Brian Keene's Blog, page 185

Revised Horrorfind Author Schedule

(If you're looking for Deluge, scroll down two entries). We had a few cancellations, due to hurricane-related chaos (authors displaced from their homes, etc.). The schedule has been revised. The big changes are the times for the Bizarro panel, and the addition of the Literary Award ceremony.

HORRORFIND 2011 AUTHOR PROGRAMMING SCHEDULE (REVISED)

FRIDAY

5:30pm – 6:30pm: Zombies – Authors Christopher Golden (moderator), Tim Lebbon, Jason Gehlert, Jeremy Wagner, and Scott Baker discuss why the dead just won't stay dead, and why the literary zombie craze is far from over. (Reading Room)

6:30pm – 7:30pm: Ronald Malfi and Rio Youers (Reading Room)

8:30pm – 9:00pm: James Newman and Norman Prentiss (Reading Room)

9:00pm – 10:00pm: Women in Horror – Authors Kelli Owen (moderator), Sheri White, Mary SanGiovanni, J.F. Gonzalez, James A. Moore, and Lesley Conner discuss the history and contributions of women in literary horror, and their future roles. (Reading Room)

SATURDAY:

10:00am – 10:30am Spooky Stories for Kids with Robert Gray (Outside – Rear Carport)

10:00am – 11:00am: Thomas F. Monteleone (Reading Room)

11:00am – Noon: What We've Learned So Far – New authors Kevin Lucia (moderator), Lincoln Crisler, Stavros, Jacob Haddon, and Bryon Morrigan discuss the perils, pitfalls, and lessons learned from publishing in the new millennium. (Outside – Rear Carport)

11:00am – Noon: James A. Moore and Mary SanGiovanni (Reading Room)

Noon – 1:00pm: Jason Gehlert and Jeremy Wagner (Reading Room)

12:30pm – 1:30pm: Politics and Religion in Horror – Politics and religion are two things many prefer not to discuss, yet horror fiction examines them regularly. Authors Kim Paffenroth (moderator), Andersen Prunty, Ronald Malfi, Kelli Owen, Rio Youers, Norman Prentiss, and James Newman discuss why. (Outside – Rear Carport)

1:00pm – 2:00pm: Tim Lebbon and Christopher Golden (Reading Room)

2:00pm – 3:00pm: Nick Cato (Reading Room)

3:00pm – 4:00pm: Brian Keene and Kelli Owen (Reading Room)

4:30pm – 6:30pm: Bizarro World – Authors Andersen Prunty, Jeff Burk, Gregory Hall, Eric Mays, William Pauley III, Jordan Krall, Kevin Donihe and Nick Cato discuss the origins and future of the Bizarro genre, and offer some select readings and performances. (Reading Room)

5:30pm – 7:00pm: Author Q&A – Authors Tim Lebbon, Christopher Golden, James A. Moore, Brian Keene, J. F. Gonzalez, Kelli Owen, Mary SanGiovanni, and Thomas F. Monteleone answer your questions about anything in this no-holds-barred Q&A. (Outside – Rear Carport)

SUNDAY:

11:00am – 11:30am Spooky Stories for Kids with Robert Gray (Outside – Rear Carport)

11:00am – Noon: Charles Colyott, Brent Abell, and Ryan Clark (Reading Room)

Noon – 1:00pm: Lincoln Crisler and Bryon Morrigan (Reading Room)

1:00pm – 2:00pm: Robert Ford and Kevin Lucia (Reading Room)

2:00pm – 3:00pm: Jeff Burk and Scott Baker (Reading Room)

3:00pm – 4:00pm: Jacob Haddon and Lesley Conner (Reading Room)

4:00pm – 5:00pm: Wesley Southard and Jay Franklin (Reading Room)

3 New Thunderstorm Titles

(If you're looking for Deluge, scroll down to the next entry).

The Neighborhood

by Kelli Owen

A missing girl. A found fingertip. A puddle of blood without a body.

A small town neighborhood full of rumors and imagination through the eyes of its youth. Their world is a combination of grass stains and dried mud—the badges of childhood, that often look like blood in the right light.

$13.95. Click here to order.

