Book Review: Space Eldritch (anthology)

Space Eldritch
D.J. Butler, Michael R. Collings, Nathan Shumate, David J. West, Carter Reid, Brad R. Torgersen, Robert J. Defendi, and Howard Tayler
Cold Fusion Media
eBook, $5.99; paperback, $13.99
ISBN-13: 978-1481178310
248pp. 2012

I have always thought that H.P. Lovecraft’s nihilistic vision of the universe fits very well with science fiction. Why do Lovecraftian horrors and Things Man Was Not Meant To Know lurk only inside dank basements, dusty tombs, and forbidden tombs? Aren’t the depths of space, alien vistas, and the bleak frontiers of other worlds also fair game for the kinds of horrors imagined by Lovecraft and his many imitators? The authors collected in SPACE ELDRITCH certainly think so. In addition to a Foreword by Larry Correia discussing this unholy mixture of Lovecraft and space opera, SPACE ELDRITCH contains seven novelettes and novellas. The stories are:

“Arise Thou Niarlat From Thy Rest” by D.J. Butler
“Space Opera“ by Michael R. Collings
“The Menace Under Mars” by Nathan Shumate
“Gods in Darkness” by David J. West
“The Shadows of Titan” by Carter Reid and Brad R. Torgersen
“The Fury in the Void” by Robert J. Defendi
“Flight of the Runewright” by Howard Tayler

Some mild plot spoilers follow in my reflections on each of these tales:

D. J. Butler’s “Arise Thou Niarlat From Thy Rest”: Contains a nice mix of existential Lovecraftian threat in the depths of space, along with some two-fisted pulp action, linked by one of Lovecraft’s favorite tropes, that of consciousness projection/possession from the far distant past or future. The story worked well, though presented just a little too vaguely at times.

Michael R. Collings’ “Space Opera“: A classic tale of first contact between alien species, told from the perspective of the alien conqueror rather than a human. A great depiction of a truly alien mindset and physiology, as well as a setting obviously set after Lovecraft’s “stars are right.” Perhaps the most explicitly Lovecraftian of the stories in this collection, as well as the bleakest vision of the future. Well done.

These first two stories, I should note, are really the only pieces in the collection to explicitly reference direct Lovecraftian elements. The rest of the stories still work thematically as Lovecraftian tales, it’s just that in the stories that follow, Lovecraft’s philosophy and common tropes are implicit rather than explicit, but don’t let that turn you off some good stories.

Nathan Shumate’s “The Menace Under Mars”: A genuinely engaging story about a routine exploration mission on Mars gone horribly awry. Humans have begun to settle Mars and terraform it, but, well, they aren’t alone, and their terraforming efforts (nor surprisingly) have unpredictably bad effects. Lots of action and a real page turner.

David J. West’s “Gods in Darkness”: Set during the height of the Space Race, this shows what was really going on in space when American astronauts and Soviet cosmonauts encountered each other and (literally) battled it out in space. Reminds me of Charles Stross’ wonderful novelette “A Colder War” (available here: http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/stories/colderwar.htm ) – and could actually be set in that novelette’s universe – though “Gods in Darkness” lacks the creeping, unsettling doom of “A Colder War.” This is a straight-up, high stakes action-adventure story and it’s a good one.

“The Shadows of Titan” by Carter Reid and Brad R. Torgersen: Great adventure and exploration story set on, oddly enough, the moon Titan. The mission takes a dark turn when a structure is discovered there. Very reminiscent of some older adventure pulp science fiction stories, with a clever resolution.

“The Fury in the Void” by Robert J. Defendi: A fascinating tale of future war in space between two rival factions – seemingly descendants of the Greeks and the Russians – who use the remnants of advanced technologies they can no longer build or maintain and for whom religious orthodoxy is of paramount concern. It’s a great setting (and one I’d like to see more of) that was clearly inspired by the wargame settings of Warhammer 40K and Battletech. I’d have liked to be shown more of the villains’ origins and motivations, but enjoyed the story nevertheless.

