From Iraq to Paris, to London, to Chicago: the Devil’s in the wires, and Hell’s about to follow.
Frankensten’s Prescription is now available on e-book from Tartarus Press, and you can buy it directly from them, or on Amazon. It’s listed at $3.99 over here and I assume an equivalent price in the UK (about £2.50…?). What you miss, of course, are the beautiful Tartarus production values – their books are glorious as objects, never mind what’s written in them. But if you have an e-reader, and a few bucks or quid to spare, take a look. You can find more details of the book itself by clicking on the side-bar here, visiting the Tartarus Press website (http://freepages.pavilion.net/tartarus/fprescription.htm) or simply chasing up some of the on-line reviews.
This is my second e-book in a couple of months (the story collection, News from Unknown Countries, is available on Amazon). Still new territory but, much as I love the feel of paper, I suspect it’s the way of the future – the equivalent of the paperback revolution of the ’50s and ’60s. It’s quick, cheap, portable, and can be bought wherever you can log in. Look, read, and most of all, enjoy.
Joel Lane died a couple of days ago. He was fifty. I never met him – and by all accounts, this is my loss – but I was always excited when I saw his stories in Black Static and elsewhere. Joel’s work was good, and utterly unique. Many of his tales were instant classics, yet even when a piece seemed slight, it left you with a sense that you had somehow failed the story, rather than the other way around; that you’d failed to find its core. Because the core was there, alright. The core was Joel himself, and his singular take on the world. His work was of a piece. It was “urban horror” in the sense that he took the landscapes of modern Britain and invested them with an anxiety and apprehension it was hard to shake off after reading. This was fiction of unease, its characters uneasy with themselves and with the world around. When the strange or supernatural intruded, as it usually did, it would seem to have come straight from the protagonist’s own psyche, a confrontation with his own repressed and damaged personality. In this, Joel epitomised the British “slipstream” movement, though his stories defied categorisation. As a result, perhaps, he failed to gain the wider readership he clearly deserved, though he was revered by his peers and twice won the British Fantasy Society Award. His death has been met with deep sadness by those who knew him, and those of us who only knew him through his writing are left poorer for his loss. RIP, Joel. And thanks.
Anyone with a Kindle or Kindle app for phone, iPad etc, and in need of a little entertainment? I have a new collection of stories available on Amazon: sf, horror, and generally assorted weirdness. As the blurb puts it,
Inter-dimensional explorers go in search of God, but discover something else has got there first… A hapless academic believes his colleagues are transforming into animals… A woman struggles to survive in a world succumbing to the influence of a hostile alien realm, only to find her protectors far more dangerous than the enemy… A small boy witnesses his uncle’s bizarre efforts to maintain his marriage…
Here is a selection of Tim Lees’s acclaimed short fiction, where everyday reality is just a step from the strange, the sinister, the marvellous… Here is news from the unknown countries of the human soul.
And, despite the blushes, I can’t resist adding this resounding tweet from TTA Press: Tim Lees is one of the greatest story writers on Earth. Please read this.