Western Wednesday

It’s another Western Wednesday, so saddle up your horse (or lover, if you are into that sort of thing…oh, wait, that reminds me of an episode of Bones where they had to determine who done it at a fetish farm where submissive males had to pretend to be horses. Won’t go into that, but there were riding crops involved…um, I digress…) and head out onto the trail with me.

A while back I mentioned I was experimenting with my latest western by writing it completely without a road map, just an opening idea, no character names or any sort of written synopsis or plot. It was tough going, though normally I use minimal plot sheets and only recipe cards with character descriptions anyway. I have a great admiration for writers who can write on the fly like that.

That book has now become my 32nd Lance Howard Black Horse Western sale. It’s called “The Killing Kind” and is a bit different from most of my previous books for the line and more like what I write under my own name. The novel relies much more on suspense and tension than out and out gunfights and complicated plot devices. The theme centers heavily around redemption, repentance, and second chances in life, as a young rancher with a secret past is forced to face his misdeeds when a man he thought dead shows up to take revenge. It pushes a number of boundaries for me personally because I wasn’t able to rely on certain western genre tricks to advance the plot, so I had to try different things. There are also some brutal moments, and what I hope will be something a bit unusual for a BHW, which I won’t give away here.

I think one of the things I really like best about the western is its versatility. It is sometimes hard convincing non-western readers that the westerns isn’t all cattle drives and gunfights, though of course there’s enough of those things to satisfy readers looking for that too. But when I say the western has “range” I don’t just mean for cows. The genre allows for so much more, right down to blending it with the supernatural and science fiction, as well as romance and mystery. The only limits it has are those of the imagination.

Which is why I urge readers who haven’t read them to give them a chance. My Lance Howard westerns can be found in or interloaned by most libraries, and there are plenty of other great authors working in the line (for more on Black Horse westerns check out http://www.blackhorsewesterns.org/ and westerns at http://www.halebooks.com/ ) Or sample a number of the authors in the Where Legends Ride anthology (from Amazon and other online retailers.) I think you might be surprised.

Terror Tuesday: Ghost Hunting or Faction?

Time for another Terror Tuesday, little witches and wizards. October, the witching month, is only a couple days away, so I hope everyone is ordering their horror books early.

Well, the new season of Ghost Whisperer has started and the first episode isn’t a big improvement on last year’s mess. I really like this show and hate to see the direction it’s going. It’s almost like they are trying to kill it. Usually the addition of a kid to a series like that spells instant death, but since this is a show about ghosts maybe it will “survive”. If it weren’t for Jennifer Love Hewitt and her marvelous, um, er, well, I’ll hang with it as long as she is on it. But lose Jamie Kennedy, the kid and go back to what worked in the first couple seasons.

Medium also started on CBS and I swear I must have slept through last season’s finale. It picked up where I didn’t leave off, but at least returned to formula.

Vampire Diaries has improved a little, but still seems a bit toothless. I’m giving it a couple more episodes to get more, um, bite.

How does everyone feel about the various ghost hunting and creature discovering type shows out there? I used to love Ghost Hunters and the like, but lately I find myself growing somewhat weary of them. Some of it is because they all seem a lot more staged to me. Of course, when they don’t have results, we get a disappointing episode, so maybe it’s a no-win situation for the shows. But making things out of nothing isn’t a whole lot better. I don’t see a lot of solid research and science behind these shows, nor a high level of qualification for some their hosts. Granted, most of them are engaging, personable, but are they really qualified to conduct scientific investigations and either debunk or substantiate actual haunting, cryptocreatures and the like? Some are, I am sure. But I don’t know their credentials. And the moment someone says, “Dude, something touched my leg” I get a little wiggly. It’s great supernatural fiction when I am writing it but in real life let’s face it, we all get creepy feelings sometimes and they don’t mean there’s a ghost groping us. Some of the EMF and other meters I can’t take very serious, either. There are too many alternate explanations. I would like to accompany one of these investigations to see just what goes on behind the scenes. Maybe a lot of my trepidation comes because I have become cynical and distrustful about anything news- or TV-related, because I know it’s a ratings game and everything runs on money. The more ghosts, UFOs and hairy apes running naked in the woods you conjure up, the longer your show lasts. I only hope there’s no hanky panky involved, nothing manufactured.

I have the feeling the genuine ghost hunters (and I am not slamming the show because I do enjoy it and like the guys and gals involved and I am sure they know what they are doing) and people who experience paranormal happenings don’t get the publicity or fame. Or like the psychics who don’t make money on their talent. I also have the feeling they are subjected to ridicule from the other side because the actually debunk 99 percent of what they find. But to me, that makes the case for that 1 percent a whole lot stronger and more believable.

What do you all think? How believable are these shows to you? Would you like more depth in the studies? Let me know your thoughts.


