Guest Post: 6 Purr-fect Cat Movies Based on Books by Vanessa Morgan

Do you think cats rule the internet? Wait until you see how they dominate the silver screen—especially when their movies are inspired by books. 

To celebrate the release of my book Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies, I'm diving into six unforgettable feline flicks that started as books.

Meow! dives much further into these six films and many others, with many behind-the-scenes insights, fun facts, and plenty of feline flair. It's the ultimate guide to all things cat cinema.

6 Purr-fect Cat Movies Based on Books

By Vanessa Morgan

1) Kiki's Delivery Service (1989)

Based on the novel by Eiko Kadono, Kiki's Delivery Service is a charming coming-of-age tale about a young witch navigating independence. Kiki’s black cat, Jiji, is her constant companion, offering sarcastic quips, loyal support, and comic relief throughout her delivery adventures. Jiji isn’t just a sidekick; he represents Kiki’s inner voice, grappling with doubts and confidence as she grows. Studio Ghibli’s adaptation perfectly captures the heart of this story, with Jiji stealing the spotlight as one of cinema’s most lovable feline characters.

 2) Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End (2024)

This recent horror film, adapted from the novel by Manel Loureiro, takes the zombie apocalypse genre to a chilling new level—and a cat plays a surprisingly pivotal role. In a world overrun by the undead, the protagonist’s tabby is a loyal companion that offers comfort and a sense of normalcy in a world descending into chaos. The cat’s presence in Apocalypse Z highlights the human need for connection and hope, even in the darkest times.

 3) The Three Lives of Thomasina (1963)

Based on Paul Gallico’s heartwarming novel, this Disney classic tells the story of a little girl, her veterinarian father, and their beloved cat, Thomasina. Narrated by the cat herself, the film explores her three “lives” as she connects the fractured family and helps them rediscover love and compassion. Thomasina’s role is both magical and deeply emotional, embodying themes of forgiveness and healing.

 

4) Morgiana (1972)

Adapted from Alexander Grin’s gothic novel Jessie and Morgiana, this Czech psychological thriller is a tale of envy and deception, where a mysterious feline plays a hauntingly symbolic role. The feline is a representation of guilt and justice (much like in Edgar Allan Poe's short story “The Black Cat”), mirroring the sinister undertones of a sibling rivalry that spirals into murder.

5) Felidae (1994)

Based on Akif Pirinçci’s novel, this German animated neo-noir film is anything but your typical cartoon. Francis, the feline protagonist, is a detective who uncovers a sinister conspiracy while investigating gruesome cat murders. Intelligent, gritty, and surprisingly philosophical, Felidae explores themes of morality, power, and survival, all through the eyes of its feline characters. 

6) The Cat (1992)

This Hong Kong cult classic, adapted from Ni Kuang’s book series, blends sci-fi, horror, and martial arts into a bizarre yet entertaining cinematic experience. The story centers on an alien cat and its human allies as they fight a malevolent extraterrestrial force. The Cat is without a doubt the craziest cat movie ever made.

Final Thoughts

Cats have captured our hearts in books, movies, and just about everything else! Luckily, these six cat movies based on books are just the beginning of what’s out there. Whether you’re a fan of spooky stories, sci-fi escapades, or charming magical journeys, there’s no shortage of feline-inspired entertainment. Plus, you’ll find all of these films—and over 200 other cat-centric tales—in Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies, your ultimate guide to the world of feline cinema.

Now it’s your turn—what’s your favorite cat movie or book? Is there a feline hero or literary kitty with a special place in your heart? Share your pick in the comments!

About Vanessa Morgan

VANESSA MORGAN is the editor of When Animals Attack: The 70 Best Horror Movies with Killer Animals, Strange Blood: 71 Essays on Offbeat and Underrated Vampires Movies, Evil Seeds: The Ultimate Movie Guide to Villainous Children, and Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies. She also published one cat memoir (Avalon) and four supernatural thrillers (Drowned Sorrow, The Strangers Outside, A Good Man, and Clowders). Three of her stories became movies. She also introduces movie screenings at several European cinemas and film festivals and is a programmer for the Offscreen Film Festival in Brussels. When she is not writing, you will probably find her eating out or taking photos of felines for her website, Traveling Cats.

 

Wasteland: The Great War and the Origins of Modern Horror by W Scott Poole

What W Scott Poole does so well with Wasteland, is draw the parallels between World War I and the lasting impact it made on the West's collective psyche in terms of how horror, as a genre, has developed. I will admit that I've not watched nearly as many of the early horror films as I should have, but the connections that Poole makes with the awfulness that has been inflicted on Europe during the 20th century are impossible to ignore – especially the examination of how individuals give way to creative expression in the wake of their experiences of warfare or its aftereffects. 

If we consider how the human body was brutalised, depersonalised, it's easy to see this echoed in the rise of body horror and, of course, those perennial favourites such as the vampire and the zombie that continue to stalk the outskirts of our cultural objects. He goes into great depth, for instance, in a discussion of J'accuse (1919) where zombies made their debut, incidentally employing survivors from conflict to appear on screen. We gain glimpses into the creative genius of the likes of Fritz Lang, Murnau, Tod Brown, TS Eliot, Arthur Machen, and Franz Kafka, among many others who would have had first-hand experiences either on the battlefield or in a society distorted by the ripples caused by war.

Poole is clearly not only invested in the vast body of film and literature of the time that he discusses, but he is incredibly erudite and passionate in how he expands upon the subject. The audiobook is narrated by Andrew Eiden, who most certainly does justice to the subject matter, and helps contribute to an engaging listener experience.

There is no glorification of battle here, but rather a deep dive into the horrors of warfare – something that is all too easily glossed over by history books when we do not pause to consider the high individual cost in armed conflict. At times, Poole steps away from mere historian to make emotive observations, but overall, Wasteland is a veritable treasure trove that has inspired me to read and view more broadly.

If you're looking for a starting point in the horror genre in general, you can't go wrong with this book. I thoroughly enjoyed this and feel like I have a greater understanding of the genre in general – and certainly have more context for the works that I have already dipped into.

A Thing Immortal: A Tale of Western Horror by Barry K Gregory

I'm a huge fan of indie books. I've found, of late, that the stories I encounter in them are often far more inventive and unconventional than what I find with their traditionally published brethren. A Thing Immortal by Barry K Gregory is one such book. This story is a glorious mashup of the American West that exists only in popular culture with horror – that's the best way to explain it. I picked it up last year when it was a contender in SPFBO.

Gregory plays loose and fast with history to concentrate rather on a story of gradually unfolding mystery and dark terrors, as we follow the doings of a small handful of characters that include a Native man who can fly on borrowed wings, an old gunslinger, a Black bounty hunter, and a mysterious girl. Oh, and a massive spirit wolf. 

