Post-Fest Post

[handful_ofdust]

First up: The Festival of Fear Report.

Yes, it's a bit of a grind, and yes, literature was severely underrepresented…indeed, many people there seemed a bit weirded out that there was any representation, but those sort of mouth-breathing looky-loos we can all do without. I was sitting between Don Hutchison and the guys from Dark Sky Films, who had their remastered version of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre on all day, every day, which drew a very particular type of crowd; at one point, I leant over to him and whispered: "I think I’m turning into H.G. Wells", because a lot of them did have this vaguely pig/simian/dog/cow-like look—-an unattractive combination of utter vacancy if they didn’t catch my eyes and self-protective contempt if they did, like I might suddenly jump up and try to make them READ something. I mean, heavens to Betsy!

Nevertheless, by the end, I found I’d sold all the Loonie Dreadfuls, plus those extra eight I asked Brett Savory to bring by on Saturday. Indeed, the "you may not think you have fifteen dollars for a book [that normally sells for $26.00, which makes it all the more insane I’m offering both for $25.00], but I know you have one dollar" thing worked so well as a general gateway drug-type introductory pitch that Steve and I later made "The Diarist" and "Folly" into folded-over black and white pamphlets, and sold those for fifty cents. It’s like giving something away, except A) you’re not really GIVING it and B) sometimes, they really do come back for the whole collection. Not to mention how you leave with a lot of pocket-change.

Better still, I also sold all but two copies of The Worm in Every Heart and all but seven copies of Kissing Carrion, both out of a re-order of twenty books each. And The Worm was by far the bigger seller, which pleased me no end.

So, to sum up: My purpose was to get seen, get my name out there and hopefully get read and recognized; I believe that was accomplished. It's also really energizing to at least be around people who (in the main) know both what horror is and what it can be, people you don't necessarily find yourself having that same stupid "but why do you want to do THAT?" conversation with, before skipping forward to the "good" parts. And like I said to Liisa Ladouceur (of the Royal Sarcophagus Society, who’ve just opened a cool-ass online shop—-hint, hint), at the time, I enjoyed it so much more than I ever thought I would that I'm really looking forward to next year, when I’m going to try and push the Rue Crew to put all the authors as close to each other as possible, to create a sort of "book island" in the midst of a sea of other horror media; we’ll see how that works, if and so.

Monday was mainly all about decompressing and dealing with Cal, who is toothing like a maniac. The highlight of the day was finding out, via email, that the people who were once interested in me doing a book on Canadian Film are…still interested, amazingly enough, since it’s been two years of silence from my end. So it’s time to dust off my outline and get cracking on that sample chapter, finally. More energy! Perhaps it will even help me ward off this cold that I seem to be courting, after only three whole days of constantly breathing 40,000 other people’s recycled germs.

Other stuff:

Tonight I rented and viewed Clive Barker’s The Plague, a straight-to-DVD original (actually directed and co-written by a guy named Hal Masonberg, but don’t let that stop you) which, I’m happy to say, is already on my shortish list of Best Films I’ve Seen This Year. Certainly of Best Horror, let’s put it that way…it’s creepy, psychologically well-observed, vicious, wonderfully framed and cut, with a true undercurrent of mournful dread and spiritual speculation. Essentially, an entire generation of children fall suddenly comatose for ten years, during which no child is born awake; the ecosystem and balance of society are thrown askew, no one can move forward, parents are locked in a toxic loop of perpetual hope and mourning combined, and the "lucky" kids who didn’t get hit with this curveball are left to fend for themselves. And then, fifteen minutes in—-the kids wake up. Which turns out not to be such a good thing, after all.;) See it! These people—-ie, the filmmakers—-are ones to watch, and I’m glad Barker’s allied himself with them.

My friend green_trilobite finally kicked me a cheap copy of The Book of Robert E. Howard, containing the legendary "Pigeons From Hell". WOW, what a crazy-ass story! I especially love this moment, which A) could only have been put in the mouth of a guy from the North by a guy from the South and B) becomes pure inappropriate comedy, once you kick in the sheriff’s reply:

"Voodoo!" [Griswell] muttered. "I’d forgotten about that—-I could never think of black magic in connection with the South. To me witchcraft was always associated with old crooked streets in waterfront towns, overhung by gabled roofs that were old when they were hanging witches in Salem; dark musty alleys where black cats and other things might steal at night. Witchcraft always meant the old towns of New England, to me—-but all this is more terrible than any New England legend—-these sombre pines, old deserted houses, lost plantations, mysterious black people, old tales of madness and horror—-God, what frightful ancient terrors there are on this continent fools call ‘young’!"

"Here’s old Jacob’s hut," announced Buckner, bringing the automobile to a halt.

And, okay…do I actually have to cut for spoilers on a story fifty years old?

…I’m still not exactly sure what the hell use the making of "zuvembies" is to anyone, to be perfectly frank. Yes, the implication is that chicks usually make themselves into "zuvembies", rather than whoever they want revenge on, but when you factor Mulatto Maid Joan into the equation, I’m like: "All right, but now you won’t know how great your revenge is when you get it, because you’re not really YOU anymore." Of course, then you also won’t have to deal with getting potentially caught and lynched, the way you would if you just took a butcher-knife to the bitch while she slept…but OTOH, making Miss Celia into something which lives forever, has hypnotic powers, can puppet corpses around telepathically and "lives to rejoice in the slaughter of human beings"? Honey, wasn’t this the same woman who tied you up naked and horse-whipped you when she was just a simple racist person? Increasingly, it really strikes me how nobody involved was really thinking things out down at Blassenville Manor, on that (or any other) particular string of evenings.

Oh, and John Farris? Robert E. Howard wants his ideas back, because I now see where much of All Heads Turn as the Hunt Goes By must have come from. Horror: It runs on recycling, more so than any other type of genre, even! But hey, that’s okay. More for everybody, and you get to eat it twice!

On that note, therefore…food. Then bed.

Comments

[phantom_wolfboy]

I suspect Griswell's words are Howard twitting his old friend H.P. Lovecraft, cause that's just the sort of thing Lovecraft liked to say.

Not thinking seems endemic to revenge curses . . . Angel, for one, and Imhotep in the mummy: "Yes, he's buried and being chewed on by carnivore beetles, but if he ever gets out he'll be immortal, superpowerful, and able to destroy the world! What a punishment!"

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

I'd thought that myself re Imhotep, but put it down to general pulpiness. And since this is pulp too...Good point.

[ex-mightygo.livejournal.com]

Nevertheless, by the end, I found I’d sold all the Loonie Dreadfuls

True story - I didn't go to the Expo (fuck Hobby Star right in their ass, that's what I say, and will until I have something I need to promote there), but two of my roommates did, and in between Carrie Fisher stories they mentioned "yeah, one of the horror authors was just doing this brilliant thing where they sold you a pamphlet thing for a buck, as a sampler."

I dunno if either of them bought it, but they were really impressed with the sales gimmick. I think it's a winner and you should keep doing it at future cons.

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

Ha! Cool. Believe me, I will.

[strange.livejournal.com]

Send me your suggestions and ideas about book guests at the FOF, it's a personal pet project of mine to get literature taken more seriously there each year - this was the first year for example that we had lit panels, last year was the first year authors had permanent tables. Baby steps, but all input helps.