Publishing News - 'Return of the Prodigy' to be published in CTHULHU FHTAGN!, the new Lovecraftian anthology from Ross E. Lockhart and Word Horde, slated for August 2015 debut

Cover art by Adolfo Navarro/cover design by Scott R. Jones

Every story sale is cause for celebration. Every single one, every single time. How can it not be? I simply cannot imagine ever becoming jaded to the circumstance where a publisher read and enjoyed your story to such an extent that they not only want to put it in their book that will be marketed around the world, but they also want to pay you money for the right to showcase your writing, in hopes that it will earn them money in return. That's heady stuff, be it your first story sale or your 101st.

And while I have loved and felt blessed for each story sale in the past, placing a story with certain editors and publishers give one an extra thrill, due to the quality of their books, their track record and conduct in the industry, and the esteem in which you hold them.

Such is the case with Ross E. Lockhart and his not-so-new-anymore press Word Horde, which is rapidly becoming THE place for the best in Weird, horror, Lovecraftian, and just generally dark fiction. And, in what will mark my third appearance in a Lockhart/Word Horde project, I am extremely proud to announce that my story "Return of the Prodigy" will be published this August, 2015 in Cthulhu Fhtagn!, the newest anthology of Lovecraftian fiction following in that cosmic slug trail of bar-setting quality blazed by Lockhart's first two Book(s) of Cthulhu, which were released during his enviable run at Night Shade Books.

"Return of the Prodigy" follows two middle-age vacationers from Omaha, Nebraska, as they journey to the discount resort island of Walakea in the South Pacific to celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary, and find more than just a bargain waiting for them on the black sand beaches. I enjoyed writing the tale, as it's pulpy, a bit humorous, and interwoven with satire of a specific type of people that I know so well. I've written a lot of comedy in my career, but not much recently. It was good to stretch those muscles a little with this story.

You can pre-order Cthulhu Fhtagn! right here in this very spot. In the meantime, check out the recently released ToC, which includes genre veterans and relative newcomers, as well as some of the finest names working in speculative fiction and horror - cosmic or otherwise - today:

Table of Contents

Introduction: In His House at R’lyeh… – Ross E. Lockhart
The Lightning Splitter – Walter Greatshell
Dead Canyons – Ann K. Schwader
Delirium Sings at the Maelstrom Window – Michael Griffin
Into Ye Smoke-Wreath’d World of Dream – W. H. Pugmire
The Lurker In the Shadows – Nathan Carson
The Insectivore – Orrin Grey
The Body Shop – Richard Lee Byers
On a Kansas Plain – Michael J. Martinez
The Prince of Lyghes – Anya Martin
The Curious Death of Sir Arthur Turnbridge – G. D. Falksen
Aerkheim’s Horror – Christine Morgan
Return of the Prodigy – T.E. Grau
The Curse of the Old Ones – Molly Tanzer and Jesse Bullington
Love Will Save You – Cameron Pierce
Assemblage Point – Scott R. Jones
The Return of Sarnath – Gord Sellar
The Long Dark – Wendy N. Wagner
Green Revolution – Cody Goodfellow
Don’t Make Me Assume My Ultimate Form – Laird Barron

From the publisher:

PREORDER NOW – SHIPS IN AUGUST! The Cthulhu Fhtagn! trade paperback is signed by editor Ross E. Lockhart and comes with a free eBook in your selected format. The eBook will be emailed to you when available. If you would like your paperback personalized, please include your personalization in the Order Notes box on the Checkout page.

Publishing News: THE NAMELESS DARK, the debut collection of short fiction from T.E. Grau, slated for release July 25, 2015 by Lethe Press

Cover art by Arnaud de Vallois

Now that the cover is squared away and the manuscript is into the last throes of the copy edit phase, I am happy to announce that my debut collection of short fiction, titled The Nameless Dark, will be published this July 25, 2015 by Lethe Press.

This collection represents (nearly) every single step of my journey into prose writing after spending over a decade as a screenwriter, and a music journalist and humor columnist several years prior to that, starting in my freshman year of college. It was at age nineteen - and hot on the heels of what Rimbaud described as a "long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses" - that I changed my major from History/Pre Law to English and never (okay, rarely) looked back. In all those years of writing, and through every minor accomplishment, nothing has even remotely been as satisfying as completing a book of prose and finding a publisher that is not just willing, but actually relatively excited, to print it upon rectangled paper and sell it to the reading public.

