Paul Tremblay's Blog, page 8

The Golem (and others) by Michael Cisco

At the end of 2012, Centipede press published a limited edition box set of 5 of Michael Cisco’s books, including The Golem, the sequel to his International Horror Guild Award winning novel The Divinity Student, which is currently being serialized for free at weird fiction review.

Snippet from my intro to the Golem:

“The alchemy of words ceasing to be words, words seamlessly melting before our eyes into grandiose imagery, into soaring hallucination, into fever dreams that tap directly into our subconscious and perfectly describe emotions that cannot be described is something that no author achieves with more effect than Michael Cisco.”

I got to spend time with Cisco at Necronomicon a few weekends ago. I showed a picture of a group of us (including Cisco) on the streets of Providence. I told him, “That guy is a genius.”

He said, “So he wears jeans?”

Me: “No. Not really.”

The Golem is now widely available as an ebook thanks to the Vandermeers and Cheeky Frawg Books. All five books from Centipede press are available as ebooks through Cheeky Frawg. Now go be digital.

One Hundred Apocalypses and Other Apocalypses by Lucy Corin.

I’m a big admirer (well, 6’4, anyway) of Lucy’s previous collection The Entire Predicament and her novel Everyday Psychokillers: A History for Girls. So, imagine my excitement when her new collection was recently published. And I wasn’t disappointed!

Apocalypses come in sizes large and small, universal and personal, in the title sequence of 100 vignettes and prose poems that never fail to move the reader. Included are also three other short stories/novelettes, my favorite of the strong bunch being “Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster,” which gets huge bonus points for the title, but it’s one of the most devastating and haunting pieces I’ve read this year.

The Wide, Carnivorous Sky by John Langan

I’ve read a bundle of fantastic short story collections this year and I’ll be reading more before the year is out. Aimee Bender, Manuel Gonzales, Laird Barron, Nathan Ballingrud, Ian Rogers, Lucy Corin, and more have all written stellar, first-rate collections, some of which I’ll blab out in more detail as September rolls along. John Langan’s is my favorite collection of 2013.

I mean, of how many collections can you say, “oh, this book has one of the best zombie stories (‘How the Day Runs Down’) ever written, and yeah, it has one of the best werewolf stories (‘The Revel’) of the past decade, and sure, it has an Iraq War/vampire story (‘The Wide, Carnivorous Sky’) that makes vampires scary all over again, and yeah, and a genius retelling of Poe’s “The Masque of Red Death” (‘Technicolor’) , and an insidiously creepy exorcism novella (“Mother of Stone”)…”

You get the idea. What I admire about John’s fiction is his willingness to explore a conceit to its fullest. He doesn’t back down or shy away from an idea. He big bangs the fucker. Deconstructing horror tropes (and the tropes of literary fiction) and then Frankensteining everything back together so that not only do you remember why you were originally afraid of the monsters of our youth and of our cultural memory, but are terrified at what they can and will do next.

The Summer is Ended and We Are Not Yet Saved by Joey Comeau

You can always count on Comeau to deliver a strange, unique read (I’m a big fan of his Overqualified and One Bloody Thing After Another), and his latest is no exception.

Martin is an 11 year old Momma’s boy. Only his Mom loves horror movies and gets a make-up/gross out effects gig in Toronto. Martin ships himself off to the bible camp near his grandparents’ house so his Mom can take the three-week gig. Then at the camp, all kinds of 80′s slasher stabby stabby stab stab happens.

Martin and his mother make the sad and quirky heart of this book, and I loved the weird, and ultimately heartbreaking letters she wrote to him while he was at camp. Unexpectedly dark (yeah, I said unexpectedly, despite the blood and grue on the cover), the quick novel will move and disturb you.

Tampa by Alissa Nutting

Kicking off my OPBM (other people’s books month), is one of the most talked about books of the summer of 2013.

Short review: I dug this hard-to-read, nasty, superbly stylized book.

Slightly longer review: I had some minor problems with the improbability of some of the plot points, but the plot really isn’t the point here. Nutting pulled off something that’s difficult to do, especially in today’s marketplace: she wrote a hard, hard read that’s impossible to put down.

Her unforgettable Celeste Price, eight-grade English teacher obsessed with having sex with and controlling 14 year old boys, is more Patrick Bateman than Humbert Humbert. And this is a smart choice. Celeste is cunning, clinical, conniving, desperate, a bald-faced liar, and unforgettable.

I hereby declare September to be…

…other people’s books month. At least it will be on my blog.

All September long I’ll be posting pseudo-reviews, fannish praise, snide comments masquerading as litearyness, and other fun things while talking about other people’s books.

Readercon schedule

My Readercon schedule is light. Which means more hang out time!

Thursday

(all Thursday night programming is free to the public)

8:30 pm NH room, Reading.

The program says I’m reading from my co-written (with Stephen Graham Jones) YA novel. But I’ve changed my mind! I’m going to read a new short story called “Swim Wants to Know If It’s as Bad as Swim Thinks,” which will be appearing a future issue of Bourbon Penn.

