Weston Ochse's Blog, page 14

New Author Photos - Styling like Mad Men

World renowned photographer, John Urbancik, recently took some head shots at the World Horror Convention in Atlanta. Not sure which one I'm going to use for book covers. What do you think?





Black and white like this, I look like I stepped off an episode of Mad Men.

Speech for the Horror Writer's Association Lifetime Achievement Award for Jack Ketchum

I speechified at the World Horror Convention in Atlanta on Saturday. I was nervous. Standing in front of so many of the literati, my friends and peers, and a world-wide-streaming audience sent butterflies with switchblades carving through my confidence. I'm told it was awesome and was a highlight of the Bram Stoker Award Ceremony. Thank God.
I do owe some thanks, however. Thanks to Brian Keene for being my first reader. Thanks to Yvonne Navarro for making sure I didn't make a fool of myself. Thanks to Marsha and thanks to Stephen King for his kind email and comments, which I included. Thanks also to Brian Keene and Monica O'Rourke for your comments. Thanks also to Linda Addison for your comments. I'm sorry I wasn't able to include your heartfelt words because the speech was getting too long. They were magnificent. And finally, thanks for Lisa Morton for asking me to speechify. It was tremendous honor.
I was given free reign with the speech, so I made it a little roasty. When I mentioned this to Chris Golden he said, "Dude, this isn't NECON." No it wasn't, but once you've been to NECON, it's in  your blood.
So without further ado, here is the speech.
Congratulations Jack Ketchum, you are so deserving.

Speech for the Horror Writer's AssociationLifetime Achievement Award for Jack KetchumBy Weston Ochse  


When I first met Rob Lowe, I couldn’t get over how timeless he looked. His hair was a shade darker and his smile was a degree or two whiter, but it was definitely the same guy I’d seen in St. Elmo’s Fire and Hotel New Hampshire groping Brat Pack actresses.
And to think that Rob Lowe was also a horror author.
Wow.
Just wow.
Call me a fan boy.
I mean who knew?
And then some dumb ass popped my Rob Lowe bubble and told me the guy’s name wasn’t Rob Lowe and was really Jack Ketchum. I said that sounded like a fake name and asked if maybe this Rob Lowe-looking guy wasn’t actually the real Rob Lowe slumming in the horror gutter pretending to be a Rob Lowe-looking Jack Ketchum but was really Rob Lowe all along?
Right?
Can’t you see it?
In fact, I was told that Jack Ketchum WAS a fake name. The Rob Lowe-looking guy-named-Jack-Ketchum’s real name was Dallas Mayr.
Right.
Dallas.
Mayr.
How many of you think that Dallas Mayr sounds like a fake name too?
Dallas Mayr. Sounds like Texas pork product.
Dallas Mayr. Something you eat along with the pickled eggs at a bar. Dallas Haranguing Me for Pronouncing His Last Name to Rhyme with Oscar Meyer (as in wiener)