“Flight of the Runewright” by Howard Tayler: Bleak story about the future use of what we would probably describe as occult means to travel faster-than-light across the depths of space. The story is told from the first-person present perspective featuring, obviously, a somewhat unreliable narrator who learns the truth of his situation along with the reader (I hesitate to say more for fear of ruining the story). I was pleasantly reminded of Stephen King’s story “The Jaunt” in some respects. Lots of fun.

All in all, this is an amazingly successful collection of stories to combine cinematic science fiction – the genre of “space opera” clearly applies in all cases – with Lovecraftian horror. As you know, it’s rare to pick up an anthology and genuinely enjoy each story it contains, but that was certainly the case here. Each of the authors knows their craft well and shows off their writing chops in SPACE ELDRITCH. The writing is uniformly better than most of the science fiction produced in the 1950s and ‘60s, but the stories themselves would not have been out of place in that era. There’s certainly room for additional related stories for most of these, so I am holding out hope for a SPACE ELDRITCH II. I also have to briefly mention that wonderful cover art by Carter Reid as well – isn’t it gorgeous? The cover contains just the right mix of creepiness, tentacles, eldritch runes, and over-the-top cinematic science fiction elements to complement the stories found here.

Unless you are true Lovecraftian purist who things that the Elder Gods should only be encountered by sanity-shaken antiquarians and librarians in the 1920s, I can virtually guarantee that you will enjoy some if not all of the stories collected here. These are all refreshing looks at familiar horror themes viewed through the new lens of space opera and science fiction. Highly recommended for those who like some horror with their science fiction – clearly two tastes that taste great together.

Review copyright © 2013 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: Writing Darkness by Michael R. Collings

Writing Darkness
Michael R. Collings
CreateSpace
Paperback $10.99, eBook $3.99
ISBN-13: 978-1479384044
186pp. 2012
Review by Andrew Byers

This is a book all writers, especially those who write horror fiction, should read. Its author, Michael R. Collings, is a retired professor of creative writing and literature at Pepperdine University. He’s a writer – of horror, mysteries, and science fiction, among other genres – and a literary scholar, but he also taught creative writing for decades. He knows what he’s talking about here. The rest of us would be well-served to listen to what he has to say about writing.

WRITING DARKNESS is a book in two (linked) parts: the first section is a series of Collings’ essays on horror as literature and genre. The essays are interesting and insightful reflections – sometimes self-reflections – from a man who has been reading horror fiction, writing about it critically as a literary scholar, and writing his own horror fiction for most of his life. Any serious fan of the genre would enjoy these useful and thought-provoking essays. As a fan and occasional author of horror fiction, I am already planning to revisit these essays as I continue to think about the genre. The second, and larger, section of the book is another set of essays on the building blocks of writing: things like word choice; the nitty gritty of grammar that many of us need a refresher course on; speech tags; sentence structure; and dialogue construction, among other topics. All the basics for writers, but it’s material that we all need to hear. These are the dos and don’ts that most of us learned at some point, but most of us have forgotten. And not to worry, Collings also tells us when it’s safe to ignore these rules for the betterment of our writing. Collings provides us the simple, clear, pragmatic foundations we need for constructing the prose needed to effectively tell our tales of horror.

If there’s a weakness present in WRITING DARKNESS, it’s just that I would have liked to read more of Collings’ essays on the horror genre and horror literature in general. Sure, the first half of WRITING DARKNESS covers this, but the essays included are sufficiently interesting and thought-provoking that I wanted much more. I can only hope that Collings will pen a second volume of his thoughts on the genre.

And one small aside: when I first picked up WRITING DARKNESS, the cover confused me. As you can see, it depicts a small boy crying, clearly terrified by something not shown in the image. A bit of an odd cover, I thought. Then I read the first essay in the collection. I’m not going to spoiler you on the origins of that cover, but I have to say that now I love the cover – it is an absolutely perfect choice for this collection.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that spending a few measly bucks on WRITING DARKNESS – if one reads and internalizes Collings’ guidance – is a better value than paying hundreds of dollars for an equivalent creative writing college course. Recommended for all writers reading this review.

