Brian Keene's Blog, page 117

Upcoming Appearances

This summer, I’m popping up in New Hampshire, Georgia, Rhode Island, Virginia (twice), and Pennsylvania (twice):

June 1

Barnes and Noble

125 S Broadway Ste E

Salem, New Hampshire 03079

Brian will be one of dozens of authors signing as part of Christopher Golden’s 20th Anniversary event. PLEASE NOTE: This particular B&N does NOT stock or order Brian’s books, so you will need to bring your own to be signed.

June 27 to 29

Scares That Care Weekend

Double Tree by Hilton Hotel

50 Kingsmill Road

Williamsburg, Virginia, 23185

July 8

Glatfelter Memorial Library

101 Glenview Road

Spring Grove, PA 17362

Private Speaking Engagement: Closed to the public

July 18 to 21

NECON

Bristol, Rhode Island

July 27

The Edgar Allan Poe Museum

1914 E Main St

Richmond, VA 23223

2pm to 5pm: Talk, Signing, and Q&A with Brian Keene and Mary SanGiovanni

August 1 to 3

Monsterama

Holiday Inn Perimeter

4386 Chamblee Dunwoody Rd.

Atlanta, GA 30341

August 16

Comix Connection

6200 Carlisle Pike

Mechanicsburg, PA

Join Brian Keene, Mike Hawthorne and many more for the annual Creator Cookout and Canned Food Drive.

My WHC Report (with pictures)

Yesterday, I posted a transcript of my acceptance speech for the WHC Grand Master Award. Now, here’s a run-down of what else I did at this year’s WHC. (All photos copyright Brian Keene unless otherwise noted). 

As I get older, I’ve found the key to keeping one’s sanity and health when doing a string of convention appearances is to get into town a day early and stay a full day after the convention is over. So I got into Portland on Wednesday. Luckily, several old friends had done the same thing. We hung out in the hotel bar for a bit, and then me, John Urbancik, Michael T. Huyck, Lisa Manetti, John Palisano, and a few others walked to the H.P. Lovecraft bar, where we met up with Jeff Burk, Mykle Hansen, Anderson Prunty, and a few others from Portland’s author collective.

Inside the H.P. Lovecraft Bar.

As you might expect from the name, the Lovecraft Bar is built around the theme of H.P. Lovecraft’s mythos. There’s a giant Elder Sign on the ceiling, and a coffin on the dance floor. The DJ (on the night we were there) was playing industrial and techno (most of which I didn’t recognize, but at some point he must have noticed us old people in the crowd because he played some Ministry and Jesus and Mary Chain). I’m told the bar is the official hangout for the Deadite Press crew, and I can see why. I was a little disappointed there weren’t themed drinks, though (Shoggoth Shots, Tentacle Tequila, etc.)

Michael T. Huyck uses John Palisano as a taxi.

Proving that he’s an excellent editor, Jeff told us he was picking up the bar tab. But at the end of the evening, what we really needed was someone to pick up Mikey. Luckily, between the combined efforts of John Palisano’s strong back, Lisa Manetti’s ability to find a cab on a deserted city street, and a little fast talking from me when the cops began circling, we were able to get back to the hotel unmolested.

Wrath James White, Shane McKenzie, and me (Photo copyright Shane McKenzie)

I had a reading and a panel on Thursday, but most of the day was spent greeting old friends. WHC is often the only place I see these friends. WHC is not a fan convention. It’s a trade show for horror writers, artists, editors, and publishers. One of the things I enjoy the most about it is watching the next generation of authors come up. The one I’ve been most impressed with, especially throughout the weekend, was Shane McKenzie. He’s outgoing, prolific, and savvy. He’s not afraid to ask questions, but more importantly, he knows when to be quiet and just listen. Here’s how Shane broke into the business — he thought I was too intimidating to approach, so instead, he signed up for fighting lessons from Wrath James White. After two months of letting Wrath beat the shit out of him, he admitted he had no desire to be a fighter, and instead wanted to become a horror writer. And he will. I’ve no doubt he will. And I also have no doubt that he will become much more than just a horror writer. Currently, he’s known for bizarro and extreme horror, but once he expands his voice and goes beyond those expectations, he’s going to hit this genre like a bomb.

Me, Weston Ochse, and Norman Partridge at Horror Writer Prom. (Photo copyright PDX Photo Lounge)

Two other old friends I was delighted to see were Weston Ochse and Norman Partridge. Like Urbancik and Mikey and Wrath, Weston and I have come up through these ranks together, getting our start at the same time, and sharing the same triumphs and foibles and pitfalls. And guys like Norm have been there to guide us and holler at us when we needed it. I love them both, and made sure I had plenty of time to duck out of the crowds, find quiet corners of the hotel bar, and catch up with them throughout the weekend.

Me and Mike McCarty

Of course, given the number of attendees at WHC and the fact that everyone is doing business, sometimes you don’t get to see old friends as much as you’d like, unless you make time. An example is my old friend — writer and KNB FX superstar Mike McCarty. We were scheduled opposite each other for most of the weekend, so our only chance to catch up was dinner on Friday night, and some time spent talking afterward. Sadly, there were other friends — folks like Jemiah Jefferson, Del Howison, Jonathan Reitan, and Tim Waggoner, who I barely got to see at all, and for that, I am bummed.

