LAST CALL FOR ALL YOU CONFESSORS!

If you follow the blog on a regular basis, (and if you don’t why the hell not?) you could not have failed to see the Confessions of my Past, Present and Future feature, where authors write a piece about what they like in books from their past, the present and the future.

If you have never seen it, then go have a look here to see what it is about.

This feature has run for over a year. It still proves to be very successful and you all seem to enjoy reading about what your favourite authors like in books.

So, I am going to keep it going. This is where you come in. I only have a few submissions left and would like more.

If you are an author and would like to take part in this feature, then please see the guidelines for it below and email me at confessionsofareviewer@gmail.com to let me know.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #50 - Mark Cassell

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Mark Cassell

The Past

I don't know when I first became aware of Brian Lumley's work, nor whether he indeed inspired me to become a horror writer. Atop that, I certainly cannot remember how old I was when I read his 1986 novel, Necroscope. Before I say anything more, I'll allow Mr Lumley to explain what a Necroscope actually is (pulled from his website www.brianlumley.com):

Tele- (Gk. tele: ‘far’.) A telescope is an optical instrument which enlarges images of distant objects. For example: the surface of the Moon may be viewed as from only a few hundred miles away.

Micro- (Gk. mikros: ‘small’) A microscope is an optical instrument which makes small objects visible to the human eye. Through a microscope, a drop of ‘clear’ water is seen to contain countless unsuspected micro-organisms.

Necro- (Gk. nekros: ‘a corpse’) A Necroscope is a human instrument which permits access to the minds of the dead. Harry Keogh is a Necroscope – he knows the thoughts of corpses in their graves.

The main difference between these instruments is this: the first two perform purely physical, one-way functions. They are incapable of changing anything. The Moon cannot look back through the telescope; the amoeba does not know it is under microscopic scrutiny.

That’s Harry Keogh’s big problem: his talent seems to work both ways. The dead know – and they won’t lie still for it!

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #49 - Dan Weatherer

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Dan Weatherer

The Past

There are probably rules for this sort of thing, but rules (like promises) are made to be broken. As a young, awkward sort, struggling to find his place in the high school hierarchy, books were a welcome retreat from a world I did not much understand, never mind wish to be a part of. (Likely I was a troubled youth!)

There were several books that not only afforded me my escape, a few of which have stuck long in the memory, and provoke a smile and a familiar tingle when recalled. I will not pretend that any of these books are literary heavyweights, but then I never did harbour notions of snobbery. A good story is just that, and these kept my imagination alive and kicking during those tediously grey teenage years.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #48 - Somer Canon

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Somer Canon

The Past

Most of my childhood books were old, tattered hand-me-downs given to me by my grandma. One of those books was the first book to really ignite the horror fiend within me. It wasn’t necessarily the story itself that scared me.  Even as a Kindergartner I was a hardened horror fan thanks to never being denied the opportunity to watch some great horror movies on television.

No, with The Night the Scarecrow Walked by Natalie Savage Carlson and Charles Robinson, it was the black, scratchy illustrations within, giving the book a moodiness that wouldn’t have been there otherwise.

When I was learning to read, I was able to dig up some gems in my small school’s library. The checkout cards to the Crestwood House Monster Series books were filled with only my name. The book about shark attacks mesmerized me as well, not only because of the photos of the survivors but also because of this incredible drawing of a shark chewing through an anti-shark net, shredding its gums to bloody ribbons.

HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A CONFESSOR? AN OPEN CALL!

If you follow the blog on a regular basis, (and if you don’t why the hell not?) you could not have failed to see the Confessions of my Past, Present and Future feature, where authors write a piece about what they like in books from their past, the present and the future.

If you have never seen it, then go have a look here to see what it is about.

This feature has run for over a year. It still proves to be very successful and you all seem to enjoy reading about what your favourite authors like in books.

So, I am going to keep it going. This is where you come in. I only have a few submissions left and would like more.

