Brian Keene's Blog, page 163

No, I Will Not Be At Horrorfind

Because a lot of people have been asking lately, here is where I’ll be for the rest of the year if you want to get your books signed. Horrorfind Weekend is not one of those places. I wasn’t going to comment publicly, but I’m quite literally getting asked every day, so here’s my official statement:

“As I still have not been compensated for services rendered last year, it is with great sadness that I must end my more than a decade-long association with the Horrorfind Weekend Convention. I will not be attending this year, or in future years, nor will I be involved with the author programming. Horrorfind has some of the best fan attendees in the country, and I am deeply indebted to them for supporting the author programming tracks over the years. I wish all involved nothing but continued success.”

So… that’s all I’m going to say. I would have rather said nothing at all, but as I mentioned above, this has been a huge email generator. The situation could have easily been rectified at any point over the last ten months, and I regret it came to this.

A Report From The Casting Couch

Director Jeff Heimbuch, Actor Matthew Blazi, Special Effects Designer Mike Lombardo, and Key Grip J.F. Gonzalez

This weekend, I worked a little bit on The Lost Level and the script for The Last Zombie: Before the After #2. But mostly, I worked in my role as executive producer of Fast Zombies Suck – the first film from Drunken Tentacle Productions. An executive producer basically does two things — finance and bankroll the majority of the project, and make sure all the trains are running on time.

Our budget for Fast Zombies Suck is $1,000. So, as executive producer, it is my job to make that money stretch (and since it’s my $1,000, I have a vested interest in doing my job). That $1,000 pays for everything from the actors fees to the special effects to the catering to the medic on standby to the blanks and blood cannon we’ll be firing. So I’ve got to wheel and deal and make every cent count.

Assistant Director Mike Antonio tests his new camera

An Executive Producer also pays for things not in the budget, like breakfast this morning for Director Jeff Heimbuch (The Ties That Bind), our lead actor Matthew Blazi (Land of the Dead), Special Effects Designer Mike Lombardo (Suburban Holocaust), and J.F. Gonzalez, who didn’t have a title, so we made him Key Grip. None of us are sure what a Key Grip does, but we are certain that J.F. will be very good at it. (Not present at breakfast but also part of the team were Assistant Director Mike Antonio, Post-Production Supervisor Dave Thomas, and Director of Photography Dylan S-C)

After breakfast, we had a casting call for the part of Jessica (who is not in the story, but is in the movie). The casting call was held at Epic Dermis Tattoo Shop in East Petersburg, PA. Actresses — some from as far away as Virginia and Baltimore and others as local as York and Lancaster — showed up to try out for the part, reading their lines with Matt while Jeff and Mike A. filmed them. After the first read, Jeff would give them different directions so that he could see some examples of their range and abilities. Most actresses read two or three times. Then they were done, and at the end of the day, while eating hot dogs and chili at Casa Lombardo, we began deliberating who should get the role.

Mike L. and Jeff test out the casting couch

Which is the part of being Executive Director that I suck at. Because I liked every single actress and every single reading. Each young woman we met today was incredibly talented and charming and enthusiastic, but we can only pick one. And that sucks. That sucks in ways I can’t even articulate. I felt so bad about it that I tried to talk the rest of the team into letting me re-write the script so I could create extra parts for all of them. But sadly, we can’t do that. And I hate it. So far, that’s been the only frustrating part of this gig. (Well, that, and getting permission to fire blank ammunition and shut down city streets. And the fifty-bazillion people who want to be zombie extras when we only need twenty).

Me and Jeff (photo by Matt Blazi)

But pick one we will. And after that, we’re less than two months away from filming. Next month, we test out the blood cannon. If that goes well, then the actual filming will take place August 11th and 12th, provided I keep the trains all running on time like a good Executive Producer should.

So, that’s what an Executive Producer does. I could get used to this. It beats the hell out of writing books and comics. Well, expect for the casting part. I still think they should let me create extra roles…

Thanks to all of the wonderful actresses who came out today, and extra special thanks to Epic Dermis Tattoo for letting us take over their shop. And extra, extra special thanks to Mrs. Lombardo, who fed us well.

John Urbancik’s DARKWALKER

Readers who enjoyed John Urbancik’s Once Upon A Time In Midnight (which was part of the last Maelstrom set) should know that John’s new novel, DarkWalker, is FREE on Kindle — but only for a limited time.

