||[22 Dec 2011|08:19am]
I'm not in the habit of doing Year's Best/Favorite Books lists. That won't be changing this year, mostly because I've read very few titles that were released in 2011. Between co-chairing World Horror 2011, co-judging the Shirley Jackson Awards, and beginning work on my Masters Degree I found little time for leisure reading. I didn't write that much either, which makes me grumpy. My to-be-read pile is staggering, so when I come across a title I admire, I'll post about it, and maybe next year I'll provide a roundup of my favorites.
||[17 Dec 2011|08:24am]
THE GERMAN lands on Nick Cato's Top 10 for 2011 list! The author/editor/master of THE HORROR FICTION REVIEW gives the book a fine nod!
ANTIBACTERIAL POPE: TOP 10 for 2011
|TORN from CEMETERY DANCE
||[14 Dec 2011|11:32am]
I'm returning to Live Journal after an extended absence. Managing and following multiple social media sites became too much of a chore. But now I'm back. Rejoice! And for my first post in forever... a bit of a pimp!
How do you go on when something like that happens to your child?
Bill Cranston is a family man, whose marriage is falling apart, eroding under his wife’s constant bitterness and her retreat into alcohol and drugs. He is also the sheriff of Luther’s Bend, a generally quiet town. When a little girl is abducted from a local park and carried into the woods, Bill leads a desperate search to find the child. But the little girl is only bait, and something vicious waits in the woods for her rescuers.
I am me. Can’t you see? I am me and he is he. When he is he, I can’t be me.
Douglas Sykes is insane. He sits in Bill Cranston’s cell, speaking in rhymes and riddles. Though a stranger to Luther’s Bend, Sykes seems to know a lot about Sheriff Cranston. Through his ramblings he reveals secrets about Bill, and secrets about himself. Sykes claims to be a mythological creature – a monster – and a handful of his victims have finally tracked him down, victims who now share Sykes’ affliction.
A pack is descending on Luther’s Bend. They are hunting Sykes, and they will not stop until everyone near him is left broken, bleeding, and torn.
Pre-order the limited or lettered edition now!
|Announcing FOCUS from Thunderstorm Books
||[05 Apr 2011|07:55am]
Don’t say the words!
When hard-working mechanic Denny attends a corporate focus group to earn extra money, he discovers that Frost & Revans Marketing wants more than his opinion. The group he joins is manipulated into performing an ancient rite, summoning demons that intend to seize the bodies of the unwitting test subjects. Only a secret Denny struggles to keep hidden allows him to escape possession and the ensuing slaughter.
But his getaway is short lived.
The demons hunting Denny are one of two summoned tribes, and every nine years they face off in a tournament that can change the course of human history – or end it. He is forced to decide between joining the fight or escaping, leaving the human race open to extinction.
Six meet six in the arena. The fate of mankind is the prize.
“FOCUS is a novella of demented, demonic mayhem. It’s thoughtful, moving, and beautifully written … and is also brimming with kick-ass action. I loved it. So will you.”
– Tim Lebbon, NY Times Bestselling-author of Echo City and The Thief of Broken Toys
“Southard and Thomas are superb writers on their own, but their combined talents elevate FOCUS to phenomenal. One of the best stories you’ll read this year. Absolutely wonderful.”
– Brian Keene, author of The Rising, Urban Gothic, and Jack’s Magic Beans
“Original, subversive and fast as a bullet, FOCUS is a welcome change from much of the standard apocalyptic fiction out there. In the deft hands of Thomas and Southard the result is a mind-blowing thrill ride that’s not only deeply disturbing, but a whole hell of a lot of fun. Don’t miss it.”
— Greg F. Gifune, author of Gardens of Night
“Thomas’s and Southard’s FOCUS is a cold, brutal beauty; it cranks up the tension to page-clutching proportions, while conveying with deft subtelty and masterful language man’s fear of inadequacy and the sinister and inevitable grind of corporate drain. It’s a neat package of supernatural thrills, a must-read for fans of either author.”
– Mary SanGiovanni, author of The Hollower and Thrall
“FOCUS by Nate Southard and Lee Thomas is a nail-biting thriller that works on many levels. Fans of thoughtful, engaging works of dark fantasy will love this; so, for that matter, will fans of pulse-pounding pulp fiction. Set aside a few hours before you read this one. You won’t be able to put it down!”
