The Coming of the Strangers

by John Lymington

The exploring party was felt and heard but not seen. Footprints on the sand ... furniture knocked over ... all these were heralds of their presence.

But these were only the forerunners. The ghostly appearances grew and spread, and then the deaths began. A full-scale invasion was in progress-from an enemy who could be behind you or by your side, but who never showed himself, even as a shadow.

Librarian's note: The edition with this cover has the ISBN 0-532-15322-8, which is invalid.

Genres: Horror, Science Fiction

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1961

About the author

John Lymington is a pseudonym for author John Newton Chance.

John Newton Chance was born in London in 1911 and educated at a private school there. He went to a Technical College with the intention of becoming a Civil Engineer, but left that to become a Quantity Surveyor. While surveying, he began to write for the BBC, and on his twenty-first birthday gave up all honest work to become a writer. The first novel was published in 1935, was hailed as a masterpiece and, like so many such, grossed more glory than gain. But it established the writer's career, which he has followed ever since with the exception of the four war years. When his war ended, he and his wife came to live in Hampshire where their first son was horn. Seventeen books later a second son arrived, and six books further on, the third came along. Among the books of the time there were a number for children, and the adult stories were published here, in America and on the Continent; some were filmed and a number broadcast.

source: his autobiography Yellow Belly

He would eventually write over 160 books under several names. Pseudonyms used by Chance throughout his career included:
John Drummond, John Lymington, David C. Newton, and Jonathan Chance. He was also one of the writers who used name the Desmond Reid which was one of the many personas responsible for the 'Sexton Blake' series that spanned decades.

Reviews

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you thought Guy N.Smith introduced the world to quiet sleepy seaside towns being menaced by giant killer crabs... well, you'd be dead wrong. John Lymington got there first over a decade earlier. John Lymington was one of a number of pseudonyms used by British author John Chance who wrote over 150 books in many genres from the 1930s until his death in the 80s. Amongst his output where 20+ pulpy sci-fi efforts, most of which I read in the 1970s when I was a gangly teen. In the wider sci-fi world none of his books made much of an impact bar one: Night of the Big Heat, which was made into a tv serial and a rather lurid movie. Coming of the Strangers was written a couple of years after Night of the Big Heat but used a lot of the same formula. Back to those giant killer crabs. Lymington's crazy imagination wouldn't be satisfied with mere giant killer crabs. Oh no. Lymington would only be happy with giant killer alien invisible crabs with psychic powers... and bank accounts. Even though I'm being glib that doesn't mean I haven't got good things to say about Lymington's work. This just isn't the best stuff he put out. Some of the first half is quite spooky and atmospheric and Lymington can't help laughing at his own work from time to time. Sometimes I think Lymington is writing these as tv, rather than novel scripts, that are deliberately devoid of action to save on the production costs. It's probably more likely he's just keying into some of his influences like Quatermass. He spends a lot of time building his characters up, before throwing them all together for some serious siege time, frayed tempers, arguments and punch ups, whether natural or under the crab 'fluence'. George A, Romero would be nodding his head approvingly I'm sure. I don't know why it took me so long to get this one read. I think it was lurking in one of my pulp paperback boxes and got stirred up out of the murky depths last time I moved house. Anyhow it scratched my latest flare up of nostalgia-itch. I had to manually add this one to Goodreads' database as it seems to have erased itself from history. Damn those psychic crabs.

[Steve Banes · Rating 4 out of 5]

A decent tale about a scary, invisible (and intelligent) menace invading a small seaside community. Most of the action takes place inside a house where a group of bickering people (and a cat) are trapped with the one guy on Earth who actually knows what's going on. It's a fun, quick read, with few interesting twists and turns, plus a Jonny Quest ending... but its nowhere near as intense or chilling as the excellent sci-fi horror mash-up of Lymington's "The Star Witches."

[Kaleb Roderick · Rating 3 out of 5]

Slow, cheap sci-fi that takes a whack at an interesting concept, but ultimately whiffs. There is no time to really get connected to any one character, jumping around between multiple omniscient perspectives that disjoints the story.

[Markus & Co · Rating 2 out of 5]

Den här boken är precis som manuskriptet till en riktigt dålig indieskräckfilm.

Om du älskar att läsa samma konflikt uppstå om och om igen av en grupp ytterst ointressanta människor inlåsta i ett strandhus som jag inte förstår mig på så är den här boken för dig!

Om du älskar att läsa om monster som halshugger en enda luffare på stranden och som telepatiskt talar till en karaktär som heter både John och Sebastian men dem kan aldrig välja vilket dem ska kalla honom så är den här boken för dig!

Om du älskar att konspirera kring stora rymdvarelser eller möjligtvis havskryp som du senare aldrig kommer få förklarat varför de valt att omringa huset samt varför de kan tala till John… Sebastian? Och varför de var typ 100 stycken men inte lyckades döda mer än två personer varav en var en kille i huset som sen ingen brydde sig om. Varför ens nämna att han dog? Om du älskar det? Läs den!

Men verkligen, jag uppskattar hur dålig plotten är och hur egentligen ganska dåligt den är skriven samt att det är OSYNLIGA ALIENRÄKOR SOM LYNCHAR MÄNNISLOR PÅ EN STRAND???! Ganska kul ändå.

Många frågor inga svar, och faktiskt, jag behöver inte heller svaren för ingen bryr sig om den här boken