Leisure Books / July 2008
Reviewed by: Vince A. Liaguno

The new Leisure edition of Richard Laymon’s The Woods Are Dark is testament to the kindness of time to writers and their work. Closing in on thirty years since its first publication in 1981, this classic horror tale of cannibalism finally hits bookshelves the way the late Laymon intended. Like his contemporary Jack Ketchum, whose own Off Season would fall victim to an editor’s merciless red pen that same year, Laymon was a new writer eager to see his work in print. The resulting experience of that enthusiasm was a literary butchering not unlike the one his characters in this blood-soaked novel suffer. Now, thanks in large part to the painstaking restoration of the original manuscript by daughter Kelly Laymon, this harrowing story of survival can make its way into readers’ hands uncut and reconditioned.

The novel opens with a chilling roadside encounter for two friends on their way to Yosemite for a weekend camping trip. Shaken by the incident that involves a severed human hand, Neala and Sherri stop at a roadside diner to regroup. But when they go to pay the tab, they stumble into a town conspiracy and are swiftly catapulted into terror. The Dills family simultaneously arrives on the scene – opting for a night’s lodging at the town’s motor inn. It takes mere pages before parents Lander and Ruth, their teenage daughter Cordelia, and her boyfriend Ben are also snatched by the locals and find themselves en route to a mysterious wooded destination. Students of fiction writing would be wise to note Laymon’s ability to kick-start a novel and dive right into the action in these opening chapters. The set-up is effectively simple and barely gives readers time to catch their breath. No gradual build-up in these Woods.

Girls, meet the Dills; Dill family, meet the girls. The group is left shackled to trees in a dense forest and quickly realizes that they’re an offering to something called the Krulls. The locals split and soon a group of human and barely human cannibals make their presence known to the terrified group. Fortunately, nubile Neala catches the eye of one of the locals – Johnny Robbins – who doubles back and releases the group as the Krulls move in for attack. What follows is lots of running and stumbling through the dark woods as the group tries to flee the savage cannibals in tense chase sequences. Soon the group fractures – sending Lander in search of his abducted wife, Cordelia and Ben in search of Lander, and Neala, Sherri, and Johnny in search of the highway.

Laymon splits the narrative into several subplots here – the most effective being the one concerning Lander Dills and his gradual descent into madness. More disturbing than the graphic scenes of cannibalism and rape peppered liberally throughout, the passages in which Lander comes to realize his inner dark side chill to the bone. (In fact, it’s the Lander Dills subplot that benefits most from the reintroduction of some 50-odd pages of original manuscript.) These alternating plotlines keep the action moving and gradually reveal the depths of depravity and savagery of the Krulls. Laymon layers in just enough mythology to plausibly explain the Krulls’ existence along the way and keeps readers guessing at which character will be added to the body count.

This new edition includes a fascinating forward by Kelly Laymon, who details the book’s publishing history and outlines its restoration. (For more on the remarkable literary puzzle of the book and how it was solved, check out DSM’s recent interview with Ms. Laymon.)

The new and improved version of The Woods Are Dark is like seeing an old friend for the first time after a makeover – familiar with just a hint of discovery. A must read for fans of the late, great dark scribe.

Purchase The Woods Are Dark by Richard Laymon.

Cemetery Dance / Fall 2008
Reviewed by: Blu Gilliand

In his love letter to the craft, On Writing, Stephen King refers to the short stories he pumped out at the beginning of his career as “one reel horror movies.” It’s a perfect description of what you’ll find in Rick Hautala’s new collection from Cemetery Dance, Occasional Demons: almost thirty compact, visceral thrill rides full of blood, suspense, and a variety of Horrible Things, presented in quick bites that linger for a period of time far longer than it actually takes to read them.

The stories collected here span much of Hautala’s career, from his second published story to a 2004 effort that was, at the time the introduction was written, his most recent short story. (Occasional Demons has been pushed back extensively from the publisher’s first announced release date; the publication date listed on this reviewer’s advance copy is March 2006.) Although the stories are not printed in chronological order, readers will still get a sense of Hautala’s growth as a writer. The fact is, the man started strong and just keeps getting better.

The collection kicks off with “The Nephews,” a solid entry in the classic ghost-story-told-in-a-bar corner of the horror genre. “Toxic Shock” features a twist ending that would feel right at home in an EC comic. “Off The Cuff,” about a man with an irrational (or is it?) fear of appliances, feels like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Page after page, story after story, Hautala sets up the familiar tropes of the genre and sets them spinning with his own stylistic touches.