I think what I liked the most about the story was that it didn't pull its punches. There's some seriously dark stuff happening here, reminiscent of early Stephen King, that left me feeling gritty behind the eyes. And I liked the fact that Gregory doesn't explain everything – he leaves much up for me to fill in the gaps, which is something else I appreciate. Yeah, so Trigger Warning time, there is some seriously Bad Stuff that happens to the girl (as can be expected in the context of the story's setting), but it's not on screen so to speak (thank dog) but if mention of this sort of thing in a story does bother you, perhaps this one is not for you. Beyond that, the setting is pretty brutal in how all minorities are handled, so be warned, there are people doing and saying things that wouldn't fly in a more civilised setting.

This is a solid read, and while there were a few little typo gremlins here and there, they didn't harm my overall enjoyment of a solid story that wraps with an almost Gaimanesque conclusion.

The Whistling by Rebecca Netley

I don't read nearly as much horror as I used to, so when The Whistling by Rebecca Netley landed on my TBR pile, I really did look forward to sinking into a suitably unnerving bit of gothic horror. The story, however, could belong to nearly every other gothic horror novel or film released in the past hundred years or so, with a number of checkboxes that include: an isolated Scottish island; an orphaned nanny with a tragic past; a little girl whose twin brother has died under mysterious circumstances; surly locals; a spooky old house with strange goings-on ... You catch my drift, I'm sure.

We follow the doings of Elspeth Swansome, who accepts a post in the fictional Scottish isle of Skelthsea. Her charge is the rather troubled little girl Mary, whose brother William (whom no one, apparently, liked much) died. Her parents are dead, too, and since her brother's passing, she has not spoken a word.

Almost immediately, Elspeth runs afoul of some of the locals, and although she does not at first believe in the supernatural, the spooky phenomena eventually bring her around. She soon realises that nothing is what it seems, and with little else to do but care for a child she comes to love as though she were her own, Elspeth must also untangle the mysterious and tragic past that enshrouds the house and its inhabitants.

I'm not going to go into too much detail for fear of spoilers, but I am going to critique the things that bugged me. Netley's writing is what I would term adequate, so she carries the story well, but the pacing lags considerably. She spends much time creating mood and atmosphere, for which I must give credit where it's due. But then the story gets bogged down in piles of red herrings. When I started reading, I called what the big bad was (possibly based on the fact that I've read and watched a pile of horror in my time) and guess what? I was right. 

While the use of horror tropes to build tension isn't necessarily bad, it's when they're the ones you can see coming from a mile away, including jump scares (which somehow don't quite work in fiction, let's be honest) I didn't find any of the devices used to build tension or terror at all terrifying or effective. I'd hazard to say that this book felt like an amalgamation of every Gothic horror or mystery already in existence, that has been cherry picked for suitable narrative elements. No fresh ground is covered, in other words.

I'd say that if you are new to the horror or Gothic genres, you might find this work fresh and suitably chilling, but alas, I admit my jaded palate has already tasted many similar and better executed flavours over the years. At times I felt that this book would have been better served as a movie than the written word, where the mood and atmosphere could truly come into its own.

Tales of Terror by Edgar Allan Poe, narrated by David Thorn, Bruce Blau

It's time for me to make yet another awful admission. I've made it past 40+ years on this planet without reading much of Edgar Allan Poe's writing. If I recall correctly, I read "The Black Cat" when I was a wee little thing, but I don't think it stuck with me. Tales of Terror by Edgar Allan Poe, narrated by David Thorn and Bruce Blau was included in my Audible subscription, so I figured why the heck not. 

Included in this batch were the following stories: "The Tell Tale Heart", "Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar", "Hop Frog", "Murders in the Rue Morgue", "Masque of the Red Death", "The Pit and the Pendulum", "Fall of the House of Usher", "The Black Cat", and "The Cask of Amontillado".

So, in other words, all the great classics. My big takeaway from this is that Mr Poe has a bunch of favourite words, some of which include "ghastly", "grotesque" and "hideous", among many others, and he had an especial love for describing the beating of hearts of the horror of staring into eyes.

I will admit that as a cat lover, I found "The Black Cat" hard going – more so this time around than when I first read it. "Masque of the Red Death" was oddly apt for the times in which we live. Overall, I appreciated delving into these tales, as the prose is slow-moving, highly descriptive, and layered. Dark, of course, too, which is a bonus. And very much what I would term Gothic fiction.

The production quality was a bit patchy in places – I could clearly hear where extra bits were dropped in, as there was variance in the sound which jumped out at me enough for me to feel the need to comment. Some of the accents the narrators put on also grated on me a wee bit. Not enough to toss the iPhone across the kitchen, but enough to raise a brow.

If you're looking to add to your literary experiences, this is a good introduction to Poe's writing. And I can say that it very much comes alive as spoken word – to get past the author's general wordiness, that is. And he does take a while to get to a point – but then the writing is very much a product of its time, which is something to be kept in mind.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

I have a terrible admission to make. In all my years, up until the tender age of 43, I had never read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Yes, I know. Unforgivable. Especially if you consider how iconic the character is in terms of how the monster has permeated Western culture in fiction and cinema. Chances are also good, that many of you might've seen the creature on screen rather than leap off the pages of the source material. And I'll add here that loads of people didn't quite get the nuance of Shelley's story when we peel back the layers to understand who the real monster is.

Hint: It's not the creature.

At least, that's not how I see it.

What makes Frankenstein or, as it's also known, The Modern Prometheus, even more amazing is that Shelley started writing it at the tender age of 18, and it was published when she was 20, in 1818. How many of us can boast such a feat? Hells, I only finished my first novel after I turned 30. And it certainly wasn't even a touch near the mastery that Shelley boasts.

Frankenstein is a classic example of a Gothic novel, and I'd hazard to argue that it firmly straddles both the science-fiction and horror genres, and if you're serious about writing SFF, it's one of those works that is an absolute must to have delved into if you consider yourself an author who has earned their chops.

I haven't had as much time as I'd have liked to sit down and read the novel, but was able to pick up a copy included in my Audible subscription – a win. So I'd like to give a massive shout-out to the narrator, Dan Stevens, who did an absolutely amazing job with his characterisation of not only Victor Frankenstein, but the creature, and also Captain Walton, all of whom are important narrators.

Each has a particular viewpoint of the situation as unreliable narrators of the story: Frankenstein in his hubris and denial in his role as creator; the creature in his failed quest for personhood; and Walton as an impartial observer who introduces and ties up the story. 

There's much more to this story than merely a mad scientist playing god – if you delve deeper, it's a look at what makes us truly human, the capacity to reason, to feel pain. On a meta-level, it can even be viewed as a story that shakes its fist at an uncaring, unfeeling and selfish god who creates without care for his creations. And, also, a cautionary tale of not taking anyone or any situation at face value – with far-reaching consequences. 

I kept asking myself: what if Victor had not recoiled in horror? How different would this story have been? Instead, I found myself growing increasingly angry with the man in his hubris and denial in his role for having created this monster. Yes, yes, there'd have been no story otherwise, but I couldn't help but feel for the wretched monster so desperate to find love and acceptance. 