Review copyright © 2013 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: Serpent’s Tooth by Michael R. Collings

SERPENT’S TOOTH is technically the second Victoria Sears/Lynn Hanson Mystery – the first is DEVIL’S PLAGUE, which is packaged with Gary Lovisi’s DRIVING HELL’S HIGHWAY in a double edition by Wildside Books – but it stands on its own as a fun, essentially cozy mystery novel. I should note that I haven’t yet read DEVIL’S PLAGUE, but I never felt lost while reading SERPENT’S TOOTH.

This is what I suppose must be described as a “cozy” mystery, since the violence mostly happens off-stage and the mystery is solved by two amateur detectives: Victoria Sears, a fiercely independent octogenarian, and Lynn Hanson, a younger women who is grieving the deaths of her husband and child. The story is set in Fox Creek, a quiet, remote mountain community where Lynn has moved to pick up the pieces of her life. In many ways, Victoria is the star of the novel, and provides a great deal of atmosphere and wisdom, but it’s told through the voice of Lynn.

Some mild plot spoilers follow, but I promise not to ruin the mystery for you!

A young man with a troubled past has recently returned to the area to live with his grandmother, while doing odd jobs and raising some hell. Early one morning he’s found badly beaten, dead, and accompanied by some drugs in his bedroom by Carver Ellis, another young man who seems the obvious suspect. (Ellis seems to have been involved in the first mystery of the series, possibly used as a scapegoat in a previous death.) Victoria and Lynn are asked to help clear Ellis’ name; to do that they have to figure out how and why the apparent murder victim died. Lynn functions mostly as Watson to Victoria’s Holmes, with Victoria clearly seeing from the outset that all is not as it first seems. They also struggle with the eternal dilemma of all amateur detectives: they have to convince the local cops that they should continue to remain involved in the investigation while they hunt for clues and interview suspects.

As with all of Michael R. Collings’ work, this is an outstanding piece of writing. The opening of SERPENT’S TOOTH is so engagingly written that I was pleasantly reminded of the start of THE GRAPES OF WRATH, one of my favorite novels. The characters are the intriguing, eccentrics readers of mysteries always hope for and setting is vibrant and has the distinctive feel of a “real place.” I found myself wanting to know more about all the characters, their histories, and their interactions and relationships as I read, which is always a good sign.

SERPENT’S TOOTH is a quick, light read, and I recommend it to fans of “cozy” mysteries. The personalities of the characters are fun and the rural, small-town setting is one that I haven’t seen in a lot of other cozies, so if you’re a fan of the genre I recommend it for that reason alone. I look forward to next Victoria Sears/Lynn Hanson Mystery, particularly because I’m curious how Lynn develops over time. She’s still mourning the loss of her husband and child and recovering from that tragedy, but I suspect that time and her new relationships in Fox Creek will help her move past that and develop further as a character.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: Shadow Valley by Michael R. Collings

If you’ve seen the film Deliverance or read James Dickey’s original book – and if you haven’t, you should – then you’re familiar with its classic premise: outsiders heading into a remote, sparsely-populated area that is about to get flooded and having a set of unexpectedly weird and perilous adventures. SHADOW VALLEY has the same basic premise – an outsider (in this case, a female bureaucrat rather than a group of white-water rafters) must enter the eponymous Shadow Valley to deal with the last few inhabitants before the valley is flooded as a reservoir – but veers off into an entirely different direction. Instead of an outdoor adventure with dire physical consequences, SHADOW VALLEY offers a low-key, atmospheric exploration into a family’s dark past.

Minor plot spoilers follow.

Lila Ellis is a bureaucratic functionary trying to collect the last handful of quit claim deeds for the few remaining inhabited properties in Shadow Valley before the entire valley is intentionally flooded for a public works project. Her job is mostly done, except for one last place: a rundown farmhouse where an enigmatic old lady lived, or lives. Lila needs to either get a signed form from the lady or verify that no one is still living there. And that’s going to require that Lila venture inside a house that turns out to be far more than it appears. In the process, Lila ends up getting far more involved in the home’s past residents lives than she had anticipated.