The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time.
In Paperback

Western Wednesday

It’s another Western Wednesday so saddle up and ride with me a spell.

It’s probably no secret that in most fiction, Western or any other genre, the villain of the piece is often as fascinating—or at least should be—as the hero. Sometimes folks can even empathize with the bad guy, and other times they just love to hate the hell of him. Or her. In my westerns I spend a lot of time trying to get into the head of the bad guy, and it’s not always a pleasant experience. In fact, it usually leaves me drained, feeling a bit dirty. There are some mindsets in this world that rational people (not that I have ever been accused of such!) have trouble understanding, let alone wallowing in for as long as it takes to write a novel. Since I step into the villain’s boots as well as the hero’s in my books, it can be a troubling experience to seek insight into their motivations and acts. There are just some folks you don’t want to understand, some things in the darkness you don’t want to shine a light on and look at full in the face.

The villain of my Lance Howard novel The Devil’s Rider, Jeremy Trask, is one such fella. He’s a mass murderer, violent and mean as a rattlesnake, and his deeds in the book are on a fairly high level of violence for a western. He is a troubled individual as well, a man constantly seeking revenge on the father who made him what he is, though he has succeeded by leaps and bounds in surpassing his patriarch’s corrupt personality. And the men, and woman, who ride with him aren’t much for church-going, either.

The Devil’s Rider pushes the Western’s boundaries in a number of areas as well. It takes a hard look at homelessness in the form of a young woman named Spring Treller, the intricacies of revenge and how far a man will go to get it as the hero seeks Trask out for killing his brother, and the taboos of a Lesbian killer. The book is due out in paperback October 1st and you can preorder copies from the publisher at http://www.ulverscroft.com/title.php?sqlCmd=isbn%3D9781847828507 (Copies of the hard cover may still be available from http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/ and http://www.amazon.co.uk/ )

I’ll end with an opening excerpt from the book, spotlighting Trask and his cluttered mind.

The Devil’s Rider

The sun sinking into the distant mountains made the town of Baton Ridge appear awash in blood. Scarlet stained the encroaching shadows and sparkled from water in troughs like glittering blood rubies.

To Jeremy Trask, perched atop his horse, even the air smelled of the gunmetal scent of fresh-spilled blood. He could almost feel its silky wetness running through his fingers.

A prophesy, he reckoned, one that would be fulfilled in only a few fleeting moments. A fragmented laugh whispered through his thin lips. His scrubbed-gray eyes narrowed under a battered Stetson whose rim showed a hole where a bullet had punched through not two days ago.

He shifted in his saddle, nerves biting like fire ants under his skin, and glanced at the three others sitting atop their horses to his right. He’d reined them to a halt on the hill above the town, two men and one woman dressed in dusters and low-pulled hats. Each face held a look of vicious anticipation. These riders of his, they were as bloody a bunch as he had ever known, though anybody who knew him would have said they were greenhorns compared to their leader.

No, pa, don’t hit me anymore…please…I won’t do it again, I swear I won’t, I swear--

Pain stabbed his skull as a black memory echoed from the past. His gaze snapped back to the town, a surge of—what? Fear? Yes, it felt like fear that swelled in his belly. But not present fear. No, something worse, the kind that crawled from the depths of a fella’s mind, made him relive the times a boy had cowered beneath a father’s pounding fists; made him recollect the awkward and indifferent faces of folks in a town who had turned their back on a child, folks who had given up one of their own to a bounty hunter sent to bring in a bank robber.

Another whispered laugh escaped his lips. Had they only realized the true extent of Jeremy Trask’s evil, known of the men he had murdered just because watching a fella bleed his last gave him pleasure, or of the women he had raped because nothing felt better than that moment of utter dominance over a weaker helpless creature; had they but known, they would have strung him up before that bounty man arrived and spared themselves the horror that would soon take place.

But they had not. And now their mistake sat on a hillside, a Smith & Wesson at his waist, a Winchester in his saddleboot and a powerful rage surging through his veins. The time of reckoning was at hand. He was Fate’s dark angel of vengeance.

Terror Tuesday: True Ghost Experiences

It's Terror Tuesday time again, goblins and ghouls. Halloween is quickly approaching so get out to your stores, ask for more horror writers and a wider selection! Order books online from Indies and new authors. Unless you want me visiting your bedroom in the dead of night like the creepy Burger King guy. Note to Jennifer Love Hewitt: this does not apply to you. Please let me visit your house in the dead of night...oh, and remove that restraining order. I swear I'll cut the phone calls down from a couple hundred to maybe fifty...

This week something a bit different. Jim Taylor is a long-time pulp, comics and bodybuilding fan who shares many of the same lists of interest I do, including my own Golden Perils pulp discussion list. In chatting with him about modern vs classic horror, he mentioned an experience he had and I thought it might be cool if occasionally in this blog we could get testimonials from folks about their real ghostly encounters, or encounters with any aspect of the uknown, the supernatural. So without further ado, I will let Jim tell you in his own words about his spooky visitation...