Dallas Mayr my ass.
And I was right. You see, it turns out that Dallas Mayr isn’t the only name he’s gone by. Turns out that his real name is Jerzy Livingston and he was a regular contributor to the iconic literary tome known as SWANK for a considerable number of my formative years. I remember reading Swank as a kid. You’d think I’d remember Jerzy Livingston, but in all honestly, I never knew there were actual words in the magazine.
Back to my hypothesis. Maybe this guy sitting here really is Rob Low pretending to be a horror author who just looks like Rob Lowe?
Can you see it?
Let me just point out the obvious. This Dallas-Jack-Jerzy person and Rob Lowe have never been in the same room at the same time.
Or have they?
Just saying…
Back to the lifetime achievement award presentation. Here’s how it works. To be eligible for this award, a candidate must either be at least sixty years of age by May 1 of the year of the award's presentation, or must have first produced professional work in the field of Horror at least thirty-five years prior to May 1 of the year of the award's presentation. All recipients must be alive at the time the President is informed of the committee's choice.
This guy checks all the blocks.
What the criteria doesn’t say, but is certainly implied, is that the recipient must have had a significant impact on the genre and that is definitely a block Dallas has checked with a giant marker.
Look at this Rob Lowe lookalike. Beneath his craggy whiskey-scented exterior, behind the shifty eyes, and hidden within his lean, teenager’s body, is a nurturing soul.
I know, right? It’s not so obvious. To think that the man whose mind created The Girl Next Door is a nurturer is like having the Good Rob Lowe and the Bad Rob Lowe in the same body.
I can remember when I first started writing back in 1997. I met up online with a group of other writers who would come to be known as the Cabal. Folks like myself, Rain Graves, John Urbancik, Mikey Huyck and Brian Keene huddled in front of our respective computer screens as we texted in hushed characters in a solemn but now lost place known as the Horrornet Chatroom. On occasion a real writer would come by. Folks like Ray Garton, Dick Laymon, Doug Clegg, F. Paul Wilson, and Tom Picirrilli would slide in and we’d shut our yammering to hear how it was to be a real writer. Jack Ketchum was one of these guys who would slide in and give us advice. Not that he needed to. He just wanted to.
He was the same in person as he was online. He always offered an eager smile. He always acknowledged a fellow writer, even if that fellow writer hadn’t published anything other than a letter to his mother. When asked for advice, he was quick and confident, bestowing everything one might need to know about the craft of writing and the nature of surviving the publishing industry. He might look like the Bad Rob Lowe, but he’s always been the Good Rob Lowe to us writers scrabbling and scraping up the sheer wall of literary possibilities.
One stultifyingly hot NECON afternoon, found me getting a leg up. I had my first mass market book contract and was writing Empire of Salt for Abaddon Books. While everyone else was outside in the quad loudly getting their drink on, I was inside working. I got to the point where I needed to take a walk and get my thoughts together. I went outside, strolled around the building and through a parking lot, and ended up bumping into Dallas. He asked what I was doing and why I wasn’t with the others. I said I had a book due and that I needed to get some pages done before I could party. He then asked about the book and I meekly said, “It’s a work for hire zombie book,” as if work for hire was a disease. He locked me in that stern-take-no-shit-gaze he can produce on dime and asked, "Are you getting paid?" I nodded. "Is it a mass market book?" I nodded. "Then don’t apologize. You’re writing. They’re partying. My guess is that you’re going to keep writing for longer than they’re partying."
I never again felt bad writing a work for hire book. And I always remembered that it’s the work, not the partying, that makes a writer.
The success I’ve had in my own career can be directly attributed to the advice, mentorship, and friendship Jack Ketchum gave me and continues to give me.
And I know I’m not alone.
Here’s what my good friend Brian Keene had to say - "I received my first mass market contract at a convention. I was sitting at the hotel bar by myself, looking over it, when Dallas sat down next to me. He asked me to buy him a drink and let him see the contract. I did. He then asked the bartender for a red pen. Soon, he was going over my contract, adding things and crossing others out, all while not spilling a drop of his drink. When he was finished, he handed the contract back to me and said, "That's how you negotiate a contract. Keep a copy of this and use it as a template." That contract was for a book called THE RISING, and I have used Dallas's template on every book ever since."
I asked Monica O’Rourke if she had anything to say, knowing she’s been a longtime confidant and co-conspirator. She said, "do you mean something I can say in public? Something that doesn’t involve alleged sex, alleged drugs, and tons of booze?"
Notice we didn’t use the word alleged with the booze, man.
And I said, yes, something we can say in public and something that doesn’t involve alleged sex, alleged drugs, and tons of booze.
So after six months of thinking about it….
Seriously, Monica thought about it and after lots of tears and wringing of hands she provided this. "Dallas has always been one of my most critical readers, and while I didn’t quite appreciate it at the time, I sure do now. When Dallas read something I’d written, I wanted glowing praise, not, “Here’s what you should have done with the ending,” or “No, if you plug up that orifice with metal, blood will come out here, not here—and this is how I know.” I didn’t know how to overcome the horrifying fact that Dallas didn’t consider me the next Hemingway. I dreamed of ways to convince him I was brilliant, but most of my ideas involved chloroform and a lobotomy. Then, a few years ago, Dallas read something I’d written and had nothing but nice things to say about it. Of course I’d convinced myself he was just being kind. But isn’t that the sort of stupid thing we writers tend to do? Especially, when you finally manage to listen to the advice and apply what your literary idol has been telling you all these years."
Even Stephen King recognizes Jack Ketchum’s contribution to great literature. When I asked him to comment about Rob Lowe—I mean Dallas, he said, “Beginning with Off Season some thirty years ago. Dallas Mayr—writing as Jack Ketchum—almost single-handedly created a new form of horror/suspense fiction, marrying true crime to the horror genre and adding an unflinching realism that few other writers had the chops—or the guts—to equal. His stories are not for the fainthearted, and were never intended for them. His ability to create gripping situations and indelible characters is unparalleled.”
As you can see, this man has definitely made an impact on the industry. He’s always been easy to approach, he takes time out of his day to help new and old writers alike, and oh yeah—somewhere along the way he helped create a whole new subgenre.
Yes, he did that.
I’m pleased to call Dallas my mentor and friend, just as many of you are.
So Mr. Rob Lowe or Jack Ketchum or Dallas Mayr or Jerzy Livingstone, whoever the hell you are, please allow me to present to you the Horror Writer Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award.
There are none more deserving.
__________________
Photo Credits: First two courtesy of Yvonne Navarro. Third Photo courtesy of Jonathan Maberry.