Sunday

11:00 am Salon G, The Shirley Jackson Awards Ceremony

That’s it. Looking forward to hanging out in the non-pub and non-lobby as they’ll be under construction, apparently.

Lost Pages from the Black Guide

I started a creative writing club at my school this year. Pleased to report the club was a success! We met throughout the year to critique/discuss stories and poems the students had written. In the fall, John Langan and Laird Barron visited the school and answered questions. Suitably inspired by the visit of large, hairy, horror writers, for our end of the year collaborative project, we wrote LOST PAGES FROM THE BLACK GUIDE. The Black Guide makes an appearance in a number of Barron stories, most notably his “Mysterium Tremendum.” The students were to take one page from the guide and have at it, with the spirit of John’s and Laird’s stories in mind. Below are those pages from the students and one from me. Click on each for the full-size version of the page(s). Enjoy!

The Black Guide’s Cover:

From Edgar Escobar, grade 10

From Jackson McKeigue, grade 8

From Chris Kelly, grade 11

From Dan Fulham, grade 11

From James Elcock, grade 8

From Thomas Hovsepian, grade 8

From Nikhil “aka Randy” Basavappa, grade 12

From John Bartlett, grade 11

From Paul Tremblay, grade 19

From Jack Glynn, grade 9

From Joey Cerra, grade 10

From George Price, grade 12

Los Angeles Times Festival of Books

Going back to Cali. For a few days anyway.

I’ll be at the LA Times Festival of Books. Very much looking forward to catching up with friends and taking in the fest.

If you’re in the area, come on by. To the panel, appropriately enough, in the Mudd building.

1:30 p.m.
Fiction: Looking for Trouble

(Conversation 1083)




Tod Goldberg

Jerry Stahl

Paul Tremblay

James Greer
Moderator: Carolyn Kellogg

The Bronx/Bad Religion show, Boston, 3/28/13

lengthy subtitle to the post: Three elder statesmen (who aren’t that old really, but old enough, and aging well, though, I mean, we all look good, and smell good generally) of punk music fandom go to a great show without once verbally complaining about back or leg pain.

I met John Harvey and Geoffrey Goodwin at Boston Beer Works pre-show. We had good drinks and food. John, the beer expert, ordered expertly, while I flailed around resulting in drinks that were fine but I didn’t really want. Geoffrey let us in on a deep, dark secret about a famous/important band that he doesn’t like. I had to restrain John from flipping the table. Don’t worry, Geoffrey, I’ll take that secret to my grave.

The only dinner glitch is one that people who know me well could probably imagine. I was in the middle of a fun rant when my chicken sandwich arrived with pickles (yes, my version of first world problems). My fun rant bloomed into what we have now officially termed PICKLE ANGRY which is many levels above regular angry. To wit: Was he angry, or pickle angry? Initially I thought I was okay because the pickles were on top of the red onions, which I didn’t mind ditching, but the nasty-terrible-puke-enducing pickle juice had soaked into the bun. I flung pickles onto the table as I was pickle angry.

But we managed to compose ourselves and moseyed over to the House of Blues for the show. Our tix were for standing room on the second floor, but by the time we got in, there was no open spaces on the railings for us. I was momentarily again pickle angry. Instead of starting a second floor brawl while shouting Billy Idol Dead Kennedys tunes, we turned our weary eyes to the third floor. Best move ever. The third floor was balcony seating with some actual seats. Those seats were supposed to cost more than the general admission, but no self-respecting punk (even old ones) would pay more for cushy seats made by and provided for the man! So we got the cushy seats for free! Sweet! Thus no complaints about John’s bursitis and Geoffrey’s corns or bunions.*

The Bronx was up first and tore it up. A highlight for me was the tune Ribcage.

The lead singer M’f'ed us concerts goers all set long, like we deserved. Near the end of the set he went into the pit with his mic. Very cool view for us from above to see the swirling bodies in the pit and somehow the staff and concert goers managing to keep the mic plugged in while knocking the crap out of the singer. It was awesome!

Bronx in the pit, from John’s camera:

The Bronx singer in the pit with his mic.

Bad Religion hit the stage a little after 9:30 and played for almost two hours. 30 songs by my count, including four encores. They sounded great. Greg Gaffin was like an affable, goofy, smart ass uncle up on stage, amused by it all. I loved that for a band who wears their politics and ethos on their sleeve, they don’t take themselves seriously at all live. They poke fun of themselves (Gaffin introduced one tune with “This song is from our good old stuff”) and just let the music do their proselytizing. They impromptu performed half of “Refugee” by Tom Petty, complete with Graffin’s faux-nasal Petty impersonation.

For me, so many highlights, but they included “Generator,” “I Want to Conquer the World,” “21st Century Digital Boy,” “Suffer,” and “American Jesus.” The encore set opened with their earliest song, “Fuck Armageddon…This is Hell” and followed it up with their newest, the equally blistering “Vanity.” More pics below.

Great concert, great company, great night!

Bad Religion

*To be fair, John and Geoffrey have never told me that they suffer from those ailments, and  they likely do not. I just thought the blog post would be more interesting with that in there.