For Emmy

by Mary SanGiovanni

Sometimes no matter how vigilant you are, you can't keep loved ones save. Dana McCluskey and her father know very well that there can be dangers around every corner. They wanted to keep Emmy safe. But it is impossible to see some dangers coming. And there are those corners that you'd never see, out-of-the-way places just beyond our grasp where loved ones can get very lost.

$13.95. Click here to order.

Samson and Denial

by Robert Ford

After a junkie walks into his pawn shop with a mummified head, Samson Gallows is thrown into a downward spiral through the streets of Philadelphia, getting more blood on his hands wherever he goes.

In 24 hours, Samson learns how deep betrayal can run, how strong the bonds of love are, and that winning can sometimes require sacrificing everything—including himself.

$13.95 Click here to order

DELUGE (Part 83)

"But why?" Novak asked. "It doesn't make any sense. Unless you…"

One by one, they stared at Simon as the truth dawned on them.

"A sacrifice," Gail gasped. "You want to use them as a sacrifice? As bait!"

Nodding, Simon stared at his feet, unable to look them in the eyes.

Gail stormed across the rolling deck. "How is that any different than what your captor did to you, Simon?"

"Because," he said, still not looking up, "this is to save our lives. Leviathan's monsters are converging on LeHorn's Hollow, and any other point in this region where we might effect an escape. Leviathan himself can sense my presence. His intelligence is far vaster than our own, but the same can't be said of his children. Some, like the mermaids or the starfish-men, are quite smart, in their own fashion. But most of them are mere predators, driven by hunger and a need to destroy, than by anything resembling real craft or cunning. Their master has driven them forward. They understand they're supposed to be hunting a large group of humans in a boat. But they have no way of determining which boat. Mr. Locke's ark will serve as a distraction."

"It doesn't bother you that there are children on board?" Mylon asked.

"Of course it bothers me." Simon glanced up. "I feel for everyone on that vessel. But I cannot save them. None of us can. Soon, what remains of this Earth will be completely absorbed into the Great Deep. That includes anyone left alive. They will never reach us in time, and I cannot open a door at their location. I can't save them, but I can save us."

The group fell silent. A burst of static came from the speakers.

"Novak?" Locke's voice sounded faint and distorted. "You still there?"

Frowning, Novak keyed the microphone. "I'm still here. Sorry. Just spotted something starboard. Give me a minute." He released the microphone again and stared sullenly at the others. "I'm tired of being in charge. Hell, I'm just tired in general."

"We all are," Gail said. "We've been—"

Novak held up a finger, interrupting her. "I'm tired of everything depending on my decision. I can't make this one by myself. What do you guys think?"

"It ain't right," Henry insisted. "What if it was us out there? How would y'all feel then? Them folks ain't done nothing wrong. They don't deserve this."

"And we don't deserve to die, kid," Caterina said. She stood in the hatchway. Water dripped from her yellow raincoat. They'd been so intent on the discussion that they hadn't heard her come in. "I vote to go with Simon's plan."

"We should at least tell them the risks," Gail said. "Rather than just sending them to their fucking doom!"

"If we did," Sarah said, "then the people on that ship would turn right around. I vote yes."

Henry glanced at her, his expression wounded.

"You're a hard one, aren't you?" Gail's tone thick with contempt.

"Let me tell you something." Sarah's voice was low and dangerous. "I killed my best friend to survive. He was infected with the fuzz, so I shot him. I've done a lot of other things, too, since the rain started. I'm not proud of them, but I'm alive. Do not judge me, and do not cast dispersions at me. From where I stand, you were pretty worried about your own fucking skin when you and Novak first met me and Henry in the tower."

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" Sarah balled her hands into fists. "Want me to refresh your memory?"

"Enough." Simon didn't raise his voice. He merely gestured. "This bickering is pointless. The matter isn't up for a vote. If you want to live, then do as I say."

Gail glanced around the bridge, studying each of the crew members. All of them refused to meet her gaze.

"Mylon? You're okay with this, too?"

He shrugged, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I don't want to die, Gail."

"I shouldn't be surprised, I guess. You sold us out easy enough during the mutiny."

"No, I didn't."

"That's not how it looked to Novak and me."

"Gail…" Novak held up a hand. "Stop. What's done is done."