The journey from manuscript to publishing deal was a bit of a surprise. While wrapping up the last story for the collection ("Tubby's Big Swim"), Steve Berman of Lethe Press contacted me after both Nathan Ballingrud and Laird Barron posted reviews on Facebook of my prairie horror novella The Mission. Steve first sought to re-publish the limited edition novella (which was at that point out-of-print), but after a bit of discussion, he then made an offer to publish my entire collection based in large part of the good word of these two colleagues, whose writing I admire so much. Naturally, I am very much indebted to both Laird and Nathan for reading and then publicly commenting on my work. That sort of exposure is priceless, and incredibly important. Forever pushing the boundaries of manners and entitlement, I then asked Nathan to pen a foreword to The Nameless Dark. As gracious as ever, he agreed, for which I am and shall ever be eternally grateful.

As noted above, these stories stretch back to 2010, starting with "Transmission," which was the first short story I ever wrote, then becoming the first piece of fiction I ever sold. The bones of "Twinkle, Twinkle" were actually written before "Transmission," but I never sought to find a home for it, knowing that I'd want to sit on it a bit and rework it, which I did for The Nameless Dark. It, along with "Tubby's Big Swim" (my most recently completed story), and "Expat" (finished just before "Tubby"), are the three unpublished (and unclaimed) pieces in the collection. "Mr. Lupus," my longest work to date in terms of word count, sold to an anthology a few years back edited by Scott David Aniolowski, but has never been released to the public. "Return of the Prodigy" will be included in this summer's highly anticipated Lovecraftian fiction anthology Cthulhu Fhtagn!, edited by Ross E. Lockhart and published by his excellent press Word Horde. The rest of the stories have appeared in various anthos, fiction journals, and other books over the last five years, and I am excited to have them all collected under one roof, elbowing for space at the family dinner table.

As requested elsewhere in the ether, the table of contents reads as such:

Tubby’s Big Swim
The Screamer
Clean
Return of the Prodigy
Expat
The Truffle Pig
Beer & Worms
White Feather
Transmission
Mr. Lupus
Free Fireworks
Love Songs from the Hydrogen Jukebox
Twinkle, Twinkle
The Mission

Pre-orders will begin in April via Amazon, so keep watching this liminal space for information on that, and in the meantime, thank you ever so much, dear readers and watchers and tenders of the signal fires, for your interest in my work.  I hope The Nameless Dark satisfies, and opens the door for me to show you previously unknown places and the shadows that live there, both now with this book and in the years to come with whatever will come after. This is just the beginning, the hill country at the foot of the mist-shrouded mountain. I can see the overgrown trail up into the high country, and am adjusting my pack upon my shoulders. The way won't be easy, and is sure to be treacherous, but the view from the top promises to be so incredibly worth it.

Edited (3/30/15) to add: Pre-Orders now available right here.

Publishing News: Word Horde set to release in December the trade paperback edition of THE CHILDREN OF OLD LEECH, featuring a new cover by Dalton Rose and Scott R. Jones

I am a short story writer.  And while I have ideas for novels, and will most likely begin work on them soon, I see myself at this stage in my writing life primarily as one who most enjoys scribbling things out in the short form.  Novellas, novelettes, short long fiction, long short fiction, flash fiction and micro fiction - I like it all.  There is a certain compressed power to a complete tale told in a small, confined space. Like a focused punch delivered by a master martial artist, or gunpowder dumped into a metal casing, turning sparkling fire into a deadly concussive force.

All that stated, I realize that to most of the reading and publishing public, the novel is king/queen, and this prevailing fact is no different in the realm of horror fiction.  But, for my money, shorter works are and have been the lifeblood of the dark, the supernatural, and the weird, from the very beginning.  Think of your favorite works of speculative fiction, and I would hazard that many (most?) of them would be classified as something less than a novel, in terms of word count.  I know it is that way with me, as the individual that I consider to be the most talented English language writer of all time (Flannery O'Connor) wrote in the short form. My favorite story of all time is "The Lottery," which is a short story.  My favorite weird fiction writers - Ligotti, T.E.D. Klein, Machen, Bradbury, Lovecraft, Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard, Poe, Blackwood, Bierce, Bloch, William Hope Hodgson, Fritz Leiber, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Karl Edward Wagner, Michael Shea, Joe Lansdale, Ramsey Campbell and a host of newer writers currently working in the field - all write either primarily in the short form, or have devoted a large portion of their output to the same.  The premiere dark fiction novelists, including King, Barker, Gaiman, Lawrence Block, and George R.R. Martin, wrote hundreds and hundreds of short stories between them.