I don’t want to say much more than that about Lila’s encounters in the old Stevenson house. It’s a slow-to-build but nevertheless rewarding ghost story that is unveiled through Lila’s reading of a family journal. I hadn’t actually anticipated actual supernatural occurrences in SHADOW VALLEY for some reason, so I found myself a bit surprised when the supernatural stuff began. It wasn’t at all over-the-top, but it was just a tad jarring when the weird stuff that couldn’t be explained by normal – if mysterious – events showed up. Once I got in the groove though, everything fell into place and I could see where the plot was going. I must also compliment the novel on its superb final note, which brings things to a close very nicely (but no, I’m not going to ruin it by giving you any more specifics than that).

In some ways I was reminded of H. P. Lovecraft’s classic story “The Call of Cthulhu” as I read SHADOW VALLEY, as the two stories share some of their basic structure. In both, the protagonist is mostly reading about or otherwise discovering the heart of the action – strange events that occurred in the past as a result of other people’s actions, but because of their weight and importance to the protagonist still play a major role in the story’s present. There’s probably a fancy literary term for this sort of device, but I don’t know what that might be. It works in both stories, despite the fact that much of the “action” is revealed in long expository passages and has already occurred to other people, because of the richness of the storytelling. Collings does a terrific job of making the reader care about learning about the long, strange history of a family of eccentrics. Speaking of which, there were times that I’d have liked a family tree or other set of references for all the names that show up in the family history; I sometimes found myself just a little lost as I struggled to recall who was whose wife/daughter/etc.

I recommend SHADOW VALLEY as a good, creepy haunted house/ancient family with a weird history mystery/low-key horror novel. It starts off slowly, letting the tension build, and then the weirdness comes in with a bang. If you like slowly building tension and dread, you’re going to like this. And let’s face it: Michael R. Collings is the only author I know capable of making a mound of chocolate candy boxes, each with a single piece missing, creepy.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: A Verse to Horrors: An Abecedary of Monsters and the Monstrous by Michael R. Collings

I’ve always had a fondness for limericks. There: I’ve said it. I know they don’t get much respect, at least among people who are into poetry in a serious way, but I have always thought that limericks are a joy to read. Heck, I even had fun writing a few myself a long, long time ago. I’m also a big fan of horror stories and films, so this nice little collection of horror-themed limericks really appealed to me.

So what do you get in this collection, and what exactly is an abecedary anyway? It’s a collection of over 150 limericks, arranged alphabetically (hence the wonderful subtitle), along with a nice set of literary and film references (with complete citations) for each monster inspiring a limerick, and reproductions of some nice public domain art.

We begin with a short introduction – also in the form of limericks – that sets out to answer the question: why limericks? Here’s how it begins:

The LIMERICK’s a short bit of verse,
Elegant, witty, and terse;
At times it’s risqué
(But that’s a cliché),
At its best, it is slightly perverse.

From there we move on to the limericks themselves. Each is a tribute to some classic monster or genre trope with which most of us would be familiar. Here is one of my favorites (perhaps in part because I just saw the film on the big screen a couple months ago):

The BATES MOTEL isn’t spiffy—
Its bedrooms are stale and iffy;
Though it rents by the hour,
Each room does have a shower
That will get you full-dead in a jiffy.

Come on, if that doesn’t appeal to you, I don’t know what would! Collings shows himself to be a master wordsmith of the English language here. These are some really clever little pieces that I found thoroughly enjoyable. Given all the references to classic monsters of myth, film, and literature, I was surprised that Cthulhu didn’t get a limerick of his own. The Necronomicon plus several other critters from the Cthulhu Mythos – Dagon, Nyarlathotep, and Yog-Sothoth – did make appearances, but the ol’ Big Squid himself didn’t get his own limerick. I can sense troubling psychic vibrations beginning to emanate from 47°9′S 126°43′W….