If you are an author and would like to take part in this feature, then please see the guidelines for it below and email me at confessionsofareviewer@gmail.com to let me know.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #47 - Dominic Stabile

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Dominic Stabile

The Past

As a kid, I read everything from biographies to random instalments of Hank the Cowdog. I didn’t go looking for any particular genre. If the cover was enticing, I’d read it. In middle school I discovered the Goosebumps books and that was my first literary foray into the world of horror. I specify “literary” because I had watched tons of horror movies.

My mom has always been a fan of the old horror flicks, especially Creature from the Black Lagoon. I was pretty much allowed to watch anything, as long as it was the edited for cable version: Night of the Living Dead, Fright Night, The Lost Boys, Silver Bullet. I was watching these movies while reading anything and everything. Inevitably, these parallel interests intersected, and I began to select books with covers that depicted monsters, haunted houses, and graveyards.

I remember standing in line at some bookstore, begging my mom for roughly ten minutes to buy me Knee Deep in the Dead by Dafydd ab Hugh, the first of four novelizations based on the Doom games. The edition I waved frantically in her face that day depicted the iconic image of a man in badass combat/space armor, firing a futuristic weapon into a parade of slavering demons, as they closed in on him. I still love those books shamelessly. And their combination of action and horror still influences my work today.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #46 - John McNee

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

John McNee

The Past

“October Country . . . that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-night’s stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain. . . .”

The above passage is from The October Country by Ray Bradbury. Odds are you may well have heard it before. But if you heard it any other way than read aloud by lamplight on a hill, somewhere in the wilds of Scotland, with the night wind howling just beyond the thin walls of your tent... you heard it wrong.

As a child, when my father took me camping, The October Country was the book he brought to read from. It's an interesting choice for children's bedtime reading. It's not Clive Barker or Richard Laymon, but nor is it Goosebumps. I can't imagine his intention was to lull me into a sound, peaceful sleep with its unnerving tales of skeleton-sucking surgeons, murderous infants and things in jars. I'm sure he was hoping to creep me out. What he may not have expected was that this would be the foundation of my ongoing obsession with horror stories.

The October Country is a beautiful book. Setting aside the actual content, the book itself – our edition, at least – was a hardback marvel, filled with extraordinary illustrations by Joseph Mugnaini (who also painted the cover) that I studied at least as much as the words. The stories themselves are expertly crafted and wildly varied, but a world away from standard monster fare.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #45 - J.G. Clay

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

J.G. Clay

The Testimony of Clay

Confession is a heavy word, isn’t it? It invokes police interviews, courtroom dramas and, for the religious amongst you, unburdening weekly sins to a virtual stranger through a wooden lattice. Well, you won’t be getting any of those shenanigans here, my friends. As per Mr Murray’s invite, we’re talking books; shiny new books, books battered by age and constant reading, books that haven’t even seen the light of day. So, enough preamble. Grab yourself a cup of tea, a glass of beer or a bottle of methylated spirits (if that’s your poison). We’re off on a little tour.

First stop, the Eighties, a decade replete with bright fashion, not so bright wallpaper and grim politics. It’s not one of my favourite decades. I remember it as a dismal foggy time, punctuated by football hooligans going absolutely mental on the terraces and streets, the skinheads of the British Movement and the National Front terrorising the UK immigrant population and the ‘yuppies’ being the proto-corporatists dickwads that they’d always been. Aside from a few bands doing the business, there were few saving graces to that decade, at least the first half of it anyway. Then I discovered a love that would stay with me for the rest of my days. Horror came gambolling into my life and the little bastard hasn’t left since. Here’s what happened:

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #44 - Calum Chambers

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Calum Chambers

The Past

From a young age I suffered from an undiagnosed form of narcolepsy; this would mean my days felt like I was walking through treacle as my brain attempted to shut down. Doing anything at school was a challenge, paying attention, a Herculean task. It was only when I got to go to bed that I would get a burst of energy which would mean I would struggle to get to sleep.

But, I have to look at the positives, it was during this time that I learnt to love horror. Now was the time I would sneak the spare TV into my room to watch shows like Stephen Volk’s amazing Ghostwatch. I became schooled in late night TV and as a teenage boy this didn’t mean flicking through channels for a bit of late night side boob. Instead I was drawn to horror. Mostly, I seemed to be drawn to B-Movie horror, Them, Basket Case, Piranha, Frogs, these were my night time treats. Occasionally at 3am BBC would put a re-run of M.R James’s Whistle and I'll Come to You. Those nights were the best.

