Cthulhu Attacks! gets a bloody thumbs-up from The Horror Fiction Review!

The unimpeachable taste of Christine Morgan strikes once again with her Horror Fiction Review take on Cthulhu Attacks! (I just want to say that the typos she mentions were definitely in the Advance Reading Copy she had, but are fixed now in the finished book.) Have a look and then buy a copy, or maybe two—the holidays are fast approaching!

CTHULHU ATTACKS! by Sean Hoade (2015 Severed Press / 220 pp / trade paperback & eBook)

Dear Hollywood: THIS is the Lovecraftian movie you need to make, the surefire big-budget blockbuster special effects extravaganza. This book, right here. It’s perfect. Gets around the various issues of directly adapting one of ol’ H.P.’s works, while acknowledging them in glorious triumphant homage. Plus, geek-cred galore.

And seriously, the scene describing Cthulhu’s emergence … best I’ve ever read. So beautifully done. Short, sweet, simple, evocative, and haunting.

A lot of giant monster or cosmic horror fiction struggles to express the sheer sheer size and scale and scope. Sean Hoade nails it, not only nails it but takes it several steps beyond. Reading this book is to shiver from an overwhelming sense of immensity, of alienness, of strange inhumanity so far outside our comprehension as to bend the mind. I think Lovecraft himself would be impressed with just how well that’s all conveyed.

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Cool ad for Reviva Las Vegas! airs TONIGHT at 9 EDT, 6 PDT!

How cool is this? An advertisement for my “zombies in Vegas” novel, Reviva Las Vegas!, airs tonight during the 417 Indie Radio show, the podcast of EVERYTHING INDIE!

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It’s an entertaining show to learn about everything that’s going on creatively under the radar of mainstream commercial media. It’s on at 9 ET / 8 CT / 7 MT / 6 PT, and The shows are free for their first week! After that, each one is cataloged and put on CD for sale. Release dates of the CD will be added when available.

But my commercial is worth gathering the kids and grandparents and Norman Rockwell dog and shit in front of your vacuum-tube computer gramophone!

LISTEN RIGHT AT THIS HERE LINK!

Happy Birthday, Mr. Lovecraft … now in ENGLISH!

This is really nicely written and celebrates HPL perfectly! Sorry about not having the translated version up earlier. As they say in Italy, “Oops!”

Originally posted on They Walk Among Us … in Italian.

Hello to all.

Before anything else I feel obliged to make a thank you and a premise.

In recent days I have had several visits and inscriptions, probably because I started to interact with other blogs (hail), something I had never done before. What can I say, thank you all for being passed and even more thanks to those who joined.

But someone pointed out to me as my blog is visually sparse, compared to others, too easy. That is, it is true. But realize that interests me write and share things with you, with my readers. I do not care to have a blog appealing to look at, first of all because I could not do it. They are not practical html, any of wordpress plugins. Second 99% of the time within which have the phone and I have many chances to make changes from there.
But I like it, simple and easy to see, without a thousand cazzatine that takes attention away from what they basically do here . Write.

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Your favorite writer makes The New Yorker!

In the latest issue of the chichi publication The New Yorker, from their article about NecronomiCon Providence, “Croissants With Cthulhu”:

“A writer from Las Vegas who listed Deadtown Abbey (‘Cthulhu does Edwardian England’) among his works”—hey, that’s me! (I’m very happy at the mention, but what about my book about, y’know, Cthulhu? Ah well, I’m still very pleased.)

Take a look for yourself!

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Murphy-Croissants-With-Cthulhu-690The Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast, at NecronomiCon Providence, is presided over by a hierophant and a deacon, mouthpieces for H. P. Lovecraft’s eldritch world view.

At the Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast, we were finishing our eggs. Two gray-bearded men, the hierophant and the deacon, sat at a dais. They were flanked by a black-cloaked choir. A hymn began; several more (“Yes, They’ll Take Our Brains to Yuggoth,” etc.) punctuated the morning. The hierophant, under his neon-yellow mitre and mask, was the Rev. Dr. Robert M. Price, theologian, professor of biblical criticism, and former fundamentalist Baptist. “Nug and Yeb, great dragons black and red, come prepare thy father’s table,” he intoned. Then he began to channel Cthulhu, who seemed lethargic. “I know what you’re thinking, folks,” he grumbled. “Why no apocalyptic catastrophe yet?”

Read more at The New Yorker!

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I’m on A-merican radio …

Hello, acolytes and assassins!

The trip to Providence was an unqualified success, and I will have an upcoming absolutely massive post with many, many pictures and links to the most eldritch writers, artists, and makers of things. But first, I had an excellent time being interviewed on the Darkness Dwells podcast. It’s at http://tinyurl.com/DDinterviewMP3, or just click the image below for the MP3 wonderfulness!

