If you like your horror dark, what’s darker than outer space? Why, outer space with incomprehensible but definitely malign entities, of course!
The acclaimed Lovecraftian author Brett Talley (That Which Should Not Be) has brought his new story, “The Substance of Shadow,” to us creepy folk at Shoggoth.net, and we couldn’t be more
Caution: This post is about the realities of what a zombie apocalypse would entail, and how someone like me represents those realities in his fiction. This subject was inspired by a negative review of Reviva Las Vegas!, but it is only tangentially related to that review.
Both of my blog followers may recall that yesterday I came to the conclusion that a bad review—as well as some mitigating comments in some good reviews—of my new novel, Reviva Las Vegas!, may have been caused by the extremely dark view of mankind (not to mention zombiekind) in the face of a true zombie apocalypse.
Caution: This post is about the realities of what a zombie apocalypse would entail, and how someone like me represents those realities in his fiction. This subject was inspired by a negative review of Reviva Las Vegas!, but it is only tangentially related to that review. It will be in two parts, first Part One and then following that will be Part Two.
Gentle Reader, I have received my first really negative review. It was from another writer, and someone I respect, and it was shared in the most thoughtful and anonymous way possible. This reviewer is NOT a hater; please don’t harass him. It was mentioned briefly in his (very entertaining) roundup of CthulhuCon PDX:
Welcome to a new feature here on The World’s Greatest Blog In The World: “Lyrics Made Relatable.” I do this because, seriously, we don’t all live a posh, J.Lo / Diddy / Weird Al kind of lifestyle, and most of us can’t relate to post-apocalyptic or mushy love songs, neither. In the words of Benedict Cumberbatch, “Shall we begin?” And in the words of me, “Yes.”
I really love the song “Thirteen,” written by Dan Zig and first recorded by Johnny Cash. I like the Dan Zig-sung version even more, because Mr. Zig actually sounds like he’s this Mad Max-type badass with no soul and Mr. Cash sounds like he’s reading the lyrics off a piece of paper during a tent revival, the preacher who’s tasted evil but rejected it.
Friends, we here at Shoggoth.net mean to horrify you by any means and in any format or genre necessary. Below is our first stage play, a horrific fairy tale in verse written for ghoulish marionettes by master puppeteer Adam Bolivar. Let the atmosphere gloom you away …
JACK STRAW, a scarecrow
SOLOMON SCRATCH, a traveling salesman of sorts
MRS. STRAW, a goodwife
A MURDER OF CROWS
The Time: The Days of Yore
The Place: A gone but not forgotten cornfield
You may think you know where this story of undying love is going … but beware: you might be myth-ing something important.
The concert was going fine until Johnny Harlowe saw his dead girlfriend in the third row. He faltered, fingers skidding on guitar strings just as the rest of the band went into the instrumental bridge. If anybody noticed his lapse, he couldn’t tell. Didn’t care. He blinked, looked again.
She was gone.
If she’d ever even been there …