How to Eat Healthy and Live Dangerously

Living Dangerously is all about rejecting the norm. It's about deciding you're not going to take the simple path. As Robert Frost would say, I took the one less traveled by. Is there danger with doing things other people don't do? Some people think so. To them the very idea of change is dangerous. I've been doing it for so long danger is the norm.

I need change.

I reject commonality.

I want to be different.

So as you noticed in yesterdays post, I explained how a 4 day vacation resulted in 4 pounds gained. Most people would lock themselves into a fall out shelter and eat oatmeal and smoothies the rest of the week. That's the easy way to lose the weight. The dangerous way is to confront the food. Eat well. Eat healthy. And exercise.

Here's my menu for the week:

Monday - Leftover cauliflower fried rice with leftover bbq pork ribs. That's like a double leftover meal. Served over steamed cabbage.

Tuesday - Scrambled eggs with onions, capers, white wine, garlic and fennel. Served with a sunburst tomato and mint salad. Yes, you can have eggs for dinner.

Wednesday - BBQ Chicken Salad with leftover bbq chicken breast, grilled corn, black beans, onions, lime, cilantro and low fat blue cheese dressing.

Thursday - Grilled Trout with Sardinian Couscous with steamed clams. I caught the trout but haven't made the couscous before. But I do have a recipe so we'll see how it turns out.

Friday - Farmers Market Pappardelle Pasta with Pan-seared Scallops. I love this pasta. Drizzled with a simple sauce of meyer lemon olive oil it's going to be fantastic. I might use shrimp instead if scallops are too expensive.

Saturday - Out for Dinner with a friend from out of town.

Sunday - Grilled Salmon with Cucumber Quinoa Salad. I love love love grilled salmon. I could have it every day. The cucumber quinoa salad is a nice bright fresh accompaniment.

Notice what you don't see. You don't see any beef or bread. You don't see anything premade or processed, which usually contain unholy amounts of sodium as well as other unsavory ingredients. You don't see anything cooked in butter. I'll use EVOO instead.

What's for breakfast? Usually coffee, yogurt and a piece of fruit.

What's for lunch? Either a salad, soup or leftovers. Small portion.

What's for snack? Fruit. We have 4 pineapples cut up in the house this week. I graze on that.

And of course, exercise. Yesterday I burned 600 calories by doing a spin class and lifting weights. Today I'll probably run and burn about 400 calories. It's important to exercise every day, if only just a little.

So what are you eating?

Are you living dangerously?

Or are you living safe?

Come on, live dangerously. I dare you!

Whoops! What Did I do? Need to exercise Quick!!!

We took a mini-vacation to Jerome, Arizona the last four days in celebration of yet another of my mother's 21st Birthdays. We had an incredible time, especially our stay at the Surgeon's House Bed and Breakfast. You know you're having a great time when you're still there and trying to figure out when you can come back. Yeah, it's that sort of place. One of the Brekkies we had at the B&B
I managed to exercise only once during the four days by doing some stretching and yoga exercises as I stared across a thirty mile view. It was stupendous. 
But alas, with all the food and lack of exercise and wine -- oh boy was there food and wine -- I gained four pounds. One for each day, I suppose. Good thing I wasn't there for a week.
But no regrets. This was a vacation. You're supposed to enjoy yourself.
I don't regret the 12 oz NY strip.
I don't regret the almost pound of shrimp I had for breakfast one day.
I don't regret the 1/3rd pound venison burger or the heaping French Fries.
I don't regret the copious amounts of wine I drank.
You know why? 
Because I'm allowed to cheat every now and then.
But you gained four freaking pounds? What are you going to do about it?
I'm not going to panic. I know my body and I know how to exercise. Here's what I'm going to do for the next week-Limit my carbsNo beefWatch salt contentEat yogurt for breakfast and take probioticsIncrease fresh veggies and fruit intakeDrink lots of waterDaily Exercise I mean, Who Can Say No to a Venison BurgerThe last one (Daily Exercise) means I have to do something every day. For me, something constitutes at least 400 calories burned during a session. I have a Suunto Ambit 2 watch, so it tracks it for me.
Today I did a spin class and some bench presses, burning 600 calories. Tomorrow I'll probably do a long yoga workout. If my legs aren't killing me, I might run and then do a short yoga workout.
It's all good.
No reason to panic. 
I bet that I'll be 4 pounds lighter by Friday.
Easy Peasy Japanesey!

