Max Brooks’ third release in his Zombie Survival series is exciting, intriguing, and far, far too short. While his first two entries into the series–The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead, and World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War–were quick reads, they were at least long enough that one could invest some time into them. For me, TZSG was a lot more interesting than WWZ, which after awhile began to read like a dreaded high school history book. The new graphic novel has all of the wonderful elements of the first two: it has wry humor, it is somewhat culturally relevant, and it is above all fun. For the cover price of $17.00, however, it is lacking in substance. When I say substance, I am being literal. It needs more book. I read it cover to cover in 30 minutes.

Like many horror fanatics, I discovered the works of Howard Phillips Lovecraft at a young age and have since seen his influence in the works of Clive Barker, Laird Barron, Robert Bloch, Alan Moore, etc. Also, like many horror fans, I have always noticed that movies based on his works are godawful. There are of course the rare gems such as Re-Animator, and I will go out on a limb and say Dagon. Yes I know that Dagon the movie is much more “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” than it is “Dagon,” but it still stands out from the rest of the crap that are Lovecraft films. I have never really been able to figure out why Lovecraft films are so aweful. Possibly because they deal with unspeakable horrors and unnameable creatures. It seems like it would be quite the task to visually represent these subjective vagueries in any discernable fashion. Maybe it is because no real esteemed director has ever attempted one of his films, sorry Stuart Gordon. It is quite unfortunate, because I think that there is wonderful potential in stories such as At the Mountains of Madness, in any number of the “Cthulhu Mythos”, or maybe even in The Necronomicon itself.  Read more... (300 words, 1 image, estimated 1:12 mins reading time)

Everyone has that book or two or five that resonate with them more than anything else.  For me, the novel is a broad-sweeping, conspiracy theory, thriller by Theodore Roszak entitled Flicker.  Many of you may have come to know this title as the ill-fated Darren Aronofsky project.  It is considered one of the novels that are unfilmable, but then again so were Perfume and Naked Lunch.  One can very easily argue that these should not have been made either.  However, I don’t believe there is a director alive or dead that can handle the intricacies and the breadth of the book’s plot to do it justice in film.
Flicker is about art films; it’s about horror films; it’s about love; it’s about sex and lust; it’s about the perpetuation of the human race; it is about history; it’s about total annihilation; it’s about 600 pages long.  I will not argue that it is the most beautifully written novel I have ever read–that distinction probably lies with Lolita.  I will not argue that it is the most important novel I have ever read.  I will, however, argue that it is the most intriguing book I have ever read.  Roszak is best known for his books on sociology–having coined the term “counterculture.” For the horror fan, it serves as a sort of metafiction.  It shows the horror film world from the inside out, the outside in, every which way one could possibly look at the genre, Flicker allows all angles to become transparent, and that is only a small part of the novel.
It details what may very well be the largest conspiracy theory in history.  It weaves in pieces of Hollywood history–Orson Welles plays no small part in the plot.  Flicker provides solid, sexy intrigue from start almost to finish–the ending is absolutely perfect and totally original.  It is impossible to convey my true feelings for this work because I am guided solely by the overall feeling of intrigue and a general sense of well-being that I get when reading this book.  I have read it five times.  I will definitley read it five more.

This book is nowhere near new and is just one tiny novel in Campbell’s oeuvre; it is new to me. I am a Campbell fan, and this as quickly become my favorite of his works. It has a genuinely creepy feel to it. Sort of a mix betweenThe Wicker Man (1973) and some urban nightmare.  It manages to transition its setting from urban to rural and back with great fluidity and provides a really interesting plot.  I can’t say much in the realm of literary criticism about this novel.  However, the simple pleasure of reading Ancient Images makes it worth it to take a gander.
I have quite limited exposure to Campbell; I know that he is often referred to as the British Stephan King, but that is just a lazy attempt to categorize this prolific talent.  While I’m not trying to knock Mr. King – he has been a wonderful contributor to the growth in the popularity of horror – I personally find Campbell’s prose much more fluid.  I have also read his first novel, The Doll Who Ate His Mother, and I can say that his style is quite varied from book to book.  Though I realize that Ancient Images is old news having been published in 1989, but I feel that it is worth writing about in the hopes that this entry will turn some on to the novel and Campbell in general.

If you haven’t heard of Johnathan Barnes, don’t worry.  The Somnambulist is his debut novel, and a very auspicious debut it is.  The briefest summary is :The protagonists Edward Moon, a conjurer and detective, and his silent partner The Somnambulist, a milk-drinking giant who does not bleed when stabbed, are called to investigate a murder that may tie to the poetry and prophecies of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and the fate of London.
I would imagine that this summary is quite perplexing.  But once you are initiated–50 or so pages in–you are hooked.  It starts to become very apparent that you are a part of something very special–a knew author who is sure to leave his mark on the horror/sci fi/detective/fantasy world.  Barnes is able to take protagonists that I wouldn’t think that anybody can relate to and make you care for them outright.  Aside from being a great mystery novel, it offers up an awesome variety of idiosyncratic characters, most of which are too strange to be thought up by anyone else.  We are allowed a look into the fetishizing taking place in this fictitious London.  A veritable cornucopia of freakish fiends and misshapen strumpets, The Somnambulist is definitely worth the read for anyone who enjoys a good mystery, a freakshow, or being on the ground floor of a bright, up and coming novelist.