Christian church, if I'm not mistaken. Have any of the tenets of your faith played into your appreciation of cosmic horror — or vice-versa?
From H.P. Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark"

JBL: I am the pastor at Hughes Creek church of God, up the hollow where I live. I tell people I pastor "up Hughes Creek" and people say “Oh, you’re the pastor of that great big church with the electronic sign,” only to have me reply “No, I’m the pastor of the little tiny church with no sign, where the paved road ends and the dirt road begins.” Our tenets are somewhat different from much of Christendom — at least American Christendom, I don’t know what people are teaching in the churches of Denmark or Vietnam! We believe there’s one church; the Biblical name for it is "Church of God," but every follower of Christ is in it, regardless of what it says over the door. Hence one of our mottos is “We reach our hand in fellowship to every blood-washed one.” We keep no roll and sign no membership books for the same reason — your membership in the church is between you and God. We don’t believe in a literal millennial reign on the future earth, but a spiritual kingdom of the heart in the here-and-now, where the law of Christ is to be followed: Love God, love people (Matt. 22:37-39). The church and the kingdom are the same thing. We believe the book of Revelation to be almost all symbolic, and that most of it has already occurred. So we don’t expect a literal Great Tribulation, or a literal capital-A Antichrist — a term that doesn’t appear in Revelation, by the way. We don’t believe 666 is the number of the devil, the mark of the beast, and we don’t believe it’s going on your head or your hand in some nightmare future dystopia, and we don’t buy a piece of gum to prevent getting $6.66 in change back at the grocery. So we differ from much of Christianity in our doctrine. If someone reading this does believe in those things and wonders what kind of heretic I am, then I’ll say to them what I’ve said to many others: “You pray for me and I’ll pray for you, and we’ll come into an understanding of the truth together.”

I said all that to say this: traditional Christian-based demonology horror, which revolves around exorcisms and demons and antichrists, never did much for me before I was Christian, and does even less given my beliefs now. I did like the first two Omen movies, 666 or no, and Jerry Goldsmith’s scores for those films are great. And The Car, in which the devil becomes an automobile, is definitely a “guilty pleasure,” as they say. Had a great time with that film at the Kearse Theater in 1977. Alas, the Kearse is gone now, like so much of the Charleston of my youth.

But my favorite horror movie, without question, is Tourneur’s Night of the Demon, and that demon certainly wouldn’t listen to Fathers Merrin and Karras or trouble Regan MacNeil, unless she went to school with Karswell’s kid and he pranked her with the dreaded runes. That fiend isn’t a Biblical demon. Much closer to one of Lovecraft’s menagerie. There’s this bit in the film where one of the investigators shows us all these pictures of demons from different mythologies, reciting their names, and yikes! They all look the same! That was a constant in August Derleth’s Cthulhu stories — someone relating all the mythological fiends that resembled Cthulhu or Ithaqua or whoever the monster of the month was, so we’d believe there was Something To It and all these peoples had seen the same horror. Anyway, the monsters that really scared me, from childhood on, weren’t Biblically based at all. The Zanti Misfits. the Killer Shrews. the Monolith Monsters. the H-Man. So even before my experience with Christ, weird horror, cosmic horror, meant much more to me than traditional demonic stuff. The three greatest horror stories ever written are "The Colour Out of Space," "The Willows," and "The White People." You won’t find much traditional Christian-based horror in any of those.