Trout Fishing on the Lower Provo

Accidental selfie.
You can't live dangerously without a little fishing. If you're a follower of this blog, then you'll remember when I posted the blog about fishing when I was in Afghanistan called When I Used to Be a Fisherman. Somewhere along the way I'd stopped fishing. No more.

Ever since I came back from Afghanistan in the fall of 2013, I've been trout fishing where I can. We have a little alpine lake close by that has rainbow stockies. Really no more than 9 or 10 inches if you're lucky. On day I latched onto a school of them and caught 30 8 - 9 inch trout (or maybe there were only two and they took turns leaping onto my lure). But these fish are small and hard to find. The best part about Parker Canyon Lake is that I can take my fishing yak on there. Now that's fun.
My son and I went up to Silver Creek last fall. We tried to fish, but a deluge and subsequent flood spoiled that for us. Seriously. The creek flooded within 30 minutes of us arriving. Sigh.
I recently tried to fish the Lower Salt River in Arizona and was skunked. Nothing. It was a freezing morning and no one was catching anything.
Then in January I tried to fly fish the Lower Provo River in Utah. I'm not a very good fly fisherman yet. I tried nymphing. But again. Freezing. And nothing. Not even a strike.
So when I returned to the Lower Provo River this time, I decided to fish the way I normally fish and that's with spinners. Only question was which spinner to use. And oh yeah. In the middle of April it snowed and got down to --you guessed it-- freezing.
But the day I went fishing dawned nice and beautiful. No snow and the temp raised to the mid-50s. So I hit the river, found a spot and began working through my spinners. First one I tried was one the guy at Cabellas told me to use. Ten minutes and nothing. The next one was a spinner mimicking a rainbow. Nothing. Then the next one mimicked a little brown trout. Still nothing.
I was beginning to wonder if I'd lost the touch. I'd done my research. I'd read the blogs. I'd bought what others had said worked. But still nothing.
Sigh.

Then I noticed that my lures were a little large. I also didn't like their action. So I tried a little spinner mimicking a brown trout. Three casts in and a fish rolled it's belly towards the lure, showing me the yellow and white of the brownies tummy. My heart leaped into my throat. I told myself to move slow.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.
Don't fumble this.
I was working my way up stream with waders, casting up towards the deeper waters at a 45% to 60% angle. I cast over where the fish rolled, retrieved the spinner, and BAM! It took it with only about ten feet of line left, so near I saw it take the lure and try and run with it.
Oh the joy and excitement. There's nothing like it. Catching a fish, especially a big fish like this after so long not catching anything is an almost indescribable feeling.
I brought it in, took a picture, then released it.
Funny thing. I've never done catch and release before. But I was traveling. Hell, my suitcase had my two travel rods, two reels, my lures, my Simms waders, and my Korkers boots. What was I going to do with a fish? Stuff them in my socks? I had to let it go.
Of course before I left my wife had said, You spend all this money on fishing gear to catch a fish just to let it go. You're so weird.

I thought it would bother me not keeping the fish. But you know what? I enjoyed it. And yeah, dear, it did feel a little weird.

That first brownie was not the last. Over the next six hours I worked different parts of the Lower Provo and caught and released ten fish.
Let me share them with you.
2nd Fish caught about two minutes after the first.
3rd fish caught about ten feet from where I caught the second. I was constantly inching upstream. 
I think this was the 3rd fish's brother.
Last one at this location. Then I moved on. When I returned to my car I met a fly
fisherman who'd come all the way from Switzerland to fish. He was in for a great time. 
This one wasn't as fat as the next one, but it was long and rangy.
I caught this one on a first cast in a place where I knew a lot of people had passed.
Just goes to show.
This is the same as the last one. It was a huge fish and fought the hardest of all of them.
I was pleased to return it to the river. This one was barely a keeper but it fought like it's big brothers.
Two guys were about thirty yards down stream fishing
from a bridge. I walked up and first cast. Boom!

How'd this Rainbow Get here?? About 15 inches.So that's it folks. After the rainbow, I called it a day. I drove around a little looking at spots I might try next time. 
Here's my Gear:Akuma Trio High Speed ReelSt. Croix lightweight Travel Rod6 pound testSimms WadersKorkers BootsLicence from Cabellasand some lures.