If you, like me, have yet to give this story a spin in its original format, but don't have the time to read, then I wholeheartedly recommend this edition from Audible. It's incredibly well produced and Shelley's writing is nothing short of magnificent. 

Dracul by Dacre Stoker and JD Barker

With the slew of vampires cropping up in fiction over the past while, it's a pleasant change to return to a story that has all the hallmarks of the classic that helped spawn the genre. Even better that it's Bram Stoker's great-grandnephew, Dacre Stoker, who, informed with access to primary source materials, has guided the direction that Dracul has taken. 

The novel starts with a twenty-one-year-old Bram Stoker who's in a spot of bother in a tower of a ruined abbey, and to a degree it might seem somewhat contrived for someone who's in a tight spot having the wherewithal to scribble down the events that have led up to his current predicament, the story is quite cleverly put together. Much like Dracula, it's made up of letters and journal entries, jumping between past and present to delve deeper into the story that has been a staple of horror for more than a century.

Blending elements of mystery with horror, our protagonists – Bram and his siblings, along with a handful of accomplices – find themselves on an unexpected quest that sees them make some unlikely allies. I can't say any more for fear of spoilers, but I was soon invested in how the story plays out.

In tone and styling, Dracul is very much the epitome of a Gothic novel, bursting at the seams with ruinous abbeys and bloodthirsty monsters. The supernatural elements creep in gradually, and while very little terrifies me these days, I appreciated the twists and loops this story follows before it hurtles towards its conclusion. If you're familiar with the original text of Bram Stoker's Dracula, then Dracul will offer a worthy deeper dive into the legend that is sure to please fans.

Instafrights: Short horror stories for the busy gentle(wo)man by John Loc

We don't often have long, uninterrupted stretches of time in which we can sink into a novel, so the aptly titled Instafrights: Short horror stories for the busy gentle(wo)man by John Loc is just right for those of you who want those little snippets of disquiet.

I'm not going to go into great depth with every story, otherwise I'll be here all day, but I enjoyed reading two or three of the stories at a time, then coming back later when I had a moment. Loc's writing style is engaging, with a subtle dark twist of humour that made me giggle every so often. He excels in subverting the everyday, walking that fine line between being deliberately mysterious and paying out just enough information to give a story its sting right at the end. Some tales are just a few paragraphs, but he has a few longer pieces of flash fiction near the end. Instafrights, as the name suggests, is a fun selection of little dark dabs of fiction.

Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories edited by Doug Murano and D Alexander Ward

Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories, edited by Doug Murano and D Alexander Ward, most certainly gave me a little of everything to enjoy, though there were a fair number that I felt weren't necessarily horror so much as simply dark fiction. The mood is apt to change – some tales are quite literary and magical, while others give more of that visceral gut punch one expects from a good horror tale. While I'm not going to go into exhaustive detail with every story, I will highlight those that stood out for me.

"Arbeit Macht Frei" by Lisa Mannetti isn't a story I'd necessarily classify as horror in the traditional sense – though I feel it delves deeper into the horror that we ourselves are capable of rather. Our narrator is a Jew in a death camp with her mother, acting as a nurse's aide. And it's how she copes, atones for betraying her mother even for fear of repercussions.

"Water Thy Bones" by Mercedes M Yardley is a glorious riot of gore – as a victim and killer fall in love and express their devotion in the act of dismemberment. It's not so much that the trope is new – but the writing is lush.

Something that I'd not expected to find in an anthology was a choose-your-own-adventure style story. "A Haunted House is a Wheel Upon Which Some are Broken by Paul Tremblay offers the suggestion that the true horror of the story lies in the way that it loops – you, as reader, are incapable of escaping.

"Repent" by Richard Thomas is darkly rich... A corrupt cop makes a deal with the devil to save his son from cancer. The price is his surrender to the corruption in order for the son to live and for him to be expunged from their lives forever. What I liked about this was the ambiguity. Unsure whether we're dealing with madness or supernatural agents.

There is a reason why Clive Barker is considered a master of this genre (and I'd argue that he crosses genres effortlessly and subverts them at will). "Coming to Grief" is lyrical, evocative. Miriam's mom has died, and she returns to pack up her home. As the title suggests, this is all about facing death personified in the Bogey on the walk above the quarry. I love the ambiguity – you're never sure whether the Bogey is real or an imagined personification of grief.

As with all anthologies, I suspect different readers will like stories for their own reasons. Not all the tales collected here impacted me, but if you're looking for an eminently readable anthology of dark fiction that will do the job of unsettling you, then I figure the editors have certainly done their job right.

In Conversation with Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso

An anthology that's worth looking out for when it comes for available, Lights Out: Resurrection features a crop of African authors of horror and dark speculative fiction, edited by Wole Tabali. Today I welcome Ezeiyoke Chukwunoso for a little Q&A.

I realise we know very little about each other. Tell me more about you and what you love writing.

I am Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso, a charter member of African Speculative Society. My collection of short stories, Haunted Grave and Other Stories was published by Parallel Universe Publications during August this year. Prior to that, I have published stories in anthologies such as Emanation: 2+2=5, Emanation: Foray into Forever, Future Lovecraft, Lost Tales from the Mountain: Halloween Anthology Vol. II., African Roar and in so many other places. I was shortlisted in IdeasTap Inspires: Writers' Centre Norwich Writing competition, Ghana Poetry Prize, and Quickfox Poetry Competition. 

I love to write horror, fantasy and science fiction stories although not hard sci-fi. I write literary fiction too but tend to love genre fiction more.

Apart from fiction writing, I am a literary critic and I investigate literature with the lens of a philosopher. I developed a penchant for this during my BA where I majored in philosophy. I discovered that most of contemporary African Literature is useful, functionalist. It is an art that has a socio-political or anthropological relevance. If it did not tend to fight colonialism, it was post-colonialism or it was written with a moral education in view. Practically, art for art's sake, aestheticism was an endangered species. Critics like Achebe, Senghor, Ngugi wa Thiong’o favoured this. Achebe said ‘I would be quite satisfied if my novels (especially the ones I set in the past) did no more than teach my readers that their past – with all its imperfections was not one long night of savagery from which the first Europeans acting on God’s behalf delivered them. Perhaps what I write is applied art as distinct from pure. But who cares?’ And I discovered that that sort of metaphysical assumption made literature predictable and more so hindered aestheticism and the development of genre fiction in Africa for a long time. My writing and research were to propose a better metaphysical assumption that will foster the growth of literature in which art for art sake is prior to functionalism. I have published essays about this in Episteme Journal, and Savvy Journal of Contemporary African Arts.

How does living in Africa inform your writing? Tell me more about your environment, and a day in your life. 

Most of my stories are based in Enugu State in Nigeria where I grew up. In as much as fiction relies on the imagination, I often like to write about setting I am familiar with, a place I can manipulate. I like to have a strong sense of a place in my writing. Apart from the setting, my writing is often influenced by the oral and mythical thoughts of the Igbo people in Nigeria, mainly with regard to religion. I have been fascinated with religion since I was a child, once I was in the seminary hoping to become a Catholic priest. *Laughing* Religion in Nigeria and its superstition still hooks me more than ever although now intellectually. And it is this superstition and the fear inherent in it that I explore often in my horror or fantasy writing.

