Thoughts on Catacomb by Andrew Laurance

I was drawn to this book firstly by the cover. Like so many horror novels from the eighties and early nineties, this one has . . . wait for it . . . an embossed skeleton. It's an eye-catching cover, so, after reading the back cover copy, I decided to give it a shot. The story is about a teenager who is a monk at a Spanish monastery who has the uncanny ability to communicate with the dead. At first he is startled by his special talent, but eventually he becomes quite comfortable with his bizarre communications and learns of things that could potentially damage organized religion as we know it.

Despite having a decent hook, this book is a bit slow to gain speed, but when it does, it cooks. I'm not a religious guy, and though I enjoyed The Exorcist, I tent to steer away from books that have a sizable religious element, so I was kind of surprised that I enjoyed the hell out of this one. There are some great sequences and twists as out young monk  leaves the monastery and really lives for the first time since he was just a little boy, only he is such a special individual that his life goes off the rails rather quickly. Some of the material seemed rushed, especially considering how easily he accepts what happens to him, particularly during the final third of the book. I also felt like some of the more powerful government and religious figures accepted his uncanny ability in ways that were almost implausible.

I rarely say that a book should be expanded upon, because I'm into lean and trim fiction, but this one feels like it could have been beefed up a bit to add some depth. Then again I might just be picking at it. I enjoyed the book, but I certainly don't see it making some kind of miraculous comeback (the edition I have was an early nineties reprint nearly ten years after being published initially in the UK under the title The Hiss). I will most certainly buy another from the author if I come across it. Aside from how quickly certain parts of the plot develop, it's an original story that doesn't rely on a path paved by the telekinetic kids, haunted houses, and haunted Indian burial grounds so many other authors of the time hacked to death.

That's it for now. Up next is either Stinger by Robert McCammon or Deadly Eyes (aka Rats) by James Herbert. See you then!

Thoughts on Paperbacks From Hell

The non fiction book of 2017 was Paperbacks From Hell by Grady Henrix, hands down. Not that I read a whole lot of non fiction in 2017. I just can't see something else that's better than a book about mass market paperback from the seventies until the crash in the nineties, loaded with colorful pictures of cover art, sublime and glorious. If nothing else, I imagine this book has and will continue to reinvigorate people's fondness for long lost paperbacks that have been relegated to used book stores, thrift shops, and library book sales. Some of them have been terribly mistreated, probably considered a slice of schlock that wasn't worth preservation. I have plenty that were used as door stops and bent and torn and probably thrown across a room a time or two (I can only imagine how previous owners treated some of the books in my collection). Covers taped on, spines so cracked you can hardly read the title much less the author's name. But the words are still there on the pages (if they're not falling out), and thus the story can be read, for better or worse. Some of those old books are great (Michael McDowell's The Elementals and T. M. Wright's Strange Seed are recent gems I've read), and others are utter trash (William W. Johnstone's The Devil's Kiss fits nicely in this category). Paperbacks From Hell covers it all, with brief summaries of certain titles, interesting factoids about certain authors, and even insight on some of the cover artists that brought us all those amazing creatures, skeletons, demons, evil children, native spirits, and devils that popped in embossed foil, holograms, and step-back art.

I savored this book slowly since getting it for Christmas. I didn't want to just blow through it. I lingered on the cover art, following paint brush strokes and skeleton faces, baby dollies and evil entities. The book is written with a nice dose of humor and sarcasm that could only come from someone who truly appreciates the subject matter. Hendrix has obviously read a great deal of the books (probably pored over them while writing the book and probably sick to death of embossed skeletons by the time he was finished). Putting a book like this one together is clearly a labor of love, and the insight on the titles that are summarized come from more than just reading the back cover copy.

My guess is that finding autobiographical info on the more obscure authors who graced paperback racks back in the seventies and eighties is pretty difficult. I could have done with more of that. I found the little biographical tidbits fascinating. I think there should be a companion book that focuses on some of the more prolific authors of the time, as well as the cover artists. A few authors and cover artists are highlighted, but there are plenty more, and I for one would be fascinated to learn more.

If you're a horror fan and you don't have this book, shame on you. You can purchase it HERE, and though there is an ebook available, do yourself a favor and pick up the physical version. It's full-color and well worth the investment.

That's all for now. Next up is Pete Kahle's The Specimen. I've already finished it, so those thoughts will be posted soon. 

Cheesy Horror Covers and an Interview with Evans Light

I recently wrote a guest blog post for SplatterpunkZine in which I discuss my love of cheesy horror book covers of the 80's and 90's, as well as interview author Evans Light, whose name is synonymous with said covers, considering that he is passionate about preserving those wonderful books (and yes, even the not so wonderful ones that came out of that particular horror boom, because some of those covers are truly magnificent!).

You can check out the article HERE.