– J. F. Gonzalez, author of The Corporation and Back from the Dead
FOCUS is a limited edition, paperback novella available at the 2011 World Horror Convention from Thunderstorm Books. Stop by their table in the dealer’s room to purchase a copy.
| THE SECRET LIFE OF LAIRD BARRON
||[16 Mar 2011|07:10am]
Adult content. So unless you’re an adult, stop reading… like now.
REVELATIONS OF THE HUSKY
After the race had ended, and the dogs were recompensed with pats and scratches and bits of dripping red meat, and the awards bestowed, and the media dispersed, the men traveled south, retracing the path that had led them to Nome. Their destination was a place, never spoken of in the company of strangers, but rather whispered in knowing tones from one man to another – men who knew the knife-cruel cold and the acid wind that left them ragged, weakened, and more than ever aware of their humanity. This place was secret; this place was sacred.
The men carried bottles of spirits and stories from the trail, but neither touched their lips along this trek. They journeyed in silence as if on pilgrimage, and along the way if they encountered another traveler inquiring about their destination, the men fixed them with hard eyes, the stares of soldiers who had seen too much and could not release the brutal memories through anything so fragile and insignificant as words. The strangers they met moved on, carrying with them the certainty they had encountered not men, but phantoms - those who had known life but no longer remembered its comforts.
The journey took them one-hundred-and-seventy miles, to the outskirts of a native village, where the superstitious remains of the Malemiut tribe secured shutters and barred doors in preparation of their arrival. Their sanctuary was a temporary shelter, a long house constructed in a matter of days at which they would gather and know that which was to be revealed before evaporating back into the arctic or to the warmer climes of their workaday lives. Upon their departure days later, the structure would be undone and packed away, stored like the fair linen when it was no longer needed to drape the altar.
Divided in two, the long house consisted of a bunkroom and the gathering hall. Inside this hall, there was a long, plank deck that jutted to room’s center and benches lined its length so that all eyes could witness what was to be beheld. On the far end of the space an opening in the partition, like the mouth to the deck’s tongue was draped with a beaded curtain from which wonders would emerge. A support pole ran from the center of the deck to the ceiling; its twin carried the ceiling’s weight in the bunkroom.
Once inside, away from the eyes of the indigenous populace - who disdained fermented spirits – the men began to drink, and they began to talk, their stories spilling over tongues purified by whiskey and rum. They spoke of the trail and the weather; they thanked their respective gods for the few moments of fortune they had received on the otherwise unforgiving tundra.
And on this night, the first night of the pilgrimage, the drink went to the core of the men. Boasts and jibes fermented into aggression, and voices raised and fists followed. Knuckles split lips and buried in stomachs. Men tasted their own blood and the blood of others delivered on swinging fists, but the men knew not hate. Every punch was an affirmation of their strength: they had survived worse; they would survive worse still. Men stumbled and fell and a bench was broken, and a wall nearly so as a great ox of a man threw his attacker against the rapidly fashioned barrier.
The music came on, and it was harsh and simple, like the men who had gathered to listen to it, and the fighting ceased, and a cry rose up, because the music was the green light, the dropped rag, the pistol report - notice to all that the rite was to begin. Soon The Husky would be among them, and all would be revealed.
Men wiped the crimson from their lips and hands. They replaced the benches, lining them up straight and proper on either side of the deck and they sat as the music swelled and then faded, leaving silence in the bitter air of the hall.
A light came on at the curtained end of the deck and the silhouette of a stout man appeared to the collective sighs of the audience. This was He - the reason for their trek.
They called him The Husky, and his life was a collection of mysteries: no facts, simply layer upon layer of rumor and speculation. They said he’d killed a man and smoked his skin for jerky to survive a rough winter, and they said he’d taught his dog team to howl in harmony like a fine chorus, and as for the patch over his eye - the stories were too numerous to count. What could be said without contradiction was that The Husky was an artist.
Another light flickered on behind him, and the aggregation of coarse men looked on entranced, their eyes flitting over the filaments of fur – the kills that covered The Husky head to toe – and they waited… and waited. Breath held. Aching fists clenched.
Then the music returned, louder and harsher…
And bitches it was on! The Husky threw back the beaded curtain and burst into the lantern light, stomping his mink thigh-high boots in heated rhythm to Motley Crue, who expounded the virtues and the vices of the Wild Side. He strutted to the edge of the stage and spun, slipped the jacket to the crook of his elbow to reveal a white, muscled shoulder, and the men shouted as if for blood. The Husky’s tongue shot out and tasted the air, bringing another round of growling thunder, and then he bathed his mustache and beard with that well-rehearsed tongue, sending his audience into breathless petrifaction before he whipped his face away and headed for the pole in the center of the catwalk.