In short (my apologies), I am a short story writer, and a short story fan. It just works for me.

Over the past several years, I've been fortunate enough to have my short fiction appear in numerous anthologies, and while all of them have been wonderful opportunities for which I am extremely grateful, several of them have come with a little added zing, based on publisher, editor, theme, or ToC.  A project that combines all of the above is The Children of Old Leech - edited by Ross E. Lockhart and Justin Steele for Lockhart's Word Horde press - which is a "tribute to the carnivorous cosmos of Laird Barron."

Barron's work was some of the first horror fiction I read that wasn't penned in 1930's during my deep immersion into the genre, and has always remained some of my favorite, especially in terms of atmospherics and overall bleak-as-shit cosmic horror. As such, I was quite honored when Ross and Justin invited me to submit a story to a tribute anthology to Barron and his own unique mythos, which combined savage cosmicism with dark wilderness tales, occulted aristocracy, black magic, and bare knuckle Noir.  It's a cosmology that has always resonated with me, and so I was thrilled to see what I could come up with that would fit into the Barronverse.  What emerged was my story - a novelette, actually - "Love Songs from the Hydrogen Jukebox," which serves as an homage to my beloved Beats amid an homage to Laird Barron. Two birds with one tribute stone, and all of that.

The story has receive positive reviews, and - more importantly - the anthology itself has been met with critical accolades and impressive sales.  As such, Word Horde is releasing The Children of Old Leech as a trade paperback in December, sporting a snazzy new cover featuring artwork by Dalton Rose (for a Slate article on Barron) and cover design by Scott R. Jones.

Even if you already have the original hardcover release, featuring that iconic cover by Matthew Revert, it would behoove (and behoof) you to pick up The Children of Old Leech in paperback, as I have a feeling that both will be considered bookends of each other in days to come, as Barron's dark star continues to ascend, and these unassuming works of indie fiction being created today become codified, carved into the damp cave stone of weird literature's canon eternal.

Original artwork by Dalton Rose

Editing News: Strange Aeons Lost Issue #13 Found, and Now Available to Backers of the 2014 H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival - Portland

Cover art by Mike Dubisch

Time certainly does fly, doesn't it?  It must, as I have now served as Fiction Editor of Strange Aeons magazine for a little over two years, and have enjoyed every goddamn second of it.  Truly, it has been an incredibly fun and rewarding experience sourcing stories and working with amazing writers, and then feeling the pride of releasing those words and images and nightmares out into the ether.  The only down side has been the loathsome task of sending out rejections for great stories, as featuring only one piece of fiction per issue means the culling staff is firm and unforgiving.

While the one story per issue will continue, I'm proud to announce that we've just sewn up our very first ALL FICTION issue of Strange Aeons, which will be released as our "lost" Issue #13, featuring 13 writers in 76 pages, and is only available to those who pledge $10 and above to the 2014 H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival - Portland through their Kickstarter campaign.  BUT YOU ONLY HAVE FOUR (4) DAYS LEFT, as this whole shebang closes down Monday, February 24th at 11:59 pm PST.  So get on your Huffy and haul ass before your access to this amazing special edition will be closed.

Strange Aeons Lost Issue #13 will be our largest issue yet, by far, and is made up of a mix of new, unpublished stories, re-printed tales new to the pages of the mag, and stories published under my tenure up to the present day.  Basically, if you missed any of the past issues going back to Spring 2012, worry not, silly scoundrel, you can get them all here, along with some fantastic fresh meat never before read by human eyes.

So, at long last, here is the ToC for Strange Aeons #13, listed in order of appearance:

"Welcome to the Reptile House" by Stephen Graham Jones
"The Impossibility Dissection" by Stuart Young
"Sunset on Megalopolis" by Jeffrey Thomas
"De Profundis" by Daniel Mills
"There's No Light Between Floors" by Paul Tremblay
"Insides Out" by Gary McMahon
"Folie a Deux" by Ross E. Lockhart
"The Astral Mask" by Richard Gavin
"You Are What You Eat" by Scott Nicolay
"Beautiful" by John Claude Smith
"Remains" by Orrin Grey
"Dog Will Hunt" by Ives Hovanessian
"Go, Go, Go, Said the Byakhee" by Molly Tanzer

This is a choice line-up, folks.  An A-Team, of sorts, sans mohawk and overzealous layering of gold chains (although Jeffrey has been known to go about 9-10 deep with the platinum and ice).  I'd put this group up against anyone in any antho or fiction journal coming out this year, and bet the house on the W.