Grunt Traitor Gets a Cover Blurb

As a young man, I remember leaning against the inside of  the TC turret of my armored personnel carrier and reading a new book called Legion of the Damned by this author named William C. Dietz. I really should have been watching the road, especially if we were about to be attacked, but Legion of the Damned was such a damned good book (see what I did there?) and really something new to hit the military science fiction streets in ages, I couldn't put it down.
Lucky for me, we were just driving the APCs from the rail head at Yermo to the cantonment area at Fort Irwin. There were no real bad guys who were going to attack us. At least not until the exercise at the National Training Center started in a few days. So while every other TC ate dirt and stared squinty-eyed at the vehicle ahead of them, I wore a dust rag around my face and descended into a world where the dying or incarcerated could have a second life as cybernetic soldiers. I was so entranced, that I barely noticed the 104 degree heat. Okay, that last bit wasn't true. The heat had bitch slapped me good and proper and was an unrelenting hell of a gal. 
But at least I had Legion of the Damned. 
Fast forward 22 years - God, has it been that long? - and I'm writing my own military science fiction. Grunt Life was the first in my new series. I had the temerity to send it to Mr. Dietz. We'd corresponded a few times (he asked that I call him Bill). So I sent him a copy of Grunt Life and after some time, I received an email that I could not have imagined receiving those 22 years ago riding in the hatch of an APC in the middle of the Mohave Desert. 
He'd sent me a blurb.
This is what's going on the front cover of Grunt Traitor, the sequel to Grunt Life.
“Add Grunt Life to your list of must-have books.  This is action adventure at its best.” —New York Times bestselling author, William C. Dietz
To say that I am honored is beyond words.
To say that I am stunned is obvious.
And to think that a young corporal with dreams of becoming something more, managed to do so.
One of the best things about growing old and becoming a successful author is being able to make friends with those whom I've grown up reading.
It's an awesome benefit to a ton of hard work and inspiration.
If you haven't yet pre-ordered Grunt Traitor, you might think of doing so. Selling out the first print run means I can write more books.
If you haven't yet red Grunt Life, then what are you waiting for. After all, if William C. Dietz likes it, then you know it's great.
You can pre-order them from the links on the right, or you can order them from Mysterious Galaxy or Mostly Books, who both have signed versions of Grunt Life they can ship to your door.

Lamb Merguez Sausage Rigatoni - Recipe

Lamb Merguez Sausage RigatoniAuthor: Living DangerouslyDuration: 30 minutesAverage Cost: $12.00 USServes: 4-6
I discovered Lamb Merguez Sausage last year and I don't know where it's been all of my life. Seriously. As a lover of lamb, this North African spiced sausage is just wonderful. Plus, to find it out in the wilds of my little corner of Arizona is truly miraculous.
This is the brand I use. I see that you can order it online if necessaryHere's what happened. We go to the nearby town of Bisbee a lot. It's a cool little town with a lot going on. We always stop at the High Desert Market. They have a freezer with super expensive cheese, some goat, sometimes some Halibut, and other sundries. Clearly many of these things have been requested by some locals so the market likes to keep them in stock. One day I check and find five completely frozen packages of Lamb Merguez Sausage. Not knowing if it's good or not, I grab one. We go home and I cook it up throw it in some pasta with red sauce and then I get to experience how damn good it is.
The next day I drove thirty miles back to Bisbee and bought the other four packs. HA! Poor dude who had them order it for him was probably wondering what happened. Now there are two of us!!
Ever since, whenever they have the Lamb Merguez Sausage in stock, I buy every damned one of them. Sometimes they are not in stock. for weeks I wonder if it's that dude doing the same thing to me.
Lamb Merguez Sausage wars!!!
So the other day I was jonesing for some Lamb Merguez Sausage. We were having company over, so I decided to make it with some pasta. I knew I wanted something hollow, so I pulled some rigatoni mezza out of the pantry. This is perfect because it lets the ingredients coat the inside and the outside. I also didn't want to use any cream or any sauce. I wanted this to be rustic. This is the best version of it so far and with no butter or cream it's about as healthy as possible.
Ingredients
     Bag of Rigatoni Mezza or similar hollow pasta     6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling (I use Meyer Lemon)     6 fresh Merguez  sausages cut into very small pieces but not minced     8 ounces mushrooms, sliced4 spring onions, thinly sliced.     6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced     Freshly ground pepper     2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved (I prefer yellow sunbursts because of the color)     1/4 cup low-sodium chicken or beef broth     1/2 cup white wine     1/2 cup grated pecorino or parmesan cheese, plus more for serving.     2 oz goat cheese
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook as the label directs.
Meanwhile, heat 4 tbs olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the sausage and cook, breaking up any of the larger pieces with a wooden spoon, until it begins to brown, about 5 minutes. Add spring onions and cook until softened, about 3 more minutes. Add the garlic, mushrooms, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper to taste; cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms start to brown, about 3 minutes. Add the last 2 tbs of olive oil.  Add the cherry tomatoes and cook until they soften slightly, about 3 more minutes.
Add the wine to the skillet, then the broth to the skillet and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Stir in the pasta and cheese, adding more wine to loosen, if necessary. Fold the mixture together completely so that the rustic ingredients get into the pasta. Season with salt and pepper. 
This is a terrific meal. Serve with a salad if you want. Something light and green. Hold the tomatoes because this has that wonderful taste in spades.
What's in merguez? Always check the ingredients, but our friends at wilipedia say this:  Merguez is a fresh sausage made with lamb, beef, or a mixture stuffed into a lamb-intestine casing. It is heavily spiced with cumin and chili pepper or Harissa, which gives it its characteristic piquancy and red color, as well as other spices such as sumac, fennel, and garlic.