I currently live in Manchester. My house is near a park. I love the park. I often sit there watching people playing with their dogs. I am still wondering why I haven’t owned a dog yet.

What are you reading at the moment?

I am reading Making Wolf by Tade Thompson. I recently reviewed his Rosewater and I fall in love with his writing especially the pacing, quick page turning. Azanian Bridges by Nick Wood is what I am currently reading whenever I am commuting on the bus. I like reading on the bus, makes the journey quicker. I will be reviewing it soon. I just finished reading Dark Lullaby by Jessica Palmer, I am writing the review currently. Horrorology edited by Stephen Jones is on my bedside. I read bits of it to sleep.

Tell us more about your story as it appears in Lights Out: Resurrection.

"Eaters of Flesh" was inspired by a real event. A relative was undergoing a depression that came with some mental issue. There was this allusion among her family members that what was wrong with her was a demonic attack. Seeking for a scientific medical aid was taken out of the option. Anyway, she later met a psychologist, had a professional help and recovered. The incident, however, stayed with me and formed the basis for the story, "Eaters of Flesh".  The story appeared first in my short story collection, Haunted Grave and Other Stories. 

What are you writing at the moment?

I am working on my debut novel. The first chapter of the novel actually is the story that appeared in the Lights Out: Resurrection. In between the novel, I research on my philosophical essays on literature. I am writing a couple of short stories too. 

The Shining (1980) #review

A family heads to an isolated hotel for the winter where an evil and spiritual presence influences the father into violence, while his psychic son sees horrific forebodings from the past and of the future.

I have a terrible admission to make – but better late than never, amiright? I only watched The Shining for the first time this year. Yes. I’ve been lurking around on this planet for more than 30 years and I’d NEVER EVER EVER watched this masterpiece by Stanley Kubrick.

Also, I absolutely loathe Jack Nicholson. I don’t know what it is about him – his face, his voice. I agree he’s a fantastic actor but he makes my flesh crawl and he was perfect for this role as Jack Torrance, the author who simply cannot get into his novel. The true star of this film is his long-suffering wife Wendy, who somehow keeps it all together when everyone else around her is going completely stark-raving bonkers. Little Danny’s premonitions are creepy, but even creepier still is the location.

Kudos to the set dressers and builders – the interiors of the Overlook Hotel are phenomenal and a fitting tribute to all that is awful about late-1970s décor. Kubrick manages to make me feel horrifically claustrophobic and paranoid all at once. Trapped like Jack and his family, we can only sit back and watch how Jack spirals into madness, and we know things aren’t going to end well. All the while poor, dear Wendy comes to realise she needs to get herself and her son out of this place – easier said than done when the inevitable blizzard cuts them off from the rest of this world. And she’s resilient, tenacious, and she’s a mother who’s absolutely terrified beyond all belief yet she just doesn’t give up.

Yep, there are the tropes, like the magical negro and the psychic children tropes, but Kubrick plays them well. Besides, the tormented author with writers’ block is possibly one of the oldest literary tropes in the box.

I’ve heard so many people go on and on about why this film is a pinnacle of its art, and I can see why. Everything holds together – the tension, the dialogue, the characterisation. I’ll be honest and say it’s not my sort of film because I’m a shallow creature with simple tastes for nubile androgynous elves, but I watched it from start to finish without even getting distracted by my social media feeds because it was simply perfection. The horror is at times subtle, be it the growing sense of menace of a toxic environment or it’s overt, shocking in the flashes of atrocities that Kubrick depicts. (Let me not remember that hotel in Ireland where I had to hang my bedspread over the multiple mirrors before I could get to sleep.)

I’m also aware that this film has been picked apart to death by film aficionados who’ve read all sorts of meaning into things, and that in itself is a fascinating topic to delve into if you’ve got time to waste. Go trawl YouTube if you number among the idly curious. And if you’re a sad old fart like me who waited until her late-30s to see this film… I’m just going to shake my head at you. Watch this fucking film. Seriously.

No. I haven't read the fucking book yet. I'll get there. When I'm 50.

Ashley Franz Holzmann talks horror... #guest

Today I hand over my blog to yet another guest. This time it's author Ashley Franz Holzmann, author of The Laws of Nature, who's here to shed a little light on horror... Wait, can I even say that? Ah well, without further ado... Welcome, Ashley!

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Horror is always shifting to fit the times and the masses. Stephen King wrote about this in his book Dance Macabre, where he discussed how the scariest movies are often the most topical. Horror feeds into the current fears of the populace. Invasion of the Body Snatchers came out at a crucial time. Communism! Get it?!

Sorry, that's not really supposed to be sarcastic. I really love that movie.

My point is that horror evolves. There are always trends that shift this way or that. What makes horror good is risk. Taking risk and being honest. Night of The Living Dead had a black protagonist and used the ending of the film to really say something about race. That was a risk. Carrie was written by a man (our friend, Stephen) and has a scene where a girl gets her period in public. Now that is taboo; that was a risk!

These days, the genre is a little stuck in the cinema. Sequels are are big thing right now. There are some cool ideas, but the goal of a sequel is to build a franchise, so there's only so much risk involved when marketing is just as important as storytelling. The real risks are happening online.

Forums like /r/nosleep and creepypasta.com are leading the way in horror for the masses. Stories are told and voted against. If a story isn't scary enough, the comments section is open and the writer is told that the story was too generic, or has been told before, or just wasn't scary. The stories with the most votes and likes are the original ideas. Incentive is becoming a part of the game. The number of 5-star reviews on Amazon matters more than the sequel (though many writers love taking the road of forming their own book series these days), and upvotes are gold to the ego of the modern horror writer on the internet.

There's a shift in the genre that's happening underneath our noses. Sure, Hollywood is doing their thing and the big players of the horror community are still writing and filming and creating; but under the mainstream is the small horror communities that are growing and transforming the genre into a battle over originality. The more creative a story is, the more is gets praised. The more original it is, the more the internet loves the change of pace. Over-saturation has created a modern horror reader that doesn't have time for a story they've read 20 times before. They want new twists, or new ways to receive that twist. Readers want to be impressed.

Being a writer, I'm given the puzzle. It can be very fulfilling to feel like I've cracked the code on a story idea. Writing to make the reader feel a certain way, or to give them a moment in the story where I think I can really connect with them. That's the goal now. The goal is to create real emotions, real stories, to take risks and let the reader see something and think "wow." Horror can be beautiful. Horror can be depressing. Horror can be what we want it to be--because it's a raw genre, and in this era the successful writers are the writers who understand that risk and originality are the way to get people to care about what you have to say.

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Ashley Franz Holzmann was born in Okinawa, Japan and raised in a variety of countries while his parents served in the Air Force. He considered attending art school, but is instead a graduate of West Point, where he enjoyed intramural grappling and studying systems engineering and military history. He majored in sociology and is currently a captain in the Army. Ashley speaks Korean, enjoys backpacking, and is the cook in his family. He currently lives in North Carolina with his wife, two sons, and their two dogs. His first book, The Laws of Nature is available on Amazon and all other major digital platforms.