In any case, this collection was lots of fun. I recommend this collection of light-hearted, horror-themed limericks to all fans of classic horror films and fiction who have a good sense of humor and like to have a little fun with a favorite genre.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: The Gummi Bear Omnibus by Ethan H. Collings, K.E.C. Santa Cruz, edited by Michael R. Collings

While I’m not an entirely dour and humorless sort of fellow, I rarely find myself reading humorous stories and novels. They just rarely appeal to me. But I must admit that the GUMMI BEAR OMNIBUS really appealed to me as a genuinely fun work of comedic science fiction. It’s a light-hearted, fun, quick read.

Most people enjoy those delightful little gummi bear candies – my personal favorites are the German Haribo gummis. I’ve been eating these things ever since I was a child. Most of us, I think it’s probably fair to say, think of them as a sweet (literally), innocent candies. But what if they weren’t? What if these things were sentient, alien creatures bent on dominating the galaxy and annihilating all rival species – like us – they encountered? It’s a pretty wacky idea that forms the essential premise of THE GUMMI BEAR OMNIBUS.

The main body of the omnibus consists of two lengthy poems: “Gummi Space Armada” by Ethan H. Collings and “Tales of the Gummi Bear Space Armada” by K.E.C. Santa Cruz. We also have two “commentaries” (humorous essays written in academic style) by “Bjørn Cummis” and “Bergetah Kuma.” I am probably on safe ground to say that these latter pieces were penned by the esteemed editor of the collection, Michael R. Collings. Both the poems and the essays brought a smile to my face as I read them. How can you go wrong with the idea that gummi bears are determined to ANNIHILATE their enemies (to include pretty much anything that’s not a gummi bear)? The essays at the end of the omnibus provide some gentle satire of typical academic prose and literary criticism, so as someone who reads a lot of scholarly articles, I found those to be a particularly nice touch.

I recommend this one wholeheartedly. It’s inexpensive, it’s a quick read, and it’s genuinely entertaining. If you have a zero tolerance policy for all forms of puns, or are even dourer than I am, then give it a pass, but otherwise, the GUMMI BEAR OMNIBUS should provide an enjoyable diversion. Now let’s just hope that the Gummi Bears’ Armada never locates earth….

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: The Slab by Michael R. Collings

I live in a house built in 1950. My wife and I bought the house from a young couple with a small child who were moving out of the area for work. I think they lived there for about five or six years, but I have no idea who lived in the house for the first fifty years of its existence. I have the stereotypical eccentric old busybody neighbor who has lived on the block since the house was built and so I’ve heard a few scattershot rumors over the years. I’ve heard a plumber built the house. I’ve heard that the unfinished attic was converted into the nice, finished two rooms that it is today by a teenage boy who wanted his own bedroom. My neighbor also told me that the kitchen and first-floor bathroom were remodeled – very well, I might add – by a man as a present for his wife while she was away for a few weeks. When she returned from her trip, she gave him a present as well: she told him that she was leaving him for the Native American lover she met while on travel.

None of us really has any idea what goes in our neighbors’ homes, or even in our friends’ and families’ homes when we aren’t around. We have a vague sense when people are home – we see lights, cars, people – we can see who takes care of their yard and who doesn’t appear to care, who gets a new car, or who leaves their trash cans at the curb too long. If we talk to our neighbors, we might know their names and occupations, and they might share some innocent gossip or news about other neighbors. If we’re especially close, we might occasionally have dinner over there or get a tour of their homes. But that’s different. Those visits are, we must admit, a kind of public performance. Those visits don’t really tell us much about the real family who lives there. What are their homes like when guests aren’t around, when it’s just them, their spouse, and their children? Is it the well-kempt, pleasant place it appears to be? Is the husband a tyrant in his own home? The wife a hectoring nag? The children ill-behaved, screaming menaces? And what was the last family like? What happened in the home a decade, two decades, or three ago? Anyone ever die in the house? A house like mine that’s sixty-two years old, well, it’s practically inevitable that someone died in there, or gave birth, or fell down the stairs, or beat their wife or kids, or suffered from an eventually fatal illness. But I really have no idea. I know that it’s a surprisingly well-maintained home, with no unpleasant surprises, and that means that most (all?) of the previous owners have cared enough to maintain it. But who were these people?