Me, John, Mary SanGiovanni, and Kelli Owen (Photo copyright Kelli Owen)

Luckily, I was rooming with three of my best friends (one of whom is now the woman I love) — so I got to see Urbancik, Mary, and Kelli throughout most of the weekend. The four of us have done enough public appearances together over the years that we’ve developed a psychic shorthand. We know when each other needs to get away from the crowds for a little bit and take a break in the room, and we can deftly make that happen without anyone knowing better. And Kelli, who used to be one of my pre-readers until I kicked her out of the nest so she could focus on her own writing, got to be a pre-reader again when I read a draft of my speech to her early Friday morning. She helped me hone the final draft while still in her jammies.

Greg Rucka brought a knife to my gunfight

On Thursday night, Michael Arnzen, his wife Renate, and myself went off-site to meet up with Greg Rucka and Jen Van Meter. Knowing that Shane was a fan of Greg’s and knowing that one of the things he wants to do is break into comics, I invited him to tag along. His reaction was one of the highlights of the con for me. Along similar lines, another personal highlight of the con was sitting down with new author Bryan Killian. He was one of many who sent me a manuscript when I offered to review them. I had just finished his before the con, so we went over it, and I showed him what he did right and what he’d done wrong, and then we pitched it to Deadite. More on this later in the year. (There are four of you still waiting on manuscripts, along with Michael Bailey, who I touched base with at the con. They’re coming. Please be patient just a little longer).

Greg and I swapped comic gossip, and agreed that we were well off with a business decision we both made last year. Then it was time to get back to the con for a panel, so Shane and I hoofed it back in the rain. Shane shouted, “That was so fucking cool” the entire way back to the hotel.

Mary, me, Weston, and Yvonne on the relationship panel (Photo copyright Gardner Goldsmith)

I was on a number of panels throughout the weekend, with topics ranging from writing for comics to what’s next for zombies. My favorite panel, and one that attendees seemed to enjoy the most, was about creative couples and the unique challenges they face. Panelists were myself, Mary, Weston, Yvonne Navarro, Jeff Strand, Lynne Hansen, Cameron Pierce, and Kirstin Alene. It was a standing room only crowd, with additional attendees trying to listen from out in the hall. The panel started off great, with Mary and I, Lynne and Jeff, and Kirsten and Cameron all agreeing that it was wonderful being in a relationship with another author. Weston and Yvonne agreed that this was so, but due to Weston’s contrary nature, by the end of the hour, he’d convinced us all that we are doomed. Look at the expressions on our faces in the picture above, which was taken at the start of the panel. Now, here’s what we looked like later on.

“Oh God, is Weston right? Are we doomed?” (photo copyright Rose O’Keefe)

Everyone thought it would be me or Strand that knocked it off the rails, but no, it was Weston. That’s because Weston Ochse is evil incarnate, and has secretly been responsible for at least half the things our peers have blamed on me over the years.

In case you’re curious, Mary told the crowd this about being in a relationship with me: “He’s the perfect combination of Indiana Jones, Tony Stark, and Tony Soprano.” So there’s that.

Breakfast with Brian Kirk, John, Mary, Kelli, Mikey, and Russell Dickerson

On Friday morning, Urbancik, Mary, Kelli, Mikey, Russell Dickerson and I headed out to breakfast. While in the lobby, we met a new author named Brian Kirk and invited him to join us. (It occurs to me as I write this that I met two new authors this weekend whose initials are BK. Soon, I will have more competition on the K shelf of the horror section…

Yvonne, Weston, Mary, me, Carlton Mellick III, and Don D’Auria before the ceremony (Photo copyright Kelli Owen)

The Grand Master Award was presented Friday afternoon. The picture above is probably my favorite from the weekend. Kelli snapped it on the fly, about ten minutes before the presentation began, while we were waiting for the room to fill. And fill it did. Don D’Auria, formerly my editor at Dorchester and now the editor at Samhain, introduced me and talked for fifteen minutes or so about our relationship and my career. I was immensely pleased an honored by his words, and surprised by some of the things he remembered. At one point, he made me cry (Mary can attest to this).

Acceptance speech — award in one hand and a bourbon in the other. (Photo copyright Vince Kramer)

When Don was finished, Beth Gwinn presented me with the award on behalf of the WHS, and then I gave a speech which you can read here. Then I did a Q&A, during which many peers stood up and said nice things. I was pleased and honored and humbled, and although I still don’t think I deserve the award, I accept it gratefully.

Deadite’s dealer table. (Photo copyright Rose O’Keefe)

The mass autograph signing took place Friday evening. Deadite had me covered for books, having brought along all of my titles. I also signed books that people brought with them. This was one of my favorite parts of the weekend. I always enjoy meeting readers, and chatting, and finding out about them. Unfortunately, due to the length of the line, I wasn’t able to talk to each person as long as I would have liked. But thanks to each and every one of you who had me sign something. After nearly two decades with this gig, you’re still the reason I do this.

I was especially jazzed to meet Nathan from Witch Mountain – a metal band I discovered last year. He signed an album for me, and I signed a book for him, and we had planned on getting together Sunday for me to record a spoken word bit on their next album (more on that below).