John is one of my oldest friends in this business. He’s worked hard these last 15 years, and it’s great to see his audience growing. If you haven’t tried him yet, you have no excuse. Download for free HERE.

THE LOST LEVEL – A Free Sneak Peek

I’m currently writing a novel called The Lost Level. I’m almost finished, in fact, which is good because it’s way past its deadline. Originally, it was supposed to be a novella. Then the publisher (Apex) asked me to make it a novel instead, so I had to start over from scratch. Last year’s heart attack and a few other things have also contributed to the delay. But it’s almost done and I expect to turn it in to Apex soon. To thank you for your patience, I offer the following unedited excerpt as a spoiler-free taster.

***

The roasted squatosh was delicious, with a taste and texture much like a sweet potato. It was also surprisingly filling. I’d anticipated still being hungry upon finishing mine, but instead found myself pleasantly full, as if I’d just eaten a bowl of oatmeal. Bloop was indifferent about his. I couldn’t figure out if that was because he preferred meat, or if he was just not a morning person. The thought made me crave a hot cup of coffee to wake up with, but when I asked Kasheena if her people had such a beverage, she looked at me strangely and explained the only hot drinks they served were for medicinal purposes, and tasted bitter.

“Here’s hoping a Starbucks gets sucked through the space-time continuum and ends up here,” I said.

“Starbucks?”

“Never mind. Just something from back home.”

We put out the fire and packed up camp and then started on our way. Once again, Kasheena guided us in the direction of her village, and I marveled over her apparently uncanny sense of direction. When we came across a small, swift-moving stream, we stopped. After Bloop had verified that the water was safe to drink, I filled up my travel mug. Then we continued on our trek through the forest, sticking to game trails when they were available, and beating our way through the underbrush when they weren’t. Time passed uneventfully. We didn’t encounter anymore dinosaurs or robots or snake-men. Indeed, we didn’t encounter much of anything at all. The trees were alive with bird songs and the chatter of small animals, but for the most part, the wildlife itself remained out of sight.

After several hours, the vegetation around us began to change. I noticed many new species of trees and bushes, the likes of which I had never seen before. I wondered what world they were from, or if they were perhaps native to the Lost Level. We clambered up a steep hillside that was covered with tall, brown grass and short, stunted bushes that jutted sideways from the rocky soil. At the top of the hill we found the remains of a stone wall. It had collapsed in places, and moss and weeds jutted from between the cracks. I wondered aloud who had built it, but Kasheena did not know.

“I heard something,” I said as we hiked. “While you were sleeping. Bloop heard it, too. It sounded like machines, far beneath the ground. Do you know what they were?”

“My people have heard them, as well,” Kasheena replied. “As has anyone who lives in this land. I do not know what makes the sound. Shameal, the wise man of our tribe, always said that the sounds were made by the Creator.”

“The Creator… you mean some type of supreme deity?”

“The Creator made this land.”

“But when we first met, you said your tribe believes everyone in this land came from elsewhere.”

“Yes, that is true. The Creator made the Lost Level, but not the things that live in it. Those came from elsewhere, like you, or were born here, like me.”

“And you worship this Creator god?”

Kasheena laughed. The sound was light and musical.

“Worship the Creator? No. No one has ever seen the Creator. How can you pay tribute to something you cannot see? The Creator simply is.”

“Okay.” I was intrigued. “Tell me more about this Creator.”

“There is not much more to tell, Aaron. We do not think about the Creator. The Creator simply is. When you hear the rumblings beneath the Earth, that is the work of the Creator. Shameal says it is better not to ask questions about the Creator, and to simply let it be.”

I had more questions, but Kasheena had no answers. She patiently rebuffed my requests until I gave up in frustration. Instead, I let her point out edible plants and roots to me while I slapped at insects. I noticed Bloop swishing his tail back and forth to chase the bugs away, much like a horse or cow would do back home.

We descended the hill and entered a broad ravine with a dry creek bed in its center. The treetops grew close together over-top the gulch, casting a perpetual shadow. The ravine walls were covered with sprawling growths of ivy and vines, and after Kasheena had guided us a few hundred yards, I noticed something jutting from the undergrowth. It was a rusted section of airplane fuselage with the numbers 45714 and FT3 painted on it. I rushed over to the hulk and cleared the vegetation away with my sword, revealing the battered hulk of a World War Two-era TBM Avenger torpedo bomber. As a child, I’d often built model airplanes with my grandfather, so I knew the aircraft well.