So don't tarry, terry, or even teri.  Go support the good folks who are putting together the HPL FF PDX, and in the process, you'll get a collection of Weird/Cosmic/Horror/Dark Fiction that will amaze and delight your friends and colleagues, while gravely disappointing our parents.  Isn't that what life is all about?


And now the (semi)official stuff, from our website, and a snazzy vid below:

ISSUE # 13

Through incredible luck (and just a bit of eldritch wizardry) we've manged to secure a way for you to acquire what is now known as the 'lost' Issue 13!

As some of you may know, as 2013 drew to a close we began working on Issue 13. Through an unfortunate and unforeseen accident here at the SA offices, all of our files relating to the issue fell through a dimensional vortex and were feared lost.

Like any respectable Innsmouth hotel, we decided to skip Issue 13, and let it lie dreaming wherever it ended up. After collecting ourselves and counting our lucky elder signs that only the poor mailroom boy was lost along with the issue, we continued on and began working on Issue 14.

Miraculously earlier this month, a colleague of ours managed to track down the missing issue through means we are not at liberty to discuss. Suffice it to say that we owe you one...thanks, Erich!

The gracious folks at the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival & CthulhuCon have offered to help us reconstitute the recovered pages, so for a very limited time, all backers of their HPLFF 2014 Kickstarter campaign can upgrade their pledge and our ALL-FICTION Issue 13 can be yours UNTIL THE END OF THIS MONTH.

This will be a special fiction issue including the talents of Ross E. Lockhart, Jeffrey Thomas, Scott Nicolay, Gary McMahon, Stephen Graham Jones, Stuart Young, and many others. It also features a wonderful cover by Mike Dubisch and interior illustrations by Allen K., Lee Davis, and Nick Gucker!

The best part is how easy it is to add Issue 13 to your collection. For as little as $1, you can become a backer of the HPLFF Kickstarter, and then simply add on the $10 upgrade amount to reserve your copy. This issue will only be available during the Kickstarter campaign, so make sure you grab your copy while you can! Please watch the video below to learn more about the HPLFF and pledge your support for the best Lovecraftian festival on earth!

Publishing News: "The Truffle Pig" Accepted for Publication in 'Tales of Jack the Ripper', edited by Ross E. Lockhart, to be released Autumn 2013 by new press Word Horde

Cover art by Arnaud de Vallois

I am pleased as 198 proof punch to announce that "The Truffle Pig," my humble piece of Victorian Lovecraftiana, was accepted for publication in Tales of Jack the Ripper, an anthology edited by Ross E. Lockhart, the release of which will christen his new indie press Word Horde this coming autumn of 2013.

Ross is an acclaimed and widely respected writer and editor, probably best known for editing the excellent Book of Cthulhu (I & II) series, which was released by now-defunct (for all intents and purposes) Night Shade Books - the demise of which I will not go into here, as it is messy and complicated and most of all, unfortunate, in regards to the stellar stable of writers working under the Night Shade Books banner, and the readers who enjoyed NSB books (myself very much included).

So, back to the topic at hand...  All writers with any sort of professional aspirations have goals, and those goals are forever moving, based on the landscape ahead, and what real estate squats in the rear view.  With that said, ever since I first cracked open the first Book of Cthulhu, I've wanted to appear in one of Ross' books, as they always bleed quality, from the inside out, featuring the best writers in books that are solidly designed (cover, graphics, layout, font, paper quality, etc.), while still somehow managing a reasonable price.  I don't know how Ross does it, but he does, and now - thanks to my acceptance into Tales of Jack the Ripper - I get to be a tiny part of that, which thrills me to no end.  Goal achieved.

Please note the Word Horde Press Release, viciously cut and pasted - and adorned with snazzy linkage - below, together with the recently released ToC, that puts my story amongst some incredibly august company.  I'm just excited and honored beyond words to be a part of this anthology, and cannot wait to hold it in my small, girlish hands this fall.
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Press Release: Jack the Ripper to return fall 2013

1888: One hundred and twenty-five years ago, a killer stalked the streets of London’s Whitechapel district, brutally–some would say ritualistically–murdering five women (that we know of): Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly.

The story of Jack the Ripper captured lurid headlines and the public’s imagination, and the first fictionalization of the Ripper killings, John Francis Brewer’s The Curse Upon Mitre Square appeared in October of 1888, mere weeks after the discovery of Jack’s first victim. Since then, hundreds of stories have been written about Bloody Jack, his victims, and his legacy. Authors ranging from Marie Belloc Lowndes to Robert Bloch to Harlan Ellison to Roger Zelazny to Alan Moore have added their own tales to the Ripper myth. Now, as we arrive at the quasquicentennial of the murders, we bring you a few tales more.