The Three by Sarah Lotz #review

Title: The Three
Author: Sarah Lotz
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton, 2014

If there’s one thing (of the many) that Sarah Lotz does well, it’s her ability to portray characters using minimal brushstrokes and plenty of wry, black humour, and in The Three, she is in her element.

Presented to readers in the form of a non-fiction account set within a novel, The Three consists mainly of interviews and transcriptions of chats, with some commentary from the “author”. Overall, the narrative comes across more as sensationalised non-fiction that reminds me an awful lot of how Max Brooks approached World War Z.

The bare bones of The Three follows the people and events linked to a fictional disaster known as Black Thursday, when four passenger planes crashed at various sites all around the globe, one of which was the eerie Sea of Trees in Japan (known as a suicide hotspot).

Lotz gloriously mashes up existing horror tropes, society’s fascination with conspiracy theories, religious fanaticism, and possible psychosis then blends in a little media frenzy in her signature discomforting style. No one knows why the planes went down (and there’s ample conjecture) nor does anyone know why there were three (or possibly four) children as sole survivors. Other strange, inexplicable events occur, some seemingly coincidental (or not), but because we are only presented with the limited viewpoints of unreliable narrators, further edited by an unreliable “author” – the character Elspeth – as compiler, we are left with a multiplicity of possible truths, none of which are satisfactory.

And therein lies the rub, and what I feel makes The Three as effective as it is: Lotz leaves readers with more questions than answers, almost guaranteeing in further discussion because opinions on The Three will differ, and differ widely. What remained with me the most was the visceral ugliness that lies just beneath the surface of the individuals portrayed. The true horror of this novel is not so much the possibility of an actual supernatural origin and the constant ooze of brooding menace, but rather the uncompromising darkness of the human condition. We are perfectly capable of generating our own hell – and Lotz has offered us ringside seats.

The follow-up to The Three, Day Four, is due for release in May, and I eagerly await this next instalment. The Three sees Lotz in top form and fully deserving of the praise she received from the grandpappy of contemporary horror – Stephen King himself.

On Alien and Aliens #film

For me this story starts when I was in primary school, back in the mid- to late-1980s in South Africa. We were at the arse end of the world thanks to apartheid, so my gentle readers, you must understand that we were always a little slow to get the good stuff. A movie would release in the US, and if it was popular, it would filter through to us a few months later. And it would take even longer for it to appear on VHS for us to hire.

Picture: Wiki Commons

It was probably when I was in Grade 3, 4 or 5, or thereabouts, that I gradually became aware of Alien and Aliens. And I vowed after listening to the boys in my class go on and on about the gory film and the simply frightening alien to NEVER EVER watch the film.

I was pretty good about my resolution too, for many years, until I met and married my husband, who by his own admission is a prime example of what happens when a young, bright mind is raised on a steady diet of horror movies (he makes short surreal horror films now in his spare time).

Somehow I still avoided Alien and most of its sequel, Aliens, but I did see and enjoy Alien Resurrection and watched bits of Alien 3 over the husband’s shoulder. But, quelle horreur! I did not see the film that spawned the whole franchise. Ever. Popular culture being what it is, I’d certainly read enough graphic novels and reviews, and had seen plenty of references to piece together the story. I didn’t think it necessary to see the first film. (Besides, remember that vow I made to myself in primary school?)

Besides, dude, those films were made way before the days of CGI. How the hell could they stand the test of time? Or so I thought.

Conversations were had with fellow creatives. The lads decided “We must have an Alien marathon”. I was dubious at first, but then thought, why the hell not. Perhaps it was time to put it all in context. Especially since we’d improved our home entertainment system profoundly from the days of peering at an old, half-blown CRT monitor we’d inherited from a friend.

I need to also add that Sigourney Weaver is one of my favourite female actors, precisely because she’s often cast in strong roles. Death and the Maiden. Hello.

Okay, so let’s do this.

We (sanely) decided to split the films down the middle, hence Alien and Aliens on one night, and at some point soon we’ll do the other two. Directors respectively are Ridley Scott and James Cameron. Weaver obviously follows through the entire series.

At this point I also need to highlight another reason why I’ve found the Alien franchise so alluring, and the reason is the Swiss Surrealist HR Giger. I’ve held a long love-hate fixation with his art over the years, and his involvement with the film started quite by the by even before he was consulted regarding the design. Screenwriter Dan O’Bannon crossed paths with him while working on the failed Alejandro Jadorowsky version of Dune. So the influence was there while O’Bannon conceived of the screenplay with his mate Ronald Shusett, and they were instrumental in getting him on board by the time they got round to production.

Something else that needs to be considered regarding the success of Alien, was the context in which it came into being. Remember that Star Wars was a huge, rip-roaring success for the SF genre in 1977, so it was also a case of O’Bannon and Shusett being in the right place at the right time with their screenplay.

I’d like to think that the contrast between the two films also played a role in its success. In Star Wars we have a rollicking space opera of epic proportions. In Alien, we are faced with the stark sterility of space, where mankind becomes prey to a superior biological organism. We are stripped of the romance and are faced to face with the primal danger of the hunter and the hunted.

To find oneself toppled from one’s post at the apex of the food chain is a deeply unsettling thought. Add to that the aesthetics of the Xenomorph (as the alien organism is known), and the way violation of others lies at the heart of its very existence (its sexual reproduction results in the oral rape of its host species). All unsettling, this blend of sex and death. What makes it even more frightening is that we are not able to reason with this life, whose sole motivation is so similar to ours – the Xenomorph wants to live, and will make use of whichever resources are available to do so. Humanity is merely a means to an end. And it doesn’t rest well to be relegated to a food source and a form of reproduction, does it?

In the second film, the themes of motherhood are also explored, which becomes rather unsettling when considering the role of the Xenomorph queen and the way she cares for her babies when compared to Ellen Ripley trying to make up for the fact that she missed out on being a mother to her long-dead daughter (floating about in stasis can play havoc with your timeline).

In discussion with the husband afterward, I realised also that another big theme running throughout both movies was that of corporate greed. The Weyland company owns the commercial vessel Nostromo on which Ripley is a crew member. It’s thanks to the company requiring an alien retrieved with complete disregard to the crew’s safety that is pivotal in the catastrophe. (And the reason for Ash countermanding Ripley’s quarantine order becomes even more clear.) In Aliens, an entire colony forfeits their lives so that Weyland can have access to the Xenomorph.

Picture: Wiki Commons

The question is asked: who is the real monster? The Xenomorph whose savagery is born out of natural instinct, or humanity, which will willingly turn on its own kind in order to further its aims?

As for my initial, childhood squeamishness, I went into the film with the expectation that everyone would die except for Ripley. Which was a far more healthier attitude to have. “Will he/she survive?” became more a case of “In what grisly manner and when will this person die?”