He wrapped a gloved hand around the glossy metal and spun himself playfully, his jacket of chinchilla sweeping the floor, and then as he picked up speed it pulled into the air like a cape. He kicked high and grasped his ankle, holding his foot skyward, and again the tongue. Flashed. Tasted. Vanished. He released his leg and performed a dizzying pirouette. Then the jacket fell from his shoulders, and he threw it to the crowd where blood was spilled over its acquisition. Soon his elk-skin hot pants with their Velcro tear-away seams followed the jacket into the throng, leaving The Husky clad in nothing but boots and gloves and a sheath made from the pelt of an arctic fox. This he removed with his teeth.
For that was the source, the font, the spring of his moniker. The Husky could bend curiously, placing his face in the region of his manhood, and with his tongue he could perform feats generally reserved for the pullers of his sled. And when the pelt of the arctic fox hit the stage, the Husky remained bent, head swaying from side to side in time with the thunder-song and the stomping of the pilgrims who had gathered to pay him respect.
But this was merely a tease, a tantalization. The Husky righted himself, gloved hands already in place to cover his secrets. Gingerly. Petulantly. He twirled around and skipped to the pole, launching himself halfway up its length and using his thrust to carry him around its circumference.
And it was then he came to know the nature of his fate, for during the brawl that had preceded the Husky’s performance, the cord running from the generator to the heating unit in the pole had been knocked free. And like a moistened tongue, that which had been moistened by a tongue adhered to the cruel, icy metal and ripped away as momentum carried the Husky through the completion of his spin.
The legend died then, and The Husky was no more. All that was expected came to naught and the men slept restlessly that night, their bunks no longer welcoming but rather hard as stone as they struggled to find sleep with so much agony in their minds.
And that is the truth. And that is the all. That is the story of what transpired with our intrepid hero The Husky - known to some as Barron - in the Tool Lick Shack outside of Shaktoolik, Alaska.
Delivered with humor and affection,
For more tales from THE SECRET LIFE OF LAIRD BARRON, please visit John Langan’s Journal, where a running list of anecdotes from this mysterious life will be revealed.
|EDGE LA - A Stunning review of THE GERMAN
||[15 Mar 2011|12:09am]
In part the critic notes:
"The German... is a grisly, engrossing page-turner from Lambda award-winning author Lee Thomas...[It] isn’t a conventional mystery novel, but rather an intriguing period piece... that will likely provoke thought and discussion and remind its readers how far we’ve come."
Full review at EDGE LA.
For additional reviews, book trailer, and order information you can visit:
THE GERMAN page of my website.
The book hits the streets tomorrow!
|THE GERMAN - Thank you Rue Morgue Magazine!
||[03 Mar 2011|05:28pm]
Canada's most illustrious and all around awesome horrorzine RUE MORGUE has included a review of my novel THE GERMAN in issue #109.
Reviewer Jessa Sobczuk writes:
"The novel establishes such a thick mood of dread and anticipation during its first ten pages that even the bravest readers will need to muster the courage to continue. Those who do will be rewarded with a complex and intriguing plot in which Thomas examines themes of racism and sexual repression amidst a rich portrayal of 1940s Texas - a setting that is as engrossing as it is shockingly abhorrent… As tumultuous as this reality may be for the reader, it makes for a truly thought-provoking and gripping work of fiction.” - Rue Morgue Magazine #109
Many thanks to Jessa and Rue Morgue! I couldn't ask for a better review.
The book releases on the 15th (give or take a day). You can get your copy here:
THE GERMAN at Amazon.
|THE GERMAN - Thank you, PW!
||[21 Feb 2011|04:07pm]
"...[T]he novel's overall thematic power and narrative eloquence are wrenching. Thomas's compelling imagery… and disturbing portrait of humanity at its worst will haunt readers long after the last page is turned."
- Publisher's Weekly
So yeah... very pleased.