AGC: Although not at all similar in style, I feel your body of work is in some ways comparable to that of Lee Brown Coye, who rendered many, many of my favorite illustrations of Lovecraftian horrors and related imagery. Are there any artists, either in the horror field or out of it, whom you might claim as influences for your work.
From John Wyndham's Day of the Triffids

JBL: I like Coye’s work, but just not as illustrations! His Wilbur Whateley, for instance, on the dust jacket of The Dunwich Horror and Others — that’s a remarkably creepy guy, but it doesn’t look like Lovecraft’s Whateley boy at all! I grew up watching all the Hanna-Barbera superhero shows on Saturday morning, so of course Alex Toth influenced my stuff. Likewise the comic book artists of the time — Dr. Strange’s Steve Ditko, Fantastic Four’s Jack Kirby, Magnus Robot Fighter’s Russ Manning. My parents were suspicious of comic books, no doubt because of the Horror Comic Panic of the early Fifties, which they’d probably heard about in the magazines and newspapers. That was all over by the time I came along, but my folks didn’t want me reading those “bad books.” So of course they had the magnetism of the forbidden, and when I was 6 I cried and begged and pleaded to get one. The one I wanted — and got — was DC Showcase #39, starring the robotic heroes The Metal Men, and introducing their most tenacious enemy, a walking vat of toxic waste called Chemo. This thing was drawn by the team of Ross Andru and Mike Esposito, and it scared me senseless. I was afraid to touch any part of the comic where Chemo resided. I’d read so far and then go bury it at the bottom of the toy box, only to eventually come back and go on reading. I had occasional nightmares about Chemo until I was in my mid 20s. I’d be dreaming about some girl I had a crush on in jr.high school, and suddenly Chemo would barge in and Ruin Everything. There’s one for you, Dr Freud! Sometimes a monster is just a monster! It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if the old boy would pop up again some night, all these years later. So I’d say Andru and Esposito — and Metal Men scribe and creator Robert Kanigher -- definitely influenced not only my art, but my BENT as well!

There were others, surely. I remember the epiphany I had the first time I ever saw an Edward Hopper – that would have been "Gas," when I was in 10th grade. My goodness, that struck me powerfully. I wrote an essay about it so overloaded with Lovecraftian adjectives my art teacher could only say “I guess you liked it—?” And still others. Piet Mondrian. Was he a synaesthete? I sure think he was. Marc Chagall. Paul Klee. Roberto Matta, exposing the terrifying colliding angles of other dimensions! Frank Belknap Long referred to two Matta works I have never been able to track down, with weird Cthulhuoid names: "Icrogy Fecundated" and "Rghuin Monstrous Triumphs." Somewhere out there those things are waiting to blast me, I’m sure. “Sometimes it’s better not to know…” but I’m determined to know, sooner or later. Brancusi and Calder, bringing the abstraction of dream into the real world with their sculptures and mobiles, not that I’ve ever been very good at that sort of thing. But they sure were! I sometimes refer to the wonderfully designed alien robot in the movie Kronos as the “Brancusi bot.” And that reminds me of William Neal’s biomechanical creatures that were all over the sleeve of Emerson Lake and Palmer’s Tarkus album, itself an opener of the way as well. Dali of the molten watches, of course. And the EC Comics artists, better late than never. My favorite of that lot was Jack Davis; really liked Bernard Krigstein and Wally Wood, too.

There have been all kinds. I could go on, but I won’t. I’m happy to have lived in a time when so many great works of art are so easy to find. All but Matta’s Icrogy and Rghuin, those mysterious devils! Someday... SOMEDAY...

AGC: You typically post a "NOT AI" disclaimer with your work, which I personally applaud. I think it's safe to say that you have anything but a positive opinion of AI-generated art. Do you foresee AI having longterm negative ramifications for the creative field? What about in the broader world — in business, science, news, etc.?
From Walter C. DeBill's "Where Yidhra Walks"