Both Scott and Cameron are able directors, who are adept in building and maintaining tension. Despite the lack of the almost ubiquitous CGI we’ve become to know and love for our cinema, neither director gives us overlong, detailed views of the Xenomorph. Instead, use of selected focus, light, sound and framing, the supreme predator is implied rather than revealed, and becomes all the more frightening because our imaginations have to fill in the missing details. (Perhaps our contemporary filmmakers can learn a thing or two from these older films, which I feel in a way are quite superior to the bad rash of Too Much Awesome afflicting contemporary cinema).

What starts out fairly mundane, is gradually unveiled in a full, unrelenting horror, for which we are woefully inadequately prepared. These two films straddle several genres (SF/horror/thriller) at the pinnacle of their craft, and over the intervening years and despite such massive leaps in filmmaking that give us dragons and massive mechs, have lost none of their power to cause us to suspend disbelief.

Oh, and I screamed. I screamed like a little girl at all the appropriate parts. And I loved every minute of it.


Sources:
“Alien (film)” Wikipedia n.p. 2015. January 13, 2015 <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_%28film%29>

“Alien (Creature in Alien Franchise) n.p. 2015. January 13, 2015 <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(creature_in_Alien_franchise)#Concept_and_creation>

The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen #review #horror

Title: The Great God Pan
Author: Arthur Machen

My first encounter with Arthur Machen’s writing was in a (now) quaint selection of classic horror, and from my meanderings in the interwebz, his name just keeps cropping up. He’s considered one of the grandpappies of authentically modern horror, and knowing what I do about HP Lovecraft, it’s clear Machen had a huge influence on the man.

Those who’re into their esoteric vibe will also recognise Machen in connection to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn courtesy of AE Waite – the two were buddies. Also, the Great Beast himself was quite the fan of Machen, among others. (Though apparently Machen didn’t think much of Mr Crowley.)

Since I’m on a trip of digging deeper into the source material for so much of our modern genre fiction, Machen has been top of my TBR list for a while now, and I’m really glad that I’ve finally had the opportunity to read The Great God Pan.

For those of you not in the know, Project Gutenberg is a valuable resource as a digital library, and this is where you can go pick up your copy of The Great God Pan for free. If you’re feeling especially benevolent, do consider donating to this worthy organisation that strives to keep public domain works available.

The Great God Pan is a novella that has been described as fitting into the decadent horror genre of the late 1800s, and there’s quite a bit going on here. First off, Machen’s love of the natural world and its beauty shines through the prose. His descriptions are vivid – deft without being heavy handed. Also to consider is the theme of the content which in present times might be construed as being misogynistic. One must bear in mind that a story shouldn’t be judged through a contemporary lens, especially if one considers that the concept of a sexually liberated woman during the Victorian era could only have been viewed quite literally as the Devil’s handmaiden by many.

The underlying theme is clear: Man cannot comprehend the full magnificence that is nature, and to do so will drive him completely mad. In the novella, three men are left to untangle the threads of a mystery when scientific experiment goes wrong. An enigmatic young woman is taken advantage of by a doctor, and this cruel procedure gives rise to a great force that enthrals men and leads them to suicidal despair.

An alchemy of spirit made flesh takes place, for which our rational Victorian gentlemen are ill prepared. Machen touches on the concept of divinely inspired ecstasy at the heart of ancient pagan practices long forgotten – and our inability in modern times to come to terms with these primal aspects of our natures.

Burning ... with Joan De La Haye

This isn't Joan De La Haye's first time here, and it's most certainly not her last. She's a fellow South African author who's been around for a while now, and is known most notably for her horror. Today she's subjecting herself to a little Q&A here at my spot, as we look at her latest release, Burning. Welcome, Joan!

Firstly, I love the cover. Did you have a hand in its design? Can you share a little bit about what choices went into its creation? 

Thanks! I also love the cover. It was designed by Dave Johnson, who also did the cover for Shadows. Dave is one of those artists who actually reads the book first and then comes up with a few concepts that Adele Wearing, my publisher, and I get to choose from. He gives us loads of different options and all of them tend to be amazing, which makes choosing incredibly difficult. If Adele and I have trouble making a decision we get him to wade into the conversation. His input always seems to make perfect sense and makes the decision process somewhat easier. But what is great, is that I get to make the final pick.

With Burning we’d whittled it down to two choices. The one with the tarot card - the lovers, which was the final cover. The other had a ceremonial dagger and was far darker. In the end we all felt that the burning tarot card was just more representative of the book and the story.
I think we made the right choice. It’s a stunning image and makes for a wonderful cover.

Can you tell us a little bit about how your witches operate? What do you love about writing witches? 

What’s not to love about witches? Witches are awesome and under-utilised in horror fiction. The witches in my story are not the all-powerful ones you often see in fiction. These are your run-of-the-mill kitchen witches and wicca practitioners who dabble with forces they can’t control and get their fingers burnt, quite literally.

Who is Marcie Grove? Was she always a witch? Is this something she had to have a talent for?

Marcie Grove is a nurse and a witch searching for more profound magical experience. She wants to experience true power and goes looking for it within the pages of an old magical text. She’s also lonely and horny which, let’s face it, often leads to very bad decisions. She wasn’t always a witch; she found wicca and witchcraft later in her life. She’s not a powerful magical being. She isn’t supernatural in any shape of form. She’s just a normal woman dabbling with magic.

Were there any scenes that were particularly tricky to write? 

Yes! The sex scenes. I always find sex scenes difficult to write. I never know how graphic to go or where to gloss over things. I also think finding a balance with sex scenes is difficult. You don’t want it just to be a blow-by-blow description or one of those badly written sex scenes where you can see that the author was uncomfortable writing it, or one of those overly romanticised sex scenes which make you want to throw up just a little bit.

What are some of the underlying themes in your story? 

I think the themes at the heart of the story are sexuality, obsession, and addiction.

Excerpt:

The coven surrounded the altar. The flames from the tiki torches flickered in the breeze. The circle had been cast and the quarters called. Ghosts began to gather at the edge of the circle. Sandra's Shaman with dreadlocks down his back stood beside Raven, who held the ancient tomb open at the requisite ritual. Marianne, the midwife, stood in front of Marcie, holding her knees apart. Greg stood next to the altar holding Marcie’s hand while another contraction wrenched her insides. A scream erupted from her core. It was all wrong. This was not how her vision had looked. The Shaman had not been there and Greg had been outside the circle. Marianne had not been there to help her give birth. It was all terribly wrong.
What if it wasn’t all wrong? A voice at the back of her mind penetrated through the pain. What if this was how it was supposed to be? What if the vision was just one alternative future she had seen? What if this was right? What if this was the only way she and the baby would survive? Hope flooded through her. She grabbed onto the feeling with both hands. It was like nectar to a person dying of thirst in the desert. But the feeling of hope dwindled with another contraction that made her feel as though her body was splitting in two.
Blood flooded the altar.