"The hell with the monsters out in the water. The real monsters are in here."

She strode out of the cabin. The steel hatch clanged shut behind her. After a moment, Henry followed. The rest of them turned to Simon, who nodded at Novak.

"Go ahead."

"God forgive me," Novak whispered. Then he keyed the microphone. "Hey, Kevin. Sorry about the delay. Everything's cool, now. Listen, how fast can you go in that thing?"

"A good eighty knots when we've got a strong wind. And we've had a lot of those since the rain started."

"Okay," Novak said. "I'm gonna give you some coordinates and I want you to head there fast as you can. We've found a safe place."

Watching the tears stream down Novak's cheeks as he spoke, Sarah wondered if Locke could hear that he was crying.

Irene and the Welshman

Hurricane Irene stopped by to visit last night.  I let my toddler sleep in my bed on the second floor so he'd be safe from falling trees (unlike the third floor) and flooding (possible on the first floor). Then I stayed awake all night to watch over him and the house, ready to bug out for Coop's or my ex-wife's at the first sign of flooding, mudslides, or a tree crashing through my roof (provided their homes weren't experiencing the same). Come the dawn, all three of those things had happened, but luckily, they didn't happen to us (except for a mini-mudslide). I've posted damage pics below, including a $50,000 houseboat that crashed on shore within walking distance of my house. There was a big gash in the bottom, but no one aboard.

Next weekend is, of course, Horrorfind Weekend in Gettysburg, PA. Complete details can be found here. I'll be sitting between Mary SanGiovanni and Kelli Owen in the Celebrity Room. I will have books for sale, or you can bring your own. I do not charge for signatures or photographs. Also, the folks who run Horrorfind informed me they are starting an annual Literary Award, and I am honored to be the first recipient. That takes place Saturday night, from 7pm until 8pm. But while I am thrilled and humbled at this news, what I'm looking forward to the most is drinking a few pints with Tim Lebbon. It's been way too long since he and I have done that. How long? The last time we split a bottle of Knob Creek around a campfire, I was still married and Tim still had a few remaining tufts of hair. So yeah, it's been too long. And of course, it will be good to see all of you, as well.

DELUGE (Part 82)

Hours later, Sarah, Henry, and Mylon were sitting in the galley, hastily grabbing a meal of granola bars, canned fruit, and bottled water before heading topside for a turn on watch. Mylon was sullen and sat apart from them, quietly sipping the juice from the can.

"Penny for your thoughts," Henry said.

At first, Sarah didn't think the older man had heard him. But then Mylon slowly raised his head and looked at them with red-rimmed eyes.

"Uh," Henry stuttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were… crying."

Mylon shrugged. "It's okay. I reckon you didn't mean any harm."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sarah asked.

"Just thinking about my family. My wife and two daughters."

"Are they… did they?" Sarah wasn't sure how to phrase the question.

"They died," Mylon said. "No need to tiptoe around it. They died early on, before the flooding got bad. Remember when the super-storms first started, and those really bad winds were tearing down whole cities?"

Sarah and Henry both nodded.

"Well," Mylon continued, "one of those gusts hit our house. We were hunkered down in the basement, hiding from the worms, but it sheared our home right off the foundation. My wife and one of my daughters were killed by the debris. The worms took my other daughter soon after."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said.

"It's okay. Like I said, I've had time to deal with it. What I'm struggling with is that… I… well, I can't remember what they looked like anymore. I mean, I have a recollection, but it's not complete."

"Do you have a picture of them?" Henry asked.

"No. They got me one of those smart phones last Christmas, before all of this. I stopped carrying my wallet, and had all my pictures on the phone. Once the electricity and phone service went out, I didn't see the point in lugging it around anymore. Not to mention all this dampness in the air probably gummed it up anyway. Only pictures I have of them are in my mind, and some days, my mind feels like it's starting to fade."

"That's normal," Sarah said. "I've certainly felt that way. We're scared all the time, half-starved, cold, wet, and exhausted. It's natural for us to feel a little cloudy."

"That's not what I mean," Mylon said. "It's like earlier today, when that crab crawled over the side. It's terrible what happened to Tatiana, but afterward, I got to thinking that she was the lucky one. She doesn't have to deal with this shit anymore. We do."