When my Dad caught on and took back the spare TV I turned to books. I was always a reader; my Mum drilled it into me from a very young age that books are vital to a young mind. I had read things like Lord of the Rings and most of the Sherlock collection but these books (love them as I did) were the books that my parents owned, they weren’t my choice. Sure, I had other books; it wasn’t like I was left wanting. I owned the entire run of Goosebumps and Point Horror, I had picked up every Dick King-Smith book I could find, Roald Dahl overflowed from my shelves. But now, now I had a taste for adult Horror.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #43 - Matt Darst

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Matt Darst

There’s something very Wellsian about this “Confessions” format, the idea of going back in time to consider literary favorites, returning to the present to discuss current reads, and then jumping back in the time machine to travel to an imagined (and potentially post-apocalyptic?) future. And since H.G. Wells remains a favorite of mine, this confessional structure is especially fun. What a great opportunity to dig into the past for novels that have influenced me and share authors I love. Thanks for joining me on this journey. Caution: there may be Morlocks ahead!

ANNOUNCEMENT: MATT DARST WEEK NEXT WEEK!

So in the spirit of spoiling you lot of Confessionors (I just invented that new term for you all. Better than calling you all my children. That’s just weird) I am very proud to announce the next instalment of the Confession Weeks as they are now apparently known.

From Sunday 14^th of August Confessions will be hosting the Matt Darst week!

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #42 - Shaun Hupp

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Shaun Hupp

The Past

I think it’s safe to say that my past is a little different than other writers, because I’m a little different than most writers. I have Asperger’s Syndrome, which puts me on the Autism spectrum. This probably led to me being more of an introvert and spending a lot of time in my room. I didn’t have many friends growing up. I always wanted more, but at the same time, I felt fine being on my own.

But what exactly went on in that room? No… We’re not talking about my teenage years just yet. Filthy perverts. I usually could be found with my nose in a book such as the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark series or the Goosebumps series. I also had a great love for comic books. If people asked me if I preferred Marvel or DC, I didn’t really have an answer. I liked them all. I read Superman to Spider-man to Image’s Spawn. Much like Jack Rollins mentioned in his confession, I was drawn to character re-imaginings such as the Death of Superman/Reign of Supermen, Knightfall (Batman was replaced after having his back broken), The Spider-man Clone Saga, and Marvel’s 2099 future setting series. My favorite, however, were DC’s Elseworld series and Marvel’s What If series. They took established characters/plots and asked what would happen if they had gone differently. I always found myself thinking/plotting those same things so those books spoke to me.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #41 - Jeffery X Martin

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Jeffery X Martin

The Past

I tend to think a lot of writers my age, which is none of your business, were introduced to the horror genre through the works of Stephen King. My mother allowing me to read The Shining at an early age certainly helped set the path, but it wasn’t until I got my hot little hands on Night Shift that the horror bug really wrapped itself around my cerebral cortex and began to tighten.

King didn’t use high and lofty language. No “sepulchres by the sea” or “Cyclopean eldritch cities of madness and despair.” Sure, I like those things now, especially the madness and despair, but King spoke in words I could understand. When the Boogeyman came shambling out of the closet in King’s story, I got it, and I got it good. Nightmares followed that story, and a couple of the others. I was also touched by his more human than inhuman tales, like The Girl in the Barn, filled with evocative imagery and the wretched stink of regret. It was then I understood that horror was not just all boogedy-boogedy and cheap scares. It was a state of mind, a place in the heart, and to explore it thoroughly, one had to venture into the most frightening place of all: themselves.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #40 - Duncan P Bradshaw

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Duncan P Bradshaw

The Past

My brother and I were always encouraged to read when we were kids. My brother was an avid Mrs Pepperpot fan, amongst other things, and our parents had a suitably imposing bookcase which was built into the wall between living and dining rooms.