JBL: I’m sure you know about the recent "Willie Wonka" Experience — they couldn’t use the name Wonka in the thing, so they called him Willy McDuff — in Glasgow across the pond, where all the ads and the script were generated by AI, and that was the beginning of sorrows. Quite a few people believe Disney wrote the script to their film Wish with AI, and if you watch that film you’ll understand why they think that. AI is nothing but a plagiarism engine, shaving real people’s art and writing so it can present its user with an aggregate of the stubble. A musician named Per Thomhav, who releases excellent Tangerine Dreamish electronic music under the name Synth Replicants, bought one of my pieces for the cover of his album Zentropol — which you can buy on Bandcamp, let me add! I was looking at that cover one day and glumly thought to myself “AI could turn out something like that pretty easily.” Especially if my Zentropol cover was used to train it first! That’s the world we live in. Before I learned that the more you play with an AI, the better it gets at its crimes, I fiddled around with ChatGPT a little. I asked it for an outline for a sermon once, giving it the pericope to use, and it spat out a reasonably teachable Bible study with absolutely no practical application to real life. Next, I asked it to write an outline for a horror story about a man possessed by the cold. I don’t know who fed it Ramsey Campbell’s Midnight Sun, but it had definitely been trained on that novel! But I no longer play with it at all. I know a man involved in the mechanics of film-making who considers it the greatest tool he’s ever encountered, but I don’t know how he’s using it. His talents are beyond my understanding. Let’s hope it has some use beyond plagiarism. We are certainly going to find out if it does, because you can’t put the explosion back in the bomb.


But there will always be artists and writers who do it because they want to, no matter what AI does or doesn’t do. Keep creating! Keep expressing yourself! Everyone is an artist until life talks them out of it. Don’t let that happen. Work to show the world the worth of human inspiration. As Phillips Brooks said a long time ago, “Do not pray for easy lives; pray to be stronger men! Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers; pray for powers equal to your tasks! Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life which has come in you by the grace of God.” That seems like good advice to me.

AGC: Thanks very much, J.B.!
Another rendering from H.P. Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark"
From Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore's "The Twonky"
L: From John W. Campbell's Who Goes There?
R: From H.P. Lovecraft and August Derleth's The Lurker at the Threshold

See More of J.B. Lee's Cosmic Horrors at
Deviant Art and Art Station


Thursday, September 7, 2023

The House of Haunted Hill

Just hung several paintings by Charles Hill, respected artist and longtime friend going back to elementary school.

Top left: Widget, my mom & dad's little dog back in the 80s and 90s; Top right: the view from Charles's front yard; Bottom left: my dad walking Widget from the early 90s; Bottom right: my daughter, Allison Hiiri Rainey, about age 8, running along the banks of Lake Lanier, just down the street from here.

Charles also provided several damn scary pieces of art for Deathrealm magazine back in its day, including this one, which served as an illustration for Elizabeth Massie’s story, “No Solicitors, Curious a Quarter”:

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Dark Corners of the Old Dominion — Cover Reveal

Cover Reveal: Dark Corners of the Old Dominion, due in September from Death Knell Press. This one features my very scary tale, “Doom at Dragon's Roost.

What’s so scary about Virginia?
From Edgar Allan Poe’s Ragged Mountains to the shores of Tidewater’s Seven Cities… From the blood-soaked battlegrounds of the Civil War to the shadowy political arena of the D.C. Beltway.

We have four hundred years’ worth of ghost stories, folk horrors, small-town terrors, urban legends, backwoods monsters, otherworldly secrets, and down-home Southern Gothic.

Within this idyllic landscape, there are many dark corners. Within these pages, Virginia authors explore twenty-four dangerous destinations, myths and monsters from the commonwealth’s past, present, and future. Read on, if you dare.

Dark Corners of the Old Dominion is edited by Joseph Maddrey and Michael Rook, with a foreword by Brian Keene. Every author in this anthology has strong ties to Virginia and it is clear in the stories and poems they’ve created. They are steeped in the salty waters of the Chesapeake Bay, pulsing with the thrum of the beltway, and bleeding from old battlefield scars.

Pre-ordering info is coming soon!