Iron Chef Guarnaschelli vs Chupacabra Stuffed Clams

Yes, this is a story about my recipe for Chupacabra-Stuffed Clams and Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli.
This recipe is a real thing. At least it is if you can find some chupacabras or 'cabras as we in the know call them. 
So here's the deal. I'm part of the Apocalypse Weird universe. If you haven't heard about it, it's the one that Ann Rice is talking about as well as The Guardian and many other big news outlets. It's a shared multiverse where many authors come together to write novels, then other authors can come and write stories and novels in this evolving universe. It's cool. It's real cool. The first five books dropped already and you can read about them here. You can also get the first book-- The Red King-- for free here.
So that's background.
The other day  Nick Cole, one of the Grand Poobas of the AW, said, 'Let's do a cookbook.'
If you know me, then  you know I'm all in for a cookbook. Enough of you have already asked me... nay begged me... to write one. So I took one of the characters in my forthcoming AW novel -- Red Palm -- and he wrote a recipe for Chupacabra-Stuffed Clams because it was the favorite thing his mother made before she passed.
So fast forward and another member of AW who lives in New York frequents the same place as  Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli. The AW member shares some small talk with her, then on a whim mentions, "Hey, this writer named Weston Ochse wrote a recipe for Chupacabra-stuffed Clams," because he wanted to gauge her reaction.
She gave him a look, much like the one she gives bad chefs on Chopped right before she eighty-sixes them off the set, and then without batting an eye says, "Minced, right?"
Minced!!
That's too damn priceless.
And yes, Iron Chef, they are minced... if you can find them.
I think it would make a hilarious episode of Chopped if the producers had a bunch of horror authors (like me... hint hint hint) cooking recipes like this. I can see it now as host Ted Allen says, "Okay Chefs. In your basket you will find kumquats, Sasquatch, Spanish olives, and gefilta fish. You have 45 minutes to make an appetizer for the judges." Of course it's only a notional Sasquatch, but it would sure make for a cool episode. Think of all the horrific ingredients they could come up with. Sasquatch, chupacabra, Mongolian Death Worm, the Jersey Devil, or Loch Ness Monster eggs. 
Come on! It just reeks of cool!
If I was on it I'd figure out a way to make the Chupacabra-stuffed Clams for Chef Alex Guarnaschelli and she'd love them.
Here's a sneak peak at part of the recipe.

Chupacabra-stuffed Clams

A Recipe from Lance Corporal Rutherford B. Hayes

This was my momma’s favorite recipe. Before the Sonoran Death Worm grabbed her and took her under, she’d pay the transportation guys extra cash, give them home-cooked meals, and once or twice took them out behind the shed, just to get them to bring her some fresh clams over the Great California Wall and from the coast. She’d do anything to feed her marines. No sacrifice was too much. Because the journey was so dangerous and because space aboard our few remaining air frames were at such a premium, it was a rarified event when we got clams live enough for her to make this amazing dish. But when we did, oh man, there was nothing else we'd rather eat.

Now the first thing you have to understand is that Chupacabra don’t taste good by themselves. You probably know this, but they’re as tough and stringy as the shoe leather on a long walker. They can’t be served alone, unless of course that’s all you have. But then I pity the fool who can’t figure out how to combine ingredients to make something better.

