Supernatural Tales

Bwahahahahah! Welcome to my Catacombs of Fear! I've always wanted to say that. And what a cracking title for a collection of spooky tales. It sounds like one of those anthology films Amicus did in the early Seventies. Some old josser would be sitting on a bench in a churchyard, fumbling in his corduroys, and a succession of hapless twits would sit down next to him to have a smoke or do the Times' crossword, whereupon said mystic old geezer would take out a deck of Tarot cards and engage them in a spot of prognostication. Cue bucket of fake blood and much screaming.  But that's not what John L. Probert's new book is like. Well, I don't think so. It's a collection of tales with the linking theme of a cathedral; characters include: 'The beautiful girl whose looks are maintained by acts of violence... The crippled ballerina desperate for new legs... The television producer who discovers that murder improves his ratings...' Yes, sounds like the genuine articl...

This is fun, because I am frankly a bit sad. You tell the Book Seer the title and author of the last book you read, and he (really some kind o' fancy software) suggests other books you might like. Merry japestering, as I am wont to do, I typed in Ghost Stories of an Antiquary by M.R. James and got... Well, try it yourself. Slightly baffled by W.H. Hudson's The Purple Land . I've only come across one other reference to this book, and it's not a complimentary one. Hemingway rubbishes it in passing in The Sun Also Rises . 

Oddly enough, as I was setting out to Newcastle Central Station for a trip to London last Friday, I received the latest copy of One Eye Grey. Entitled 'The Last of the Chelsea Smilers', it consists of more macabre and downright weird tales of London. How much of a coincidence was that?!? Not much, really, but I'm easily impressed.  Anyway, it's a good collection. I read much of it on the train down and found myself enjoying stories that informed me what a preternaturally ghastly metropolis I had decided to spend a weekend in. The Chelsea Smilers of the title are particularly effective nasties in a story by OEG editor Chris Roberts. Like many of the beings in the stories they are the stuff of urban legend. Other highlights include Martine Jones' 'Erase Book', with its sinister electronic puzzling antics, and 'Walking on Water' by Benedict J. Jones. The latter has a good X-Files vibe.  But it's all good - the OEG gang continue to live up to the hig...

Sorry to fans of Peterborough's leading poet, Cardinal Cox, who sent me his latest effusion more than a week ago. It's not supernatural as such, but has a kind of steampunk Gothic vibe, you dig? It's entitled The Shaver Mysteries, an episode in counterculture/pulp fiction history I'd forgotten. If you'd like to know more about Shaver and his crazy notions, the BBC (of all institutions) has something here . (If Shaver were around now he'd probably accue the BBC of being under dero control.) If you'd like to know more about Cardinal Cox and his emanations, find out more here .  Here's a bit from the new collection: FREAK SHOW The freak show's fallen on hard times It's the carnival's disgrace Even the bearded lady has Taken to hiding her face The Siamese twins have been divorced Indian rubber man's lost his stretch Tattooe'd lady's disappeared Booth boxer's just a wretch The living skeleton's developed a taste For the richest...

... which I've been writing for ages, and I forgot to sort of mention it here. It started out as an H.G. Wells blog but then expanded to become a dustbin of all my bitterest prejudice and unchecked lunacy. Just saying. Anyway, I've added a link to my list. 

I recently took delivery of Simon Strantzas' new collection, Cold to the Touch . So far it's pretty darn good, though I'm not sure how I'm going to review it. Enigmatic stories that don't easily fit into any category (except for 'horror', which is a misnomer) aren't easy to write about. I suppose I could do some sort of puppet show... Or maybe semaphore signals? Oh well, the point is I'm wallowing in the misery of it all and enjoying the way Simon dishes out great dollops of misery and disaster to all and sundry characters. Even when somebody perfectly harmless has the good fortune to get laid it doesn't end well. Such is life. I suppose I could describe this as 'the new realism'. One interesting thing about almost all horror writing (and most other genre fiction) is how rarely authors experiment with prose style, structure etcetera. Future critics may remark on this conservatism and conclude that it provides a basic substratum of reassur...

Now this is just confusalatory. Somebody thinks a lighthouse is haunted. Good! Carry on. But wait - somebody now wants to put a statue of the ghost on the lighthouse so it will become a sort of tourist attraction. How offensive is this to the original, real ghost? It's like leaving a message on someone's answerphone saying: 'Well, Tracy, you were obviously too busy to come to the pub last night, so we've bought an inflatable replica of you with a built-in tape recorder that recites inanities about reality TV shows and lady complaints, so we need never be without your contribution to our social lives ever again.'  I really regret doing that. She never spoke to me again. But let's get back to the lighthouse... The lighthouse's owners, Talacre Beach Caravan Sales Ltd, have submitted an application to Flintshire County Council for permission to erect a "2m stainless steel human sculpture affixed to the external balcony and railing of Talacre Lighthouse...