Table of Contents:
“The Bride of Dream Lake” — Catherine Kuo
“Keep It Civil” — Clay McLeod Chapman
“A Holler You Can’t Call Home” — Paul Michael Anderson
“Doom at Dragon’s Roost” — Stephen Mark Rainey
“The Woods Behind My House” — Sonora Taylor
“Room 1968” — Nicole Willson
“By a Thread” — Querus Abuttu
“Notches” — D. Alexander Ward
“New World Order” — Ella B. Rite
“Chesapeake Bait and Hook” — Sirrah Medeiros
“The Girl Who Sleeps in the Room Next to Me” — Charles E. Wood
“Cave Kisses” — William R.D. Wood
“In the Mountain Mist” — Margaret L. Carter
“The Wrong Time” — Ivy Grimes
“The Flooded Man” — Michael Rook
“The Bunnyman of Clifton” — Brýn Grover
“The Song Between the Songs” — J.T. Glover
“A Mischief in Gordonsville” — Valerie B. Williams
“Lost Soul” — María Badillo
“Odditorium” — Sidney Williams
“This is How Your Garden Grows” — Joseph Maddrey
“Beach House” — Bryan Nowak
“A House’s Tale” — Brad Center
“The Path to Freedom” — James L. Hill


Sunday, June 26, 2022

More Geo-Artsing-and-Fartsing


Periodically, Ms. B. goes off on an arts-and-crafts retreat, usually with her regular group of artsy-craftsy friends from NC, at some location of their group leader’s choice. Hillsborough, Raleigh, and Myrtle Beach are among their preferred destinations. Sometimes, I go along too — or, at the nearer locations, head over for a day-long visit — so that, while she’s artsing and fartsing, I go geocaching. Then, later in the day, we get together to go wining and dining. For us, this is a most excellent system.

This weekend, her gang met in Raleigh, near Raleigh-Durham Airport, which is readily accessible, and especially great for me because that area is rich with geocaches. This time around, I went over just for the day and targeted the Black Creek Greenway, near Lake Crabtree, just southeast of the airport. It was hot and buggy out, but for the most part, the greenway ran through woods that offered plenty of shade. For me, one of the most appealing aspects of this particular hike — which, according to my health app, measured 6.66 miles (how apt) — was that most of the caches were a bit more creative than your typical micro hide in the woods (see photo above — a fun cache called “Skeletor”). And although it wasn’t on the greenway but at a nearby hotel, for the first time in way too long, I got to climb a tree after a cache. Not a big tree, but a fun tree nonetheless. I do so love a good tree-climbing cache.

After putting in the mileage, I returned to Kim’s hotel, cleaned up as best as this old fart can clean up, and then we headed out for dinner and drinks. When we’re in that area, it’s something of a tradition to dine at Trali Irish Pub, which is precisely where we ended up. I customarily go for their Scotch eggs and fish & chips. This time, I ordered Scotch eggs and fish & chips. Fookin’ excellent, as usual. For afters, we got on Google to see if we could find a wine bar nearby. The closest offering was a small place called dailypint, which turned out to be a very loud... no, I mean VERY loud... and altogether unremarkable dive bar that had a handful of wines on hand. They did have a reasonable selection of craft beers, so I opted for one of those. In the end, though, we didn’t care to stay very long. In our old age, Ms. B. and I like to be able to hear ourselves drink...er, think.

From there, Ms. B. went back to making art, and I returned to Casa di Rodan. Though the bar experience was “Feh,” the dinner and geocaching made the trip fun as can be (and good for a much-needed cardio workout).

G’wan. Git.

L) Finger-Lickin' Good; R) Fore!
Going a little batty
L) It's good to be up in a tree again; R) A tree real hugger
Fish & Chips at Trali Irish Pub — the "small" order
One of Ms. B.'s art journal pages, with images from our last trip to Europe

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Accent on Nerds

The things you sometimes find when you’re looking for other things....

I was going through old files, searching for a copy of my dad’s obituary, when I happened upon a folder full of family memorabilia, mostly from the 1970s and 80s. Among them were some singularly horrific items featuring my brother and me, the most egregious being an Accent on People feature from The Martinsville Bulletin, Sunday, May 12, 1974. The article was titled “Mark Rainey: A Monstrous Success,” and it related the story of a lad preoccupied with monsters — specifically, Godzilla and other daikaiju — to the point of mania. I can scarcely imagine a sadder, more tragic waste of a young life.