I glanced around the ravine and noticed more derelicts, each of which was nearly hidden beneath the ivy. I began hacking at the vines with my sword. Kasheena and Bloop watched me as if I’d lost my mind, and then began to help. Soon, we stood there panting and covered in sweat, staring at the remains of five TBM Avengers. Four of them were TBM-1C models and the fifth was a TBM3. The paint on their fuselage was faded, muddy, and eaten through with rust, but the numbers were still legible—FT36, FT81, FT117, and FT28. The numbers were familiar to me, but I couldn’t figure out why. After a few moments, I realized what they were, and my skin broke out in gooseflesh, despite the heat.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed. “It’s Flight 19!”

“I have seen a thing like these before,” Kasheena said, “but it was a long time ago, when I was a little girl. It flew over my village like a strange metal bird, before crashing in the jungle.”

“Was there anyone inside of it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It burst into a ball of flame. When the men from our tribe went to investigate, they said there was nothing left. I remember that it burnt down a swath of the forest, and many were worried that we might have to flee. But our people dug ditches to halt the fire’s advance.”

Approaching the closest plane, I ran my hand across a.30 caliber machine gun which was mounted in the nose. The barrel was rusty and insects had made nests inside of it.

“What is this Flight 19?” Kasheena asked. “Were they vehicles?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking back to my years of research into the paranormal. “Very famous vehicles. These are called airplanes. They’re machines that flew through the air, just like the one you saw when you were little. These numbers painted on the side correspond to Flight 19, which was a group of airplanes that disappeared on December 5, 1945 during a training flight off the coast of Florida—that’s a state in America, the place where I’m from. Each plane had a three-man crew—a pilot, a gunner, and a radioman. The pilot flew the plane, the radioman was in charge of communicating with people on the ground, and the gunner was the fighter. He would shoot at enemy planes.”

“So where are the men who flew in these airplanes?”

“I wish I knew. So do many people back where I come from. Flight 19 was a famous disappearance, connected to something we called the Bermuda Triangle—an area of the ocean where many people have vanished over the years.”

“Maybe those people came here,” Kasheena said.

I nodded. “The crew of Flight 19 did, at least. The flight leader was Lieutenant Charles Taylor. Some people believed it was his fault the planes disappeared. He showed up late the morning of the training mission, and he made some confusing and strange decisions while they were in the air. There was a theory that he might have become disoriented, and then he ordered his men to ditch the planes into the ocean after they ran out of fuel. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

We searched each of the aircraft, but exposure to the elements had left nothing salvageable amongst the wreckage. Something had nested in one of the cockpits. It was filled with sticks and matted leaves. In all of the planes, the seats were torn and covered with mold and grime, and most of the metal had rusted. There were no skeletons or other signs of human remains, nor were there any scraps of uniforms or survival packs. That meant one of three things. Either Lieutenant Taylor and his men had abandoned the planes and ventured out into the forest, or the site had been looted and time had erased all existence of their remains. Judging by the position of the planes, they hadn’t crashed, but I couldn’t imagine how they’d managed to land them in the ravine without incident. Maybe whatever event it was that had transported them here deposited them in the ravine upon arrival. But if they had survived, where were they now? Were they even alive? Judging by their condition, the Avengers had been here for a long time. How old would Taylor and his men be now? I didn’t know how to tell time in the Lost Level, but I knew how to mark its passage—the stubble on my face or the length of my fingernails indicated that time still passed normally here, just like it did back home. If Flight 19 had indeed landed here in 1945, then they would be old men by now.

Or maybe they’d found a way back to our world. Or their world. There was no guarantee that this Flight 19 was even from my reality. It could just as easily originated from an alternate universe.

“We should move on,” Kasheena suggested. “There is nothing here for us, and I do not like this place. It feels… sad.”

Nodding in agreement, I climbed down from the plane and we continued on our way. I glanced back only once, and when I did, Flight 19 had already vanished again, swallowed once more by the undergrowth.

And time.

THE LAST ZOMBIE: BEFORE THE AFTER

The Last Zombie: Neverland #4 is on sale this week. Issue #5 hits stores next month. And the trade paperback collecting all five issues is up for pre-order. (And if your local comic shop doesn’t carry The Last Zombie series, you can buy back issues and all three trade paperbacks HERE). With Neverland drawing to a close, it’s time to look to the next story arc — The Last Zombie: Before The After.

Before The After is important for several reasons. First, I’m happy to announce that we’ll be expanding from 22-pages of story each issue to 26-pages of story, and the cover price will remain the same.