Next: NECRONOMICON PROVIDENCE WRAP-UP!

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♫ Fairy tales can come true … it can happen to you … ♫ IF YOU AVOID BUS PEOPLE GERMS

All right, folks, in about 2½ hours, Vegas legend Samantha Gemini will be picking me up to take me to the Greyhound bus station for TEH EPIC JOURNEY TO NECRONOMICON PROVIDENCE! Then it will be 3 solid days of travel, including changing buses at Philadelphia and New York City, two pastoral locales known mostly for their kindly folks and bus passengers being killed and sold for parts if they exit the station.

Organs of the bodyOrgan prices aren’t listed on the order form due to variations in freshness and possible stabbedness.

But I’m not scared of this. Well, not compared to my utter phobia about germs and people likely to carry and spread germs and not give a shit, even after taking one.

Yes, I’m talking about bus people. Not the hard-working day-to-day people just trying to exist in this go-go world. No, I mean long-haul bus people. I mean Greyhound bus people. They may all be fine individuals, but their collective infectious conditions shared over days in a metal tube with non-openable windows make them my mortal enemies.

You can’t change people—well, not without getting near them—so I have made it incumbent upon myself to overreact and create a little bubble of antiseptic bus space into which I can retreat and do my writing. If someone sits next to me on the bus, I plan to tell them that the seat is reserved for the Holy Ghost. Also my backpack, inside of which are the following:

Antibacterial stuff-wiping sheets

This is the real stuff, man, not for use on one’s skin. These kill 99.9% of germs, leaving the remaining 0.1% bitter and disheartened, vowing to come back as superbugs one day.

Clorox wipesOfficial slogan: “Just use me on stuff. I will eat right through your flesh.”

This will disinfect my bus seat, chair arms, window area, toilet seat, lavatory handles, flush button, computer, mouse, and whatever else could be “guggy” (as my 5-year-old daughter Ginger used to say, very accurately).

Antibacterial hand wipes

So that I don’t end up with skeletal hands leaving me unable to defend myself through the use of my $10 zapper thing I got on eBay, I also have a TON of antibacterial hand wipes. These will be useful for my “bathroom pack” (which shall be disgust discussed below), but also for a quick wipe that isn’t from my giant-yet-travel-size antibacterial hand wash bottle.

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ALL of these are coming with me in my backpack on the bus. This is not a joke.

So okay, you think, “Hey, maybe Hoade just likes to keep his hands clean. And also every object he might possibly come into contact with. It’s not like he’s getting neurotic or anything.”

Exactly! Would a neurotic person create a special “bus bathroom I don’t want your herpes” pack to take with him into the unholy recesses of the Greyhound john? Of course not! He especially wouldn’t do this and include:

  • His own toilet paper [since bus could have that zero-ply fairy-wing paper or NONE AT ALL]
  • Surface wipes, hand wipes, and extra paper to turn the scuzz handle to leave the mobile shittorium
  • And this, in a 24-pack, which I will be wearing all day and night on the bus and replacing each time I enter the Thunderpants FecesDome:

Surgical maskThis also not a joke. I will soon post selfies from the road showing the depth of my phobias of “those people” and their invisible friends. I shall be wearing these.

I hope this will be enough to keep me from getting sick. My previous cootie vaccination consisting of drawing a “circle, circle, dot, dot” in 2012 proved remarkably ineffective.

In two hours now, I shall be heading out! Peace to you all, and please, for the love of all that is holy, buy a copy of Cthulhu Attacks!

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Next time: On the bus!

 

 

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be (Atari Flashback Edition)

I just reread this blog entry from when I excitedly purchased the retro Atari 2600 gaming console with 92-93 (?) games from my childhood, which was then revealed to be the sham it always was.

Sean Hoade Brings You The World's Greatest Blog In The World

I have a shameful admission: I was born in 1969.

I premiered in February of that year, which means I was born before man walked on the moon. Before Watergate, before the Dolphins’ perfect season, before gasoline had ever cost more than 35 cents per gallon. Ice trays were made out of metal and had to have dividers put in them to make cubes. Harry S Truman, Elvis, Bobby Darin, and both Moe and Larry from The Three Stooges were still alive.

When I was born in 1969, the only “video game” was some sort of Ur-Pong played by two PhD candidates at MIT when they finished organizing their punch cards. (Kids, follow that link. It’s important for you to know about history, even the vile and shocking parts.) There was also Spacewar!, which was pretty cool, but not exactly Grand Theft Auto.

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Spacewar! is featured in this deleted scene from Reservoir…

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