And that brings me to THE SLAB. It’s a novel about a house and, necessarily, about the people who built the house and the people who came to live in it over the years. Unlike my house, the house in THE SLAB has some unpleasant surprises for its inhabitants. It’s been home to a number of families, some young couples, some middle-aged, and some in their twilight years. It’s also a place that’s suffered more than its fair share of tragedies.

Some minor plot spoilers follow.

Buying a home is scary business. It’s a huge investment – probably the biggest ticket item most of us will ever purchase – and yet it almost has to be decided on a whim. Sure, you have some basic criteria for the house (rough location, number of bedrooms, if you’re willing to fix it up or not, etc.) but you’re essentially deciding on a home based on how you feel about the place after you’ve visited it a couple times. And then the real fun begins. You have to get someone to lend you the money to buy it unless you’re one of the rare few who can pay for a house with cash. You have to get the place inspected. Is it as nice as it seems? Are there hidden problems? Can you believe what the seller, or your buyer’s agent, or even the home inspector tells you? Most of those folks have major incentives to get you to buy the place no matter what. But what aren’t they telling you?

THE SLAB captures all those hopes and fears. In the case of the home in the novel, there’s a lot each new purchaser doesn’t know. It was constructed by a shady developer and things got violent right from the start. As time marched on, the place deteriorated. It was fixed up at times, and some of the problems were concealed from later purchasers. Some ugly people who did ugly things lived in the house. Not all of them, but enough to leave a, well, kind of a “residue” behind. This is an idea that has been explored at length by some other horror writers (I am think especially of Stephen King). It’s an attractive conceit: the emotions that we all experience don’t simply dissipate, they are absorbed, at least a little, by the places where they happen. The stronger the emotion, the more emotional residue they leave behind. And negative emotions – hate, fear, rage – leave behind very strong residues indeed. These things accumulate over the decades. They might even begin to influence, or attract, the same kinds of negative emotions and experiences. New residents of a home might find themselves unwittingly experiencing the same things past residents did. And in the case of 1066 Oleander Place, the home featured in THE SLAB, that’s not a good thing at all. I should also note that THE SLAB is set in Tamarind Valley, Michael R. Collings’ suburban Los Angeles setting for two other horror novels: THE HOUSE BEYOND THE HILL and STATIC! (clock on those links for my previous reviews). It’s not necessary to have read either of those works to enjoy THE SLAB fully, but knowing that there’s lots of other weirdness going on nearby adds a bit to the appeal of the novel.

THE SLAB is highly recommended. If you require non-stop gore and battles to the death between a plucky protagonist and an implacable and nigh-unbeatable creature from beyond the stars, then this is not the novel for you. But if you like slow-building and under-stated – but not at all boring – psychological horror, then you will enjoy THE SLAB immensely (and that under-stated elegance of the novel is why I have been vaguer than is typical for me about the specifics of the plot). This is a story about what most might think of as a mundane setting – just a simple tract house in a California suburb – and ordinary people. But it’s a story about what happens behind closed doors. And sometimes very bad things happen when we’re in the sanctity of our own homes. I liked this one a lot.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: The House Beyond the Hill by Michael R. Collings

As I mentioned in my previous review of Michael R. Collings’ STATIC!, I think that he’s a sadly under-rated horror novelist. THE HOUSE BEYOND THE HILL is another of his horror novels, this one, like STATIC!, also set in the prosaic L.A. suburb of Tamarind Valley. (There is also a third novel set in Tamarind Valley, THE SLAB, though I have not yet read it.)

Please note: some plot spoilers follow, though I promise not to wreck every twist and turn in the novel.