The full review can be found here:
|New book. New story.
||[26 Oct 2010|11:26am]
BLOOD SPLATTERED AND POLITICALLY INCORRECT has just been announced by Cemetery Dance. It includes stories by Brian Keene, Del James, Tom Monteleone, and my own, "Testify." Order information below. This one won't last long, so get it while you can!
|GUEST BLOGGER - Nate Southard
||[25 Oct 2010|06:56am]
THE BOOKS THAT MADE ME
By Nate Southard
Hi there. There’s a chance you don’t know who I am. Well, I’m Nate. I’m a writer from Austin, Texas, where the food is amazing and the music is loud. Lee was good enough to let me spend a day on his blog, so that’s why I’m here, jawing at you. Fun, huh?
Today is the first day of my week-long blog tour. Since this is the beginning, I thought it would be a good idea to talk about some of the books that brought me to where I am today. Every writer worth their salt knows what books shaped them. You can tell the crappy writers by what movies shaped them. Most of them can’t be bothered to crack a spine. They just think a book is easier to write than a film is to make.
But enough of my bitching. How about we take a little stroll, and I’ll show you how I went from being a lame little kid to a thirty-three year old horror author (who’s still pretty lame). While I hope you track down these books and give them a shot, this certainly isn’t a “Books Every Writer Needs to Read” list. I’ve listed these in order read, not order published, just so ya know.
SCARY STORIES TO TELL IN THE DARK, by Alvin Schwartz – I actually had the audio cassette of this one, which featured great narration by George S. Irving. It was my first real exposure to any kind of horror fiction that wasn’t presented as a book on “real Life Haunted Houses” or something. These were stories, and they chilled me to the bone. I spent hours listening to Irving read tales like “The Big Toe,” “The Hearse Song,” “Room for One More,” and “High Beams,” and they filled me with the kind of fear you don’t realize is there until it’s dark out and you’re trying to sleep. That’s when you think you hear something outside, maybe something scratching at the window.
ZODIAC, by Robert Graysmith – My mother was a nut for true crime books, and this was one of only a few I read. There’s a reason the Zodiac Killer is the stuff of legend. This book, complete with photocopies of the notes the killer sent to police, horrified me in a way nothing else ever had. To know that the world could contain such evil rocked me. I was only in the sixth grade at the time (yeah, and reading true crime books), and I think this book colored the way I see the world to this day. Because the good guys don’t always catch the bad guys. Sometimes the bad guys just vanish.
NIGHT SHIFT, by Stephen King – Around the time I was reading Zodiac, my good friend George started telling me about the amazing stories in Night Shift. I hadn’t read any King, though I was more than aware of him. My mother, who owned more books than some libraries, had a copy on the shelf next to every other King that had been published at the time. I grabbed it and looked at the table of contents, deciding to read “The Boogeyman.” I didn’t sleep very well that night. When I read “Jerusalem’s Lot” the next day, I spent a few weeks sleeping with the light on.
SWAN SONG, by Robert R. McKammon – I’m convinced there are three kinds of folks in the world: The Stand folks, It folks, and Swan Song folks. I’m in the Swan Song camp. Like many books, I read it because my mother read it, and it looked like a good trip. When I saw a section titled “Hell Freezes Over” I knew I had to read it right away. What I found was an amazing story that combined the epic feel of The Stand with grisly, up-close violence. To this day, I still cringe when I think of things like The Straightjacket Game.
BLUE BELLE, by Andrew Vachss – It took me a while to get into crime fiction, and this fast, brutal piece by Vachss was my christening. I’ve yet to find a writer who can leave me feeling as horrified and grimey as Vachss, and I doubt I ever will. And he does it all with the style of a quick jab right to the throat. I skipped two days of classes when I picked up this book, opting instead to sit in the Barnes and Noble across from campus and read. When I reached the book’s climax, which involves a hand grenade and a guy who’s really asking for it, I stood up and cheered, terrifying the poor folks around me.
MR. FOX AND OTHER FERAL TALES, by Norman Patridge – As gritty as Vachss is, it took Norm Partridge to teach me that you can marry that down in the gutter reality with the kind of horror you normally find on a late night creature feature. I met Norm at World Horror in 2006, and he mailed me a copy of this book a week later. Luckily, I didn’t have any classes to skip. I learned so much from this book, especially rip-snorting stories like “Black Leather Kites.” Norm became one of my first real heroes, and it’s with great pride that I call him a friend today.