Secondly, Before The After will feature our first variant cover. Two editions of issue #1 will be published — one with art by series regular Joe Wight, and the other cover by the amazing Mike Hawthorne. (Mike offers a step-by-step look at the creative process HERE). Collectors will want to make sure they pre-order one of each from their local comic shop. If your comic store doesn’t carry The Last Zombie, you can also pre-order them now by clicking on the covers below.

I don’t think I need to say anything else. The covers speak for themselves.

THE LAST ZOMBIE: NEVERLAND #4

THE LAST ZOMBIE: NEVERLAND #4 is on sale now in all good comic shops. If your local shop doesn’t carry it, you can order it online HERE.

While the team tries to help the kids of Neverland, the confrontation that’s been building between Ian and Federman comes to a head. Meanwhile, Planters and Fulton take a road trip back to “Rat-Town”… only to end up in a deadly confrontation of their own!

Back issues of the entire series, as well as the collected trade paperback editions, can be ordered HERE.

GUEST BLOG: A Self-Publishing Challenge by Glen Krisch

Recently, Robert Swartwood and Mari Mancusi have both written guest blogs (here and here) about their transition from traditional publishing to self-publishing. Today, Glen Krisch is here to offer another perspective. He’s the author of The Nightmare Within, Where Darkness Dwells, Loss, and more. He’s also an editor for Morrigan Books, and has worked on books by Tim Lebbon, Lawrence Block, and others. Visit his official website, Twitter, or Facebook. When he and I talked about this essay, I had no idea he’d call me out in front of you. Let us know what you think in the comments.

I have long been a Brian Keene fanboy.  It hasn’t been just his stories that have drawn me in over the years, but his perseverance, his prodigious production, and his guardianship of the horror genre itself.   I first encountered Brian’s writing with his Jobs in Hell column.  Right away I knew he had a gift with words.  I’ve always enjoyed his nonfiction voice; it has a similar strength and resonance as Stephen King’s when he addresses his Constant Readers.  What makes Brian so successful as a writer is his ability to make it feel like he’s having a conversation with you, whether with his nonfiction, his blog, or his many works of fiction.

Anyway, as a newbie writer in the early 2000s, Brian’s work ethic became something I wanted to emulate.  When I was first discovering Brian’s work, I was also writing the first novel I would finish, The Nightmare Within.  During that time, and for the better part of the next decade, I worked hard to land an agent or traditional publishing deal.  I may not be as productive as Brian, but during those formative years, I wrote two more novels, a handful of novellas, and a few dozen short stories.

For years I chased that dream.  For years it became my obsession.  For years, as I learned the ins and outs of writing and submitting, I convinced myself (or should I say, I listened to every reputable author’s opinion on the subject) that the traditional path was the only path.  Any other path was the path of failure.  Any other path was vanity publishing, and that stigma, once submitted to, was hard to escape.

I don’t know the exact reason I never landed a traditional deal.  Publishing can be such a crapshoot at times, with plenty of talented writers never coming close to landing a deal.  I came close to landing an agent with my second novel, Where Darkness Dwells.  This agent is highly respected in the Big 6 of publishing (think sparkly vampires).  My story got as far as a thorough read of the full manuscript, but in the end, the agent didn’t think she could sell it.  Who would want to read about an undead society living in the caves and tunnels below a Great Depression mining town?  Well, I thought plenty.

Around this time a small press publisher asked me if he could publish The Nightmare Within.  I was nearly overcome with joy at finally receiving that fateful email.  Once the contracts were signed, I was set to rake in an advance of $200.  I was so happy at the time that I didn’t even blink at that insulting number.  The publisher held the work, always showing interest in publishing it, but the contract never materialized.  I had put my faith in someone other than myself to make my dreams come true. And you know what?  I wasted three years waiting.

This confluence of rejection and dejection came to pass in the Fall of 2010.  I was drained and unable to imagine another multi-year wait of submission hell.  I began to think the unimaginable.  I started to doubt my own beliefs that the traditional path was the only acceptable one for me.

I had heard about the brewing ebook craze from the beginning.  I had been a reader of JA Konrath’s books and blog since he sold his first published novel, Whiskey Sour.  Though I’ve never met Joe Konrath in person, he lived nearby and taught at the local community college.  When I was trying to decide about the direction of my publishing future, Joe was selling hundreds (if not thousands) of digital copies of his work per month.