Author Bio:

Joan De La Haye writes horror and some very twisted thrillers. She invariably wakes up in the middle of the night, because she’s figured out yet another freaky

way to mess with her already screwed up characters.
Joan is interested in some seriously weird stuff. That’s probably also one of the reasons she writes horror.
Joan is deep, dark and seriously twisted and so is her writing.

Buy Burning on Amazon Kindle and Amazon print.

Take a Trip to the Downside with SL Grey #review #interview

Nothing is sacred to writing duo Sarah Lotz and Louis Greenberg – also known by their pen name SL Grey – who’ve brought us the highly entertaining, horror-themed Downside trilogy that engages a darker view of traditional settings that already hold more than enough horror. The Mall and The Ward took a stab at consumer culture and the South African medical system respectively, and in The New Girl, they allow their imaginations to run amok in a setting inspired by the school of your nightmares.

Though one might be tempted to wonder whether their own experiences provided inspiration, Greenberg says: “My high school was a grim, faux-Victorian boys’ school, so it might have been cathartic to set horror stories there, but we felt that a wannabe-gothic school would be a rather clichéd setting and decided, as we have throughout the series, to set it in a modern school whose abusiveness hides behind its clean, moral veneer.”

What set book three apart from books one and two is that this time the authors added the viewpoints of Downsider, who inhabit a shadowy world that exists as a dark reflection of ours, which offered a revealing glimpse into the lives of these rather macabre creatures.

Greenberg says that they didn’t want to write the same book as The Mall or The Ward and “the logic of the downside developed in The Ward and the next step was to turn the tables and allow readers to understand it from a downsider’s perspective.”

Of course the downsiders don’t quite “get” our culture at all, which results in their often humours appropriations of names and objects. Greenberg elaborates: “The denizens of The Mall are brutally honest –much more than upsiders – and that first came across in their shop names and in their marketing. It was so much fun that that sort of expression became a trademark of the downsiders, and part of the writing that we always looked forward to. My favourite parts in The New Girl are when some of the halfpints in class tell their teacher what they’d do to a brown who tried to threaten them. And the names Sarah came up with for some of the secondary downsiders, like Cardineal Phelgm, are classic.”
Since The New Girl’s release, both Lotz and Greenberg have gone on to celebrate the release of solo novels. Lotz’s much-lauded The Three, has recently received mention from no less than Stephen King; and Greenberg’s Dark Window has also garnered favourable reviews.

Greenberg says: “Sarah and I bring quite different skills to the collaboration, so it would be an interesting exercise to see both of our solo work and see how it differs from SL Grey, and how SL Grey combines our styles. I’ve also expanded vastly as a writer from working with Sarah, who gives me great hands-on practice at the aspects of storytelling I hadn’t practised so much before.”

Lotz adds: “I wouldn't have been able to pull off my latest solo novel without the experience I gained from working with Louis. It’s been a steep and rewarding learning curb. And I urge everyone to pick up a copy of his genre-busting, bloody brilliant latest novel, which deserves every bit of the praise it’s getting.”

Greenberg concludes: “I’m one of the legions of The Three fankids. I was lucky enough to read it in manuscript last year and I was thoroughly impressed, a little jealous and a lot inspired that she could write such a focused, sustained, original and riveting novel with her trademark plot brilliance and chameleonic empathy and voice.”


Title: The New Girl
Author: SL Grey
Publisher: Corvus Books, 2013

Truth be told, I don’t find the SL Grey books all that scary. Unsettling, yes. Disturbing, definitely, but in all the right ways possible. But, they’re highly entertaining if you’re not too squeamish when it comes to dark fiction with a twist of body horror.

The Downside books are the mutated brainchild of two of SA’s established voices in horror – Sarah Lotz (author of the widely acclaimed The Three) and Louis Greenberg (who has recently seen the release of his novel Dark Windows).

What the two started in their first foray into collaborative writing, The Mall, they’ve carried through with The Ward, book two, and have now concluded in book three. And, while you needn’t read all the books in chronological order, you will possibly pick up more of the references to the other instalments if you do.

Where The Mall takes a left hook at our consumerist culture, and The Ward examines the horrors of our hospital system, The New Girl slashes at South Africa’s private schools. Once again, the inhabitants of the Downside allow us to view a dark distortion of our contemporary lifestyle through their lens.

The results are simultaneously hilarious and uncomfortable, and by the third book, the blend between Lotz and Greenberg’s writing is seamless.

We meet Tara, an American woman obsessed with Reborn dolls, which are toys that have been modified to make them seem like real babies. The other primary character is Ryan, who is difficult to like due to his being a sexual predator pretty much begging for the signature SL Grey “Downside” just deserts.

What makes The New Girl different from its predecessors is that inhabitants from Downside are also employed as viewpoint characters, which gives readers the opportunity to see a behind-the-scenes slice of life from the perspective of these somewhat macabre individuals. Jane and Penter are unpleasant, yet one can’t help but feel a strange affection for them and their predicaments as they make the best of their situation. Their attempts to understand our world result in numerous darkly humorous situations. This touch from the authors was unexpected, yet added much depth to the novel, which otherwise might have followed the expected dual-viewpoint template.

At this stage, I must add, that SL Grey is perhaps one of the few names to have had me laugh out loud while reading – and have my fellow passengers on the train shift to a seat further away from my evil cackling. Well done, to these master storytellers.

This House is Haunted by John Boyne #review

Title: This House is Haunted
Author: John Boyne
Publisher: Transworld Publishers, 2013

In This House is Haunted, a plain-Jane schoolteacher responds to an urgent advertisement to take up a post in Norfolk as a governess to two children from an obviously wealthy family. At first this career opportunity seems like the answers to Eliza Caine’s prayers, as she’s just lost her father and doesn’t have any other prospects.

For some reason, at the age of 21, she’s still unmarried, and whether this is due to a low self-image or whether she’s genuinely hideous, remains for the reader to decide. Personally, I prefer to think that Eliza’s sheltered upbringing has led to her introversion, and living with her elderly father has not helped her cause.

Of course once Eliza arrives at Gaudlin Hall, she is immediately thrust into a supernatural mystery (starting with a pair of ghostly hands trying to shove her under a train on the platform upon her arrival). Being the rational sort, this young woman is not immediately inclined to run screaming, nor does she at first believe that her problems are of a paranormal nature.

Eliza is chiefly concerned that her two charges – the young Isabella and Eustace Westerley – have absent parents, and are growing up isolated in the nearly derelict residence which conveniently has gargoyles on the roof to add to the Gothic mood.

It’s at this point that the story’s wheels come off for me. If you’ve grown up on a steady diet of period dramas and horror films (especially all those cheesy Hammer horrors from the previous century) you’ll quickly pick out nearly every single trope the genre can throw at readers, such as the crumbling mansion with the inexplicable events; suspicious villagers who’re all in on some dreadful secret they won’t share; peculiar children who see dead people; and of course the prerequisite, scary surly groundskeeper.