THE IMAGO SEQUENCE AND OTHER TALES, by Laird Barron – People were talking about this Laird Barron guy and how he wrote these amazing, vaguely Lovecraftian stories. I picked up this book and read the first story, “Old Virginia.” It went down about how I imagine that first spike of heroin must feel, and I was hooked. Barron’s writing is both dense and crackling, and every single story read like a master class in building dread. Stories like “Bulldozer” and “Procession of the Black Sloth” rank among the best things I’ve ever read. Barron goes beyond weird to something both amazing and terrifying, that sinks hooks deep into your skin and pulls, and I’m going to follow every step of the way. This book, along with the last one in this list, completely changed my approach to writing fiction.
KOKO, by Peter Straub – Here it is. The Holy Grail. I’d been having trouble with a manuscript (in other words, it was bad, and I couldn’t make it good). I met the illustrious Lee Thomas for coffee, and we sat down and discussed its problems. After about an hour, Lee said, “Try reading Koko by Straub.” So I did. And wow. I’d read Straub before, but nothing came close to the slack-jawed feeling of wonder that Koko gave me. From the characters to the plot to just the way his words flow up and down and churn against each other, Koko quickly became my favorite novel of all time. If you haven’t read this story of Vietnam veterans-some broken and some less so-facing an evil from their past, then you’d best grab a copy and get to reading. Everything I write nowadays, I write with Imago and Koko in my heart. I really owe a great debt to Straub and Barron (and a certain Mr. Lee Thomas for recommending the latter) for affecting me so deeply.
So there they are, the books that turned a lame-as-hell kid into a lame-as-hell adult with a taste for the macabre. I hope you enjoyed my little stroll through my memories, and I hope it got you thinking about your favorite books and how much they mean to you.
Next Monday, November 1st, my debut novel Red Sky will be available for pre-order. It’s a gritty, grisly tale of a bank heist gone wrong and the terrible things the perpetrators find while trying to flee through the deserts of New Mexico. If that sounds like your cup of tea, I hope you’ll head over to Thunderstorm Books (http://www.thunderstormbooks.com) and reserve a copy. It’s a limited edition, so there may not be copies available when the book is released early next year.
Thanks for coming out, folks. If you’d like to follow my blog tour, you can find me tomorrow at Paul Tremblay’s place (http://pgtremblay.livejournal.com/) where I’ll be talking about the dark corners where crime and horror converge.
||[19 Oct 2010|01:16pm]
BE MY VICTIM is a new column I'll be doing for SF Signal. It will look at trends, traditions, and aggravations relating to the horror industry. Down the road... there will be blood. Yay!
My first column is with author, minister, and the master of Mo*Con, Maurice Broaddus.
Read on... SF SIGNAL
|TOC for BEST GAY STORIES 2010.
||[14 Oct 2010|12:29pm]
Table of Contents
“Fancy Our Meeting” by Ethan Mordden
“Mercutio’s Romeo” by Anthony McDonald
“Two Tales” by Paul Lisicky
“Loving Tim; or, My Passionate Midlife Affair” by Jeff Mann
“Lonnie Coleman Remembered” by Nowell Briscoe
“Somewhere Nearby” by G. Winston James
“Loneliness and the Sanctuary of Spirit” by Jay Michaelson
“Duncan” by Wayne Hoffman
“It’s Not You” by D Travers Scott
“Auntie Mame” by Lewis DeSimone
“In History’s Vicinity” by Richard Bowes
“Two Sides of the Boy” by Phillip Tang
“CRACK SMOKIN' GRANDPA” by LEE THOMAS*
“Metropolitan” by Marshall Moore
“The Theater Bug” by Jameson Currier
“’Tis Pity He’s Ashore” by Chaz Brenchley
“Pitchers: a Love Story” by Paul Reidinger
“Colin and Gregory: 1956” by Jonathan Kemp
“Death in Venice” by Christopher Bram
“From Jonathan Ascher’s Journals” by Mark Merlis
“So Long Anita Bryant and Thanks for Everything!” by Sean Meriwether
* And yes, my contract stipulates that all references to the title and author name be all-cap, all the time. Kidding. Am I? I am. Really?
Now you don't know where I'm coming from. Buy the book. It'll clear everything up for you.
|KGB - Fantastic Fiction Raffle/Auction
||[10 Oct 2010|04:54pm]
The KGB Reading Series was one of the high points of living in New York. Their annual fund-raising raffle/auction kicks off tonight at midnight (10.11.10) This is a chance for some lucky and/or wealthy individual (if you buy 1000 tickets your chances are real good) to walk away with an ARC of my novel THE GERMAN before many critics get their hands on one. Of course, if anyone wants to send me $1000 for an ARC, we can just skip the middle-folks. But it's for a good cause, so let's not.