From Word Horde and the editor who brought you The Book of Cthulhu and The Book of Cthulhu II comes Tales of Jack the Ripper, featuring new and classic fiction by many of today’s darkest dreamers, including Laird Barron, Ramsey Campbell, Ed Kurtz, Joe R. Lansdale, Joseph S. Pulver, Sr., Stanley C. Sargent, E. Catherine Tobler, and many more.

Table of Contents

Whitechapel Autumn, 1888 – Ann K. Schwader
A Host of Shadows – Alan M. Clark and Gary A. Braunbeck
Jack’s Little Friend – Ramsey Campbell
Abandon All Flesh – Silvia Moreno-Garcia
The God of the Razor – Joe R. Lansdale
The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker – Ennis Drake
Ripping – Walter Greatshell
Something About Dr. Tumblety – Patrick Tumblety
The Truffle Pig – T. E. Grau
Ripperology – Orrin Grey
Hell Broke Loose – Ed Kurtz
Where Have You Been All My Life? – Edward Morris
Juliette’s New Toy – Joseph S. Pulver, Sr.
Villains by Necessity – Pete Rawlik
When the Means Just Defy the End – Stanley C. Sargent
A Pretty for Polly – Mercedes Yardley
Termination Dust – Laird Barron
Once November – E. Catherine Tobler
Silver Kisses – Ann K. Schwader

Tales of Jack the Ripper is coming fall 2013 from Word Horde

$15.99 Trade Paperback: 978-1-939905-00-0
Ebook also available

Cover Art by Arnaud de Vallois

To request a copy for review or arrange an interview, email publicity@wordhorde.com.

Word Horde – PO Box 2074 – Petaluma, CA 94953-2074 – www.wordhorde.com


Praise for Ross E. Lockhart’s The Book of Cthulhu and The Book of Cthulhu II:

“The enduring allure of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, now nearly a century old, is evident in this representative anthology of modern tales, most of which were written in the last decade. The breadth of cosmic horrors they evoke range from the parochial fear of monsters found in Michael Shea’s ‘Fat Face,’ to the apocalyptic doom forecasted in Ramsey Campbell’s ‘The Tugging.’ Some of the stories, notably Brian Lumley’s ‘The Fairground Horror’ and Brian McNaughton’s self-consciously satirical ‘The Doom that Came to Innsmouth,’ are ripe with Lovecraftian references. Most others, including Joe R. Lansdale’s weird western ‘The Crawling Sky’ and Laird Barron’s backwoods monster tale ‘The Men from Porlock’ (original to the book), are more oblique and allusive. To the book’s credit, none of the twenty-seven stories read like slavish Lovecraft pastiche, which makes this volume all the more enjoyable.” -Publishers Weekly (Starred Review)

“Gathering Cthulhu-inspired stories from both 20th and 21st-century authors, this collection provides such a huge scope of styles and takes on the mythology that there are sure to be a handful that surprise and inspire horror in even the most jaded reader.” -Josh Vogt, Examiner.com

“There are no weak stories here–every single one of the 27 entries is a potential standout reading experience. The Book of Cthulhu is nothing short of pure Lovecraftian gold. If fans of H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos don’t seek out and read this anthology, they’re not really fans – it’s that simple.” -Paul Goat Allen, BN.com

“…thanks to the wide variety of contributing authors, as well as Lockhart’s keen understanding of horror fiction and Lovecraft in particular, [The Book of Cthulhu] is the best of such anthologies out there.” -Alan Cranis, Bookgasm.com

“The Book of Cthulhu is one hell of a tome.” -Brian Sammons, HorrorWorld.org

“…an impressive tribute to the enduring fascination writers have with Lovecraft’s creation. [...] Editor Ross E. Lockhart has done an excellent job of ferreting out estimable stories from a variety of professional, semi-professional, and fan venues [...] to establish a sense of continuity and tradition.” -Stefan Dziemianowicz, Locus

“…a stunning collection of Lovecraft inspired tales all centered around the infamous Cthulhu myth.” -Drake Llywelyn, Dark Shadows Book Reviews

“As he did for his previous anthology, Lockhart has cast his net far and wide to haul in outstanding stories from publications both well-known and obscure, none sampled more than once. He has also commissioned four new stories, several so good that they are likely to be selected for reprint anthologies in the future.” -Stefan Dziemianowicz, Locus

“…any fan of Lovecraft can’t afford to miss out on this one.” -Justin Steele, The Arkham Digest

“The second volume of The Book of Cthulhu exemplifies the richness of Lovecraft’s legacy: gloomy terror, mystery, thrills, vivid action, chilling visions, satire, science fiction, humor–all of that, and then some, is crammed into more than 400 pages awaiting readers eager for some apocalyptic horror.” -Dejan Ognjanovic, Rue Morgue
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Keep your eyes peeled for pre-order info, kittens and cats, as I'll be sure to share once it's available.