My feeling is that the author raided those old horror classics for all the scary bits we’ve come to know and expect, and that though these are suited eminently for horror on film, they are not particularly scary when employed in the written word. At least not in the same way that the likes of Stephen King gives me sleepless nights.

Eliza experiences phenomena, and I kept waiting to be scared, but our main character takes things in her stride, and I gained a growing sense, especially when it came to the behaviour of others “in the know” that the author had written other characters to be deliberately mysterious in order to heighten tension. So, to me, this aspect of the book feels contrived.

These things considered, I still enjoyed This House is Haunted, for the same reason that I’m entertained by old-school horror (and here I’m thinking specifically of Guillermo del Torro’s Mama and Don’t be Afraid of the Dark, as well as The Woman in Black, a novel by Susan Hill that was made into a film starring Daniel Radcliffe). None of these offerings are perfect, but they’re still enjoyable.

If you go into This House is Haunted with moments of tongue-in-cheek humour, references to Charles Dickens and typical Gothic novels in mind, then the story might provide perfectly adequate entertainment. Scary, however, it is not, and if you know your tropes well, you’ll see the final outcome arriving from miles away.

John Boyne drops piles of hints from early on that are simple to add together. This results in a story that is to a large extent formulaic, and made me think along the lines of Jane Eyre meets Paranormal Activity.

Tales from the Lake with Joe Mynhardt

Today Joe Mynhardt of Crystal Lake Publishing takes control of my blog, so a big, scary (and chilly) welcome to Joe!

Every now and then a book comes along that creeps the hell out of a person; a book that leaves you spellbound even days after you’ve read it. For me that book is Tales from The Lake Vol.1. Now you’d think that after editing and working on these stories for the last 9 months I’d be tired of them, but believe it or not, they’re still stuck in my head, whispering to me at all times of the day… and night.

I didn’t want to give too much away, but here are just a few examples:

From Tim Waggoner’s "Lover, Come Back to Me":
He didn’t want to look, but he did. Greywater Lake lived up to its name. The water was murky, but from the ripples on the surface, he thought Jan was right. Before the school of fish had stretched a couple feet from the canoe’s hull. Now it was double – no, triple that. And worse, was their canoe beginning to spin slowly in the same direction the fish were swimming?

From Elizabeth Massie’s "Don’t Look at Me":
I blink. Blurry, painful light bleeds into my eyes. I blink again and Connie comes into view.
I cringe.
She is perhaps eleven, maybe a little younger. She has thin brown hair and a thin sallow face. Bruises the shape of fingers are on her neck and there are scratches on her forehead. Her left eye is blackened.
“I see you,” I manage.
“I know,” says Connie. “Now I got to put you back. Mama said I better be down to fix supper before five o’clock. I’m going to fry some bologna.”

From Taylor Grant’s "Dead Pull":
Mackey swallowed audibly. “Rats?”
Brennan felt a quiet glee warm his heart watching Mackey’s face grow pale. “Rats, snakes, lizards… you name it. Every once in a while one escapes from their cage. The damn things are impossible to catch once they end up down here. And let me tell you… some of those bastards have gotten pretty big.”
Mackey glanced nervously at the darkened corners of the basement.
Brennan continued, “But hey, you’re good with animals, right? Ain’t nothin’ you can’t handle.”

From Bev Vincent’s "The Lady of Lost Lake":
A few moments later, I heard him dragging the canoe from the shore into the lake. This unexpected sound helped me clear my head. Crawling to the open doorway, I poked my head out into the fog-bound night just in time to see Alf paddle into the mist. The moonlight reflected around him, giving the whole scene an ethereal, transcendental look.

What others have said about Tales from The Lake Vol.1:
“The imagination and inventiveness in this anthology display a creativity and diversity of talent seldom found in such collections… This extremely neat, thoroughly edited anthology of carefully selected tales is another proud feather in the cap of Crystal Lake Publishing. For a collection of tales that will thrill, horrify, and generally captivate all readers of horror and dark fantasy, I highly recommend Tales from the Lake Vol.1 as a must-read!” – Ellen Fritz – Books4Tomorrow

“There are ghost stories, weird people of the sea, murderous toys, and super-humans, among other things. Rather than go the safe and typical route, the authors use such fantastical concepts as a starting point in exploring fears that lurk deep beneath the surface. Whatever raises the hairs on the back of your neck, or has you jumping at the slightest sound, chances are that something here will hit close to home. Tales from the Lake Vol. 1 is a collection of tales well worth diving into.” – Josh Black – Hellnotes

So dive right in… the water’s fine.

Universal Amazon Link (paperback and Kindle)
Crystal Lake Publishing (Kindle)
Smashwords (Various eBook formats)

And if my words failed to lure you in, then perhaps this will...

Happy nightmares!

Famous Modern Ghost Stories #review

Title: Famous Modern Ghost Stories
Introduced by Dorothy Scarborough
Publisher: Knickerbocker Press,  1921

It's sometimes both awesome and awful to return to the classics and see where the roots of horror lie, and this anthology is no exception. Since we live in an age where we suffer from an overabundance of information, it is far easier for authors to gain an understanding of the trends within particular genres.

Having read this collection of short fiction, I can clearly judge how the genre has grown in depth and, also, has devolved. That which is it's boon in contemporary times is also its curse. Not all stories that are released onto today's market are ready for publication.

And, likewise, looking back at the stories in this volume, not all of the tales are paragons of literary greatness. That being said,  I do believe it important for us to be able to look backward and see how far we have come. The short story, as a form, is so vital to fiction, since it creates a literary snapshot of a time and place. And especially so to those who're interested in a particular era.

So, Famous Modern Ghost Stories is a bit of a mixed bag. If I'm going to be objective, I'll state flat out that some of the authors come across like people I probably wouldn't want to hang out with in present times. There were, however, a number of stories that did stand out from the pack.

"The Willows" by Algernon Blackwood deserves its place in the classics section. What starts out as a travelogue in the spirit of high adventure, quickly decays into a tense and decidedly weird and frightening dilemma. The creeping horror is not so much the supernatural phenomena, but rather Blackwood's fantastic evocation of the environment. His world building is masterful, and I got sweaty palms at the parts where the characters were in a race against nature's inexorable flow. It's man versus environment, and the realisation that there is little to separate us from complete catastrophe.

"Lazarus" by Leonid Andreyev is unrelenting in its crushing misery. To be honest, I was startled by the choice in subject matter, of taking a biblical story and subverting it so. Therein lay the horror. Sometimes the dead should remain dead.

"Ligeia" by Edgar Allan Poe, of course, is a treat in all his wonderful wordiness, followed closely by another favourite (and highly underrated) Guy de Maupassant, whose "A Ghost" is suitably atmospheric.

The majority of the other stories didn't really grab me by my short and curlies. There were even a few where I sat back and asked, "What's the point?" We really have come far with the short story as a form.

So, my advice—this slim tome will interest those who would like to dip into vintage horror for the first time or who would like to lay hands on a particular story. I certainly enjoyed this collection and feel it's a keeper that has pointed me in the direction of further reading.