Anyway, a brief overview and a link:
Ellen Datlow, Fantastic Fiction at KGB co-host,
Email: Datlow [at] datlow [dot] com,
Matthew Kressel, Fantastic Fiction at KGB co-host,
Email: matt [at] sensesfive [dot] com
The hosts of the Fantastic Fiction at KGB reading series in New York City are holding a raffle to support the series. Well-known professionals have donated prizes (see Partial List of Prizes below), which will be raffled off in October. All proceeds from the raffle will help support the reading series, which has been a bright star in the speculative fiction community for more than a decade.
Raffle tickets will cost one dollar US ($1) and can be purchased at www.kgbfantasticfiction.org. You may purchase as many tickets as you want. Tickets will be available from October 11th, 2010 through October 25th, 2010. Sales will close at midnight (Eastern Daylight Time) on October 25th, and shortly afterward, winners will be drawn randomly from a digital “hat” and announced on the web. Prizes will be mailed to the lucky winners by the donors. (See a more detailed explanation in Raffle Rules).
Partial List of Prizes (a full list is available at the website)
* Signed copies of INSIDE STRAIGHT, BUSTED FLUSH, and SUICIDE KINGS by George R.R. Martin
* Your very own wormhole, with a certificate of authenticity by physicist Michio Kaku
* A used keyboard by Neil Gaiman signed to the winner
* A signed partial early draft of a manuscript by William Gibson
* A carnivorous plant terrarium
* A Tuckerization by Richard Bowes
* One copy of each of the twelve titles published by ChiZine press in 2010
* Barry Goldblatt will critique your YA or middle-grade novel query
* Jeff & Ann VanderMeer are donating a signed copy of THE KOSHER GUIDE TO IMAGINARY ANIMALS along with a nice ceramic candy bowl, for use with your Candied Cthulhu bits! (recipe included)
* Two drawings by Tom Canty
* A session with Peter Straub’s masseuse
* A session with Ellen Datlow’s reflexologist
* A signed copy of THE WAY OF THE WIZARD, edited by John Joseph Adams
* And dozens more prizes on the website…
About KGB Fantastic Fiction
KGB Fantastic Fiction is a monthly reading series held on the third Wednesday of every month at the famous KGB Bar in Manhattan, hosted by Ellen Datlow and Matthew Kressel. The reading series features luminaries and up-and-comers in speculative fiction. Admission is always free.
Link takes you to the page for THE GERMAN, but you can navigate easily to all the other goodies:
||[07 Oct 2010|03:12pm]
The Year to Date:
"Flicker" - HORROR LIBRARY, VOL. 4
"The Fall of the Mountain King," SPECTERS IN COAL DUST (Woodland Press), edited by Michael Knost
“Nothing Forgiven” - DARKNESS ON THE EDGE, edited by Harrison Howe (PS Publishing).
“Inside Where It’s Warm” – DEAD SET, edited by Michelle McCrary and Joe McKinney (23 House).
IN THE CLOSET, UNDER THE BED (Dark Scribe Press) - Finalist for the Lambda Literary Award and the Bram Stoker Award.
THE BLACK SUN SET – Novelette (Burning Effigy Press)
CRISIS - Novella (Kindle exclusive)
"Dean Koontz's WATCHERS" - THRILLERS: 100 MUST READS.
THE GERMAN (Lethe Press), March, 2011.
"Comfortable in Her Skin," SUPERNATURAL NOIR, edited by Ellen Datlow (Dark Horse Books).
"Swapping Head: Hellbent" - BUTCHER KNIVES AND BODY COUNTS (Dark Scribe Press)
FOCUS (co-written with Nate Southard) – Novella
STAINED - My Bram Stoker Award Winning Debut.
PARISH DAMNED - Critically-acclaimed novella.
Plus - Several more short story sales and projects I'm not supposed to talk about.
|Jurors Announced for the 2010 Shirley Jackson Awards.
||[04 Oct 2010|08:34am]
THE SHIRLEY JACKSON AWARDS
For Immediate Release
Contact: JoAnn F. Cox
Jurors announced for
The 2010 Shirley Jackson Awards
Boston, MA (September 2010) -- In recognition of the legacy of Shirley Jackson’s writing, and with permission of the author’s estate, the Shirley Jackson Awards have been established for outstanding achievement in the literature of psychological suspense, horror, and the dark fantastic.