Even the last story, “Scared Crows,” a collaboration with Jim Connolly which features Hellboy, the Mike Mignola creation made famous in Dark Horse comics and Guillermo del Toro movies, feels right at home in the overall body of Hautala’s work. The authors do a great job of capturing the gruff, beer-swilling soul of Hellboy, but the story about a serial killer, a scarecrow, and another hole-in-the-wall bar doesn’t feel out of place – it’s a seamless addition to the overall collection.

Let’s hope Cemetery Dance gets this book out in time for Halloween. This is one of those collections that will be perfect for a crisp autumn night when the moon is riding high and shadows are gathering at the windows. Occasional Demons is a fun, occasionally superb batch of horror stories, and is highly recommended.

Purchase Occasional Demons by Rick Hautala.

Dutton (Penguin Group) / August 2008
Reviewed by: Martel Sardina

What are Tom and Anna Rice supposed to do when they find nearly four hundred thousand dollars in their dead tenant’s apartment? The man was a recluse, had no family, no visitors during the time he lived in their basement apartment. If they turn the money over to the police, it might be kept for perpetuity in an evidence locker or, more likely in the city of Chicago, become part of the mayor’s political machine. Why should the money be wasted when it could go to an even better cause - funding the Rice’s’ dream of becoming parents?

If Anna’s latest round of infertility treatments had resulted in pregnancy, the thought of taking the money may not have even crossed her mind. But when the pregnancy test came back negative, and Anna realized that their cumulative debt meant that was their last chance, it seemed the dream was lost. But now, after finding the dead man’s treasure, that dream could become a reality.

What Tom and Anna don’t know is that their tenant wasn’t whom they thought. The man they knew as “Bill,” was really Will Tuttle, one of the men responsible for the high profile Shooting Star case, a deadly heist that Chicago police are anxious to solve. Tom and Anna don’t know that Tuttle not only ripped off his heist partners but also a notorious drug dealer. Deciding to take Tuttle’s treasure is their first mistake; trying to keep it might be their last.

Good People is Sakey’s third novel. Some might say that Sakey knows Chicago like Dennis Lehane knows Boston. While both authors like to show the dark underbelly of their respective cities, they do it through the eyes of believable characters. Sakey uses the term “good people” throughout the novel. Everyone is the hero in his or her own story. Getting that glimpse into why each character thinks they are “good people” makes the reader empathize with Tom and Anna. It also makes their criminal counterparts that much more frightening.

Sakey also gives readers a brutally honest portrayal of the struggle infertile couples face, making all facets – physical, emotional, and financial - clear. And while the reader understands why Tom and Anna do what they do, justification doesn’t come without a price. Sakey doesn’t let Tom and Anna off the hook when it’s time to deal with the aftermath of the choices they’ve made.

Good People is a must read for those who want to take another thrill ride through Sakey’s Chicago. Like the best roller coasters, the journey is fast paced with ups, downs and a few twists that make the time invested worth waiting in line.

Purchase Good People by Marcus Sakey.

Apex Publications / June 2008
Reviewed by: Vince A. Liaguno

Fran Friel is going to make you shudder. And cringe. And look over your shoulder. And when she’s done doing all those things a master dark scribe should do, she’s going to make you cry. Yes, reading the talented New Englander’s Mama’s Boy and Other Dark Tales – a collection of fourteen shorts ranging in size from flash fiction to novella - is like a therapy session. One can almost see the motherly Friel perched Dianne Wiest-style in her comfy armchair, pen poised over notepad as she explores the darker aspects of the human condition. And at an all-inclusive cover price considerably less than that of the going therapist’s rate, you’re in for a good deal. But be forewarned: therapist Friel is going to poke and prod the psyche – relentlessly and without compromise.

Following a generous introduction by Gary A. Braunbeck, the collection kicks off with “Beach of Dreams,” the story of anthropologist Simon Rodan and his quest to get the perfect photograph of some mysterious giant creatures that wash up on the shores of the unidentified tropical island where he is stationed. What follows is a wildly inventive, hallucinatory tale of surrealism that brings the protagonist from the egoism of discovery to the altruism of self-discovery.

“Gravy Pursuits” is the first of several offerings in which Friel puts her distinctly macabre sense of humor on full display. Many a dark scribe has blundered in well-intentioned but misguided attempts to find that seamless blend of horror and humor – to find that even-handed approach in which neither element emerges dominant. But Friel pulls it off effortlessly in this story of Leonard Hogtire, a gravy connoisseur in search of his one missing ingredient. Like Leonard’s gravy, Friel never overcooks the humor, seasoning the horror with just enough gallows wit to keep the flavor balanced.