In the meantime, beware the fog, and those things that grow and watch and grin from within.

TC Book Review & Interview: Laird Barron Weaponizes the Weird in Debut Novel ‘The Croning' from Night Shade Books

Laird Barron made me gain five pounds.

No, he didn’t hold me down and shovel deep fried butter wedges into my gaping yapper (although, dare to dream). What he did was write a colossal piece of fiction that was nearly impossible to put down, even at the gym, where I do much of my reading every morning. As I hazily recall, just before cracking open Barron’s debut novel The Croning some weeks back, I marched my happy ass off to the local garishly lit LA Fitness, eager to absorb a few pages in between moving weighted objects from one place to another. Forty-five minutes later I found myself on the floor, sprawled in some lazy stretching pose, peering at the pages in front of me with wide, slightly twitching eyes while sadly oblivious meatheads preened in front of mirrors around me. I was hooked, boated, and clubbed, and stayed that way until I closed the last page some blurry span of time later. As I became doughier, I also became more willing, suppliant. I was fattened and ready for the provender plate of dear Old Leech. Just like They wanted it.

Barron’s storytelling has that rare power of grip, weaving a particular strain of beautiful, sinewy prose that somehow possesses enough tiny microfibers to pick up the grit and sharp things swept into the corners of forgotten history. Both beautiful and monstrous, his evocative imagery lures you into the forest with the cadence of lost eons, leaves you in expectant silence, and then rips back the shading canopy, exposing you to the terrible realities that lie waiting under the thin veneers of bullshit “civilization”.

Not surprisingly, the writing is a reflection of the writer and his unique experience set. Barron grew up in the wilds of Alaska and spent several years fishing the murderous Bering Sea and racing the Iditarod on arctic tundra like some goddamn throwback to a time of brawnier, more road-tested scribes, who could lay down some poetic verse before laying you out in a pool of your own teeth for spilling his drink. Papa Hemingway. Jack London. Dashiell Hammett in a parka. All sitting in the corner booth of the Bar on the Borderland, waiting for their Weirdling pals from the Pulps to show up and swap stories of the violent and strange.

Indeed, his meaty, imaginative style is an amalgam of all of these rough and smooth elements, taking shape as a barrel-chested ballerina, a professional wrestler moonlighting as an ice skater. A pagan ninja hopped up on blood saki, beautifully weaponizing the sublime and stuffing horror into documented and geological mysteries long buried for a reason. Barron respectfully nods his heads to his forebearers, but is truly his own man, blazing his trail through the wild, untamed places to find the haunted ruins. The cryptic mounds.  The dolmens... This is Weird fiction boiled hard.

Unfairly or not, Barron is often compared to (elder)godfather of cosmic horror  H.P. Lovecraft, but in many ways, Barron’s work is far more bleak than the Gentleman from Providence. In Lovecraft’s Mythos, profoundly alien Great Old Ones and Outer Gods were mostly oblivious or apathetic to our meaningless existence. The horror often came from the realization of unimaginable truth.  Much like Barron, HPL’s protagonists reflected the man, and as such, were bookish and aloof, ghosts in the coal powered machine, sneering strangers in the hated crowd. In Laird’s “Barronic Mythos” (an increasingly legitimate construct that I may or may not have just given a name), the unearthly entities not only know where we are and what we’re doing, they pop in from time for a bite, and/or to continually fuck with us just because they can. His characters ARE the crowd, reflecting all strata of life, from the aristocratic elite to the shithouse dogs. Barron understand them all, and spares none. All are claymation figurines caught up in a Game Unutterable organized before the beginning of time. All of them are doomed, and Barron allows us a front row seat to the slow, excruciating execution.