The Shirley Jackson Awards are voted upon by a jury of professional writers, editors, critics, and academics, with input from a Board of Advisors. The awards are given for the best work published in the preceding calendar year in the following categories: Novel, Novella, Novelette, Short Story, Single-Author Collection, and Edited Anthology.
The jurors for the 2010 Shirley Jackson Awards are, alphabetically:
Andy Duncan, an inaugural Shirley Jackson Award nominee for his story "Unique Chicken Goes in Reverse"; winner of the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award and two World Fantasy Awards, one of them for his debut collection, Beluthahatchie and Other Stories (Golden Gryphon Press); second collection forthcoming, The Pottawatomie Giant and Other Stories, (PS Publishing, 2011); English faculty at Frostburg State University in Maryland.
Gemma Files, winner of an International Horror Guild Best Short Fiction Award for her story "The Emperor's Old Bones"; author of two collections of short stories (Kissing Carrion and The Worm in Every Heart, both Prime Books), two chapbooks of poetry, and a novel (A Book of Tongues, ChiZine Publications).
Helen Oyeyemi, author of The Icarus Girl and The Opposite House, which was short-listed for the 2008 Hurston/Wright Legacy Award for Fiction; winner of a 2010 Somerset Maugham award for White is for Witching, her third novel.
Lee Thomas, the Bram Stoker Award and the Lambda Literary Award-winning author of Stained (Wildside Press), Parish Damned (Telos Publishing), and The Dust of Wonderland (Alyson Books); author of numerous short stories, including the collection In the Closet, Under the Bed (Dark Scribe Press); forthcoming titles include The Black Sun Set, Focus, Torn, and The German.
David Wellington, author of zombie novels Monster Island, Monster Nation and Monster Planet (Thunder’s Mouth Press); and vampire novels, including Thirteen Bullets, Ninety-Nine Coffins, Vampire Zero and Twenty-Three Hours; a werewolf series, including Frostbite (Three Rivers Press) and continuing with Overwinter.
The Board of Advisors for the Shirley Jackson Awards includes editor Bill Congreve; author and critic, Stefan Dziemianowicz; award-winning author and critic, Elizabeth Hand; renowned scholar and editor S.T. Joshi; author and teacher Jack M. Haringa (co-editor, with Joshi, of the critical journal Dead Reckonings); author and founder Sarah Langan; author Mike O’Driscoll; author and founder Paul Tremblay; award-winning and best-selling author Peter Straub; editor Ann VanderMeer; and award-winning and best-selling novelist Stewart O’Nan. In 2010, founders and former jurors F. Brett Cox and John Langan join this illustrious group.
Shirley Jackson (1916-1965) wrote such classic novels as The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle, as well as one of the most famous short stories in the English language, “The Lottery.” Her work continues to be a major influence on writers of every kind of fiction, from the most traditional genre offerings to the most innovative literary work. National Book Critics Circle Award-winning novelist Jonathan Lethem has called Jackson “one of this century’s most luminous and strange American writers,” and multiple generations of authors would agree.
Media representatives who are seeking further information or interviews should contact JoAnn F. Cox.
|A Public Service Announcement for My Stalkers.
||[28 Sep 2010|08:52pm]
October 16, 2010 at
5775 Airport Blvd.
BLOOD OF THE BEAN II
5:00 – 5:15 Denise Broussard
5:15 – 5:30 Ethan Nahate
5:30 – 5:45 Frank Summers
5:45 – 6:00 Stina Leicht
6:00 – 6:15 D.B. Grady
6:15 – 6:30 Rhodi Hawk
6:30 – 6:45 Hank Schwaeble
6:45 – 7:00 Robert Stikmanz
7:00 – 7:45 Dear Lioness
7:45 – 8:00 Skylar White
8:00 – 8:15 Gabrielle Faust
8:15 – 8:30 Joe McKinney
8:30 – 8:45 Nate Southard
8:45 – 9:00 Lee Thomas
It'll be crazy-awesome to see Rhodi again. It's been too long.
|Pre-Orders now being taken for SPECTERS IN COAL DUST
||[18 Sep 2010|01:17pm]
SPECTERS IN COAL DUST, edited by Michael Knost and published by Woodland Press, is now available for pre-order. The book contains my story, "The Fall of the Mountain King," plus work by a lot of friends and great writers. Check out the table of contents and get your order in here:
SPECTERS IN COAL DUST
||most recent entries