One of the reasons momma liked this was because she got such a kick out of taking something huge and mean and gnarly and stuffing it into something tiny and sweat and clean. These chupacabra-stuffed clams are so briny and unxious and smoky, it’ll take a whole platoon of dull-eyed lip-smackers to hold you back once you learn of the magic of these beauties. 

First thing you need are the clams. Cherry Stones are the best. Don’t get the small ones, neither. Get the biggest ones you can get. If you haven’t shucked a clam, I think you outa smack yourself upside the head, then go find someone who knows. Don’t go using a hammer or the butt of your rifle or a rock. You’re going to need the shells to stuff the ‘cabra in. Without them, you can’t even make this dish.

So make sure you shuck them proper, saving all the glorious clam juice that comes out of it in a separate container. Once properly shucked, separate the meat from the shells and wash everything to get rid of the sandy grit and any bacteria that might be clinging to the little sea beasts. Now set these aside in a refrigerated place.

Hopefully, you have a fresh-killed ‘cabra. Don’t go getting no old kill, neither. You need fresh kill for this recipe.  My momma liked to take shank meat and chop it up fine. You can choose whatever part of the ‘cabra you need, just stay away from the jowls unless you’re sure of the condition of the poison sack. You dip into that and this will be the last thing you eat for a while. Instead, you’ll be doing the kickin’ chicken for a long time, then end up paralyzed while all your friends and family point their fingers and laugh at you.

Once it’s minced, make sure you combine all the ingredients. Of course, if you’re tired of ‘cabra and want to make this dish even better and you have access to pork, Mexican-style chorizo is a good substitute. But who can even get a pig these days.

END OF EXCERPT-- THE FULL RECIPE WILL BE AVAILABLE SOON. I SHALL LET YOU KNOW. 

Corrupts Absolutely - Anthology of Antiheroes

Corrupts Absolutely is back in a new edition -- this one from Ragnarok Publications -- and it has my story Hollywood Villainy. In the world of meta-humans and anti-heroes, my boy Valiant Fang stands tall, even though he's really just over five feet tall. Ellen Datlow selected the story as an honorable mention to her best horror stories of the year. I thought I might offer you a free excerpt to get you to go and buy the book here, but first, here's what some folks said about Valiant Fang. 

"Ochse delivers an off-beat story with an unconventional character in Hollywood Villainy. His style moves the reader through the story with suspicion of every single character we meet. Has Marvel actually straightened out his life? Is Jimmy a pedophile or just a porn addict? And most importantly, is Valiant (who calls himself The Shadow) as heroic as The Shadow from the radio show? Weston doesn't let us know until and ending that makes us realize that Stephen King could not have penned this story better." - Geeking Cool
"Editor Lincoln Crisler has gathered 21 stories in this fine collection; tales which delve into the minds of beings who possess superhuman attributes. For some, the anomalies are an affliction, while others lose what remains of their fragile human side. It is that loss of humanity and humility that creates the utmost horror. “Hollywood Villainy” by Weston Ochse best exemplifies that horror. The author fashions an individual who is, indeed, absolutely corrupted by his powers. Mired forever in the body of his boyhood, the concocted aged entity revels in sadistic acts. Taking a page from Stephen King’s Carrie and other works concerning vengeance by abused misfits, Ochse superbly executes the deranged venom of his protagonist." - Hellnotes

""Hollywood Villainy" by Weston Ochse delivered a great take on mind-reading, as a Chinese kid hounds a couple of two-bit hoods in L.A. by getting in their heads and doing some Machiavellian-style manipulation." -- Wagging the Fox

“Hollywood Villainy” by Bram Stoker Award-winning author Weston Ochse, was my favorite in this block of stories and ultimately the entire collection. A fifteen year old Chinese boy born Valiant Fang (pretty cool, huh?) hasn’t aged a day since 1937 and now he tools around Hollywood on his old bicycle making a real mess of the world, destroying lives by utilizing his mind-reading powers. Valiant Fang, a.k.a. The Yellow Shadow, didn’t start out that way. In fact, when he discovered his mind-reading ability, he set out to be a hero like the ones all kids admire. Unfortunately, he “soon learned that no one liked a little Chinese kid superhero.” And that’s the hook to “Hollywood Villainy.” - Dreadful Tales 