This happened back when I was a teenager. First, I have to explain I was something of a skeptic as a kid. I thought that ghosts were in the same category as Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. I can remember laughing behind the back at a teacher who said he had seen a ghost. "How could anyone who is college-educated believe in ghosts ?" I thought then. Then about a year later, this happened to me.

I was about 14. I was visiting my grandparents. My grandparents' house had two front rooms, a bed-room and a living room. There were two front doors, one into each room. There was a long porch in front. There were steps to the left of the porch and a window facing those steps. The bed was arranged so you could look out this window. One night I was sleeping in that bedroom. I woke up and saw a man dressed in white coming up those steps.

This was no glowing, transparent Hollywood ghost. It looked just like a man dressed in white. My first thought was that he was a motorist whose car had broken down. I rubbed my eyes. He was still there, passing the first front door. Then I heard the second front door open and close! (But it was locked!?) Then he was standing in the connecting doorway! I pretended to be asleep with my eyes barely open. He came within inches of my bed. Then I saw him go and crouch in the corner (but that corner was filled with newspapers).

Slowly, I turned over to watch him, pretending I was turning over in my sleep. A car on the highway outside suddenly passed, throwing its headlights into that corner. There was no one there! I have since wondered if when I thought he was crouching, he was actually passing through the floor!

I got up and turned all the lights on. The front door was locked! I tried to wake someone else up. I shook them. No luck. Everyone else was deep, deep asleep. (Something else strange.) I went back to bed. Needless to say I didn't sleep any more that night. Finally I heard someone else up. I got up and told them my story. They didn't believe me. They still don't. They say I was dreaming. If it was dreaming, it was a level of dreaming I have never achieved since- dreaming with my eyes wide-open!

I never slept in that bed again. That was a spare bedroom. It's my belief that on certain nights "something" came to that bed. That night it came and got disappointed that I was in its bed. Forever after that, whenever I visited my grand-parents, I slept on the couch. That experience made me more open when anyone else tells me they saw a ghost or whatever. (If you're interested, I'll tell the story of the man who yelled "Boo!" at a Bigfoot.)

I think my dad's ghost haunts our house. He died about nine years ago. He called my mother "Mama". He died from a series of strokes and that was about the only word he could say when he died. I've heard his voice a few times since, calling, "Mama". At first I thought it was because of imagination or because I heard it so much when he was alive. Now I'm not so sure. My mother has heard it more often than I have. (I've also seen UFOs twice in my life.)

I'm not saying these things happen all the time to me but they DID happen. I believe, if you live long enough, something unexplainable will happen to you. Most people try to come up with a logical explanation of what happened to them and perhaps come to believe that "logical explanation, but SOMETHING DID HAPPEN!

I might add that twice in the last month, when I happened to get up in the middle of the night, I have seen the figure of a man (my dad's ghost?) running from our dining room into the kitchen. I've followed, turned the light on and no one was there! It makes me wonder is he there every night or does he only appear occasionally when I get up in the middle of the night? The old "If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?" argument.

-- Jim Taylor

Pushing Boundaries Revisted: Got Story?

I recently read a quote by shock rocker Alice Cooper that made a lot of sense to me, because while what he was saying applied to music I could easily relate it to book writing as well. The quote went something to the effect of—going from memory—“You can’t shock today’s audiences anymore so instead you have to give them a good show.”

There’s been a lot of talk about pushing boundaries in the Black Horse Western line in a number of blogs lately, and I pontificated on it myself within the past few months. Basically, I thought pushing boundaries simply for the sake of pushing them and/or seeing what you could get away with was not the proper way to go at your writing. And complaining about it if the effort was rejected was a waste of time when that energy could be better put to use finding more creative ways to tell stories. I think Cooper’s advice, applied to this, augments what I personally feel. You really can’t shock today’s readers (Ok, maybe you can, depending on the demographic the company is selling to, because obviously an all-out sex scene is going to toast some pants in readers expecting G-rated material, and graphic violence or language is going to pop the petit fours of readers expecting a cozy) so you have to give them a good story.

It’s all about the story, no matter what genre you write in. Tell a good tale, find creative ways to channel your talent into other areas of the story if you are facing restrictions, but most of all give your readers the best reading experience you are capable of giving them. Not only do you owe it to them—they are plunking down their hard earned roubles, after all—but you owe it to yourself as a writer. Cooper performs not only shock rock, metal and so forth, but he also sings classics such as “Pretty Ballerina” (Left Bank Cover) and “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” (from the “Go to Hell” album). He expands his repertoire, challenges himself, and gives his listeners something unexpected and fresh. Shouldn’t writers be striving to do the same thing?