I don’t recall how the feature writer, a Ms. Gail Dudley, stumbled upon me and my unearthly hobbies, but I do recall her (and Bulletin photographer Mike Wray, who only relatively recently retired) coming to my house to conduct an interview and take photos. To be sure, it was an exciting day for me, and an even more exciting one when the article appeared in print. Once in a while, I have actually wondered if any copies of this thing might still exist. Apparently so. At one time, I may have had one tucked away in the vault upstairs, but I am not going in that scary place to hunt for it. The excavation required would prove prohibitive anyway.

But here it is... probably the nerdiest thing you’ll see today. Or maybe ever. If you can’t make out the little print, consider yourself lucky.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Miller Masterworks

Seriously, check out that stuff up there. Somewhere back in Deathrealm's ten-year run, artist M. Wayne Miller came to my attention. Whether he sought me out or vice-versa, I have no recollection, but it turned out he lived down the street from me, and it wasn't long before he became the go-to man whenever I needed art of exceptional caliber, be it for Deathrealm or some project of my own. Over the years, Wayne provided numerous illustrations for stories I ran in the magazine, and soon enough, the covers for my own novels and short-fiction collections. It doesn't hurt that Wayne is a fan of both Thai food and Godzilla — we get together now and again to celebrate these things. Truly, it's a rare and honorable soul what relishes the spectacle of miniature cities falling beneath the feet of monstrous, radioactively mutated rubber reptiles as much as I do, and Wayne is all there. Keeps us young and healthy, it does.

Wayne is currently the featured artist at GrayDogTales, and you need to check it out: M. Wayne Miller: An Artist Speaks. Go now.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Jon Gnagy — Learn to Draw!


If you're of the age that's too old to rock & roll but too young to die, perhaps you'll remember Jon Gnagy, the television art guy that came before Bob Ross. I had not forgotten he existed — not by a long shot — but I don't think I've consciously recalled his name or his art for many, many years. Then, today, my friend Lew "Moose" Hartman, a fair old artist himself, mentioned Gnagy on Facebook, which brought a tide of memories rushing to me. I couldn't have been more than five or six years old when I discovered Gnagy's show, Learn to Draw, on broadcast television. As early as kindergarten, I was cranking out drawings of monsters, dinosaurs, spaceships, airplanes, and such, and I naturally found Gnagy's technique and manner quite engaging. I specifically remember a couple of scenes he drew, one of which I found online — the old oak tree, shown above. Another was a rather lonely-looking house in a valley with the moon shining down on it. Gnagy's compositions and use of shadow and highlights fascinated me, as all my drawings were naught but simple line work. In later years, I became quite serious about producing art, even earning a BFA degree from the University of Georgia, and to this day I must give credit to Jon Gnagy for being my earliest influence in that direction.

My creative focus long ago turned to writing, and I've not produced visual art of any kind in more years than I like to think about, yet Gnagy's influence, however indirectly, may have extended to my writing as well. Early on, my interest in art and storytelling went hand in hand, and the scenes Gnagy created on television were textured and atmospheric — like snapshots of specific moments in the middle of unfolding events. His drawings sparked my imagination, my desire to know what was actually happening in the scenes he rendered. Some of my earliest stories, if one could call them that, were built around memorable images, and the one of that lonely house in a moonlit valley still stands out for me. I don't remember specifically what sprang from my young imagination then, but I'm quite certain it was dark and grim, the subject matter probably born of my fondness for The Outer Limits and such.

Looking at the videos of Gnagy's show now, it's remarkable how vivid and undistorted my recollections are of those programs from the early 1960s — testimony to the depth of their influence. I must seriously thank Mr. Moose Hartman for stirring up those old memories. And who knows, maybe one day I'll pick up some art materials again and really horrify my audience.

Gnagy's granddaughter, Liz Seymour, quite a few years ago, wrote a short, informative article about him that you can find here: You Were an Artist

Create.