The Croning, Barron’s first full-length novel after making his bones and racking up accolades as a conjurer of short fiction, is a perfect reflection of what he does as a writer, while serving as a stage one culmination of much of his storytelling from the past decade. Characters, artifacts, and even families that were introduced in such short stories as “Mysterium Tremendum” and “The Men From Porlock” reappear in The Croning ready to cast off their potential and reveal their dreadful destiny. After a prologue of sorts, which serves as more than just a pitch-black origin story of Rumpelstiltskin, we are lead through three life stages of the affable geologist Don Miller, and together, we follow Don as he follows his brilliant and headstrong wife Michelle, forever living in her secretive shadow as she chases arcane anthropological discoveries around the world, when not locked away in her study researching her family tree, obsessing over the hard-to-find root system buried impossibly deep in the antediluvian loam. As Michelle pursues her own path that occasionally intersects with her husband, Don is left to reflect on his own life barely lived, and in doing so, starts to unspool – with the help of off-the-grid intelligence agencies, old money eccentrics, and even his own son – the mind shattering reality of what has been slithering around his ankles and through his home for decades, and his role in ongoing Outer Machinations older than the cosmos and twice as dangerous. Cults and conspiracies. Secret societies and powerful bloodlines with grand designs forged through unwholesome alliances dating back to the Stone Age. Mind snuffing dread born beyond the reach of time and space. This is the world of The Croning, and this is the writing of Laird Barron, who effectively synthesizes science fiction with science fact, creating a New Kind of Truth that can be as mortifying as it is wondrous. And it all works. Perfectly, it works.

Much like Bloch, Carter, Lumley, Campbell, Klein, and even Ligotti before him, and with the curiously scarred crone looming protectively behind him, Laird Barron has emerged as the new poster boy of cosmic horror, thankfully without a shred of pastiche anywhere in the shot. The Croning shows an already masterful writer fully in the throws of his own, unique style somehow getting better, and that bodes well for us, his readership, which grows by the hour.  We are the Children of Old Leech, and we love you.

In the end, and after all of this convoluted blather, I supposed the highest compliment I can pay The Croning is that it’s the sort of novel I wish I had written had I not first read it. It’s a gift of cosmic naturalist horror that will force you to re-examine everything and everyone around you, if only slightly. The X-Files in print, only infinitely scarier and hitting far closer to home.  It will make you fear the trees.  It will make you check for zippers.

I reckon that’s not too shabby for a first novel.

(The Croning can be purchased directly from Night Shade Books [recommended by The Cosmicomicon, because it's the right goddamn thing to do], and from Amazon for you corporate-felching cheapskates who hate Santa Claus a little and Ross E. Lockhart even more)

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As you process the jibber jabber above, please enjoy the second installment of the The Cosmicomicon Book Review & Interview (the first of which was christened upon the diamond cut abs of Simon Strantzas).  I'd like to thank Laird for making time to sit down with me across the table o' ether, as I know his hours were limited in the days leading up to the hugely anticipated release of The Croning.  As such, I kept my questions as brief as possible, attempting not to repeat inquiries covered in other interviews.  The resulting answers show a very candid, free-form/riffy side of Laird that I don't think I've read before.  Fantastic stuff, that I'm honored to share with you all below.

TC:   Your writing is often compared to that of classic cosmic Weirdists H.P. Lovecraft, Arthur Machen, Algernon Blackwood, etc. (including by yours truly above), but there seems to be far more at play under the surface of your prose.  More contemporary, brawnier, bare-knuckled stuff.  Just as much Lawrence Block as T.E.D. Klein.  Who are your influences, both conscious and subconscious?

LB:  My earliest influences were pulps and adventure novels. H. Rider Haggard, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E. Howard, that was my crowd as a kid. Big men with axes, naked alien princesses, exotic landscapes, fantastical beasts. Rivers of blood. Hell of an escape from my family’s sub-Arctic shack.

My interests have shifted over the years. I enjoy Martin Cruz Smith and Kelly Link in equal measure. I riff on Lovecraft and McCarthy if the firing solution calls for it. But my love of the pulps is always there and ever inflecting what I write.

TC:  Charlie Parker had a great quote that always stuck with me:  “If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn.”  Based on your diverse, wide-ranging jobs, pursuits, and travels – many of them often taking place in some pretty gritty, unforgiving locales - you’re a writer who has certainly “lived it” out under the sun and rain, in contrast to a more reclusive individual like Lovecraft or Thomas Ligotti.  How important do you think it is for a writer to get out into the world in order to write about it and the homo sapiens taking up so much space, or can the same time be spent researching to achieve a similar result?

LB:  A good artist had better be able to fake it until he makes it. There’s a reason I do what I do, however. I look at the more desolate portions of my youth as a sacrifice to the muses.