The novel begins with a rash of random highway shootings in the Los Angeles area. I had thought these would be the focus of the entire book, and that would have been just fine, but it rapidly becomes apparent that these shootings are merely a single manifestation of a much greater source of evil. A troop of Boy Scouts camping nearby is soon butchered in a horrific attack. Others in this bucolic suburb also begin to die in strange, gruesome ways and the community naturally becomes gripped with terror. The identity of the perpetrator(s) of these attacks is entirely unknown. The authorities are virtually powerless, and it falls to five unlikely heroes who realize that there is more to the killings than meets the eye – a young married couple, one of the surviving Boy Scouts who narrowly escaped death, and a pair of young Mormon missionaries – to save the day.

I found THE HOUSE BEYOND THE HILL to be in some ways reminiscent of a lower-key version of Stephen King’s IT. HOUSE bears some of the same themes as IT. In both novels, a great evil lurks in a town, spreading fear and death in its wake, while a small band of heroic – though physically fragile – characters discover what is going on and decide to brave the dangers in order to defeat the evil force. These protagonists have great mental and emotional fortitude, even though physically they are no match for the villain. Ultimately they must beard the lion in its own den and defeat the source of evil – an unclean spirit that preys on the fear of its victims – in ritualized fashion. The characters in HOUSE are all convincingly portrayed and their fears and uncertainties are palpable. The horrors and violence they face likewise well-drawn. I’d have liked to see the final ritual confrontation between the protagonists and the antagonist drawn out just a bit more, as their ultimate victory was just a little too pat for my liking.

I found HOUSE’s subtle use of the idea of spirit possession as the instrument for the evil force’s activities to be both effective and a nice twist on what could have been a by-the-numbers of a madman on the loose sort of story. That idea that there really is a monster out there, but it can mostly only take direct, physical action by possessing the bodies of your friends and loved ones is a horrific one that has always worked well for me. (Here, I’m reminded of the BLAIR WITCH and PARANORMAL ACTIVITIES films which use a similar idea.) I think the reason why the idea has such poignancy for me is that we can all imagine how horrifying it would be if we found ourselves no longer in control of our own bodies, or that we had committed violent, unspeakable acts – especially against our friends and loved ones – without even remembering.

I enjoyed THE HOUSE BEYOND THE HILL immensely and recommend it without reservation. As I noted, I wished that the final confrontation had been dragged out a bit, as I’d have liked to see some additional detail on the source of evil’s defeat. That does not in any way prevent full enjoyment of the novel. Maybe it’s just that I want to see these protagonists – and antagonist – return! Tamarind Valley might not be a place any of us would like to live, but it’s sure fun to visit (as a reader). Here’s hoping that Collings isn’t done with his Tamarind Valley sequence.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Upcoming Reviews

I have been woefully remiss in publishing new book reviews this year. Sadly, finishing up a dissertation while teaching college has a way of pushing everything aside. Not to worry, I should be finished up with the dissertation in a few months, so I can only hope that will mean more free time for reading and writing reviews. But I do have a number of reviews planned, including the following:

FICTION

Michael R. Collings:
The House Beyond the Hill
The Slab
Shadow Valley
Serpent’s Tooth (I may need to get my hands on Devil’s Plague first though.)
The Gummi Bear Omnibus

Ed Lynskey:
Ask the Dice

Robert Reginald:
The Paperback Show Murders (coupled with Gary Lovisi’s Murder of a Bookman)
The Cracks in the Aether
The Pachyderms’ Lament
The Fourth Elephant’s Egg

NON-FICTION

Generation Zombie: Essays on the Living Dead in Modern Culture, edited by Stephanie Boluk and Wylie Lenz

The Halloween Encyclopedia, Second Edition by Lisa Morton

Boots on the Ground: The Fight to Liberate Afghanistan from Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, 2001-2002 by Dick Camp

Before Sherlock Holmes: How Magazines and Newspapers Invented the Detective Story by Leroy Panek

They’re coming, guys, I promise!

Review: Static! by Michael R. Collings

I’m a fan of horror – H. P. Lovecraft’s work holds a special place in my heart, as does Stephen King’s work through the mid-1990s – though I don’t read enough of the fine horror novels and stories that have been produced in the last decade or so. I was familiar with Michael R. Collings’ science fiction work (see my previous reviews here and here), but I wasn’t sure what to expect when I read one of his horror novels. I was thus almost astonished to find out how much I enjoyed STATIC!, one of his horror novels.