In December 2010, I took the plunge into self-publishing territory.  I felt like a total loser when I hit the publish button and uploaded The Nightmare Within to the Amazon store.

I decided I would upload just the one title, and if nothing happened, if it was just one more failure in the long line before it, I would give up on that avenue and return my attentions to landing a traditional deal.  I didn’t sell much at first, as expected, but the strong early reviews were enough to keep me going.  And as 2010 became 2011, I decided to also upload Where Darkness Dwells.  I still wasn’t selling much, usually only enough sales to keep my family in pizza once a week.

As 2011 neared its end, I decided to enroll my works (which now includes six titles) in Amazon Select.  This program allows the author to market five free promo days in the 90 day enrollment period.  I thought, What the heck?  What did I have to lose?

Many authors get riled up about Amazon Select and the authors who offer readers the chance to download their work for free.  Usually these people are entrenched in the ways of traditional publishing.  They are invested in keeping the status quo, even if they are a small press or midlist author.  Some people feel like it’s cheating, that the authors who are enrolled in Select are taking short cuts and not paying their dues.   I see Select in a different light.  Select is a marketing platform, a tool for reaching readers you wouldn’t have otherwise.  How is someone like me, a hard working nobody, supposed to reach the masses?

Since enrolling in Select six months ago, my monthly sales have gone from around $50/per month, to surpassing my day job income in three of the last four months.  I’ve reached thousands of new readers by enrolling in this program, and these readers have, in turn, bought my other works.  I have an actual readership that has written 100 Amazon reviews (Glen’s Amazon author page). I feel like I have the freedom to write whatever I want, without the restrictions that come along with trying to land a traditional deal.  It’s my goal to be a full-time writer by the end of 2012.  Yes, I just typed that for the world to see.  While 2012 shows me glimpses of what can be, when 2013 rolls around, I want to be in my office every day, writing stories, and living my dream.

So, you might be asking yourself, “Why is this guy rambling on about self-publishing on Brian Keene’s blog?”

When Dorchester – Leisure collapsed I wrote to Brian to ask him about his future and if he would consider the indie path.  He obviously didn’t go that route, and I’m happy to see that he was a good thing going with Deadite Press.  However, I think it’s about time for Brian to self-publish something.  God, how far I’ve come from all those years chasing my traditional publishing dreams!  The way I see it, if a nobody such as myself can realistically see a time when I can become a full-time writer, there’s no reason someone like Brian can’t substantially increase his income based on one indie release.  No one deserves success more than Brian.  For everything he’s done in the wake of Leisure’s collapse alone, he deserves the best.

I know Brian has many commitments and plenty of publishers willing to work with him.  But in this new publishing world, authors need to be agile, flexible, and willing to move with the tide.  I’d love to hear what readers of Brian’s blog have to say about it.

Six Days and The Triumvirate

You will remember, of course, how the first Maelstrom set included Kelli Owen’s debut novel, SIX DAYS, and how everyone who purchased that first Maelstrom set forgot all about A Gathering of Crows or The Rising: Deliverance, and instead raved about how good Six Days was, with many fans calling Kelli “The next Brian Keene” (which I tease her about, because I have far more back hair than she does).

Well, now Six Days is available for Kindle readers at the low introductory price of $2.99. Click here to start reading in less than a minute.

But maybe you prefer hardcovers over digital or paperbacks, in which case you’ll be excited to hear that an affordable hardcover edition of Mary SanGiovanni’s new novel, THE TRIUMVIRATE, is now available for just $35.

Click here to order it (or, if you’re a collector, you can also snag the more expensive $65 edition at that link, as well).

The Triumvirate is the third book in The Hollower trilogy, but it can be read as a stand-alone novel. However, if you haven’t read The Hollower or Found You, copies of the limited editions are available here and here.

Attention: Aspiring Horror Writers

My friends Sarah Langan, Paul Tremblay, John Langan, and F. Brett Cox are teaching a 4-week online course beginning June 4th. All proceeds will benefit the Shirley Jackson Awards. For full details, tuition fees, etc. click HERE.

(And don’t forget, I’m an instructor at next year’s Borderlands Boot Camp, details of which can be found HERE).

Jax

This is Jax. A year ago, he successfully beat a brain tumor. Now, Jax is battling cancer for a second time. Jax’s mother, Candace, is a loyal reader of mine. She’s holding a fundraiser for Jax on June 9th near London, Ontario. I’m asking all other fans in the area to attend and show your support. Details here.