Book Report for October 2018 to October 2019

I've done a reading report each of the last several years here on my blog. Time for another one. I've mentioned it here before but my way of keeping records is kind of unusual so I'll quickly explain again. I keep my yearly reading records from October 14th of one year through October 13 of the next. October 14th is my birthday, so that's why I do it that way. 

This was a good year for me. I read 129 books, up from 106 last year. I'm pretty sure I owe the increase to taking it a little easier at my job in the aftermath of last year's heart attack. It also seems I found a bunch of books I really liked this year and so I tore through them at a fast pace.

For the first time in quite a few years, Westerns led the parade. I read 29 of those. This is certainly due to me writing a lot of western related material this past year, including the novel The Scarred One, the short stories for Scott Harris's four 500 word anthologies, and some stories for another western collection that I plan to put together in the next year or so.

Second on my most-read list was Mystery/Thriller, with the main emphasis on the thriller side. I read 23 of these, due mostly to Harlan Coben, whose books I've been devouring at a high rate of speed. An interesting development (at least to me), is that for the first time I separated Men's Adventure from other types of Thrillers. This is because of the Men's Adventure group on Facebook, where I've been having a lot of fun talking about this kind of book. I didn't start separating these out until late in the year, however, so I only have 5 official Men's Adventure books on my list. That'll probably go up next year.

Non-fiction was next on my list, with 14. These generally fall into three categories: science books, books on writing, and books on heavy metal music. I separate these on Goodreads but not in my word processing list, which I like to keep to one page.

SF and Fantasy took slight dips this year, ending up at 9 and 10 respectively. I also read 7 classics (meaning books by folks like Hemingway etc), and 7 poetry books, both slight increases over last year. I got sent several poetry books this year from folks who know I do reviews and that's probably why that number went up a little bit.

I could go on but I may have overstayed my welcome on this post already. I do love talking about books. Here's to a great 2019-2020 reading year for everyone!

The Color of the Day is Yellow

The trees and ditches are spattered with yellow along my walk this morning. In the woods it’s mostly leaves changing into their autumn attire. There’s still a lot of green but here and there a yellow flag flutters, pale or lemony or tending toward brown. And poking through the litter of leaves and twigs on the ground are a few yellow sprigs of fern. I suspect the ferns and some of the leaves on the plants in our backyard are yellow because it’s been dry.

Yesterday we had some rain, though, and the ditches are yellow with blooming flowers. There are at least four different species, the bouquets of duller yellow that I call ragweed, tiny little yellow starbursts about the size of a pencil eraser, bigger five petalled yellow flowers, and the biggest of all, standing on stems two to four feet high, yellow-orange blooms half the size of your palm with multiple petals that make them look like sawblades.  

Even the sunlight is yellow this morning. I guess it’s that kind of day. I think I’ll have a couple of eggs with yellow yokes, toast with yellow butter, and maybe some lemonade. 

Interview with Yours Truly

Lee Forman, a fine writer himself and an editor over at Sirens Call, conducted an interview with me a while back and it appears today on his blog. I hope you'll check it out. 

A SINGLE BREATH

A whale surfaces. Exhales. Foul air spumes thirty feet high. The droplets fall, winking with sunlight beneath the blue sky. The whale draws a fresh breath. It flows crisp and cool into his lungs before he slides back beneath the waves. He doesn’t dive, just lets himself slowly sink, using his flippers and fluke only for balance.

This whale is old, tired. He hasn’t eaten in a while. He wants to rest. No other whales are around. He’d been swimming with a small pod but had fallen behind. That doesn’t seem to matter.

The water is a clear and diffuse yellow here just beneath the surface. It glows warm from the sun and the whale wants to hang onto that warmth. But the effort required to do so is tremendous. He sinks a little further, his flippers stroking fitfully at the water.

Yellow light turns green, then turquoise. The water cools a little. It’s like a vast liquid gem, flawed with bubbles and whorls of current. There are no fish, no krill. He is at the center of the turbulence. Then the turbulence dies away. The green water darkens toward emerald. He sinks.   

How much farther does he need to travel to reach the krill fields? Will there be anything left when he arrives? Will any of the other whales still be there? His flippers stir, then still.

He sinks a little more. The water is purple now, like twilight at the surface. But unlike at the surface, there is no wind, no roughness of waves. The ocean has a silken stillness to it. A memory comes. His first mate. Her flank brushed his, sometimes as silken as this ocean, sometimes so barnacled-rough that it scratched his flesh.

The memory passes. The ocean darkens. He drowses.

The world is black when he awakens. He drifts through a formless void. A faint pressure in his lungs lets him know that he will need to rise soon. He will have to breathe, and the surface is a long swim away now.

Then light distracts him, glittering, dancing light. He recalls youthful nights, broaching beneath a festival sky strewn with stars. A song stirs deep within but does not pass his throat. These lights are not stars; they are luminescent plankton stirred by his decent through their level. And he is not young. There is no song left.

 The moment is here. He must swim now or never swim again. The surface is far away; his lungs begin to strain. Working his fluke and flippers, he begins to rise. Then he stops. The plankton have drifted away from him. He is in blackness again. Alone. The water is cold, cold.