"Not for much longer." Henry gulped the rest of his water. "If Simon can do what he says, then we'll be okay. You can even see your family again!"

"And run into another world's version of myself? No thanks. I reckon I'll just—"

A burst of static squawked out of the intercom, startling them. Sarah took a deep breath, expecting Novak to announce that yet another monster was pursuing them. Since the crab's attack, the crew had spotted various dark, humped forms in the water, but Novak had maintained maximum speed, and so far, they'd been able to shake the pursuit. What he announced instead was the last thing Sarah expected.

"Folks, this is your captain speaking." Novak sounded surprisingly cheerful. "I just thought you might like to know that we've just made radio contact with another vessel. We're talking to them right now, if anybody would like to come up to the cabin and listen in. The man in charge says his name is Kevin Locke. It sounds like he's got a pretty big group with him."

"Holy shit," Henry gasped. "We're not the only ones left alive!"

"Let's go," Sarah said, standing up. "I want to hear this."

Mylon joined them, and the three made their way to the bridge, where they found Novak and Gail gathered around the radio, while Simon stood to one side, listening. Through the fogged windows, Sarah caught a glimpse of Caterina, standing watch outside in a yellow raincoat.

"You guys can listen in," Novak said, muting the microphone, "but don't say anything. We think he might be a little crazy."

Sarah, Henry, and Mylon nodded. Then Novak keyed the microphone.

"Go ahead, Mr. Locke. Sorry about that."

"No problem," the man on the other ship said. "Like I was saying, God told me to build the ark before the rains started. My wife, Taya, thought it was just a dream I'd had, but I knew better. My neighbors thought I was crazy."

"Who could blame them?" Gail whispered.

"What's that?" Locke asked.

"Nothing." Novak shot her an angry look. "Please continue, Mr. Locke."

"Anyway, we lived in Lafayette, Indiana. I started building it right in my backyard. Eventually, I got Taya, and our neighbor Rudy to help me. Once the rains started, a bunch of other folks pitched in, too. As Lafayette began to flood, our ship just floated up off its moorings. By that time, it was only me, Taya, and Harley onboard. Harley is our dog—a little Yorkie. I don't know what happened to Rudy or his wife or our other neighbors. But we were safe and dry, and when the water levels reached the rooftops, we floated right out of our neighborhood. Since then, we've just been picking up survivors—plucking them off roofs and mountaintops. There's about thirty of us onboard. Dashiell is the youngest. He's a toddler. Cute little kid. A Korean lady is our oldest. We don't know how old, exactly. She doesn't speak English."

"And there are thirty of you?" Novak grinned as he asked it.

"Yes."

"That's amazing! Where are you guys now?"

"As near as I can figure, somewhere over Illinois."

Novak's grin turned to a frown. He muted the microphone again.

"What's wrong?" Gail asked.

"They'd never make it to Pennsylvania in time."

"Give them the coordinates, anyway," Simon said.

"Is there a way you can stall?" Novak asked. "I thought time was crucial?"

"It is, Mr. Novak. And as you said, there is no way they can reach LeHorn's Hollow before I open the gate into the Labyrinth. But I want you to give them the coordinates anyway."

Earthquake Ghosts

DC Comics has cancelled the publication of several previously-announced trade paperbacks, including DOOM PATROL: FIRE AWAY. I have no information on why or whether it will be rescheduled, because I found out from the internet.

Speaking of the internet, Kasey Lansdale and Damien Maffei created an official Twitter account and Facebook page for the forthcoming CASTAWAYS movie. Please Follow and Like if you are so inclined.

I was working on CLICKERS VS. ZOMBIES yesterday when the earthquake occurred. Turtle was upstairs taking his afternoon nap. The house didn't shake, but it creaked. I thought the sound was footsteps. Assuming he was awake, I went upstairs only to find him sitting up in bed looking scared and dazed. He hadn't gotten out of bed. Given my vocation, I immediately decided that what I'd heard was a ghost, and my new house was haunted, and the ghostly footsteps woke him up. It wasn't until my ex-wife got here a few minutes later (as per our extended family's National Disaster Emergency Plan) that I found out it had been an earthquake.