Personally though, I loved Roald Dahl, and any time he had anything out, I snapped it up. The stories are just perfect for kids. Over the top, funny, yet with a hint of disgustingness tucked away to put a smile on my freckly face. I loved all of them, but amongst my favourites were George’s Marvellous Medicine, which encouraged me and Stuart to scour the house whilst on summer holidays, concocting the foulest liquids known to man. Obviously, we didn’t drink it, but two boys, left to their own devices, are going to do stupid things.

Looking back, I’d have to say that The Twits is my all-time favourite Dahl title. The story is pretty by the numbers, but the characters are so wonderfully vile and repugnant. I think as well, that the illustrations by Quentin Blake, both on the cover, and inside, were as big a pull as the stories themselves.  They just fit the words so well, and helped to add to the feeling that you really were a part of the book.

Whilst I enjoyed many other books, the Truckers series by Terry Pratchett for instance, or Adrian Mole, the Dahl books will always hold a special place in my heart. When I decided to write books myself, I think the layout of illustrations mixed in with the words has rubbed off. A book is more than just words printed down onto paper. It should convey what the writer is trying to get across. Sometimes, little pictures, or different fonts, can help to get that message across.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #39 - Wayne Lemmons

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Wayne Lemmons

The Past

I was nineteen or twenty, living in a leased home in Northern Kentucky, and scraping by as a waiter at the local Steak ‘n’ Shake. Bothering people while they’re eating wasn’t the most lucrative of work for a young man such as I, but there were a few bucks in my pocket on any given day and I was comfortable with the situation.

The one luxury I allowed myself was reading. I wasn’t really a drinker and didn’t care for the other avenues for altering the mind, but books were always my version of fixing. From the moment I could sound out the words of your average Dick and Jane I was looking for the story behind everything. Writing was part of my passion, but that hadn’t become my addiction just yet.

The jones for a new set of paragraphs and chapters was wild in me that night as I walked through a supermarket with my roommate. I scrambled up and down aisles in search of that magic section that would allow my urge to be sated. Disappointment was in my future.

The shelves were full of Romance and Crime, scattered with magazines and old King novels that I’d already paged through dozens of times. The shakes were upon me, making the word-junky itch, as I scanned that rack of nothing. Finally, I settled on something with an oddly gruesome cover and title from an author I’d never heard of. As we left Kroger, I was holding a bag full of Blood Crazy by Simon Clark.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #38 - Paul Flewitt

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Paul Flewitt

The Past

Who here (if you’re from the UK, that is) remembers the Brittania Music and Video Club?

This was a scheme that would send out catalogues of records (remember those?) and videos that were recently released. One of my earliest and most vivid memories was leafing through that catalogue with my cousins. I couldn’t have been very old. The catalogue was split into sections; western, romance, horror… This was the 80’s and the horror section was one that I would return to, just to look at the pictures. One image that was branded onto my memory was that of a mean looking dude with nails driven into his head. That one image gave my little-boy nightmares, but it was an image that has stuck with me for a long time. Is it strange that I now view the Hellpriest as one of my best friends?

But … I’m getting ahead of myself here (as writers are often wont to do). The story really begins here…

Books and reading have always played a big part in my life from such a young age that I can barely remember a time in my life when I haven’t had a stack of books, waiting to be read.

My father, throughout my childhood was a hobby-writer, penning short stories and poems whenever the mood took him. He was an avid reader and had a large collection of books which I would routinely raid myself. It’s my dad that can probably take responsibility for my writing, because he would encourage me to imagine.

English was always my subject at school. I could read books beyond my years from a very young age and grasped the many vagaries of the English language with relative ease. Hardly surprising, given that there were times in my childhood when we didn’t own a TV and a games console was but a dream and fantasy for me. There were times when books were literally my only form of entertainment.