Hollywood VillainyBy Weston Ochse ©2012

No one pays attention to the body.Instead they watch the antics of the paraplegic pimp and his one-legged midget hooker. He holds her by a leash attached to a spike dog collar around her neck as she hops around his wheelchair in a crazy cavorting dance. This is what they came to see. Not the stars on the Walk of Fame. Not the hand prints in the Chinese Theater. Not the gargantuan Hollywood sign that had once announced a suburb. But theater in the raw—the misfits and characters that make Hollywood the adult Disneyland promised them by every David Lynch and Tony Scott film. The pimp has enough studs poking from his face that he could have been a cyborg. A young girl points at them and says as much to her father. The midget hooker has had a boob job that makes her look ridiculous, even if she hadn’t been a half-pint, one-legged fuck machine. The detraction is sad, because the death of the man had been majestic to behold. And that his body lay square atop the Hollywood Star of Orson Welles was a grace note that I’d never thought to pull off. Still, people never look to the heart of things; instead, they grasp at any shiny object that happens by, no matter how shallow or meaningless it may be.+ ‘Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. The Shadow knows.’This is my mantra. This is what has fueled me through these years of too much, too young, forever. The notion of the shadow, of someone who can manipulate the minds of men to his own ends, is something that I enjoy. I say it. “Only the Shadow knows,” and follow it up with dramatic baritone laughter. But I am far from the figure of a tall handsome masked and cloaked avenger. In fact, no matter how many years pass I’ll never be tall, I’d never be old and I’ll never be handsome. Instead of portraying the Shadow like a masked and cloaked avenger, I have no choice but to present myself as I am—fifteen, Chinese-American, short, odd-shaped face covered in acne and glasses the movies referred to as RPGs, or Rape Prevention Glasses, because they were so ugly. Still, even though I was born Valiant Fang in 1922, I AM the Shadow and the Shadow always knows.“Watch it kid,” an older man growls as he tries to get by.
My 1949 Schwinn Phantom is positioned in the middle of the sidewalk. I’d parked on John Wayne’s star. It is as good a view as any. It also gives me a jumping off point. After all, in an entire world filled with people, how am I to go about selecting my targets? I let the stars guide me. Not those up in the sky, but the ones set in concrete as flat monuments to pop culture greatness.And then I see him.And he is perfect.Especially the pink straw cowboy hat—pink enough to make John Wayne roll over in his grave.Especially his connection to an old memory that I’d long thought forgotten. I begin the chase.
//END OF FREE EXCERPT//
Wanna read more? Then you have got to get the book where you can read my story and twenty others. Go here - Quickly! And don't stop if you see a Chinese kid on an old bike wearing RPGs. In fact, press the accelerator hard!

PARMESAN EGGPLANT FRIES - A Living Dangerously Recipe

PARMESAN EGGPLANT FRIESAuthor: Living DangerouslyDuration: 30 minutesAverage Cost: $3.00 USServes: 4-6 (or two who just can't stop eating)
Who doesn't love fries? I could eat an entire plate of them virtually every day. I remember when I was stationed in Afghanistan in 2013. Every Sunday night I'd have three baked chicken breasts and a heaping plate of fries. So nice. So good. So damned fattening.
But now I think I've discovered a way to eat them and get away with it. Yes! Baked Eggplant Fries. These are seriously good and taste just like they're fried.
I kid you not.
So, get out  your cutting board, baking sheet covered in foil and rack, and preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.
Here we go.
Peel medium eggplant. Starting on the longest edge, slice the peeled eggplant into 1/2-inch pieces. Lay the widest pieces, from the center, cut side down, and slice in half length-ways so all the pieces are equally about 1/2 by 1/2 by 4 inches in length.  Place the flour in a medium bowl and season with the salt and pepper. Place the egg whites in another bowl and beat until frothy, about 30 seconds. Combine the Parmesan and bread crumbs in a third bowl.

Coat the eggplant pieces in the seasoned flour and pat to remove any excess flour. Dip the floured eggplant in the egg whites and then into the Parmesan mixture, gently pressing the mixture into the eggplant. Place the breaded eggplant pieces on a rack on a baking sheet. This should really be done with a rack, so if you don't have one, consider getting one. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until golden brown. Toss in a bowl with a little garlic salt (or not) and serve. 
Cook's Note: The eggplant fries can be dipped in ketchup, marinara sauce, pesto, ranch dressing, vinaigrette, or really anything you want. We used curry ketchup, but next time I think I'll try a Dijon-lemon-mayo mixture.

Ingredients1 Medium Eggplant1/2 cup all-purpose flour (or gluten free substitute)1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper3 egg whites1 cup grated Parmesan1 cup seasoned bread crumbs (or gluten free substitute)