Downsizing

You can thank author Kevin Lucia for the above graphic.

Fangoria has a nice write-up about the upcoming film version of CASTAWAYS. Click here to read it.

It occurs to me that I'm downsizing. I closed the forum and changed this website's content to a more casual, sporadic Blog-style of reportage to further simplify my life, but I've also found myself getting rid of things in my personal life. I recently sold my very last box of comic books to Comix Connection. My collection once comprised 28 long boxes, all meticulously bagged and boarded. Now, it consists of a handful of Kamandi and The Defenders back issues that have yet to be reprinted in any sort of archival edition. I've also winnowed down my graphic novel collection, keeping only the archival editions for which I have nostalgia or which I'll re-read several more times before I die. But it doesn't stop there. My entire personal library has been cataloged on Library Thing. In the last week, I've pulled about 300 of those books off the shelves and put them aside as donations for my local libraries.

I'm not sure where this desire to downsize is coming from. I'm in relatively good health for a 43-year old man who has had his share, your share, and everyone's share of whiskey, women, tobacco, and the occasional drug. I have no plans to die soon, nor have I moved into a smaller home. Indeed, this new house on the river is ten times the size of my previous apartment, and needs filled. And yet, since moving here, I find myself casting things aside, rather than keeping them. It's all very strange.

For those keeping track, here's the FAQ Meter for CLICKERS VS ZOMBIES:

You can compare that against yesterday's Blog entry and see how much I got done in between spending nine hours with my toddler and mowing the lawn. And now I'm going back to it…

Adventures in New Misadventures

"Damn, its been 7 years here. Rock On Everybody, it's been one hell of a ride." Macker – The Keendom

It has indeed. It has indeed… I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm very grateful to the staff (both past and present), fans, and readers who made that place what it was over the last seven years. Every single reader and fan who participated in the forum — I can't thank you enough.

And I'm grateful to the authors who appreciated and understood what we built and where we were trying to take it. Not every author felt that way, of course, but that comes with the territory. One of the more suckier things that follows success is that people will use you. Sometimes, they aren't even aware they are doing it. Sometimes, they are. And sometimes, you are so used to people using you that you assume they are even when they are not.

In my experience, the hardest part these last few years has been figuring out who my friends are, and who my "friends" are. Success breeds paranoia, and you'll find yourself almost automatically dividing people into two camps – those who talk to you because of who you are, and those who talk to you because of who you are. There's an important distinction there, one I've written about a little bit in THE GIRL ON THE GLIDER. The Keenedom helped me divine those peer categories a little but more, and for that, I am also grateful, because I can use the lessons going forward.

But, onward and upward to new situations and misadventures, right? Above is the poster for the film version of GHOUL. It will also be the cover to the forthcoming audiobook (from Dark Realms) and paperback (from Deadite Press). GHOUL debuts later this year on ChillerTV (an NBC/Universal affiliate). I am told it will also screen in theaters in select cities, and have an eventual DVD and Blu-Ray release. I do not have any other information or a release date yet, but they are showing commercials for it on Chiller pretty much every hour. It is my understanding that REMAINS, based on the comic by my friend Steve Niles, will air first.

Las Vegas City Life has interviewed Nick Mamatas and I regarding our new novel, THE DAMNED HIGHWAY. You can read the interview for free by clicking here. If you haven't yet purchased the book, you an un-fuck that by clicking here.

While perusing online reviews of THE DAMNED HIGHWAY, I'm noticing a few readers commenting that this was their first exposure to Nick Mamatas, and they'd like to read more by him. If I might recommend my three favorites, check out UNDER MY ROOF, SENSATION, and NORTHERN GOTHIC.

And now it's time to meet the Fuck Around Quotient Meter. You've probably seen these on other author's websites. I like them, and I'm going to start using them here. That way, instead of emailing or calling me to see get a progress report, editors can simply check the latest update and they'll know how I'm making out. And you readers can play along, too. The meter tells you whether or not I've been fucking around too much on Twitter and Blip.fm and doing things like spending time with family, instead of writing.

Here is what I worked on last week, and where they stood as of last Friday evening:

CLICKERS VS. ZOMBIES

TREATMENT FOR MTV THAT I CAN'T TALK ABOUT

THE LAST ZOMBIE: SCAVENGERS (Note: In this case, 'Words' represents 'Pages')

In addition to that, I also began edits on the new Deadite edition of GHOUL, wrote a chapter of DELUGE, and made an effort to answer emails (and managed to answer 100 out of approximately 2,000 unread messages).

So, yeah. This is the new format. Same amount of information, but presented in a new way. Frees me up to do more with my day. Which I'm going to go do right now…

The Last Weekend Update

Why is it the last one? Because the format of this website is changing next week, as are many other things.

But you still got a new chapter of Deluge this week. And with only a few chapters left until the finale, I talked about my plans for Deluge upon its completion. And I talked about other things in this new interview.

My final three appearances of the year were announced.

And Tim Wick hates me.

DELUGE (Part 81)

With Novak and Simon in the lead, they raced up the ladder, weapons at the ready, and ran out onto the deck. The wind had picked up again, and Sarah squinted against the cold rain as it stung her face. She glanced around in panic, expecting to see giant tentacles with teeth-lined sucker-mouths, or a bulbous elephantine head sticking up out of the water and peering at them with baleful yellow eyes, but there was nothing. Fog rolled in over the ocean, obscuring their view.

The boat listed to the side again, spilling them onto the deck. The vessel groaned, as if under great stress.

"Grab on to something," Novak yelled, struggling to his feet. "Be ready for—"

A clacking sound interrupted him.

"The hell is that?" Mylon scrambled backward. "Sounds like a big pair of maracas."

The boat tilted more, and waves splashed over the side, drenching them. Then something else came over the side, as well.

At first, they only saw the eyes—two basketball-sized black dots attached to stalks that waved back and forth like wheat. Then a massive, serrated claw latched on to the railing, snapping it in half. A second claw appeared, and seized a length of metal ductwork. The steel bent as the claw squeezed. Then the claw's owner heaved itself over the side and onto the deck. The deck shook beneath them.

It was a giant crab. Sarah gaped at its size. It was big enough that the eight of them could have used its hollowed-out shell as a lifeboat. The eye-stalks wiggled as the creature surveyed them. It waved its arms in the air, clacking its claws together. Then it scuttled forward, its segmented legs clacking across the wet deck. Tatiana screamed as the beast bore down on her. Sarah saw Simon and Novak trying to reach her, but both men slipped as the ship rolled even further to the side.

Tatiana jabbed at the crab with her makeshift spear, but the creature grasped it, snapping the weapon in half. She shrieked as it pinned her down with two of its smaller legs, the tips piercing her chest and thigh. Then it seized her head in its other claw and squeezed, slicing the top off. Tatiana's brains slipped from her open skull and slid across the deck, leaving a grayish-pink trail behind.

Novak and Gail opened fire, pelting the crab with shot after shot. Most of the rounds were ineffectual, unable to penetrate the hardened shell, but they succeeded in blasting off one of the creature's eyes. Hissing, it stomped on the deck, writhing with agony.

"Aim for the other eye," Gail yelled, reloading.

She and Novak unleashed another volley, driving the enraged crab back to the rail. The ship rolled again, and Novak's shots went wild. The others ducked, except for Henry, who crouched next to Sarah, gaping. She grabbed his pants leg and pulled him down.

"Hold on to me," she shouted, wrapping her arms around a cable. "Don't let go!"

Nodding, Henry closed his eyes and shuddered.

Novak and Gail continued firing, forcing the crab back into the water. It paused on the railing, claws waving in frustration, lone-remaining eye glaring at them. Then it dove. As it did, the boat rocked hard. Tatiana's lifeless body slipped over the railing after it. The others screamed, hanging on for dear life. Then the boat splashed back down again, and rocked back and forth.

"Everyone back inside," Novak ordered.

"This was just the first," Simon said. "There will be others like it. Leviathan will send more denizens of the Great Deep after us. I suggest you make haste, Mr. Novak."

"I don't think we have enough fuel, Simon. I gun it, we're going to run out that much faster."

"If you don't, then we'll die here."

"Pedal to the metal, then," Novak said. "Next stop, Pennsylvania. If we can find it, that is."

"Pray we do," Simon answered. "All of you pray that we do in time."