The first books I remember as receiving for my own were a box set of Beatrix Potter classics, bought by my parents for me. I have to say, they all provided literally minutes of entertainment before I’d read them all, but I return to them even now with my own children. I love the innocence of them and the quite obvious life-lessons they provide. My personal favourite; Squirrel Nutkin, I could read over and over… and have.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #37 - Delphine Quinn

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Delphine Quinn

The Past

Growing up wasn’t easy for me. This isn’t some story about how my parents didn’t love me or I suffered some horrible abuse. It’s more just a story of a girl who didn’t really like anyone, most of all herself. This made being a child fairly difficult, because most kids at age seven are worried about getting the new light up shoes and the Barbie they’ve had their eye on for Christmas, but I remember sitting up nights wondering why I was so unhappy, thinking about how someday my parents would die and I would be left alone, and ending up in a sobbing heap under the covers. So to say my childhood was strange would probably be an understatement. What saved me was literature. I don’t know many nine year olds who were in therapy after saying they wished they’d just die. But there it was. There I was. Trapped in a sorrow of my own creation.

Until one day, in fourth grade, I went into the library and decided I was going to check out the biggest book I could find, and immerse myself in it. The school library had a lot of books, especially for a poor public school. Something drew me to a shelf of books in the center of the room. I leaned down and saw a BIG book. I picked it up, sat down on the nasty, shit-brown carpet, and looked it over. Edgar Allan Poe’s complete works. On the cover, I remember a creepy ass bird.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #36 - Ty Arthur

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Ty Arthur

The Past

Exploring other worlds through the written word is a pastime I've been engaging in since my earliest memories. Besides my other passion – underground extreme metal – books that opened up portals to other lives easily kept me going through my middle and high school years. So much so that I got sent to the principal's office on more than one occasion for reading through particularly uninteresting classes.

Many of my favorite series had to be read during school hours or on the sly at home, as unfortunately we had a strict rule in my family against anything that would offend baby Jesus' delicate sensibilities (essentially meaning most fantasy, sci-fi, or horror). Rather than turning me off to the genres, the prohibition frankly that just increased their appeal, since they were all apparently so awesome they had to be banned.

Although there are plenty of horror novels that I managed to sneak a read through of at the library or by toting books to school away from prying eyes (The Hellbound Heart and Weaveworld immediately come to mind), fantasy definitely had a bigger impact on my formative years than horror when it comes to literature.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #35 - J.R. Park

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

J.R. Park

The Past

As a kid I read a lot, and throughout my life I was always obsessed with the dark, forbidden fruits that lurked in the horror section of the local library and book shops. The joy about books is there is no classification, so unlike the video shop, where I could only look at the covers and imagine the lurid delights within, I was able to fully explore the darkness in the written word.

By the time I was thirteen/fourteen, I was already reading Clive Barker, and began exploring other authors that frequented the shelves of the horror section. Shaun Hutson was a writer I’d seen mentioned a few times and so opening to the first page of Renegades, I was blown away by the sample paragraph at the front of the book. In graphic, gory detail it described someone being shot in the head. The detail was disgusting with lines like ‘confetti of brain and pulverised bone’. I needed to know more.

As I read the book, the early promise did not wane, and I was assaulted by an explosion of violence and sex. This was pushing my boundaries and I loved it. Put simply, the book rocked. It felt like the literary equivalent of a heavy metal song.

When I sat down to write my first book, Terror Byte, my memories of Renegades and its lasting impressions was the first thing I drew upon when describing the gore and sex scenes. I wanted that tone. That feeling like the book was slapping you in the face. I was so pleased when a few reviewers picked up on the Hutson-esque vibe. A great testament to the power of his writing, that it left such a mark on me for all those years.

GUEST POST: Confessions of my Past, Present and Future #34 - Feind Gottes

Confessions of my Past, Present and Future

by

Feind Gottes

The Past

One night many years ago my mother (she was probably drunk) let my father (he was definitely drunk) have some fun and voila, nine-ish months later out popped a legend! Oh, not that far into the past? My bad. You’re here about these little amazing things called books.

My love of reading came fairly early without me even knowing it because it started with comic books. I didn’t have many but I read them over and over again. On top of that my mother was (and still is) an avid reader of multiple genres so she was always reading something. She never once told me I should read this or that, she just set an example by always having a book in her hand. By the time I was seven or eight years old, I finally followed that example and read my first book, Little Arliss by Fred Gipson. It was basically a short story related to the classic Old Yeller but I remember feeling like I had accomplished something. My love of reading was born and I began devouring book after book.