By the time the reader reaches “Mashed,” the recurring themes of food and family are made clear. For Samantha Somerville, her aversion to potatoes runs deep, stemming from a childhood prank involving a dark root cellar and an urban legend involving an old witch. If you ever doubted for a second that potatoes could be an unnerving horror foil, Friel will happily disprove you in the chilling denouement to this genuinely creepy yarn. Think The Ruins with spuds.

“The Sea Orphan” is a marvelous cross-genre blend of pirates and witchcraft all wrapped up in a distinctive period piece blanket. When young Will Pennycock finds himself orphaned after his beloved mother is hanged as a witch, he sets off on an adventure that will lead him to the high seas with a band of marauding pirates. It’s at once a story of despair and the occult, of hope and adventure, and walking the wobbly gangplank of life. Impressive in its authenticity and boldness in not shying away from the decidedly nefarious intentions of ship’s mate Duncan Rutt, “The Sea Orphan” is an enthralling read.

It’s both interesting and the single most important testament to Friel’s talent that the most haunting piece in Mama’s Boys and Other Dark Tales is also the most grounded in reality. In “Orange and Golden,” a simple, heartrending two-page story about a man and his dog inspired by the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Friel proves that horror need not be chock full of monsters and killers and otherworldly nasties to strike at the deepest recesses of the soul. Horror is more than imagination, its purest form rooted in the everyday circumstances of life and tragedy. Friel tugs painfully at those roots, setting imagination aside and opting instead to explore the horror of unexpected circumstance. For anyone brave enough to experience one of horror's alternate forms and feel something far more affecting than goosebumps, “Orange and Golden” is the story to check out. Bring a box of tissues and a bottle of anti-depressants with you. You will be profoundly haunted by this story long after you put the book down.

Animals and evil dust bunnies take center stage in “Under the Dryer.” Told from the point of view of the family dog, “Under the Dryer” again explores the protective bonds between man and dog told against the nerve-racking backdrop of an unseen world of furry creatures called the Long Tooths. Friel masterfully takes a preposterous premise that verges on silly (evil dust bunnies, come on!) and again creates an emotionally resonant portrait of loyalty amidst the bloodletting.

In three of the short-short pieces that follow, Friel ably shows off her writing skills with some literary acrobatics meant to showcase her economy of prose. “Close Shave” – as Braunbeck rightly notes in his introduction – accomplishes more in a mere 55 words than some writers accomplish in five thousand. Visceral and raw, see if you’re not left rubbing your leg at the end. That’s followed by “Connected at the Hip,” a macabre little piece about conjoined twins and the toll of frustration. “Widow” is a tantalizing tidbit of delicate, graceful interlude.

“Special Prayers – The Making of Mama” explores the insidiousness of evil and religious hypocrisy. Friel demonstrates that she knows how to grab a reader’s interest, and the opening lines from this disturbing tale should be required reading in any course on short story writing:

Babies fell from the skies over Eastville. They bounced, they bled, but none cried. Their silence was eerie – their tiny bodies splatted and split open as they hit the rooftops, the road, and the sidewalks of our little street. For miles and miles, the sky was full of falling babies, dark blots against the blue.

In “Spider Love,” Friel shows she’s got the chops for deft social commentary as she takes on the cosmetic surgery epidemic in this satiric, squirm-inducing variation of Frankenstein meets The Fly. Arachnophobes beware!

Friel launches into one of two novellas included here – a new piece called “Fine Print” – with a harrowing accident scene. Protagonist Donovan Hunter is cradling the head of his dying wife, their unborn child within her womb, when he’s approached with a choice to make between the life of his wife and child and that of another child, one who he’s told will be dead soon anyway by a stranger who claims to be in “the business of checks and balances.” There’s nary a moment to spare and a contract to sign before Donovan is catapulted into an imaginary world of contractual obligations, enslaved dreamers, and secret orders. Friel’s considerable imagination is on full display here as she creates a nightmarish world in which the choices we make come back to haunt us.

After the poetic interlude of the elegiac “Black Sleep,” Friel offers up the piece de résistance, her 2006 Bram Stoker Award-nominated novella Mama’s Boy. A beautiful young psychiatrist crosses paths with a disfigured serial killer deep in the recesses of the maximum security psych ward of Penn’s Asylum. As the patient slowly reveals the heinous child abuse that sent him to the depths of depravity, it’s Psycho meets Silence of the Lambs in this twisted tale of debauchery that explores the relationship between a mother and her son and the unspeakable ties that bind them. Suffice to say that Oedipus never had it so good. Easily adaptable to the current Fear Itself series on NBC, let’s hope that someone had the foresight/hindsight/insight to plant a copy of this masterful work of escalating suspense in the hands of a Hollywood producer.

Kudos to Apex Publications for bringing Fran Friel to a wider audience. With unflinching tenacity, Friel takes the reader to dark, discomfiting places in Mama’s Boy and Other Dark Tales. You want to close your eyes at times, but Friel has seen to it with her hypnotic writing that you can’t. It’s like she sticks toothpicks under the reader’s eyelids, forcing them to witness the horrors she has uncovered in the shadows of her writing lair. That she’s so unyielding in her pursuit of our imaginations is at once unnerving and enthralling – and the sign of a writer dedicated to her craft. The Friel deal.

Purchase Mama’s Boy and Other Dark Tales by Fran Friel.

Gauntlet Press / August 2008
Reviewed by: JG Faherty

When I was asked if I wanted to review Matheson Uncollected, I nearly jumped from my seat in joy. I’m a huge Matheson fan, have been ever since I was a kid and found out that The Incredible Shrinking Man was actually based on a book he’d written. Then, when my father told me Matheson had also written I Am Legend (filmed as The Omega Man), and the script for “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” (one of my all-time favorite Twilight Zone episodes), I was totally hooked. I read as much by him as I could, and saw all the movies made from his books and stories. Years later, he shocked me again when I found out A Stir of Echoes, another great movie, was based on a book Matheson wrote in 1958!

However, no matter how much I love reading Matheson’s stuff - and it’s the stuff of genius, make no doubt - I didn’t go into this assignment wearing my rose-colored glasses. There’s a reason collections of unreleased or released only in limited fashion stories come out, and that’s usually to repackage and sell stories that weren’t good enough to sell the first time. Quite often, the repackaging includes a special ‘treat;’ in this case, the treat is a rough version of Matheson’s Star Trek screenplay for The Enemy Within. That alone would be enough for me to have bought the book, of course, ‘cause I’m a die-hard Trekkie (original series only, please!).

So, it was with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation that I opened the book.

And those feelings were still with me a day later when I finished it.

See, I was both right and wrong. These definitely aren’t the strongest stories Matheson has ever written. In some, the language is a bit stilted and bumpy, as if Matheson had turned in a rough draft instead of a final copy. In others, the prose zings along and the stories are as imaginative as anything he’s produced, outside of his huge hits.

The majority of the stories are pure science fiction, as is to be expected. A couple veer over into the strange territories he mined for Twilight Zone, and in Stir of Echoes. To me, it seems as if he was trying to sell these stories on the open market today, and didn’t have the Matheson name to back him up, easily 75% of them would find a home in Analog or Fantasy & Science Fiction, or perhaps Weird Tales. Considering that most collections only please about 50% of the time, that’s not bad. Not bad at all. But none of the stories in here will ever be compared to “The Waker Dreams,” “The Thing,” or “No Such Thing as a Vampire.”

The same holds true for the screenplay and the incomplete novel also included in the book. Split Personality (the original title for The Enemy Within), is a fun, nostalgic read for any STAR TREK fan, but offers nothing new, except for an 8-page background piece on the evolution of the episode.

Colony Seven is the first six chapters of a novel Matheson never finished. It’s possibly the weakest piece in the collection; had it been an actual novel, I probably wouldn’t have made it to Chapter Six.

My favorite ‘extra’ is the unreleased script to No Such Thing as a Vampire, based on his short story of the same name. It was great to read the story again, and interesting to see how the script coincided and diverged from the short story. Of course, this script will only be available in the lettered edition, a bonus for spending that extra cash.

Among the short stories, my favorite was “Man with a Club,” a neat little story about a strange appearance on a city street.

Many of the stories in the book sound dated, as if written back in the 50’s and 60’s, but that is simply Matheson’s chosen style, and it doesn’t detract from the reading of the stories.

When all is said and done, Matheson Uncollected is a must for Matheson collectors and fans, Star Trek fans, and anyone who loves well-done science fiction. Just don’t expect any instant classics to emerge from the stories.

Purchase Matheson Uncollected by Richard Matheson.

Merricat Publications / May 2008
Reviewed by: Martel Sardina

Why would anyone want to kill Jack Haringa? Paul G. Tremblay admits in the anthology’s introduction that Haringa is not an evil man - despite his tendencies to brow beat authors for grammatical goofs in their writing. Instead, Tremblay tells readers that Haringa is in fact quite charming, a good person, and a good sport. What kind of man would subject himself to death twenty-eight times over? (Thirty-one, if you count the additional carnage brought on by Brian Keene and A.J. Matthews in other works of fiction - but who’s counting?)

The answer? A man with a heart of gold, one who realizes that in even in death there are still ways to support a good cause. Proceeds from the anthology’s sale will help support the newly-established Shirley Jackson Awards, whose aim is to recognize outstanding achievement in literature of psychological suspense, horror and the dark fantastic. With any luck, perhaps one of these tales of Haringa’s demise will be a contender for next year’s prize.

The first to "kill" Haringa is Jack Ketchum. In “Death to Haringa!”, Ketchum violates Camp Necon’s (the affectionate nickname for the venerable Northeastern Writer’s Conference) mantra of “What happens at Necon stays at Necon,” by revealing the secret ingredient in the beloved saugie, a tasty, hot dog-like treat infamous to the annual gathering.

For those who have heard Haringa lovingly referred to as “Monsieur Crankypants,” Stephen Mark Rainey’s tale “Woolly Solution” provides a possible explanation as to how Haringa’s pants became so cranky in the first place.

Haringa vocally expresses his displeasure with much of today’s dark fiction, sometimes blasting novelists for copping out and appealing to the masses rather than seeking to preserve a higher standard of quality. Gregory Lamberson pokes fun at Haringa by asking, “But what’s wrong with me paying for my family’s health insurance?” in his story, which definitely reads like a “padded out screenplay.”

Lee Thomas wins this reviewer’s prize for favorite story with “Jackie the Slayer.” Haringa is offed by friend and fellow writer Nicholas Kaufmann after an argument over Kaufmann’s inability to understand how to properly use a semi-colon.

Whether you know Jack Haringa or not before reading these grisly tales of woe, by the collection’s end you will have either grown to love him or you will want to write your own version of his untimely demise on March 7, 2009 - the first anniversary of “Kill Jack Haringa on Your Blog Day.”

Editor Nicholas Kaufmann was nice enough to allow Haringa to pen an after(life)word in which he sets the record straight about all of the “lies” told by friends in the preceding pages. Haringa proves to be all the things claimed by Tremblay’s introduction, the most important being a good sport for the benefit of not only readers, but also for the Shirley Jackson Awards, where through strict adherence to the bar Haringa and other members of the SJA Advisory Committee have set, a bit of his legacy will no doubt live on.

Purchase Jack Haringa Must Die!, edited by Nicholas Kaufmann.

Tachyon Publications / July 2008
Reviewed by: Michele Lee

Billed as part Cujo, part Andromeda Strain, Dogs is a modern-day science fiction/horror hybrid that couples America's love of dogs with biological terrorism. Told in straightforward, unadorned prose, Dogs follows, among others, Tessa, a woman who left the FBI after the death of her husband, due in part because her career had suffered from the bureau’s prejudice toward her husband’s Arab ethnicity. Tessa moves to Tyler, a small town outside of Washington D.C., with no clear idea on how to move on with her life after tragedy and disappointment.

The one impulsive move Tessa makes is getting a dog - a miniature poodle named Minette, whose mindless love seems to be the only good thing in Tessa's life. Her plans from there are vague and aimless, until a series of violent and deadly dog attacks - all within a small space of time - alert the town to the presence of a canine disease that will tear their world apart.

Thrust into the middle of a whole town of dogs suddenly turning on their owners, Tessa and down-to-earth good guy Jess, one of the town's few animal control officers, team up in the overwhelming task of rounding up all the dogs in Tyler. That is until Tessa begins receiving strange, threatening emails originally meant for her husband from a person who seems to know exactly where the plague came from. While Tessa embarks on a quest to clear her name, and the name of her dead husband, Jess has to fight newly-born militias (one determined to kill all the dogs, one determined to save the uninfected), multiple governmental agencies vying for control of the disaster, and the dogs themselves in a town gone mad.

Aside from being a multi-faceted story of the human love (or hate) for our canine companions, the most striking element at play here is that very few of the players know that they’re in the throes of bioterrorism. Most of the characters choose their paths - many of which will change their lives forever - based on wild guesses and fear. Readers get the feeling that they’re spying directly into the characters' lives and minds. Some are so ordinary that in the scope of the story they have only one moment of importance. With real world authenticity, some players never even realize their affect on the story unfolding around them because their motives are simple and pure, their actions mere side effects.

Dogs is a solid read and hard to put down. Despite the dark and gory potential of the situation, Kress doesn't delve fully into hardcore horror, preferring instead to present an idea, much like the idea of science gone wrong in Michael Crichton's genetic thriller Jurassic Park, and let the reader imagine the lasting depth of the terror for themselves.

Purchase Dogs by Nancy Kress.