Robert McCammon

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Robert McCammon


Born
in Birmingham, Alabama, The United States
July 17, 1952

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Robert Rick McCammon was a full-time horror writer for many years. After taking a hiatus for his family, he returned to writing with an interest in historical fiction.

The sixth book in his Matthew Corbett historical fiction series, Freedom of the Mask, was published in May 2016.

The second book in the Trevor Lawson I Travel by Night series, Last Train from Perdition, was published in October 2016.

His next novel, a standalone book called The Listener, will be published in February 2018 by Cemetery Dance.

McCammon resides in Birmingham, Alabama. He is currently working on the seventh Matthew Corbett novel, Cardinal Black.

Robert McCammon isn't a Goodreads Author (yet), but he does have a blog, so here are some recent posts imported from his feed.

The Swan Song limited edition published by Subterranean Press is shipping this week! The lettered editions were shipped last week.


Unfortunately, the book sold out within hours of it going on sale. Copies are already showing up on eBay for rather exorbitant prices.


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Published on September 20, 2017 09:42 • 24 views
Average rating: 4.09 · 142,132 ratings · 9,297 reviews · 109 distinct worksSimilar authors
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More books by Robert McCammon…
Speaks the Nightbird The Queen of Bedlam Mister Slaughter The Providence Rider The River of Souls Freedom of the Mask
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4.18 avg rating — 17,260 ratings

The Wolf's Hour
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I Travel by Night Last Train from Perdition
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Łabędzi Śpiew. Księga I Łabędzi Śpiew. Księga II
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“You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn’t realize we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don’t recall it. See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves.

After you go so far away from it, though, you can’t really get it back. You can have seconds of it. Just seconds of knowing and remembering. When people get weepy at movies, it’s because in that dark theater the golden pool of magic is touched, just briefly. Then they come out into the hard sun of logic and reason again and it dries up, and they’re left feeling a little heartsad and not knowing why. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes your attention from the world, when you listen to a train passing on a track at night in the distance and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who you are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm.

That’s what I believe.

The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It’s not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don’t know it’s happening until one day you feel you’ve lost something but you’re not sure what it is. It’s like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you “sir.” It just happens.

These memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I’m going to be when my journey winds down. I need the memory of magic if I am ever going to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember, and I want to tell you.”
Robert McCammon, Boy's Life

“After years of having a dog, you know him. You know the meaning of his snuffs and grunts and barks. Every twitch of the ears is a question or statement, every wag of the tail is an exclamation.”
Robert McCammon, Boy's Life
tags: dogs

“The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It's not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don't know its happening until one day you feel you've lost something but you're not sure what it is. It's like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you 'sir'. It just happens.”
Robert McCammon, Boy's Life

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