My professional writing career has spanned a decade. What was I doing before that? Digging my way out of the hole provenance dropped me headfirst into as a baby. I know what it feels like. To be punched, kicked in the balls, frozen, dragged, bitten, betrayed and heartbroken. I’ve fired guns and swung clubs when my life depended upon them. I’ve set aside years to train in combatives, and I’ve used them too. I’ve gone completely off the deep end from too many months alone in the wild and come all the way back again like a drunk who drinks himself sober. If a man’s going to write about damaged human machinery it doesn’t hurt to have spent time on fishing boats among ex cons and addicts. Doesn’t hurt to have bunked with bikers and trappers and professional ne’er do wells. I don’t have to invent much when I write. I just reach into my pocket and pull out some bloody receipts.

TC:  I’m sensing that you wouldn’t trade one second of it - the many hardships, tough upbringing, and dangerous scrapes you’ve been through.

LB:  There are moments here and there I’d do anything to change. Just like everybody alive. In the end, it’s all grist for the mill.

TC:  The natural world features heavily into your brand of cosmic horror (I call it “cosmic naturalism”).  Do the wild places on earth – places where you’ve spent quite a bit of time – truly terrify you, or are you instead mining what you know and enjoy, and then twisting it to the dark side?

LB:  I lived in Alaska for about twenty-five years. My family was nomadic. We chased the snow in order to train huskies for the racing circuit, and most especially the Iditarod. Of course the more fabulous elements of my stories are fabricated. But there’s no dismissing the sinister grandeur of primeval wilderness. There’s got to be some natural force in Alaska that fucks with human circuitry. I think Lovecraft’s head would’ve popped like a balloon if he’d found himself trapped in some of the places I’ve been.

TC:  Your memoirs could be a piece of Weird Noir.  Have you ever thought about publishing something entirely autobiographical?  Or hell, maybe you already have.

LB:  Oh, perhaps someday. In the meantime I’m working on a sequence of stories that deal in more explicit terms with Alaska and what I saw there during my youth.

TC:  When writing previous tales like “The Men From Porlock” and “Mysterium Tremendum”, did you know that the characters, locations, situations, and/or Mythology would someday evolve into a novel?  Into this novel?

LB:  With a tiny handful of exceptions, my entire body of work exists within a continuous universe. A few stories, such as those you highlighted, indeed feed directly into one another. I seldom write something that doesn’t inflect or reference every other piece I’ve done prior. I don’t write for an anthology or magazine, regardless of theme, without plotting how it’ll fit in to the mosaic.

TC:  Building on the previous question, are you intentionally constructing a Mythos, or perhaps adding onto that which was initially crystallized by Lovecraft?

LB:  I owe debts to every piece of fiction I’ve read, every man I’ve fought, every woman I’ve loved, every musician or artist who’s taken my heart out then handed it back, changed. The classical masters of dark fantasy and cosmic horror perfected a tradition of the weird story that generally features aloofness and restraint. For better or worse, I am not that guy.

The old tradition’s hallmarks include those of repressed sexuality, violence hinted at or understated, vagueness, iciness. Lovecraft is a giant in the field and I don’t believe the canon needs a contemporary update from me. I don’t repress jack shit. There’s going to be fucking, fighting, blood and thunder in a Barron tale. When I write in this tradition, I’m interested in weaponizing it.

TC:  You’ve emerged as a standard bearer, of sorts, for whatever we’re calling the brutal amalgam of Weird fiction/dark fantasy/cosmic horror these days.  I’ve personally described “Barronic verse,” and I’ve seen “Barronian” used as an adjective.  Did you ever foresee this sort of impact on speculative fiction from the back of a dogsled heading up into the frozen white all those years ago?

LB:   No. My dreams were humble. I was usually too worried about starving or whether freezing my dick to the side of my leg would have long term consequences.

TC:  In a perfect world, what would you be writing in twenty years?

LB:  In a perfect world I’ll be alive twenty years.

TC:  What’s next on the docket for you?  Longer term, what’s a personal or professional goal still unachieved?

LB:  There should be a new horror collection out next year. Deal just needs to be inked. I’ve several stories set to appear soon. Longer term, I’m working on a crime novel. Right now, my main goal is just to keep moving forward as a writer. Keep pushing myself to the breaking point.

TC:  Who would look better poured into a tight pair of spanking new Jordache jeans?  Robert E. Howard or Ramsey Campbell?

LB:  Considering how much weight Mr. Howard has lost these past decades, I’d say Mr. Campbell wins it in a landslide.

"Laird Barron" by JD Busch