All tension bleeds from his body. He sinks. Deeper and deeper. At some point he exhales. And the bubbles rise. In a while they will burst on the surface, and there will never be more.     

Animal Stories: Reading and Writing Them

I read everything I could get my hands on as a kid, but my top three favorite genres were Science Fiction/Fantasy, Westerns, and Animal stories. My very first “favorite” book, which I read over and over and over, was Pagoo, by Holling Clancy Holling. There are no people in this tale; it’s the story of a Hermit Crab in search of a new shell.

Most of the time, there were no, or very few, people in Jim Kjelgaard’s stories. Desert Dog was a well loved book for me. It tells the tale of a Greyhound abandoned in the desert who has to learn to survive. And then there was Kalak on the Ice, a story of a mother polar bear and her cubs.

There were people in Walter Farley’s Black Stallion books, but the focus for me was always on the horse. And Farley also did the Island Stallion books, in the first of which we get to know the Island Stallion living on his own, with no people around.

Of course, there was Call of the Wild and White Fang by Jack London, which I also loved. But I didn’t stop reading animal stories when I “grew” up. I read The Incredible Journey and Watership Down and many others. Just recently I read Lad a Dog, and loved it.

 

When my son, Josh, was little, I told him many animal stories, particularly about two groups of mice called the Watermelon Mice and the Pumpkin Mice. As a writer who wants to tell the kinds of stories that I love to read, it was inevitable that I would write an animal tale or two. And finally I have.

Some fifteen years ago I started and stopped a novella called “Farhaven,” about three orphaned fox kits trying to find their way to an animal sanctuary. In 2018, I finished that story, and also wrote a tale of “The Pumpkin Mice” called “Dreamtellers.” After submitting these two tales to several agents and publishers without finding even one who wanted to take a look, I’ve decided to publish them myself, along with a couple of other children’s stories I’ve done over the years which did sell. Part of the reason for me pushing to get them out rather than spend more time trying to sell them traditionally is that I’m about to become a grandfather. And that’s a pretty important step in a man’s life. It should be commemorated in some fashion or another.

And so, I’m introducing here a book called “Farhaven &Other Stories.” This is what it looks like and it’s available in print from Amazon already. I will be putting out an ebook of it in the next few weeks, although it’s only in print at the moment. I hope you’ll take a look. And thanks for reading!

Speculations: A Weird Poet's Review

Speculations: Poetry from the Weird Poets Society, 2018: Mind’s Eye Publications, 123 pages, Edited by Frank Coffman, Illustrated by David M. Hoenig.

The Weird Poets Society was founded in 2016 by Frank Coffman on facebook as a group for published poets in the “Weird, Horrific, Supernatural, Science Fictional, Fantastic or otherwise clearly Speculative” genres of poetry. There are nearly 200 members, including myself. I believe it was in 2018 that Frank suggested publishing a collection of work from the members, and this first work, printed in the spring of 2019, is what I’m reviewing here. Twenty-eight poets are included, most with two individual poems. Some of these poems were previously published but many are brand new to this collection. Each contributor has a little “about the poet” paragraph included as well, and it was interesting to see the wide range of experiences exhibited by the members.

The poets included are Manuel Paul Arenas, F. J. Bergman, JP Bloch, Bruce Boston, Anton Cancre, Frank Coffman, Scott J. Couturier, Harris Coverly, Don Gillette, Patricia Gomes, Charles Gramlich, David M. Hoenig, Geoffrey A. Landis, Randall D. Larson, Lisa Lepovetsky, John C. Mannone, Kurt Newton, Kimberly Nugent, Cindy O’Quinn, Michael Picco, Ken Poyner, Peter Rawlik, Brian Rosenberger, Randy D. Rubin, Jessica Amanda Salmonson, David Schembri, John W. Sexton, and Don Webb. Although I’ve heard of—and read pieces by—quite a few of these folks, the only people whose writings I’ve consumed regularly were Boston, Landis, and Salmonson. I’ve also been in an anthology with Lisa Lepovetsky and spent many years in REHupa with Frank Coffman. Some other contributors here are highly accomplished even if I haven’t crossed paths with them before. Patricia Gomes is the poet laureate of New Bedford, Massachusetts. F. J. Bergman has won numerous awards, including two Rhyslings.

It’s always a little awkward for a poet or writer to review a collection that he/she is a part of. The readers will have to decide for themselves whether that devalues my comments. My pieces here are both recent poems from me called “When Night Calls to Hearts Pledged to the Sun,” and “They Rise to a Kiss.” Each has religious element and “When Night Calls” was partially inspired by a dream.

Leaving my pieces aside, my favorite pieces were by Bruce Boston, “A Stray Grimoire,” and “Pavane for a Cyber-Princess,” the latter of which I had read previously and which definitely fits the character of an ‘epic’ poem to me. I’ve made no secret of my admiration for Boston’s work over the years and have reviewed most of his poetry collections already. Boston’s list of accomplishments is a long one and his reputation in speculative poetry is well deserved. It’s quite a pleasure for me to final share a TOC with him.

I will say I felt quite comfortable and pleasantly happy with being included in this collection. There’s a range of styles, from free verse, to haiku, to formally structured traditional forms. We have the complexity of Coffman’s “Residual Murder” mixed with the deceptive simplicity of Kimberly Nugent’s “A White House.” There are playful, almost limerick-like pieces such as Salmonson’s “Bag,” and the formal power of Landis’s “The Price of Magic: Illusion’s Lure.” Nothing here felt forced or as if it didn’t belong. The language was fresh throughout and highly visual. There are no “clunkers.”

I’ll mention two other poets here whose pieces, back to back in the collection, particularly captured me while reading. These were John C. Mannone, with “Cycles,” with phrases such as “sackclothed moon” and “like Icarus with melted wings,” and the excellent “At the Mountain of Dreams” by Kurt Newton, which had such a nice melodic flow to it that I’ve already reread it several times now.

Top the poetry off with some dynamite illustrations by David M. Hoenig, and you have a really fine package that I am most pleased to be a part of. If you'd like to purchase a copy, the link is here: 

Spirit Vessels: By Dennis Formento

Spirit Vessels: By Dennis Formento: Foothills Publishing, 2018, 78 pages. ISBN: 978-0-921053-27-9.

Spirit Vessels is the first chapbook that I’ve read from Dennis Formento, who lives in Slidell, Louisiana and is active in the local poetry community here. I’ve not met him personally but was interested in reading some of his work since I’ve heard good things about it from other local poets.

Spirit Vessels is Formento’s most recent collection and is a substantial work. The poems are free form and often leap from image to image. Some words that occurred to me frequently as I read through the pieces here were “jazz” and “improvisation.” A few pieces struck me as having surrealistic elements, but many more are what I would call “nature” poems. Local Louisiana elements are common but expand far beyond the usual swamps and gators. And there are plenty of references to natural environments outside of Louisiana. Most of this “nature” material is not pretty nature but reflects the damage done by pollution, coastal erosion, and climate change. These are not, for the most part, happy poems, but they present a realistic, if dramatic, view of the changing world environment.

I don’t want to suggest that such nature poems make up the entirety of the collection. There is plenty of variety here. But it was these pieces, such as “Water,” “Poem: ‘Useless’” and “Bayou Paddle,” that were the most memorable and effective to me. If you'd like to purchase a copy of the book, the publisher's site is here: 

There are at least two more collections by Formento that I know of, Looking For An Out Place, and Cineplex. I’ve got copies of both of these and since I certainly enjoyed Spirit Vessels very much I’ll be looking forward to reading and reviewing these as well.

The Best of the West, Edited by Joe R. Lansdale

The Best of the West, edited by Joe R. Lansdale, subtitled “An anthology of western writing from the western writers of America.” Doubleday & Company, 1986, 178 pages.

This is a collection of stories selected by Joe Lansdale, and including in introduction by Lansdale. Before I talk about the individual stories, I’ll give my overall viewpoint. I’d generally say I enjoyed most of the tales but the title is very misleading. A better title might have been, “Tales of a New West,” or something along those lines. Most of these tales are nowhere near  traditional westerns. Lansdale is clear in the introduction that that was what he was looking for but the title certainly would have led me to expect a different sort of collection.

Here are my thoughts on the stories:

At Yuma Crossing by Brian Garfield:  Actually set in the traditional western timeframe but a bit unusual in characterization. Overall, fairly traditional. In it, a man called the “Gringo” comes out of the desert to cross a river by ferry, but finds the ferry stranded on the far bank. He also finds an old man and woman, and a young girl who appears to be Indian. The old man is dying. The Gringo is depicted largely as an anti-hero, but he does seem to be susceptible to sympathy for the young girl. Anthologists often put their strongest tales up front and at the end. I don’t know if Lansdale intended that here but Garfield’s story was my favorite in the book.

Take a Left at Bertram by Chad Oliver: I’ve enjoyed work by Chad Oliver before. His story here is far from traditional, however, and I didn’t get a lot out of it. It’s well written and short but lacks conflict. Two men go fishing in Texas in the modern day. They are way out in the wilds and a temporal rift occurs that brings some stone age hunters together with the fishermen. Nothing happens, though, and the phenomenon disappears as fast as it came.

The Second Kit Carson by Gary Paulsen: a flash fiction piece set in the modern world. The narrator is a drunk and it’s unclear how much of what happens was real and how much he imagined. Nothing traditional in this piece. Well written, but it didn’t do much for me.

Night of the Cougar by Ardath Mayhar: This one is pretty traditional as to setting, but the hero is a woman, a mother who has to protect her child from a cougar while on the road in the dark. Lots of conflict here, lots of suspense, and some very fine writing. One of the top stories in the anthology.

Jasper Lemon’s Ba Cab Ya Larry by Lee Schultz: A poem. Only two pages. Interesting and enjoyable.

Stoned on Yellow by LoLo Westrich: Completely modern setting, with a touch of mystical seasoning. Well written, but more of a horror or magical realism tale than a western.

Making Money in Western Banking by Jeff Banks: Pretty traditional. We have a group of outlaws who are robbing banks. One has decided to quit but is persuaded to go on one last job. As you can guess, things don’t work out. A fun story, with a bit of humor.

Cutliffe Starkvogel and the Bears Who Liked TV by John Keefauver: Again, set in the modern world. I couldn’t find any connection at all to my concept of a western. If anything, it was again a kind of magical realism. A postman is the main character and is delivering hair growth liquid to a man he knows. As the stuff apparently starts working, the man goes into hiding and the postman tries to spy out what is happening. That’s where the “bears” come in, and I can’t say much more or I’d reveal the twist. This tale was perfectly well written and was probably intended to be humorous but it didn’t really work for me. Probably my least favorite in the anthology,

A Bad Cow Market by Elmer Kelton: A modern tale but with western tropes. The bottom has fallen out of the cow market and a rancher is about to give up on his dream. He is reminded, though, of how much the place means to him and finally hits on a possible way to save his ranch. This is a character study mixed with a certain amount of yearning for the simpler life. I thought it was very well written and enjoyed it.

Peaches by Lenore Carroll: A cute tale. Fairly traditional in setting. A buffalo hunter comes to town with a hankering for peaches only to find out that the local madam has bought all the canned peaches up for herself and her girls. The hunter has to do some quick thinking to try and get his share of the peaches. I enjoyed it. A fun tale.

Judas and Jesus by Thomas Sullivan:  Another fairly traditional tale. We have the trope of the world weary gunfighter who happens to have his guns named Judas and Jesus. He rides into another town only to be confronted by a little kid who wants to chance him but doesn’t have a gun. Some very fine descriptive writing here and an emotional ending that I liked a lot.

Sallie C. by Neal Barrett, Jr.: I’ve much enjoyed many of Neal Barrett’s books. This particularly story is not a favorite for me, however. It’s mostly a kind of reveal story, with a certain amount of “almost” magical realism in it. There’s not a lot of conflict but some. Well written but I personally didn’t find a lot of payoff in the ending.

The Nighthawk Rides by William F. Nolan: This was one of the more interesting tales in the book, but very traditional in the sense that it’s basically a “Zorro” story told with a different character in a different setting. It’s also written as a teleplay rather than in traditional prose. Nolan mentions in the introduction to the story that it came about when he was asked to create a teleplay for a Zorro type TV series. It was never produced, though, and you’ll get a laugh out of why. Anyway, I liked this story quite a bit. One of my favorites in the collection.

The Bandit by Loren D. Estleman: An old outlaw gets out of prison and tells his story to a newspaper man while he’s waiting for a train. The setting is largely modern although the story within the story takes place in the past with a robbery gone wrong. Think “The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid.” Well written, as you’d expect. There was a real lack of tension since the events being told about happened long ago in the story. However, the ending twist is the reason why the tale was told in that fashion. Enjoyable but not one of the strongest tales in the collection in my opinion.

A Lucid Dream

I had a somewhat unusual lucid dream last night. For those of you who don't know, a lucid dream is one in which you realize you're dreaming. In some lucid dreams you can completely control the dream, and in such cases I immediately start to fly. However, last night's dream was more one where I  came slowly to understand I was dreaming, and was trying to convince Lana of it, but I couldn't make radical changes in the dream flow.

It started when we had just gotten up in the morning and a small portable radio on our counter started playing on its own. I turned it off, then remarked to Lana that it was weird. I began looking around with a frown, and then told Lana that everything felt weird. She indicated that everything seemed normal to her. I told her that I thought we were in a dream, and she laughed. She watched me then as I did my "dream test," which is to see if I can jump up and touch the ceiling. I told her that if it were a dream I would be able to "hang" in the air for a moment. I tried it, and did not quite touch the ceiling, but there was a definite feeling of floating so I became absolutely convinced that it was a dream. Lana still argued against it.

Lana was getting dressed and then I realized that we were supposed to go to court this morning. I don't know why but I was going to be the defendant. We arrived at the courthouse (magically apparently) still arguing over whether this was a dream. As I went in the courthouse I was looking around for some mischief to get into. Lana directed us to a couple of plush seats and we sat down and then I smiled at her triumphantly and said:

OK, if this isn't a dream, can you explain to me why Batman is our judge?

Adam West was our judge, and his Batsuit was folded up on a chair beside him. I told Lana to watch this and got up from my chair with the intent of stealing the batsuit. West saw me, though, as I approached, and I turned to try and hide my intentions and he said in his classic Batman voice:

"Have spin moves become pat of the defendant's repertoire these days?"

At which point I laughed and woke up.

Capsule Reviews: Reasoner, Prosch, Whalen

Capsule Reviews:

1: Faraday: The Iron Horse, by James Reasoner.

James Reasoner creates some iconic characters and sets up a western series with a dynamite opening book. I understand there was a series of these books published in the past in which the sequels were written by other authors, but I haven't read any of those. I did much enjoy this one though.

Matthew Faraday runs a detective agency, a competitor to the Pinkertons. He brings young Daniel Britten onto his team and sends him to investigate an apparent attempt to sabotage the western expansion of the railroad. Someone is informing the Sioux of the movements and vulnerabilities of the "Iron Horse" and Britten soon begins to accumulate suspects.

We have a pretty good mystery built up here, and then a wild free-for-all ending in which the mystery is revealed and the action rolls. A really strong ending. Two particularly well developed secondary characters were Sam Callaghan, a rough frontiersmen drawn along the lines of Wild Bill Hickock, and Mordecai Vint, a peddler with a love of strong drink who also has a beautiful daughter--Laura. I have a feeling that Callaghan plays a role in the later books in the series. I liked him quite a lot.

All in all, an excellent and entertaining read.

2. Stage Fright, by Richard Prosch.

Stage Fright is the fourth book in the Dan Spalding series. Spalding is a music buff and record store owner in Ozark City who frequently gets involved in solving local crimes and helping local citizens. He's a bit of a Knight Errant, as in John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee, and the Spalding books evoke a similar feeling in me.

I've enjoyed all the previous entries in this series and this was no exception. A quick, taut thriller with lots of action and suspense.

3. Tragon of Ramura, by John M. Whalen.

This is the first book I’ve read by John M. Whalen, but it won’t be the last. It’s a standalone novel. The writing is very good, with a lot of action and well-drawn characters and settings. I’d classify it as Sword & Sorcery. Tragon is our main hero. He’s strong and courageous, but no Conan. He struggles with fears and doubts; he isn’t always top dog in a fight. One of the things I liked about the story is that it’s not just Tragon’s tale. It’s really an ensemble cast and several times we see other characters pull Tragon’s butt out of the fire. I particularly enjoyed Yusef and Darius.

The story begins when Tragon and his crew, who have been labeled pirates but hold that title in name only, arrive at a coastal town of “Afkira,” a fictionalized Africa. They are hired by a man named Hestus Variano to help him rescue his daughter from a city of sorcery called Caiphar. Mayhem ensues, of course, and Tragon finds that he has a strange connection to the daughter of Caiphar’s king. I won’t give more of the plot away so you’ll need to read it to find out what that connection is.

Whalen is certainly familiar with the tropes of Sword and Sorcery and adventure fiction. There are  elements in the tale which will likely remind many readers of Burroughs’ stories of Opar. There’s also a few twists on the general Sword and Sorcery concept. All in all, I enjoyed it quite a lot.

Missing Time!

So, the Causeway bridge is marked every 1/10 of a mile with a sign and is 24 miles across. For me coming across in the morning, the distance counts down from 24 to 0. At around 16 miles the bridge rises dramatically and there is a drawbridge that allows big boats to pass through from one side of the lake to the other. Normally, the drawbridge is down of course, as it was this morning.

The drawbridge itself is a metal grid that can be raised. It’s very different from the concrete that makes up the rest of the bridge and is very noticeable in both appearance and in the sound and sensation you get crossing it. Somehow, this morning, I missed it. In fact, I experienced about a 7 minute time-gap. I remember noticing that I was at 19.4 miles on the bridge countdown. Then suddenly I was at 12.3 miles. I’d passed 7 miles and roughly 7 minutes in the blink of the eye.

One possible answer to the missing time is that I was abducted by aliens. They obviously released me very quickly and I can understand why given all the spicy food I ate yesterday. They must also have released me before any actual probing because I don’t seem to have any residual effects from such an experience.

Another possible answer, far more prosaic, is that I was so focused on my thoughts that I simply blanked out the outside world. I was going over my lecture notes for classes this morning so I would have something of an excuse for such deep cogitation. The thing that is a bit scary about this, though, is that I seem to have been essentially “unconscious” for 7 minutes while operating a very large and potentially dangerous piece of vehicular equipment. What’s more scary to me, is that there were probably other folks on the road with me who were doing the same thing.

I’d say be careful out there but from my experience this morning it looks like being mindless didn’t hurt anything. There were no wrecked cars or blue lights in my wake when I “woke” up at 12.3 miles. Perhaps the mind is not such a terrible thing to waste after all.

Black Gate Interview, with Seth Lindberg

As far as publications and other literary endeavors go, January 2019 has been the most successful month that I’ve had in a long time. Quite a lot of things have appeared. I figured it was worth a blog post. Helps me keep everything straight myself, so here they are—in no particular order.

1. Interview. I did an article a couple of years ago for Weird Fiction Review #7 on the “beautiful and repellent” in the work of such Weird Tales authors as Robert E. Howard, C. L. Moore, and Clark Ashton Smith. Seth Lindberg, a fine writer himself, did an interview with me about that subject and it went up early today over on Black Gate. We get into some interesting topics so you might enjoy checking it out.

2. Deep Fried Horror appeared from Deadman’s Tome. My story here is called “Sing In Me, Muse.” Where does inspiration come from? You may not want to know.

3. I had five poems go up at Altered Reality Magazine. This includes an SF Story-poem I wrote called “Far Beyond Home,” which I’ve always had a fondness for but which has never gotten much love from magazines. Until now!

4. My alter ego, Tyler Boone, has also been busy. He’s got a short story up at Rope and Wire called “Hard-Luck Hannah.”

 5. Mr. Boone also appears in Bourbon & a Good Cigar with a story called “The Law In Liberty.”

There's a couple more things coming up soon from me, so I may update this post if they happen in January. As always, thanks for visiting!

Klaw: Fieldhouse

Klaw, by W. L. Fieldhouse: Tower Books, 1980, 208 pages. 

I've known about this series for a while but had not read any. This is the first book in the series and seems pretty much an origin story. It's no secret, if you see the covers, that it features a gunfighter who has lost his hand and has a "claw" attachment for that arm. What might not be clear is that other things can be attached to the prosthesis as well, which allows him to shoot a gun and do other things. 

After starting this book, I had to check to make sure that W. L. Fieldhouse was not a pseudonym for Terry Harknett, who wrote the infamous "Edge" series under the name George G. Gilman. He's not, but it seems clear to me that the Klaw series was modeled after the Edge series. There's the same gory brutality to the shooting scenes, the frequent use of the phrase "feller," and even the same kind of wisecracking chapter endings that identify the Edge series. 

There are some differences, however. Klaw, originally identified as John Klawson, is a more sensitive fellow than Edge, at least throughout this first book. There's also some actual sex. Edge often has the opportunity to engage in sex but generally does not. In this book, Klaw actually develops a strong attraction to a woman and there is a fairly lengthy sex scene. Klaw is also driven by a higher moral code than Edge, who is primarily driven simply by the urge to survive. Klaw seeks justice. 

According to sources I could find, there are three books in the Klaw series. #2 is called "Town of Blood" and #3 is "The Rattler Gang." Fieldhouse has also written a number of other books, some under his own name, as well as for the Executioner and other men's adventure series. I couldn't find much more information on Fieldhouse, although he appears to still be living. I don't know how early this book was in his career.

As for the book itself, I was actually not enamored of the opening section. There seemed to be a lot of exposition and summarizing, and the constraints of setting up the "origin" piece for the character. However, the story quickly took off and became an enjoyable, action oriented romp. The character is more engaging than Edge and much easier to root for. Overall, I thought it was quite a lot of fun. And I know that all three Klaw books are available from Rough Edges Press: The books are also available on Amazon 

End of 2018 Blog

2018 was a helluva year. It was the year my blog nearly died. I made only 20 posts this year. I used to posts 100s, but, partly out of laziness and partly out of how the platforms change, I did almost all my social media activities on facebook this year. It’s easy to waste time on facebook, but there are also numerous groups of likeminded readers and writers that can provide both entertainment and information. Plus, promotional activities there are generally seen by many more folks than on a blog.

2018 was also the year that I almost died. I had a heart attack in August, caused by a primary artery that was 100 percent blocked. Apparently, this blockage is commonly called “the widowmaker” because most people who have heart attacks from this source die. I’d like to think surviving it means I’m tough, but it probably just means I’m lucky. I went through several months of cardiac rehab and my recovery efforts are certainly not completed, but I’m feeling pretty good and in better shape than I was before the attack. I will continue my rehabbing in 2019. I don’t want to have that feeling again.

I played more Skyrim (Video Game) in 2018 than in most previous years, but I also read a lot, particularly at the end of the year after my heart attack. Those who follow this blog know I count my “reading year” through my birthday. Between October 14, 2017 and October 14, 2018, I read 106 books. According to Goodreads, I read 131 books in 2018, which is my highest total ever on Goodreads. Quite a few of those were by Harlan Coben, who moved up to #39 on my all time book total list after just 2 years of reading his stuff. However, there’s always a little bit of everything on my list.

As for writing, despite certain interruptions it was a fairly productive year for me. I wrote about 40,000 words of new fiction (includes poetry) intended for publication, and most of it has already been published with a few other pieces schedule for 2019. The biggest news was the publication of “The Scarred One,” my first western novel (under the Tyler Boone name). I was very happy to have this happen and my thanks to the fine folks at Sundown Press—Cheryl Pierson and Livia J. Washburn.

Half a dozen short stories also came out under the Tyler Boone name in 2018, and I had stories published in some really fine anthologies, including Unsheathed, Twilight Echoes, and Doorbells at Dusk. And I had stories appear in such fine magazines as Sirens Call, Night to Dawn, Pen of the Damned, and Beneath the Rainbow.

Although I didn’t do much writing in the first couple of months after my heart attack, I’ve been back at it for the past couple of weeks and am happy with the stuff coming out on the screen. Best of all, my mind is churning with ideas again. That’s probably the most enjoyable part. And so, I leave you with a hearty farewell to 2018 and a welcome to 2019. I hope the new year treats us all well!

Tyler Boone Rides Again

I’m very excited to announce that my first full-length western, and the first novel under my penname, Tyler Boone, is ready for release from Sundown Press. It’s called The Scarred One.  Many thanks to Cheryl Pierson and Livia J. Washburn for their consideration and support, and for outstanding work in the editing, cover, and formatting arenas.

There will be both a print and a kindle edition of The Scarred One. The kindle edition is available now for preorder, although it won’t be delivered until November 13. It’s at a good price too, only $2.99.  If you have any interest in the book, a preorder would be nice for both me and the publisher. I will eventually be having a few signings for the book in my local area. That is Southern Louisiana, and maybe I’ll try to get up Arkansas way next summer. These will be announced ahead of time, of course.

I grew up reading westerns and remain a huge fan of the genre today. It’s an honor for me to follow in the footsteps of such greats as Louis L’Amour, Max Brand, Zane Grey, Lewis B. Patten, Gordon D. Shirreffs, Will Henry, Luke Short, and even Robert E. Howard. Below is the blurb for The Scarred One. I hope it intrigues and tempts you. I’d love for you to read this story.

Scarred by a mysterious fire that killed his parents when he was seven, Trenton Banning grew up in a San Francisco orphanage. Ten years later he fled to the freedom of the Rocky Mountains. Now, he’s come to the town of Sun Falls, Wyoming, where a silver strike has triggered a boom. He isn’t after riches, though. He’s there for Jonathan Hunsinger, a ruthless businessman who may know something about the fire that orphaned Banning. 

Hunsinger has a beautiful daughter, Elizabeth. That complicates things for Banning. And after an attempt is made on his life, he realizes that someone is willing to kill to protect Jonathan Hunsinger’s secrets. There are plenty of suspects; Elizabeth is one. Besides trying to stay alive and solve a decade-old mystery, the young mountain man now has to wonder—is Elizabeth the woman of his dreams, or the architect of his nightmares?

Interview

Scott Harris was kind enough to interview me about both reading and writing westerns. I had a few things to say. Check it out here: 

My Year In Books

Since my way of figuring out my reading year is a bit different, I always explain in these blog posts. I count my reading year through my birthday. It starts October 14 and ends October 13 of the following year.

This year, I had a very good year, totaling 106 books read. This is up from a low of 67 last year.  A main reason for the change is that I eased up on some of my academic workload this year, and then I had an extended period after my heart attack where reading was about all I could do.  Six of these were also graphic novels, which was up from 0 last year and which do not take long to read.

I also classify my books by genre. One major change this year was my westerns going from 6 to 14. That's partially because I was writing my own western through much of the year and tend to like to read in the genre I'm writing in. The biggest change, though, was in mystery/thriller, which went from 14 to 19. The primary reason here was my discovery of Harlan Coben.  I binged on his books to the tune of 12.

Fantasy at 12 and SF at 11 continued to be staples for me. Poetry stayed about the same, at 5 versus 4 for last year. My nonfiction reading (not counting articles and essays but books only) has remained at 7 for the past three year.

Bizarre as it may seem, I also keep an average book-read stat. Figuring that I started reading actual books around the age of seven, I've averaged 80 a year for the past 53 years. I've only been keeping detailed records since 1987 but in that time my best reading year was 95-96 with 126 books read. The worst year was 2001-2002 with only 49. I had eleven straight years when I read at least a 100. I remember being disappointed when I dropped below that number one year to end the streak but it was because of family health issues.

A Hard Loss for Us All

On September 29, a young woman of my acquaintance killed herself. I had not met her in real life but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know her. We had been friends on facebook for several years and had corresponded frequently. I had learned about her life, her pups, her house, her job, her fears and hopes.

Amanda was kind-hearted, intelligent, principled. She worked with animals and loved them. She had much to offer the world, but the world didn’t seem to want it. Not the whole world, certainly. She had friends and people who cared about her. But I believe she felt that there wasn’t a place for her in the world. It is not for me to address the reasons why she might have felt this way. I know others with the same reasons who also suffer.

On the day of the act, she posted a short message on facebook to say goodbye. Despite the fact that people responded within fifteen minutes and the police were called, it was too late. I did not find that out until late evening, and now my heart hurts. I wish the world had been better for her.

All I can say is, be kind to each other. One thing I try to ask myself when I make judgements about people from some brief interaction with them, or from just knowing their opinion about some particular issue, is: “What if you’re wrong?” “What if that’s not who they really are inside?” I don’t always succeed in doing this and certainly wish I was much better at it. But I do know, Kindness Matters!

Doorbells at Dusk Review

Doorbells at Dusk, edited by Evans Light, Corpus Press, 2018, 280 pages.

Released just in time for Halloween, Doorbells at Dusk presents fourteen varied tales of seasonal horror. These range from the gory to the atmospheric. I have a piece in this anthology but will mainly focus on other stories.

My piece is called “A Plague of Monsters.” I wanted to keep the reader guessing as to the source of the “monsters” until pretty far along in the story. I hope it worked. I definitely had a lot of fun writing the story. It’s a kind of ode to the many SF/horror tales and movies that I’ve enjoyed in my life.

Next up we have “The Rye-Mother” (great title) by Curtis M. Lawson. An eerie tale, very atmospheric. What lies at the heart of the corn maze on Halloween? Young David decides to find out.

Amber Fallon is next with “The Day of the Dead.” There’s a cool twist here with the role that costumes play in the tale. I certainly didn’t predict the kicker at the end.

“Rusty Husk,” by Evans Light is next. Another great title. This one ups the gore content of the collection. Rusty enjoys Halloween a little too much but he’s soon to learn the true meaning of the holiday.

“Adam’s Bed,” by Josh Malerman follows. Ronnie is a dad, and he loves his kid, although he loves his party lifestyle at least as much. What he doesn’t love is the presence under his son’s bed.

Jason Parent is next with “Keeping up Appearances.” They chose the richest looking houses to rob. And everything went smoothly. Until they picked the wrong house.

Chad Lutzke gives us “Vigil.” Different folks are probably going to have different favorites in a collection like Doorbells at Dusk. “Vigil” was one of mine from the collection. This tale is absolutely realistic, and maybe that’s why it creeped me out so much. I could easily put myself into the narrator’s shoes.

Gregor Xane gives us “Mr. Impossible.” A fun block party takes a turn for the worse. The last half of the story is visceral and relentless.

Ian Welke gives us “Between,” one of the atmospheric tales in the collection. The main character, Yolanda, has a fascination with mathematical forms, and with hallucinogenics. Definitely a character driven story.

“The Friendly Man” by Thomas Vaughn is up next, and I’m going to give this one a slight edge as my favorite piece in the collection. Gory for sure, but with a real underlying creep factor. The ending kept me thinking about the story long after it was over.

Sean Eads and Joshua Viola are up next with “Many Carvings,” (another great title.) Another atmospheric tale. Full of creepiness. If you raise an army of children to do your bidding, what happens when they take the reins in their own hands?

“Trick ‘em All,” by Adam Light is next. Travis is relegated by his parents to manning the candy dish for Halloween. He has other plans, and it begins with carving a secret pumpkin, a pumpkin with a secret of its own. Really strong ending to this one.

“Offerings,” by Joanna Koch is up next. This one is just fantastically creepy. All of us adults know how strange little children can be. We were like that when we were children. But the kids in this story have a little more strangeness than most.

The final story in the anthology is “Masks,” by Lisa Lepovetsky. No one can leave the party until the last guest arrives. That’s when the fun begins! I thought this was a good strong choice to end the anthology with.

Each of the stories in Doorbells at Dusk offered an interesting take on the horrors of Halloween. I read one story a day and was thus able to really milk each one for all it had to offer. I recommend that process to you as well, and I don’t believe you’ll be disappointed in Doorbells at Dusk.  

Twilight Echoes #1

So, let me drop this casually on you. I’m in a magazine with Robert E. Howard. You might respond with, “Robert E. Howard died quite a long time ago.” Yes. Yes, he did. But his stories live on. And one of his living stories has just been reprinted in Twilight Echoes #1, from Carnelian Press, edited by Steve Dilks. And it so happens that my own story, “A Whisper in Ashes” is also to be found in the same magazine. It makes me a little giddy.

There are stories by two other writers in the mag as well, and plenty of great illustrations, so let me give my brief review here. First up we have my own story, “A Whisper in Ashes.” This is the first tale I completed about a character I call Krieg. Krieg is not a pastiche of any previous sword & sorcery character out there, but his development was certainly influenced by Karl Edward Wagner’s stories of “Kane,” and Howard’s tales of “Kull.” One difference is that nothing is revealed here, or in the first few stories, about Krieg’s origins. We don’t know where he came from and no one will until some of the later stories in the series. So far, only three tales are complete. The second one, “Where all the Souls are Hollow” was recently published in the anthology Unsheathed. The third one, “The Rotted Land,” is ready to be sent out. And two more are in partial stages of completion.

The second story in the magazine is “Bride of the Swamp God” by Davide Mana. I’ve not been familiar with Mana’s work but intend to change that. We’ve got strong characters in Aculeo, a Roman legionary, and Amunet, the daughter of a sorcerer who seeks her own power. Twists and turns and betrayals abound in this tale of sorcerous bargains gone wrong. Throw in an elder god and you have all the ingredients of a great sword and sorcery tale.

The third story is “The Eyes of the Scorpion” by Steve Lines. I was also not familiar with Steve Lines’ work but this is an excellent tale written in an interesting style. For those of you know of Conan, you know of the quote: “Know, O prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of…” To me, Lines’ style captures this kind of feel. Great atmospheric piece. I also loved the vocabulary here, which is something I always enjoyed about Robert E. Howard’s work as well.

Finally, we have Robert E. Howard, with a Conan tale called “The Vale of Lost Women.” “Vale” is not one of the better known Conan stories; in fact, it wasn’t published during Howard’s lifetime. These may be the reasons our editor selected it. The plot is very simple. A female captive needs rescuing, but Howard doesn’t give us that rescue in the way we think it’s going to happen. The tale certainly showcases the “vigor” of Howard’s prose. That’s always the word that comes to mind when I read Howard. There’s a “physicality” to his writing that is hard to explain unless you’ve experienced it.

These stories, along with dynamite illustrations by the likes of Jim Pitts, Tony Gleeson, Yannis Rubus Rubulias, Kurt Brugel, and Regis Moulun, as well as a substantive editorial by Steve Dilks, make Twilight Echoes #1 a sweet little package. If you’re interested in picking up a copy, here’s the link you need: https://www.facebook.com/Carnelian-Press-522470481199180/