Alan M. Clark, Stephen Jones, and me.

During the signing, Alan Clark, Urbancik, and myself were seated across from Michael Marshall Smith and Stephen Jones. When the line slowed down, this presented a wonderful opportunity for Stephen and I to engage in a past time that we both enjoy — fucking with each other. We did that every time we saw each other — so much, in fact, that I never got a chance to tell him how pleased I was that he was receiving the HWA Lifetime Achievement Award. He absolutely deserves it. In my opinion, Stephen Jones is to the horror genre what John W. Campbell was to science fiction. So, congrats, Mr. Jones — and I hope you don’t mind that I charged my bar tab to your room.

To Nickolaus Pacione, with scorn. (Photo copyright Christine Morgan)

So, what does a Grand Master do upon accepting his award? Well, on Saturday, Mary and I posed for a publicity photo for FOSSIL LAKE, a book whose contributors consist mostly of authors who have been stalked and harassed by Nickolaus Pacione over the years, including Ramsey Campbell. Although neither Mary or I are in the book, we’re happy to help them promote it, as is befitting of a Grand Master status.

Kerri Huyck, Mikey, me, Mary, and Ryan Harding.

Saturday evening, while everyone else went to the Bram Stoker Awards banquet, I slipped out for an intimate dinner with Mary, Mikey, his wife Kerri, and Ryan Harding. We found Douglas Winter doing the same thing, and he snapped this picture of us in front of a phallic sculpture of money.

Christopher Rice and me.

After returning to the hotel, we visited the Stoker after party for a while, where I got to catch up with more folks who I hadn’t seen throughout the weekend, like Christopher Rice and James Beach of Dark Discoveries. James and I talked some business, none of which I can tell you about, but all of which will be exciting. Then, I had to leave because it was time for the annual Gross-Out Contest.

Gross-Out Contest Judges Rose O’Keefe, Douglas Winter, Daniel Knauf, John Skipp, and me. (Photo copyright Vince Kramer)

A secret: I wasn’t looking forward to the Gross-Out Contest. After years of winning and more years of judging, I feel jaded. And the older I get, the further away from extreme my muse seems to be taking me. Well… I was wrong. A mostly new generation of writers and performers had me laughing and gagging, and I fucking loved it. I kicked myself for ever doubting. There were some wonderful entries (“PINEAPPLE!” Foodies. Q’s Rap. Father vs. Son. etc.), interspersed with commentary by the judges (who were Rose O’Keefe, Douglas Winter, Daniel Knauf, John Skipp, and myself). Jeff Burk did an excellent job as emcee, going so far as to let a half-naked clown staple a copy of his book to his back. (We’ve come a long way from when a much younger Brian Keene ate live worms on stage. Now motherfuckers are shedding real blood).

The Pudding Caper (Photo copyright Michael Bailey)

Shane McKenzie’s entry involved something with the consistency of tapioca pudding. He brought along generic tapioca pudding packs for each of the judges, as well as a jar of mayo and a package of sausages. We were supposed to eat the pudding while he read, but all of the judges refused. Sensing that my young protege was in trouble, I ended up eating my pudding on stage, as well as all of the other pudding cups. They were wretched. Warm, off-brand, and did not mix well with the 17 bourbons I had in my system by that point. But, I took a bullet for the kid.

And then I got my revenge.

Revenge is a dish best served with salmonella. (Photo copyright Gardner Goldsmith)

We judges agreed to give Shane a special ‘Judge’s Choice’ award. His prize was that he had to dip one of the sausages he’d brought along into the jar of mayo and eat it live on stage. Which he did. Later, Shane told me that the sausages had been in his hotel room, un-refrigerated, for most of the weekend. I informed him that botulism was a right of passage, and that Laymon, Monteleone, Lansdale, Wilson, Ketchum and other mentors had all given various diseases to me over the years. He seemed to take this well.

Rain Graves and I share a dance.

And thus came the last night of the con. There was much celebrating and partying and good times with good friends. Rain Graves and I did a tango in the lobby.

Me and Nick Mamatas. (Photo copyright Kelli Owen)

And then Nick Mamatas and I did a tango together, as well. If we ever write a sequel to THE DAMNED HIGHWAY, you can be absolutely certain this will be the author photo.

Mary at Edgefield Manor, Monday morning.

On Sunday, lack of sleep and copious amounts of bourbon and conversation had caught up with me. Mary, Urbancik, Mikey, Kerri, Weston, Yvonne, and myself made a trip to Powell’s Books, and basically sleepwalked through the store like zombies. I regretfully texted Nathan and bowed out of recording (something for which I’m still kicking myself in the ass for), and then texted Rucka and bowed out of burgers and beer in his backyard, as well. Luckily, both Nathan and Greg know what these events are like, and understood all too well how exhausting they can be.

After an intense altercation with an asinine hotel security guard who I felt was being disrespectful to Jack Ketchum (“Nobody puts Dallas in the corner,” I remember saying before it almost came to blows), Mary and I said goodbye to everyone and retreated to Edgefield Manor, one of my favorite places on Earth (and thanks again, Carlton and Rose). We had a nice, quiet dinner (which I followed up with a Cohiba), looked at art, went for a walk among lilacs, and then took a nap that lasted 17 hours.

Here is a complete list of the rest of my appearances for this year. Come say hi.

*

TRIBE: Grand Master Award Acceptance Speech

The following is a transcript of my Grand Master Award acceptance speech, delivered at WHC 2014 in Portland this past weekend. It does not include Beth Gwinn’s presentation comments, Don D’Auria’s introduction, or the Q&A that followed the speech.

Thank you, Don, for that wonderful introduction, and thank all of you for being here today. I stand before you expressing two things you probably didn’t expect from me — humbleness and humility.

It’s impossible to not be humble when you consider the previous winners of this award. Before writing this speech, I went back and perused the list, just to freshen my memory. Previous winners are (in order) Robert Bloch, Stephen King, Richard Matheson, Anne Rice, Clive Barker, Dean Koontz, Peter Straub, Brian Lumley, Ramsey Campbell, Harlan Ellison, Ray Bradbury, Charles Grant, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, Jack Williamson, F. Paul Wilson, Ray Garton, Joe Lansdale, Robert McCammon, Tanith Lee, James Herbert, Jack Ketchum, T.E.D. Klein, and Dan Simmons. And now me.

You know what that’s like? Imagine you go to the rock and roll hall of fame for an induction ceremony, and you’re looking at all of the previous winners — The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, George Clinton and the Parliament, Jimi Hendrix, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, NWA, Gun n Roses… and then you find out tonight’s honoree is Justin Bieber. I am the Justin Bieber of the horror genre.

It’s impossible to accept this award without humbleness and humility, and I feel those things very deeply today. But they aren’t the only things I feel. In the months leading up to this, it’s been a struggle for me to feel that I was worthy of this honor, and to feel like I belonged to the canon of authors who received it before me.

I remember the very first World Horror Convention I ever attended. This was back in 1999, when the Internet was still relatively new and most of us were still sending submissions via snail mail with the required Self Addressed Stamped Envelope. Before attending that convention, the only author I’d ever met in person was Joe Lansdale, who I met during a signing he and Tim Truman were doing at a local comic book store. And that meeting didn’t count because my conversation with him was limited to, “Holy shit. You’re Joe fucking Lansdale” and “Could you make that out to Brian”, and finally, “Holy shit. You’re Joe fucking Lansdale.”

So, prior to World Horror Convention, most of my interactions with my peers had been conducted solely online, using Windows 3.0 and a very primitive chat room that took approximately 20 minutes to refresh every time you typed a response. On the airport shuttle, I met Gak, an artist whose name I recognized because we’d been appearing in the same fanzines together, and whose art, years later, is now indelibly inked across much of my back. When we got to the hotel, Gak disappeared. My room wasn’t ready yet, and I found myself standing in the lobby, not sure what to do next. There was a guy dressed all in black sprawled across one of the sofas in the lobby. He looked like the love child of Rob Zombie and Blue Oyster Cult’s Buck Dharma. There’s no one else around. And then this guy, maybe sensing that I’m lost or unsure, calls me over and shows me something he’d just bought in the dealer’s room. To this day, I can’t tell you what the item was, because it quickly dawned on me that the guy was John Shirley. He’s trying to show it to me and have an intelligent conversation with me about it, and meanwhile, I’m standing there with my mouth clamped shut because I know if I open it, I’m going to shout things like “Dude, you wrote A Splendid Chaos! You’re John fucking Shirley!”

Most of the weekend was like that. I quickly discovered just how open and welcoming this community of ours is, and in moments — be it having dinner with Brian Hodge, Yvonne Navarro, and Paula Guran, or socializing at a party with folks like Neil Gaiman, Ramsey Campbell, and Poppy Z. Brite — I repeatedly resisted the urge to shout at them about who they were and what they’d written and then melt down into a quivering puddle of fan boy goo.

It is fair to say that particular WHC changed the course of my life. It was at that con that I also met most of the peers I’d been talking with online. We all quickly became friends — and in the almost two decades that have followed, they remain some of the best friends I have ever had in life. Indeed, one of them eventually went from being one of my best friends to the woman I love.

But it also changed the course of my life for another reason. Before attending that convention, I’d approached writing as a past time — a hobby. I’d write things occasionally and send them out to zines, and sometimes they’d get published and more often they got rejected. Coming home from that first WHC, I was driven to write. Compelled to write. It changed my entire outlook and approach to this vocation. I began writing every evening, no matter how tired I was at the end of the day. The publication versus rejection ratio changed. I became more involved with our community. I finally began to view myself as a writer, rather than as a blue collar guy who worked a succession of various jobs and wrote occasionally on weekends. I’d always dreamed of writing for a living. Attending that first WHC was what finally gave me the gumption to actually strive towards it.

Don mentioned this in his introduction, but at my second World Horror Convention, Richard Laymon introduced me to his editor, Don D’Auria, and told him about a little zombie novel I was working on. At my third World Horror Convention, Jack Ketchum sat down with me at the hotel bar and went over the contract for that zombie novel with a red pen and taught me everything I’d ever need to know about negotiating a publishing contract. I still have that red-penned original at home, and I still have the receipt for the bottle of scotch I bought him in return.

I’ve been coming to World Horror ever since. It’s done a lot for me, and I hope I’ve done a lot for it.

World Horror is not a fan convention. It’s a professional gathering — a trade show for those of us who are involved in dark fiction and publishing. But it’s also a family reunion. Like any family, we don’t always get along the rest of the year. But the drama seems to fall by the wayside when the family gathers here. As horror writers, we’re used to having to defend ourselves from attacks. Writers from other genres belittle us, the media often excoriates us, our friends and family and agents wonder aloud when we’re going to write something serious — we’re used to having our backs against the wall. It has been my experience that when that happens, our family — our tribe — invariably bands together and stands firm. We have each others backs. As a full time writer, I can’t count on retirement or a 401K or health insurance or even a steady paycheck. But I can always count on you, my tribe, and I’d like to think I’ve shown that you can always count on me. Trends change, publishers go under, and readers can be fickle, but at the end of the day, we still have each other, and we still have this wonderful genre for which we all share a deep and abiding love and appreciation.

Due to the bidding nature of the con, some WHCs are deservedly legendary while others are unmitigated disasters. I think we all know by now which this year’s con is. But here’s the thing, folks. It doesn’t matter who is putting it on that year. They’re competence or incompetence doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are among friends. You are among family. You are part of a tribe. Horror writers have always been welcoming of anyone, regardless of race, creed, gender, or sexual orientation. Indeed, although our friends in other genres don’t like to admit it, we’ve often been the first to do so. If I could get a show of hands, how many of you in the audience are attending WHC for the first time this weekend?

(Pause while hands are raised)

We’re glad you’re here. You will never find a more welcoming, friendly, and good-humored group than the people in this tribe. And even though I still don’t think I deserve it, the people of this tribe have decided that I should receive this award, and thus I do so with great humility and humbleness and honor.

In closing, I’d like to do one thing, and then I’ll be happy to answer questions. Alan Beatts used to throw an awesome party every year at WHC. During the party, he would get everyone’s attention and have them look around the room and find one person that they did not know. Then he’d invite everyone to go introduce themselves to that person. I’d like to ask you to do that now. As Robert DeNiro says in Brazil, “we’re all in this together.” Look around this ballroom. Find someone you don’t know, and go welcome them to the family.

(Audience stands, claps, and then introduce themselves to each other, as instructed. This was followed by a Q&A).

On Rape and Repugnance

While I was offline, Janelle Asselin, one of my former editors at DC Comics, wrote an article for CBR critiquing the T&A aspects of the cover to the forthcoming Teen Titans #1. Some readers liked the article. Some didn’t. And some of those who didn’t decided to anonymously threaten her with rape.

Think about that for a minute. Multiple individuals were so incensed over an article pointing out the sexual objectification of a teenage female superhero that they felt their only recourse was to threaten the writer of the article with rape. Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened in the comic book section of publishing, nor is it only in comic books that it happens. I know of it happening in both the horror fiction and science fiction sectors, as well.

Too often, this is brushed aside or excused or ignored. In our own section of the industry, Nickolaus Pacione regularly threatens to rape various females, but too many of our peers shrug and say, “Well, he’s mentally ill so it’s okay” and then continue to follow him on Twitter for the comedic value of watching a train wreck.

Or we often hear the excuse, “Well, it was probably just some dumb kid making a dumb joke.” That’s horseshit. My oldest son is 24, and while I love him and am immensely proud of him, there are times he is the living embodiment of “all-the-dumb-things-we-all-did-at-24″ (and I can’t holler at him for it because I did many of the same things at that age). But no matter how many times he acts without thinking, he’s not out threatening to rape people. It’s disingenuous to excuse such transgressions as simply youth saying something stupid.

Another excuse I often see thrown around is “well, even if they threaten it, they’ll never act on it”. Which is, again, horseshit. Here’s a shining example of this type of misanthropic idiocy. During my time offline, I was so incensed by what had happened to Janelle that I hopped online via my ex-wife’s computer and posted to Facebook about it, promising that this essay you’re now reading would be forthcoming once I’d finished my move. Loyal reader Thomas Clark shared the post on his wall. And then, something that calls itself Tim Bruzdzinski (I say ‘something’ because the individual in question is certainly not a man, and in my opinion, doesn’t qualify as human) offers pearls of wisdom in the comments like “idiot threats don’t matter. Nobody is getting raped, this happens eleventy billion times every day and nothing ever comes of it.” (Incidentally, Little Timmy is the front-man for a Syracuse-based bar band called Nails In The Pulpit, so yeah, fuck them).

I’ve always had more female friends than male friends. Looking back, I’d say three out of every five women I’ve known has been directly impacted in some way by rape. I also know men who have been impacted by it, and not just indirectly. Rape happens. It’s not a sexual crime. It’s a violent crime — a crime of force and will and blood and pain and control. It is absolutely one of the most repugnant, heinous things a human being can perpetrate on another human being, and it leaves scars that never wholly heal no matter how much therapy you undergo or how much vodka you drink. To threaten another human being with rape makes you just as repugnant as the act itself.

We have spoken up about this within the horror fiction section of the industry before, and now, as a result of what has happened to Janelle, we see comic professionals beginning to speak out against it, as well. But that is not enough. I encourage professionals from ALL sectors and ghettos of publishing to speak up. Let your audience know that this type of behavior is unacceptable, regardless of race, creed, or gender. Whether you read comics or horror novels or science-fiction tie-ins or true crime or westerns, whether you’re a socialist, libertarian, conservative, progressive, liberal, anarchist, or apolitical — you should agree that people should be treated equally and not threatened with fucking violence just because they wrote something you disagree with. If you can’t agree to that, then quite frankly, I don’t want you as a fan, or a reader, and I don’t want you in my genre (and since they’re giving me the Grand Master Award in Portland next week, it is my fucking genre).

And if you’re a fellow professional, don’t think “Well, my fans would never do this” or “I don’t have an audience as large as Brian Keene or Joe Hill or Jeff Lemire or John Scalzi or Greg Rucka or Chuck Wendig so it’s not worth it for me to speak up”. Because that’s horseshit, too. This is a problem that impacts us all, and it is your duty to speak up. If you make art, if you create entertainment, if you examine the world via words or pictures and offer folks a few hours of escapism and release, then you have a responsibility to get involved.

Which brings me to part two of this rant.

Amid the legitimate and justified outcry I’ve seen over this issue, I’ve also seen a secondary narrative decrying the usage of rape in comic books, television, horror novels, and other forms of the medium, and the suggestion that such works should be banned, and that there is something wrong with the people who create them or read them. This is also horseshit.

I’m a horror novelist. Just as it is a science-fiction writer’s job to invoke a sense of wonder (or perhaps dread) about the future, it is my job to invoke unease and fear. All writers, regardless of what genre they work in, act as a mirror of sorts. We examine life and humanity and we write about those things. You may remember your first kiss, but do you really remember the actual emotions that came with it? Can you still articulate how it felt the first time you encountered death or love? How it felt the first time you realized your parents weren’t infallible? What it was actually like to be six-years old, and the unique worldview that comes with that age? You may think you do, but you don’t. Not really. Memories dim over time, leaving us with impressions, but nothing more. A writer’s job is to make you feel those things again. We observe the world around us and we mine our observations into prose, and thus, make the reader feel them once again. As a horror writer, I’m meant to make you feel scared, uneasy, horrified, uncomfortable, etc. I’m supposed to examine what’s out there in the darkness. There’s nothing wrong with that. People have been examining the darkness since primitive man first drew comic books on cave walls. The Bible, the Koran, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Vedas — all of our earliest texts contained elements of horror.

Rape is a horrific act. But to call for banning it from film or literature (and when I say literature, I’m including comics) is chilling, as well. Instead, perhaps a call should go out to use it responsibly, rather than gratuitously, but even then, that’s a slippery slope. One person’s porn is another person’s art. One person reads an Edward Lee novel and is repulsed by the grotesqueness within. Another reads an Edward Lee novel and sees the clever social commentary nestled between the excess bodily fluids. Some people think Crossed is vile. Others think it is delightfully horrific. Personally, I’m repulsed by the so-called “rape porn”, in which adult film stars act out scenes of rape, but as long as nothing illegal is occurring, I’m not going to tell someone else they can’t watch it. There’s a difference between two actors and a film crew in a studio following a fantasy script versus a victim and group of thugs armed with a cell phone camera in a back alley somewhere. Comics, film, and books have featured murder, cannibalism, and other atrocities (and not just in the horror genre). Why should rape be an exception?

An example I see offered again and again is The Killing Joke, a Batman graphic novel written by Alan Moore. There is a scene in which the Joker shoots and seemingly rapes Batgirl. The shooting is shown. The rape is suggested. But there’s no doubt in the minds of most readers that it happened. Putting aside for the moment that Alan Moore is a horror writer (even his non-horror work such as Watchmen and V For Vendetta contain elements of the horror genre and influence from Lovecraft, Machen, Hodgson, and others) let’s examine what Moore, as a writer, intended to do with that scene. He wanted to show just how violent and dangerously unhinged the Joker was. Furthermore, he wanted to shock and terrify the reader. As someone who read The Killing Joke upon its initial release in 1988, I can tell you he succeeded. Before that, the Joker has always been sort of a neat villain. With The Killing Joke, and specifically that particular scene, he became absolutely terrifying. Moore used rape to a similar effect in the pages of Swamp Thing, when Abby Holland has sex with a man who she thinks is her husband, but in reality is her husband’s corpse, possessed and reanimated by her uncle, Anton Arcane. Disgusting? Sure. Horrifying? Absolutely. Gratuitous? No, not in my opinion. Moore’s goal in Swamp Thing was to scare the reader, and that scene was scary to the point that I remember it clearly, some three decades later.

I don’t think the problem is using rape (or murder or cannibalism). I think it’s how you use rape (or murder or cannibalism). And I think that awareness only comes with time, because you see others discussing it and then you look back and examine your own work.

I have two friends named Amanda and Eryn. If I ever had daughters, I’d want my daughters to be like Amanda and Eryn. They are very much involved in geek culture, and unapologetic in their fight for equal standing at the comic book shop. They make me so proud and fill me with hope for this next generation (and I’ve never told them that before now). A few years ago, I signed a copy of CASTAWAYS for Amanda at a convention. Admittedly, she doesn’t read much horror, preferring superheroes and sci-fi instead, but she read CASTAWAYS, and when she was finished, I asked her what she thought.

“It was okay,” she responded, “but have you written anything without giant rape monsters in it?”

I explained my stance that rape made sense in the context of the book — the tribe of cryptids are dying out because of inbreeding, and they need new mates, and I pointed out the afterword I’d included at the book’s conclusion, discussing rape and its usage and how it made me uncomfortable but it was necessary for the plot. But because I respect Amanda, and because her and Eryn teach me things without them even knowing it, I went back and examined the rest of my books. I’ve written a lot of them. I can happily say that not all of them include rape. But some do. In the case of GHOUL and DARK HOLLOW, I’d argue that it was as necessary as it was in CASTAWAYS. But THE RISING? Gratuitous. I didn’t think so at the time. The man who wrote THE RISING was a much younger man, and not as well-informed, and he thought he was showing how cruel humanity could be to one another after society collapses, but in going back and re-reading that old manuscript a decade later in advance of the publication of the anniversary edition? I cringed. I cringed and I thought, “Jesus fucking Christ, Brian. What the fuck were thinking?” I was tempted to edit the scene down, but ultimately I didn’t, because there are a bazillion other copies out there already. But I can tell you this — I don’t like that scene, and I wish I’d written it differently.

And if we’d been having this discussion back in 1998, I probably would have written it differently, because I would have been more aware.

And that, in a nutshell, is why it’s important for creators to speak up now. I’ve done my part.

Now it’s your turn.

Discuss. And not just here, in the comments below. You have your own Blogs and social media outlets. It is not okay to threaten people with rape, and that shit stops now, but it only stops if you do your part.

…

THE RISING III now on Kindle and Nook!

At long last, the third book in The Rising trilogy, THE RISING: SELECTED SCENES FROM THE END OF THE WORLD, is now available for Kindle and Nook (after being available in paperback for several months).

CLICK HERE FOR KINDLE

CLICK HERE FOR NOOK

CLICK HERE FOR PAPERBACK

 

Brian Keene’s seminal novel THE RISING and its sequel, CITY OF THE DEAD, revitalized the horror genre and gave zombie fans a new reason to celebrate. Since their original publication a decade ago, readers have hoped for a return to that universe. THE RISING: SELECTED SCENES FROM THE END OF THE WORLD is a collection of short stories set in the world of THE RISING, examining the history of the Siqqusim, the arrival of the first zombie, the fall of mankind, and the terrifying events that occur after CITY OF THE DEAD’s conclusion. Featuring both new characters and beloved fan-favorites, this globe-spanning saga elevates the horror to new heights. If you are a fan of Keene’s zombie mythos, you cannot miss this book!

 

James Newman Hospitalized

Horror author James Newman was hospitalized this past weekend after being struck by a falling tree limb. His wife Glenda reports: “we were biking in Pisgah Forest and stopped at Sycamore Flats picnic area to have lunch. While we were sitting at a picnic table we heard wood cracking and looked up to find a massive limb falling. I knew Jamie and Jake were out of the way because they were on the other side of the table but the limb must have hit something and turned and hit James which knocked him to the ground. He immediately started screaming with arm and back pain. He was taken to the hospital where they found he has 4 fractured vertebrae (not neurologically threatening, no paralysis or anything like that because the fractures are on the side) and his left arm has 4 fractures that need surgical repair” A later update states: “he does not require back surgery for the fractured vertebrae. They’re fitting him for a back brace today and will follow up with Neuro. His elbow/arm will require 3 plates and about 12 screws. They have to break the ulna to fix the elbow. They hope to have surgery scheduled for tomorrow but it could even be Wednesday. Still trying to control pain, then control nausea and itching from the pain medicine. It’s a vicious cycle. His pain is about a 6 lying still but jumps to a 10 if he has to move.” While a benefit anthology is in the works, the best way for readers to immediately show their support is to buy one of his books.

My WHC Schedule

Here’s my schedule for those of you attending World Horror in Portland, including details on the Grand Master Award. Come say “Hi.”

THURSDAY

6:00 PM -7:00 PM

Opening Ceremonies: Toastmaster Alan M. Clark presents the World Horror Convention 2014 Guests of Honor: Nancy Holder, Jack Ketchum, Norman Partridge, Greg Staples, Paula Guran, John Shirley, Victoria Price, Brian Keene, Stephen Jones, John LaFleur

8:00 PM – 8:30 PM

Reading: Brian Keene & Mary Sangiovanni

10:00 PM – 11:00 PM

Panel: Horror From The Page To The Silver Screen (Jack Ketchum, Brian Keene, F. Paul Wilson, Lynne Hansen, Daniel Knauf, Aaron Sterns, Cullen Bunn). Authors who have done all sorts of time in and out of Hollyweird talk about getting a book optioned, into screenplay format, and how it did or did not get to the theater.

FRIDAY

12:00 PM – 1:00 PM

Panel: Being F*cked -Up And In Love (Weston Ochse, Yvonne Navarro,Brian Keene, Mary SanGiovanni, Jeff Strand, Lynne Hansen, Cameron Pierce, Kirsten Alene). Horror writers discuss the horrors and joys of pair-bonding with our own kind.

1:00 PM – 2:00 PM

Panel: Four Color Calamaties: Horror In Comic Books (Greg Staples, Cullen Bunn, Brian Keene, Daniel Knauf, Kari Yadro, Nick Mamatas). Creators from indie to mainstream in the graphic novel industry methods of getting your work out there and the challenges within the medium.

4:00 PM – 5:00 PM

Panel: Grand Master Award. Come meet Brian Keene, as the World Horror Society honors him with the Grand Master Award.

6:00 PM – 9:00 PM

Mass Autograph Signing – All of your favorite writers are in one spot and are willing to sign books!

SATURDAY

10:00 AM – 11:00 AM

Panel: Life After ‘The Walking Dead’: Zombie Fiction Today (Joe McKinney, Steve Rasnic Tem, John Skipp, Dana Fredsti, Scott Edelman, Brian Keene, S.G. Browne). Zombie stories are a tough sell after WORLD WAR Z and WALKING DEAD. But for some reason, when done well, the form just doesn’t stay dead. Find out what makes great zombie fiction come to life.

2:00 PM – 3:00 PM

Panel: You’ll Never Get Out Alive! Advice To New Writers (Brian Keene, Jack Ketchum, Weston Ochse, Lois Gresh, F. Paul Wilson) Professional authors with decades of combined field experience tell the audience everything they wish they could tell their younger selves when they were starting out as writers.

10:00 PM – 11:30 PM

Gross Out Contest – Do you have what it takes to be crowned the grossest storyteller of the World Horror Convention? Ten authors will take the stage but only one will win the bragging rights and amazing prizes! WARNING: THIS EVENT CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT

Click here for the complete schedule

Contest of Champions

Deadite Press is proud to host the most infamous event in all of horror literature – the Gross Out Contest at the World Horror Convention in Portland, OR! This year’s event will be hosted by Deadite Press head editor, Jeff Burk, and he’ll also be providing valuable and awe-inspiring prizes!

Passing judgment over the night will be:

BRIAN KEENE – author of THE RISING and over fifty other books. He is also the recipient of this year’s World Horror Convention Grand Master Award.

DANIEL KNAUF – creator of HBO’s CARNIVALE and writer for DRACULA and SPARTACUS: BLOOD AND SAND.

JOHN SKIPP – author of numerous novels and short stories as well as being one of the founding authors of the Splatterpunk movement.

ROSE O’KEEFE – head publisher of ERASERHEAD PRESS, which is are the forefront of the bizarro, extreme horror, and alt lit genres.

The contest is simple – your goal is to tell the most extreme, gag-inducing, vile-filled, piece of literary excrement your twisted mind can summon. You have three minutes to read the story and then you will be stopped and the audience will decide if you will continue. If you pass that test, you have two more minutes to finish your story – you WILL be cut-off at five minutes!

You will be graded on the following criteria – GROSSNESS, HUMOR, AUDIENCE REACTION, PRESENTATION, and ORIGINALITY.

Props and costumes are highly encouraged!

The event will be taking place Saturday evening, May 10th.

If you think you have what it takes, send an email to DeaditePress at Gmail dot Com with the subject line: GROSS OUT SIGN UP.

Spots are extremely limited!

Note: You must be a registered attendee of the World Horror Convention to compete.

Life in a Disaster Area: Day 107

Still mostly offline and off the grid. No access to my own computer or work stuff. Typing this via phone, from a mountaintop cabin that has been temporarily evacuated, because a winter of destructive weather and a spring of more destructive weather have left it in ruins, and ruins are no place to raise a six-year old boy. Writing is at a standstill because there are things more important and because it is hard to write when your computer is in storage. I am taking advantage of this time to work on manuscript reviews, but nothing else. Still checking in on Twitter a few times a day, and here’s something about rape I was moved to write a few days ago (which will be turned into a much longer Blog entry when I return). In the meantime, enjoy this picture of me and Carlton Mellick III, taken last November.

4AM – On Sale Now – UPDATE: Sold Out

This brand-new chapbook from Brian Keene examines the darkest hour before the dawn with four terrifying tales. In “Something Pretty” a man grants his true love’s request, while simultaneously finding a way to cope with a world grown increasingly insane. Then, in “Keepsakes”, a young boy learns what is most valuable and coveted in a post-apocalyptic landscape. Third is “Fetish”, in which the victim of a broken relationship finds himself haunted by a very different kind of ghost. And finally, “In the Closet”, a prelude to Keene’s forthcoming Labyrinth series, finds the multiverse’s last surviving version of Tony Genova struggling to stay alive — only to learn that his death is just the beginning of the biggest adventure of all.

Featuring story notes by the author detailing the genesis of these previously unpublished or ultra-rare tales, and illustrations by Alex McVey, 4AM is a must have.

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE – $12 – Limited to 150 copies

4AM — it’s always darkest just before dawn…

(NOTE: Brian Keene Lifetime Subscribers WILL receive this chapbook with their next shipment).

UPDATE: 4AM is now sold out. If you missed your chance, check with booksellers such as Camelot Books, Bad Moon Books, etc (each of them got a few copies).