So maybe it isn’t a question of pushing boundaries. Maybe it would be better stated as “shifting” boundaries. Creative boundaries within the writer him/herself. That way you wouldn’t be pushing just to push, you’d be pushing to grow, expand your talent and your range. And likely expanding your audience as well. You’d be giving them the good show.

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time.
In Papeback

Western Wednesday: Guest Blogger Bobby Nash

This week Dark Bits continue with its series of guest blogs by writers appearing in the upcoming Where Legends Ride II. Bobby Nash writes novels (Evil Ways, Fantastix), comic books and graphic novels (Life In The Faster Lane, Fuzzy Bunnies From Hell, Bubba The Redneck Werewolf, Demonslayer), and short stories (Lance Star: Sky Ranger, Domino Lady: Sex As A Weapon, Full Throttle Space Tales Vol. 2: Space Sirens, Startling Stories Magazine). He has upcoming work in various anthologies and comics including, The Green Hornet, Secret Agent X, Ravenwood: Stepson of Mystery, Operation: Silver Moon, Yin Yang, and Bloody Olde Englund. Please visit Bobby at http://bobby-nash-news.blogspot.com www.bobbynash.com www.facebook.com/bobbyenash or www.twitter.com/bobbynash

Take it away, Bobby…

THIS HORSE AIN’T DEAD, JIM!

I recently wrote my first western story.

Like most boys, I grew up with a slight fascination for westerns, although we usually referred to it as Cowboys and Indians when I was a child. Also like most kids, my introduction to the western came through television and movies played on TV on the weekends. I remember lying in my grandmother’s living room floor staring up at the Lone Ranger galloping along astride Silver as he unloaded his pistols while that exciting theme music played.

As I got older there came more movies and reruns of shows like Rawhide, Gunsmoke, and Bonanza. Plus, I recall getting a big kick out of seeing the Six Million Dollar Man on The Big Valley for the first time. I won’t bore you with a list of my favorites, but I will say that I have a framed Tombstone movie poster hanging proudly in my pool room.

Despite my enjoyment of watching westerns, I had never read a western.

That changed when I met a group of western writers on-line. This group’s love of the genre is contagious and found myself reading many of their books, with more in the to read pile. While looking into novels to read I was struck with how few westerns I find on the shelves of my local bookstore and I wondered how such a thing could be.

Westerns are dead.

I’ve heard or read this phrase, or one similar to it, in multiple places. It is sometimes stated as a truth in the publishing industry, but often the phrase is said with a hint of longing. Here are two examples.

An agent used it on his blog when asked why he didn’t represent westerns. To him, “westerns are dead” meant that there are few publishers putting out westerns so it’s not a genre he represents because the odds are stacked against selling a western novel. Based on the half a shelf at my local bookstore, I really can’t fault him for his thinking, though I don’t necessarily agree with it.

Actor Mark Harmon mentioned that “no one is making westerns anymore” on the special features for the latest DVD release of his television series NCIS. For those that do not follow the show, it is a “Naval cop show” featuring crimes by or against Navy and Marines. It’s a fun show. One episode had them trekking to Arizona where they ended up on horseback out in the wilderness and talked about how horses aren’t used to the guns as they used to be because no one is making westerns anymore. As an actor who has done westerns, his comment felt more like a longing for more.

Everything is cyclical.

The popularity of certain genres come and go. I believe that the days of the western having mass popularity will come around again and I think it will happen soon.

As I mentioned at the beginning, I recently wrote my first western story.

Part of the group of writers I mentioned above formed Express Westerns. Last year they released an anthology of western tales called Where Legends Ride. It is a fun read featuring several exciting stories. If you like reading good stuff, then you should check it out. Express Westerns is back with a second volume coming soon. Howard listed the contributor’s list in a previous blog and I am happy to be a part of this new volume that you will be hearing more about very soon.

As a writer, I love a challenge. When the opportunity to try my hand at writing a western short story came, I relished the opportunity. My story, Shadows On The Horizon, was accepted for the new volume and boy was it a lot of fun to write. I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Howard Hopkins for his kind words and motivation, plus inviting me to write this. And there are not enough kind words to be said about editors Nik Morton and Charlie Whipple, who really helped make the story better.

I’d also like to thank William Shatner, who, unbeknownst to him, gave my character, Doc Brand a voice. As I was putting together my story idea, the episode of Boston Legal aired with Shatner on horseback at a cattle ranch and I knew I’d found Doc’s voice. Sometimes lightning strikes that way. I guess I’ll have to send him a copy when the book comes out. This paragraph also helped form the title of this little missive.

Westerns aren’t dead.

They are alive and well and in good hands.

Terror Tuesday: Nightmares for Kids

Closing in on the Halloween season here in Maine. Chilly nights are already turning the leaves red and gold and the air is taking on the lovely scent of dying foliage…Now is the time to order your horror books for those early autumn evenings. Especially for the kiddies.

Not only do I still love spooky things, but I loved them even more so as a kid. Dark Shadows, Scooby Doo, monster movies on late night TV—all sparked my imagination and had me looking in the closet and under the bed before going to sleep. But it was fun. It gave me that warm creepy feeling, but there was a kind of innocence with spooky books and shows for kids back in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

Kids grow up a lot faster nowadays and much of what appears in books and on TV no longer has that element of scary fun to it. Something has been lost, and it saddens me. I suppose every generation tends to look back that way, but what appears now and has been appearing over the past couple decades doesn’t feel the same. It’s a different world.

Ok, maybe it is. But I can tell you from recent experiences with my own horror series for kids in the 8-12+ range children aren’t all that different and they still crave that innocent spooky scare. As long as you make it cool, of course. Or whatever adjective they are using nowadays. I’m still stuck on groovy.

That was one of my main reasons for writing The Nightmare Club series for children, to bring back some of that old-fashioned spooky fun, while still making it relevant for modern children and the issues they, in many cases, are forced to deal with in their daily life, such as broken families and abuse, racism and grief.

But mostly I wanted kids to have the same fun I did with series like Alvin Fernald and The Hardy Boys, Scooby Doo and Doc Savage. Nightmare Club combines elements of those, but the spooky ghosts and ghoulies who show up in the mythical Maine town of New Salem are real—headless paperboys, dragon boy ghosts, willow witches and maybe even a vampire or two.

The Nightmare Club focuses on the spook-hunting antics of a group of misfit kids who have come together for a common cause—clean the ghosts out of New Salem. There’s heavyset Moose with his pet pig, Barnabas, Nerd, October, Orie, Sparks and a girl named Alliecat, who wants to horn in on the adventure. I’ve been lucky enough lately to have two of the books, The Deadly Dragon & The Headless Paperboy, read before 4th and 5th grade classes, and had some wonderful feedback from the kids. I think they really enjoy the return of fun in their books. Adults have been enjoying them, too. For now, especially during the Halloween season, I think it important to let kids go back to being kids. There’s time enough to grow up later.

The Nightmare Club has three books in the series so far: The Headless Paperboy, The Deadly Dragon & The Willow Witch. Check them out on the Club Kid page at http://www.howardhopkins.com/nightmareclub.htm

What series did you enjoy as children?

The Nightmare Club: Where Everyday is Halloween!
In paperback

9/11

Eight years ago today, September 11, 2001, nearly 3000 people lost their lives at the whim of a madman and a group of zealots without a single shred of respect for human life. On a bright sunny day like any other, people went to work at the World Trade Center or boarded planes, unaware this day would be their last.

Few words can describe the horror this nation and others who lost friends and loved ones felt after this outrage against everything humankind should and does stand for. I remember the shock I felt seeing those towers crumble. And the sickness the rose up inside my very soul upon finding out these acts of sheer insanity were committed by a human agency. No…human is too good a word for the trash that murdered so many innocent people. Garbage. Scum. Bastards. There is no word strong enough for the heinous acts these sonsofbitches perpetrated, nor any powerful enough to describe the depravity and soullessness of their ilk. They are beyond evil. If there is a Hell, surely these zealots were spawned from its deepest bowels, and surely there they will return. I cannot think of a single punishment that would suffice for these men who hide behind their cloaks of righteousness. I don’t think an eternity of punishment would be enough.

It would take a better person than I to forgive those involved. It would take a smarter person than I ever to understand the need to create terror and suffering, or to take innocent human life. Why? Why destroy so many blameless people and their families’ lives in the name of something that is supposed to unite and be a force for good? What right do they have to corrupt the very ideals and tenets of a faith by slaughtering those who follow a different path? I know there are no real answers for this. These people are simply defective, vile excuses for human beings. Maybe that’s the hardest part, that there are no good answers for such behavior, no excuses for it. As human beings we crave answers, understanding. But such behavior cannot truly be understood, except by those whose minds are twisted with hate and rage and evil.

But today is not for those monsters. Today is a day to reflect on those who were lost, honor them, and comfort the living they left behind. And to reaffirm the grandest qualities of the human spirit –compassion, kindness, love, hope, and perseverance in the face of tragedy.

It is also a day to question and seek truths, within ourselves and about the great scope of mankind and our purpose here on this world. And a day to reassess, learn from the past to protect the future, so nothing so heinous can ever happen again.

Take a moment today to think of those lost, their families and friends. Give their loved ones comfort, hand their hands and let them know you care.

As Roosevelt said about the attack on Pearl Harbor, this day, 9/11, will live in infamy. Just make sure those lost live forever in your hearts.

New Fall Shows: Vampire Diaries

The new fall TV season is upon us and I find myself a bit ambivalent about even the returning shows I enjoy, though there aren’t that many anymore. Smallville and Ghost Whisperer I especially like but the networks in some kind of brain spasm put them on opposite each other, so I have to tape one. Ghost Whisperer is jumping ahead five years, and after losing its way last season I am not sure that will help matters any. Usually the moment a kid is added to a show of that type certain ratings doom isn’t far behind. But it does have Jennifer Love Hewitt, so I will watch to the bitter end, no matter what they do to it. On Smallville Clark seems to have gone a little Goth. Hmm. But a number of other heroes will be showing up, so I think it will be a good season. Medium moves to right after GW, and that is actually a good move. Big Bang is consistently hilarious and I think will remain so. And Lost when it comes back mid-season should be worth the wait.

I didn’t really want to get into anything new because I don’t have much time anymore to get hooked on shows. I am tempted to watch Witches of Eastwick, though I didn’t care for the movie, but liked Charmed. There were a couple others whose names escape me.

One is Vampire Diaries, which I saw tonight, er, minus the few minutes I slept through, because, yes, I was THAT excited over it. I admit I thought, “the CW passed up the Dark Shadows remake for THIS?” as I watched it. I felt like I had seen it all before, with its elements of Twilight, True Blood and every other teen CW show. The actors looked mostly alike, barely distinguishable from every other CW actor (remember the old days when you could tell actors apart and they weren’t all still wearing diapers?) It is nowhere in the league of CBS’s short-lived Moonlight from last year. The opening scene actually boded well, fairly scary, but it was egg drop soup instead of Hot & Sour from there on. I can see potential but the show needs to find its own voice and things to make it distinctive. Cookie cutter actors and material is really getting old, much like best-seller copying best-seller until every story reads like the one before. Perhaps it will grow out of that and mature into something more original.

I realize the CW courts a younger audience, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have more of a range. You’d think with the success of Lost, networks would get out of that chase-the-tail mentality. It’s almost like they get together in a room with people who learned to produce programs solely by watching only shows from 2000 up, ignoring any of the classics. Things start feeling like copies of copies, each time the image degrading by a significant percentage.

But of course, some potentially great horror shows never got the chance to find their audience because studios don’t stick with things long enough. Anyone recall American Gothic? Network didn’t give it a chance, but there was a potentially great show.

Aw well, can’t be too harsh after only one episode, so I’ll keep watching. I am hoping it won’t, er, suck for an entire season.

Now, if you'll excuse me...someone's at the door...

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time.
In trade paperback.

Western Wednesday: Guest Blogger, Ray Foster

This week’s Western Wednesday continues with its series of guest bloggers who will be appearing in the upcoming Where Legends Ride II anthology. This time I turn over Dark Bits to Ray Foster, veteran western scribe who writes Black Horse novels under the name Jack Giles. Hailing from England, Ray is married with six children and a western-writing granddaughter and is an inspiration to all after recovering from a stroke a few years back to return to writing and publishing new novels. His short story, A Time to Live, appears in the first Where Legends Rider anthology. Check out Ray’s blog at http://jacksopenrange.blogspot.com Without further ado, Ray Foster…

A question was raised on a friend’s piece on Facebook which asked why are the British so besotted with the Wild West?

Because we are - a simple enough explanation.

I mean when I was growing up the western was everywhere. Saturday morning pictures with Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers and Zorro. On the telly with “The Cisco Kid”, “The Range Rider”and “The Lone Ranger”. In comics with the likes of Jeff Arnold in the “Eagle”. And my dad was reading westerns.

Like I say - the western was everywhere.

At five years of age I donned my Stetson and holstered my silver Chad Valley six shooter cap guns and went looking for a horse. Sixty years on and I'm still doing it. Crazy but we'd endure anything to watch a western.

So where did this enthusiasm for the wild west begin? My grandfather has to take some of the blame. He was a printer by trade but back in the 1930s he was a typesetter. The story goes that he got hooked on a western that he was typesetting - well, the bit he was doing. The author was Oliver Strange.

From then on he became a bit of a western addict and passed this on to his son who passed it on. Gran was different. She was in to the Jalna books of Mazo de la Roche. That was all we ever saw her read until, one Christmas, we discovered her secret cache of magazines under her bed - Zane Grey magazines.

Like I said before westerns were everywhere.

So the way I see it westerns are a part of our culture.

Let's face it, if the Brits hadn't of nipped over in the “Mayflower” on a day trip there may never have been a West to be won and we'd have been watching repeats of Robin Hood and King Arthur. Come to think of it we do anyway.

Then between 1680 and 1770 the Brits thought it a good idea to transport our criminals to America. By 1776 a lot of folks had had enough at told the reigning monarch to get on his horse because they didn't want to be Brits anymore - they were Americans. They declared their Independence in British accents - only because the movies hadn't been invented back then.
From then on the West got pushed further and further back until they arrived at the Mississippi. That was when it was declared that anything beyond was the Wild West.Here legends were born. Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, Wild Bill Hickock, Frank and Jesse James and Billy the Kid. The Brits were still around either in the form of the likes of Yorkshire-born Ben and Billy Thompson or investors in the cattle business. Come to that anything that would give a return on British investment.

By then everyone was getting involved. Immigrants were flooding in from Europe, Russia, China - well, someone had to build the railroads.

And when you really think about those legends that I mentioned earlier I reckon if the family trees were traced back they would have their roots firmly planted in British soil.I wonder if there was a Scot called McDonald who hoped to make his fortune in the California gold fields only for his great-grandson to discover that there was gold in “them thar hamburgers”.
But there you go.

To my mind while the history of a nation belongs to America, at the same time, it is a part of many cultures. The history and that brief moment in time when the West was wild encompasses many people.Western fans are like the West itself - made up of many things. It is why we read about, watch the movies and write about it. It is why we Brits are so besotted.

Terror Tuesday: Return of the Spider

Time for another Terror Tuesday, scary ones. Poof! Hmm, what was that? Oh, yes, the sound of yet another reluctant book store manager going up in sacrificial flame for not stocking more horror authors and titles. I do so enjoy a good cook out. But, now, wouldn’t it just be better to fill those shelves instead of facing a “grilling” by irate horror fans? I know it would. Please, don’t make me send the Mr. Rogers zombie after you…

The Spider. The Master of Men. Though technically he was considered a hero pulp character, his adventures run the range of horror—from cannibalistic criminals in The City that Dared Not Eat to evil women pirates in Corpse Cargo (I recall dating a few of those in high school, which was a horror all of its own. High school, I mean. The women pirates were kind of hot even with only one eye...)

The Spider, if you recall earlier blogs, was Richard Wentworth, a supposedly bored millionaire who spent his time gliding his bow over his prized Stradivarius and palling around with lovely socialite Nita van Sloan. He had a house man, a Hindu or Sikh, depending on the novel and writer (details such as this were not a point often worried about in Spider novels and various ghost writers handled the series, though the principle scribe was Norvell Page, who also often used the two terms interchangeably), and various other aides who helped him in his war against super criminals. It was one of the bloodiest pulp series of its day, the 1930s through early ‘40s, and even still can be quite shocking at times to modern readers.

Wentworth himself was a bit of loose screw. Well, ok, he was downright off his nut more often than not. After all, he did let his lady love do bad things with evil monkeys (I’ll forgo explaining that one. Like I said, shocking things sometimes occurred in Spider novels!) He carried around a Messianic complex and twin .45s to back it up. The only good criminal was one splattered across the pavement of Fifth Avenue.

For whatever the novels lacked in plot and attention to detail, they made up for in raw grinding emotion and breakneck action that could leave a reader breathless (not to mention feeling a bit dirty). They were horrific nightmares come to life, with a nightmarish figure only a few moral steps above Freddy Krueger dispensing certain and bloody justice. But they were great fun, pure escapism.

And criminals, month after month, were still stupid enough to mess with The Spider. Go figure.

Recently there’s been quite a Spider revival going on over at Moonstone books. Moonstone is responsible for many fine comic books and prose anthologies with such iconic characters as Zorro, The Green Hornet, The Phantom and numerous others. I was honored to work as coeditor (with EIC Joe Gentile, who must never sleep) and writer on one of my all-time favorite pulp heroes, The Avenger, and to be involved with The Spider, both in the adaptation of the Judgement Knight widescreen noir graphic novel (based on the novel The Devil’s Paymaster. Gary Carbon, artist extraordinaire furnished beautiful paintings for this book, which is still available from Moonstone Books at http://www.moonstonebooks.com/ and comic shops everywhere. He also paints the cover for the Hyde issue pictured here)) and an original Spider tale in The Spider Chronicles prose anthology (with John Jakes, a big Spider fan) called Death Reign of the Zombie Queen. I also have written a brand new tale for issue #3 of the Moonstone’s original Spider comic book series called The Strange Case of The Spider and Mr. Hyde, which should be out in a couple months. Can you guess which horror icon makes an appearance in this story?

Just this past week I have also signed on to adapt a fan favorite Spider tale called Satan’s Murder Machines into a three-issue widevision format as well. Giant marauding robots crushing innocent citizens and causing all out mayhem. Doesn’t get much better than that! It’s based on the 1939 novel.

It’s been a big year for Richard Wentworth and the lovely Nita van Sloan, and it only promises to get better in 2010 as The Spider’s adventures continue, 70 plus years after his birth in the pulp magazines.

The Chloe Files by Howard Hopkins: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time.
In trade paperback.

Western Wednesday: Guest Blogger, Gary Dobbs

This week I turn Western Wednesday over to guest blogger Gary Dobbs. Those of you who read my interview with him on this blog sometime back know he’s a consummate actor with parts in Doctor Who and Torchwood, and now a has started on the trail of a new career—writing westerns under the name Jack Martin. Gary’s first novel, The Tarnished Star, instantly became Black Horse Westerns’ fastest and biggest seller ever and with good reason. Not only did Gary make an all-out promotional splash, but he wrote a damn fine book. Be sure to check out his Tainted Archive blog. (http://tainted-archive.blogspot.com/)

Before I turn the blog over, one piece of western news. Where Legends Ride II (the title will be changed, but is not officially set yet) has announced its line up and it’s a dandy. Your truly is included, as well as Gary and last week’s guest blogger, Andrea Hughes, but also possibly the youngest western writer ever, Chantel Foster. Sixteen-year-old Chantel is the granddaughter of western writer Ray Foster, and carries on the family tradition. In the coming weeks, I am hoping to include guest blogs from a number or even most of its contributors. The anthology is edited by Nik Morton and Charlie Whipple. Here’s the book’s line-up:

DEAD MAN TALKING – Derek Rutherford

LONIGAN MUST DIE! – Ben Bridges (David Whitehead)

BILLY – Lance Howard (Howard Hopkins)

THE MAN WHO SHOT GARFIELD DELANY – I P Parnham

HALF A PIG – Matthew P Mayo

BLOODHOUND – Courtney Joyner

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE – Gillian F Taylor

BIG ENOUGH – Chuck Tyrell (Charles T Whipple)

ONE DAY IN LIBERTY – Jack Giles (Ray Foster)

SHADOWS ON THE HORIZON – Bobby Nash

ON THE RUN – Alfred Wallon

THE GIMP – Jack Martin (Gary Dobbs)

VISITORS – Ross Morton (Nik Morton)

THE NIGHTHAWK – Michael D. George

DARKE JUSTICE – Peter Avarillo (Chantel Foster)

ANGELO AND THE STRONGBOX – Cody Wells (Malcolm Davey)

THE PRIDE OF THE CROCKETTS – Evan Lewis (Dave Lewis)

CRIB GIRLS – Kit Churchill (Andrea Hughes)

MAN OF IRON – Chuck Tyrell (Charles T Whipple)

CASH LARAMIE AND THE MASKED DEVIL – Edward A Grainger (David Cranmer)

DEAD MAN WALKING – Ed Ferguson

Now, without further ado or adon’t, Gary Dobbs…

Apologies to anyone expecting to find Howard here – but I have seized control of Dark Bits for this Western Wednesday. Howard, at the moment, is gagged and tied to the railway line…I may release him before the train comes. But at the very last moment, mind - better for suspense that way.

Westerns are the theme today and so let’s saddle up and get on with it – I’ve got to get through this before that train comes – western fans will never forgive me if Mr. Hopkins gets squished across several miles of railway line. Dark Bits would have to be renamed red sludgy bits for one thing.

What I want to talk about is the western renaissance and believe me there is one happening and it’s gathering momentum. For a genre that so many have stood over, read the last rites and closed the coffin lid, it is remarkably buoyant. And what is the reason for this? – well I think its people power. Think of it – in recent years westerns have disappeared from the shops and all because a team of book buyers, professionals with degrees, have decided that the humble old western is an anomaly to the modern age, a mistake of popular culture and that readers don’t want to escape into tales of high romance and adventure. Then why is it that publishers are reporting a small but steady increase in western sales? People power, that’s why – the internet gives readers an unprecedented access into the world of books and from their keyboards they can influence the way things go. No longer do we have to choose between the selection in the shops but now, via the wild west web, we have the ability to get anything we want. It’s there for us to find.

We can now tell these book buyers what we want and it’s not the millionth clone of what sold the month before and so on and so on. We want good escapist fun, reading matter that both informs and entertains – there’s room for all kinds of genre fiction and we won’t be limited by the ideas of others. Ideas that say all books must be a uniform length and look like the inbred offspring of everything else on the shelves. Give yourself the choice - westerns, crime, SF, horror, romance, thriller, hardboiled – you wouldn’t eat the same meal day in and day out, so feed your imagination, widen that palate.

Try something new…a western, perhaps.

The western benefits from a strong tribe of followers who are proactive in their support for the genre. Blogs such as this and my own, The Tainted Archive, are doing much to push the battered old genre. And look into the sidebar of either of our blogs and you will find links to countless other western related websites and blogs. And lately new blogs and websites devoted to the western are springing up like passenger pigeons over the prairies.

Wild West Monday is another fan-driven enterprise – so far there have been three such events and this November sees the fourth. Take part and keep an eye here and on my blog, as well as others, for details of the initiative. And when you’ve read this pop over to The Tainted Archive and locate our petition in the sidebar and please sign it – give us some people power.

OK so that’s it my little plug for all things western. I really must dash now…I think I can hear that train coming.