Please note: some plot spoilers follow, though I don’t plan to wreck every twist and turn in the novel.

Nick Wheeler is a graduate student slaving away on his Ph.D. in English. Like all such poor, lost souls, he needs an inexpensive residence where he can spend his waking hours reading, writing, and grading papers. He ends up renting a cottage on the grounds of a larger home in an obscure suburb of Los Angels, Tamarind Valley, owned by an extremely eccentric old woman he only rarely even catches glimpses of. The lady dies and her great-nephew, Payne Gunnison, inherits the home. Nick and Payne become friends and they discover that the house Payne has inherited holds a number of mysteries. For an old lady who never seemed to leave the house, it contains an up-to-date videotape and DVD collection, plus every room is wired with state-of-the-art audio and video equipment. Some of the tapes contain shocking footage of graphic sex and violence. And gradually, Payne discovers that the house and its films seem to be changing his own personality, urging him to do things he otherwise would not….

There are points, especially in the first half (which I found marginally stronger than the second), where I’d almost have sworn I was reading a Stephen King novel. I mean that in the best possible way, as I’m a fan of King’s and think there are few better modern American storytellers. Had STATIC! replaced a few of the literary and film references (which were just a tad metatextual for my liking at times) with pop cultural references and been just a bit more profane, I think we’d have something very much like King’s work.

The novel’s beginning was particularly strong, and the character of Nick Wheeler was especially well-developed. I actually liked Nick quite a bit better than Payne and wished that Nick hadn’t become something of a secondary character in the final third of the book. (It probably helps that I am finishing my doctorate and am entirely sympathetic to Nick’s situation.) Indeed, if there could have been a way to write Payne out of the story entirely and have the events of the book befall Nick, I’d have been happier. But these are quibbles where I am essentially asking for a second piece of a pie I enjoyed.

There is strong element of sexual tension throughout, on multiple levels, though I don’t want to spoiler the work further by elaborating too much on what I mean by that, as it’s one of the more interesting elements of the novel. Frankly, I’d have liked to see that element played up more. There was certainly room to explore that dimension of the plot further.

Here is one lingering question I had about the story (and this will only make sense to you if you’ve already read the book, but I’ll note it here for those of you reading this who have): am I imagining things, or was it (strongly?) implied that The Greer was not really the old woman she seemed to be? Is it possible that her body had been inhabited by an old (gay?) scientist who had originally discovered the process for electronic transfer of consciousness? That would certainly explain some of the dark (same-sex) elements of sexuality in the story. I may be imagining things here, and this crazy idea may say more about me than any backstory intended by its author, so take this comment with a grain of salt.

This is a very, very minor quibble, but I’m not hog wild about the title. That exclamation point bothers me for some reason I can’t quite articulate, though if the title had just been STATIC, I don’t think that would have worked terribly well either, as that just reminds me of a second-rate Dean Koontz kind of title. I don’t have a constructive comment here, just that perhaps a different title could have helped the novel attract more attention.

It wasn’t until after I finished reading STATIC! that I realized that it is part of a loose sequence of horror novels set in the suburban (fictional) Tamarind Valley outside Los Angeles. I very much appreciate that Collings has set out to create his own unique horror setting, as so many others have (e.g., Lovecraft’s Arkham, Innsmouth, and Dunwich; King’s Derry, Castle Rock, Jerusalem’s Lot, etc.). Now that I know a little more about Tamarind Valley and its dark history – having just read another work set in Tamarind Valley – I wish those elements had been played up just a tad more.

I give this one a strong 4.5 stars out of five. The first half of the book is especially strong. Had there been a little more explanation of the backstory and perhaps an ending that offered a more ominous twist, or more of a hook for a follow-on, I’d have rated it a bit higher. Collings is a gifted storyteller, and I only regret that his work is not better known. The whole “I couldn’t put this book down” thing is a bit of a cliché, but STATIC! really captured my interest and I recommend it highly.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers