Archive for Horror and Fantasy

| October 12, 2011
5 comments

Optimistic YA SF: Any Recommendations?

I’m about to embark upon a new type of project for me, a YA (Young Adult) science fiction novel aimed at readers in the sixth through ninth grades. This won’t be my first attempt. But I never finished the earlier effort I started back in 2005 (that got derailed by the death of my original agent, Dan Hooker, the lack of confidence his boss subsequently had in my ability to produce a viable YA book, and Hurricane Katrina, which redirected me to another huge project). I currently have one huge advantage I didn’t have back then, three huge advantages, actually: three sons who are all, in their own ways, very interested in books and stories. My oldest son, Levi, although in second grade, is on the cusp of plunging into middle grade fiction. He has been begging me for many months to write something that he can read. Thanks to him and his fascination with maps, I think I’ve stumbled upon a story I want to tell and that I think would be very appealing to a middle grade audience.

However, the YA field is one I’m mostly unfamiliar with. I haven’t read any YA fiction since my own boyhood, which was thirty-five years ago. A lot has changed in the world of YA science fiction and fantasy since the early 1970s. I’d like to become familiarized with some of the best of the contemporary books before starting my own, but I hardly know where to start.

I would love some recommendations, either from parents of middle school readers or from grown-up readers who just happen to love YA fiction (I know there are plenty of you out there). I’m particularly interested in YA science fiction and fantasy that projects a sense of optimism and hopefulness. Just glancing through the YA shelves at Barnes and Noble or the lost and lamented Borders, I saw an awful lot of downbeat fiction, books focusing on family breakdown, child abuse, bullying at school, inappropriate sexual relationships, and other social pathologies. I don’t begrudge YA writers the freedom to explore such issues, nor do I think young readers need to be shielded from such explorations. But it’s not the type of YA book I want to write, and, honestly, it’s not the type I would recommend with enthusiasm to Levi. And Levi is a voracious reader, so I’ll need an increasingly long list of books to steer him towards.

Any recommendations would be enormously appreciated. I know there are a number of classic, older works that would fall within the guidelines of what I’m looking for. But I’m particularly interested in hearing about YA science fiction and fantasy books written within the last decade that concentrate on sense of wonder and excitement about what the future may bring.

Thanks in advance!

Addendum: Right after posting this request for recommendations, I stumbled upon this article on the Locus Online site which recommends a good many science fiction and fantasy books for young readers, although most of the books are aimed at readers younger than middle school age. Are any of you familiar with any of the books on this list? Levi simply adores the Captain Underpants series (he’s read them so many times, I’ll soon have to buy him fresh copies, because he is loving them to pieces).

Category: Book Love, Horror and Fantasy, Science Fiction | Tags:
| August 31, 2011
2 comments

Sinead and Jules: the Emails!

Sinead: lookin' for LURVE...


Well, following my post of last Monday, when I attempted to make a Love Connection between Sinead O’Connor, currently on a self-professed “man hunt,” and my old buddy, Jules Duchon, the transatlantic emails flew fast and furious! Romances flare so hot and fast in this Internet Age; then burn out just as quickly. Looks like it turned out to be a case of, “close, but no cigar.” We all tried. Jules tried. Sinead tried. I tried. At least we all parted friends.

With the permission of the two parties most directly involved, I am publishing their email correspondence, in hopes that star-crossed lovers everywhere can take some solace and wisdom from the thoughts exchanged between Jules and Sinead.
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jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Hi, Sinead. This is Jules Duchon. Andy Fox’s friend. Andy gave me your email address and said I should write you. He showed me your list of requirements in a boyfriend. There was nothing there I couldn’t handle. Your pics are cute, by the way. Glad you aren’t bald anymore. Bald women give me the willies. So you like big “snuggly” guys, huh? They don’t come much bigger or snugglier than me. Oh, I have to admit (this is sort of embarrassing), I’m not really familiar with your music. I’m more of a traditional jazz guy than a pop music guy. But Andy played me one of your CDs, “Am I Not Your Girl?” The one that’s all jazz standards? It was really nice. I like it. You’ve got a great voice. If the rest of you is half as good as that voice, I think I’m in love.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I’m the kind of woman who is unfortunately terminally unsuitable for the role of wife or girlfriend. I am accursed. But I have begged God, that while he rightly banishes me from good men like yourself or Robert Downey Junior or Adam, could he salvage me a few from the section in-between guys like youse and guys like the one this week who because he is living with the mother of his children offered me ” a once off experience which will guarantee you years of masturbatory material and will involve you crying in pain and being humiliated in a corner” Yikes!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Well, y’know, at this point, I’m not really looking for something big-time serious, so I don’t think that’s a problem. See, my last girlfriend (actually, my “vampire mother,” if you want to get formal about it), Maureen, she kind of broke my heart. So I’m sort of looking to play the field before jumping in the deep end again, if you know what I mean.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I don’t want my not being suitable wife or girlfriend material to mean I never again get kissed so much that I have to go around the whole next day with fat lips on me, giggling like an idiot, mad from being rogered so hard all night and me voice ruined from screaming. I don’t want to never again have to wear a polo neck to hide love bites from my daughter so she won’t know I love sex. I don’t want to never be snuggled. Or told I’m gorgeous. Or have no reason to shave my legs. I don’t want to never bury my nose in a stubbly man’s face again. I want the end of my nose red raw from sniffing smelly men’s stubbly faces. I want my whole face and neck sore from stubbly men sniffing me!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I really like it when you talk about “love bites.” I’m REALLY into love bites. Also, I’m just fine with rubbing my stubble all over your neck and face. Kind of hard to avoid it, in my line of work. If you know what I mean.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Baby, I’m supposed to write a follow-up to last week’s plea for a man, not a yam, but I’m so inundated with offers that I’m holed-up (sorry) in Planet Of The Apes, the only beauty parlour which will take me, and even then only round the back door in the middle of the night, but then I like a bit of that now and then don’t I?

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Hey, great, I really like the Planet of the Apes movies, too. But only the original series, the ones from the 1970s. I thought the remake from a few years ago, the one with that Marky Mark guy, kind of sucked, big time. Don’t know about this latest one, Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Haven’t gotten out to see it yet. Maybe when it lands in the cheap theaters. Can’t say I remember a beauty parlor in any of the original movies. Oh, wait, didn’t Zira go to a beauty parlor in Los Angeles in Escape from the Planet of the Apes? I forgot about that. Sorry.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: But I need to finesse my requirements based upon this week’s responses to my plea. I want to ‘make lurve’. Sweet and filthy LURVE. With sweet and filthy men. If u don’t have both sweetness and filth don’t apply. I want ‘sweet lurve’ with music on. Say it again Sinead .. Like u really mean it this time.. I WANT TO BE LURVED STUPID BY SWEET FILTHY MEN WITH MUSIC ON. Ok? We clear? Ahem… Good. Now I wanna know what music you’d lurve me with.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I would LURVE to make LURVE to you with some good music on the stereo. You like New Orleans music? Do you get WWOZ radio on the Internet over there in Ireland? I’ve got this buddy, Porkchop Chambonne, who does a sort of traditional jazz thing mixed with some old school R&B. He’s really cool and a really great guy, too. Another local guy I really like is Mem Shannon. Although I’m not sure he’s local anymore; seems to spend a lot of time in Memphis. Lots of New Orleans musicians moved out to Austin or Atlanta after Katrina. Real bummer.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Im revising the language from ‘ humping’ to ‘lurve’ because humping became misleading. Am a bawdy thing alright on twitter etc, and a joker, but in fact secretly I’m quite a good girl. Just naughty enough. And I wanna be ‘lurved’

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I am totally into that LURVING thing, like I said. What kind of food do you like? You look like a nice, healthy, husky girl. Do you like New Orleans food? Jambalaya? Fried oyster po’ boys? I know some really great local joints around here.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I promise to behave like a lady unless you kiss me and then i can only promise i will melt and the ESB will have to shut the whole country off for the night and a day or so after.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Well, I sure can appreciate a lady. Not sure what the “ESB” is, though. Or how they would shut the whole country off. You’re in Ireland, right? So, is “ESB” “Electricity Sending Board?” “European Socialization Bureau?” Did I come close? I’m not always that good a guesser, and I’m not too familiar with European stuff. Maureen used to make cracks about my being a “spud head.”

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: Please will you try to make the ‘normal’ people understand that anyone even remotely connected to the music business are so because we are intellectually and emotionally unsuitable even for criminality. We are morons with 16 year old adolescent senses of humour, which are only made worse by attention being paid. We are as children whose unwanted behaviour should be ignored.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: I totally understand where you’re coming from. Maureen always used to rag on me for being “immature” and “unfocused.” Like she was my mother or something… well, I mean, she WAS my vampire mother, but that’s different. Anyway, like I said before, some of my best friends are musicians. And my sense of humor is kind of “adolescent,” too. We got that in common, I think.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: My father often said affectionately of me when I was a child ” you could bring her anywhere twice. Second time to apologise. Never a truer word was spoken and it’s what I want as my epitaph. I did once ask Alan Shatter to spank me. Years ago. Cuz he’s a ride. And no I don’t think it’s inappropriate to sexualise our politicians. I think it’s most appropriate we should. They should feel good going to work. If i was Alan or Enda today being discussed in such terms by a fine filly like myself I’d be very flattered. Of course Alan turned me down. As sensibly, did Adam Clayton (the only do-able one in the band). I wonder if he’d known I would have let him in the tradesman’s entrance would he have stopped to think about it for a millisecond.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Maybe things are different over here in America. I mean, the only American politician I remember getting sexualized was Bill Clinton back in the 1990s. Oh, well, yeah, then there was Senator David Vitter and his hookers. Still ended up voting for the guy, even after that whole D.C. Madam thing blew up in his face. Better the dog you know, I told myself. And then there was that Anthony Weiner guy, who emailed or twittered or something a picture of himself in his underwear to some underage girl. He was up in Brooklyn. Had to yank himself out of Congress. What a dumbass. So, well, maybe Ireland and the U.S. aren’t so different after all. You’ve given me something to think about.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I must say, my greatest amusement this week is that on this day last week I had 3 followers on twitter. since I mentioned anal sex I have almost 2000! The funniest question I was asked this week was ” arent you insane to talk about anal sex in public?” Answer? No! Rude? Yes. Bold? Yes. ” inappropriate? Arguable. But insane? Why THAT’S insane!

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: Uh, anal sex? You’re Catholic, right? I hope I don’t come across as some kind of a prude, but I’m really a “missionary position” kinda guy. I’m pretty traditional between the sheets. Oh, there have been times when I’ve strayed off the straight-and-narrow. There was this one time I was stuck in Baton Rouge, after Malice X burned down my house. I had nothing to eat, I mean, I couldn’t find any necks to put a bite on. So I stole some dog food and transformed into a wolf, just to get something into my stomach. Well, to make a long story short, while I was in my wolf form, I ended up humping this stray bitch that was in heat. Couldn’t help myself. Totally out of my control. So, yeah, I’ve done it “doggy style,” I guess. But that’s about as wild as I get.

sinead_iamwonderful@me.com: I want you to clarify for all who may be concerned that Sinead is in fact 99.999% vaginally oriented but has experienced the odd shall we say ‘bark up the wrong tree’ and immensely enjoyed it. Apart from that and an as yet un expressed desire to get royally rogered while wearing nothing but stilletos, by a man wearing a regular business suit which she could clime all over, and an intense enjoyment of light to not especially painful spanking, is as “kinky” as the girl gets.

jules_vampomatic@yahoo.com: You know Sinead, you sound like a really nice girl, and I sure appreciate your emailing me back and forth, but I’m thinking, maybe we aren’t too compatible after all. Maybe it’s my Catholic school upbringing (they were really, really STRICT back in the 1890s), but I just don’t think I’d be comfortable trying to meet your needs. Anyway, I checked out your blog, and I see you’re into Dave Chapelle, big time, and you dig black guys. I’ve got a good friend who’s black. Actually, two good friends who are black, if you also count Porkchop Chambonne, but I think Porkchop is too old for you, maybe. And he might be on the traditional side, too, like me, when it comes to pleasing a woman. Anyway, this other guy I want to mention, his name is Preston, and he’s a vampire, like me. But he’s black. And he grew up in the 1960s, not the 1890s, so he’s like, more liberal than I am when it comes to the sort of stuff you were talking about. Nice guy. I don’t think he looks much like Dave Chapelle, but maybe if you squint real hard…? He’s not a bad looker, not really. Anyway, I took the liberty of passing along your email address. So maybe you’ll be hearing from him. Good luck finding that special guy you’re looking for. Been nice emailing with you. Do another jazz record, okay? That would be great.
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If you’re of a mind to, follow the rest of Sinead’s epic quest for a man on her personal blog. Like Jules, I wish this outspoken and very talented lady all the luck!

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags: , ,
| August 30, 2011
Comments Off on Sinead and Jules: Is It a Match?

Sinead and Jules: Is It a Match?

Sinead O'Connor, hungry for a big red-hot hunk of room-temperature man

Breaking News! An update to my post of August 9, 2011, “Wild-Ass Rumor of the Day: Is Sinead O’Connor Angling for a Role in ‘Fat White Vampire Blues?’”

I think we have a Love Connection in the making, my loyal readers. This is Big. This is Historic. I honestly believe that Sinead and my dear friend, Jules Duchon, can be the Cathy and Heathcliff of the new millennium. Or at least the stars of a new hit reality show.

On August 20, 2011, Sinead wrote the following post on her website, entitled “Sinead on a Manhunt:”

“20.08.11 IS SINEAD ABOUT TO HUMP HER TRUCK?

“The man who runs my site will protectively suggest I may want to visit the bathroom for a few intimate moments and a subsequent cold shower before deciding to post this on the site but I will of course ignore him as it’s too late now and the her-moans are having the best of me.

“I recently read of a woman in America who married and regularly humps her truck. I don’t yet own a truck but I’m beginning to understand her head space. And am worried I too may be so desperate for sex that within days I might run up the road and hump Bray Cab’s whole fleet in one hour. Forty quid clear-up afterward. Can’t say fairer than that. Except maybe a photo for their web-site. Which would be fine.

“My shit-uation sexually/affectionately speaking is so dire that inanimate objects are starting to look good as are inappropriate and/or unavailable men and/or inappropriate and/or unavailable fruits and vegetables. I tell you yams are looking like the winners. I actually do know a woman who is a performance artist from America. I have a photo of her being escorted arm in arm by two uk police man onto a plane back home cuz she humped a yam in the middle of her show. I just know that’s going to happen to me if I don’t take drastic action.

“Needless to say what I do for a living makes it hard for me to find men that only want me cuz they like my (legendary) arse. Yet I am in the peak of my sexual prime and way too lovely to be living like a nun. and it’s VERY depressing.

“So I’ve been pondering on whether or not I should join some Irish dating agencies. Of course if I did it would end up in papers so I may as well save myself the registration fees. Besides which a friend of mine uses dating agencies and half the men actually have wives.

Sinead, you and Jules could make beautiful music together...

“Am in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man.

“He must be no younger than 44.

“Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog.

“Must not be named Brian or Nigel.

“Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous.

“Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply.

“Leather trouser- wearing gardai, fire-men, rugby players, and Robert Downey-Junior will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies.

“I like me a hairy man so buffed and/or waxed need not apply.

“No hair gel.

“No hair dryer use.

“No hair dye

“Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me.

“No after shave.

“Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam.

“Must be wham-bam.

“Has to like his mother.

“Has to like his ex and or mother/s of his children.

“Has to live in own place.

“I must end now as I have a hot date with a banana

“Applicants can apply through my secretary at vampyahslayah@yahoo.com”

Sinead, I am honestly sorry to hear that such a talented, interesting, and attractive woman as yourself is in such a state of needfulness. Although I’m not a talented, interesting, and attractive woman myself, I’ve been there, believe me. I know where you’re coming from. Thank God, I’m married now; otherwise, I might try to pass myself off as your ideal beau. Actually, you and my wife could be sisters. If you were Russian-Jewish instead of Irish. And if you’d had a nose job. Dara has a gorgeous voice, too! She used to sing in our synagogue choir. Maybe you’d consider hiring her as a backup singer for your next album? But enough about me. This all about you. You and Jules. Let’s take a look at your list of requirements. I really do think my friend Jules stacks up quite well in terms of what you’re looking for. Here are those requirements again, with my notations in brackets:

Am in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man. [Jules is nothing if not sex-starved; please read the first half of Fat White Vampire Blues. And his friend Rory “Doodlebug” Duchon, who knows what a woman wants, considers Jules to be very sweet.]

He must be no younger than 44. [Jules is well over 100 years old.]

Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog. [Lives in New Orleans, but is of Irish ancestry–is this good enough?]

Must not be named Brian or Nigel. [Check.]

Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous. [Thinks Maureen is gorgeous. She is a four hundred pound stripper. Might find you a bit on the skinny side, but he is a man broad in his tastes. Don’t think you have much to worry about in this department, Sinead. Really, I’d let you know if there were any concerns.]

Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply. [Drives his own cab. Self-employed in a virtually recession-proof business!]

Leather trouser- wearing gardai, fire-men, rugby players, and Robert Downey-Junior will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies. [Not sure whether leather pants are available off the rack in Jules’s size, but I’m sure there’s a leather shop in the Quarter where he could have them custom made.]

I like me a hairy man so buffed and/or waxed need not apply. [Check.]

No hair gel. [Check. Hair gel is too “Bela Lugosi” for Jules.]

No hair dryer use. [The dude wouldn’t know what a hair dryer is.]

No hair dye [He’s happy to go silver. Looks distinguished on a vampire.]

Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me. [Jules is not known for the consistency of his shaving habits.]

No after shave. [See above.]

Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam. [Jules is extremely snuggly, all 450 pounds of him.]
Must be wham-bam. [How can you not be “wham-bam” when you’re Jules’s size?]

Has to like his mother. [Jules basically worshipped his mother. Had a portrait of her over his mantlepiece.]

Has to like his ex and or mother/s of his children. [Jules risked permanent death to avenge the destruction of his ex-significant other, Maureen, by a very, very mean vampire.]

Has to live in own place. [Had his own house, inherited from his mother, but it was burned down by Malice X. However, basically inherited the French Quarter home of Maureen, his ex-significant other, after he lost his own house.]

Not only that, but, like yourself, Jules is a partially lapsed Catholic with a very strong emotional tie to the Church. As you probably know, religious compatibility is a key to a successful long-term relationship.

And hey, check out that email address that you list: vampyahslayah@yahoo.com !!! Vampire Slayer?? Could anything be more obvious? This isn’t merely a woman who wants to star in Fat White Vampire Blues… this is a woman who yearns for the intimate touch of the fat white vampire himself. Don’t be coy, Sinead!

Sinead, I am not a licensed matchmaker, but I have passed along your contact information and your list of requirements to Jules. Please expect to receive an email soon (but after sundown, Central Daylight Savings Time, of course).

Update: Dear readers, I have the emails to share with you. Warning: may not be suitable for viewing at work!

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags: , ,
| August 19, 2011
2 comments

Friday Fun Links: Goofy Vampires


As a blogger, I’m all about adding value. If you’ve sought out this site, curated by the author of Fat White Vampire Blues, there’s a good likelihood you have a rarified taste for… goofy vampires.

Want a Vampire Nixon mask for Halloween or your next office party?

Want a Vampire Elvis tattoo?

Could this be conceptual art for an updated, political version of Scream, Blacula, Scream?

A deconstruction of the TV tropes present in Santo Contra La Mujeres Vampiros (a.k.a. Samson vs. the Vampire Women)

A heartwarming story: the son of El Santo protects his famous father’s virtue by denying that the heroic wrestler had anything to do with the naked women scenes added to the “lost film” El Santo y el Vampiro y el Sexo

A pair of never-to-be-forgotten 1960 titles from Italian cinema: The Vampire and the Ballerina and The Playgirls and the Vampire

Could this be David Niven’s most embarrassing film role ever?

Something never seen in any other vampire film ever (and probably never to be repeated): a vampire bat with a tiny woman’s head attached

How about a vanity project by disco-era starlet Nai Bonet, Nocturna, Granddaughter of Dracula, costarring Yvonne DeCarlo and a nearly dead John Carradine?

What are the chances that one film could boast both Harry Nilsson as the son of Dracula and Ringo Starr as Merlin the Magician?

The worst portrayal ever of Dracula in the comics — and now you can read all of issue #4!

This post would be woefully incomplete without a link to Werewolf vs. the Vampire Woman, a.k.a. La Noche de Walpurgis

And let us close with… Jews for Vampire Jesus

Category: Friday Fun Links, Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags:
| August 18, 2011
8 comments

Novel-to-Film: Xeroxed or “Inspired By”?

I watched Peter Sellers’ Being There last night for the first time in many, many years. Thoroughly enjoyed it. I saw that the source novel’s author, Jerzy Kosinski, co-wrote the script. I must admit that I haven’t read the book. But watching the film gave me many of the pleasures of reading a finely textured novel, and I came away with the impression that the film probably hewed very closely to the book. Peter Sellers’ performance is extraordinary; given minimal dialogue, he invites the viewer to understand Chauncy Gardiner/Chance the gardener almost entirely through his facial expressions and body language, much the same way Chaplin did fifty and sixty years earlier. The book’s setting in New York was changed in the film to Washington, DC, which I can only think was an improvement, given the liveliness and visual humor of those scenes where Chance emerges for the first time ever from his benefactor’s Washington mansion in a rundown neighborhood not far from the White House and the Capitol Building. I’m very curious now to read the novel and see what other changes were made, if any, and how significant those changes were.

As a pre-teen I read Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain right after seeing the 1971 film version on TV. I was struck by how faithful the film version was to the novel, virtually scene for scene, dialogue line for dialogue line. The only major difference between book and film was the gender of Dr. Leavitt (Peter Leavitt in the book, Ruth Leavitt in the film). The screenwriter, Nelson Gidding, specialized in bringing literary adaptations to both the big and small screens. I was very interested to learn that he also wrote the screenplay for the 1963 film version of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, The Haunting, which I recall also hewed extremely closely to its source material (unlike the rather baleful 1999 remake, which relied far too heavily on CGI effects and not nearly enough on suggestion). Apparently Gidding was a screenwriter who believed that fidelity between source novel and script served a film the best. Given my reactions to The Andromeda Strain and The Haunting, very different films yet both (to me) greatly satisfying cinematic experiences, I’d say he was right — concerning these two projects, at least.

One of my favorite horror/science fiction novels, Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend, has been filmed three times: as The Last Man on Earth (1964) with Vincent Price, The Omega Man (1971) with Charleton Heston, and most recently as I Am Legend (2007) with Will Smith. I haven’t seen the latest version, although I’ve viewed the first two multiple times (The Omega Man regularly scared me silly as a kid when it showed up on network television). Of the three, only the earliest, The Last Man on Earth, was faithful to Matheson’s vision of a virus from outer space killing the great majority of humanity and transforming virtually all the survivors into vampires. Cinematically, however, it is the weakest of the three, having by far the lowest budget and being somewhat hamstrung by Vincent Price’s limp portrayal of protagonist Robert Neville (I’ve read that Will Smith’s performance as Neville was the best thing about I Am Legend, and I’m a big fan of Charleton Heston’s stiff-chinned, bitterly sarcastic, Ford convertible-driving character in The Omega Man). Given the vampire craze of the past quarter century, it really surprises me that no one has attempted a faithful adaptation of Matheson’s scientific updating of the vampire legend since 1964. None of the three films brought to the screen the psychologically devastating twist ending of the novel, when Neville realizes that, in this world of a completely changed humanity, he is the monster, not the beings who have been trying to rid themselves of him.

Another Will Smith genre film, the extremely loose adaptation of Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot, seemed to have little in common with Asimov’s series of linked stories other than a title. Much of the thumbs-down reaction from the SF community was based on the filmmakers’ seeming disregard for their (much beloved and revered) source material. In fact, the screenplay, first entitled Hardwired, originally had no connection with Asimov’s works at all. But when 20th Century Fox acquired the rights from Disney, the new producers dictated the title change and that Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics and some of his character names from the I, Robot stories be shoehorned into the script. Would the picture have been a better film had it been a more faithful adaptation? For a contrafactual look at what might have been, see Harlan Ellison’s screenplay for I, Robot, originally written for Warner Brothers with Asimov’s support.

At the other end of the fidelity scale, Zack Snyder’s 2009 adaptation of Alan Moore’s classic graphic novel Watchmen may have suffered from being too faithful to its source material, at least during its first three quarters. (Some fans of the graphic novel castigated the filmmakers for changing key elements of the novel’s ending; I think the filmmakers made the right choice, as the novel’s climax, featuring a gigantic, dead B.E.M. in midtown Manhattan, could have come across as inappropriately comical on the big screen.) Having read the graphic novel four or five times, I could see, watching the film, how Snyder had utilized artist Dave Gibbons’ page-by-page panels as a storyboard for nearly the entire movie. For the opening scenes involving the murder of the Comedian, this worked very well. For other, more character-focused scenes (the entire romance between the second Silk Spectre and the second Nite Owl), it hardly worked at all. Scenes evocatively and precisely drawn on the page by Gibbons simply did not transfer well to their on-screen miming by Patrick Wilson and Malin Akerman. Had the screenwriters been free to break loose from Moore’s graphic novel dialogue and Gibbons’ scene setting, maybe they could have conjured a more convincing emotional spark between Silk Spectre and Nite Owl. Or maybe not. Maybe Wilson and Akerman just lacked chemistry, and no scriptwriter, no matter how talented, could have given them dialogue that would have allowed them to click. Another contrafactual…

An example of a genre novel adaptation which I think was made a good deal better than it otherwise would have been by being unfaithful to its source material? I would suggest the 1968 version of Planet of the Apes, which was loosely based, of course, on Pierre Boulle’s 1963 novel Monkey Planet. I suspect any attempt to accurately reflect Boulle’s novel on film utilizing 1968 filmmaking tech would have been dead on the screen. Rod Serling made all the right choices in his script, which resulted in a film that has had a powerful impact on the public consciousness and left us with several unforgetable images (the end shot of the Statue of Liberty, in particular).

Jump into this, won’t you? Which films based on novels (or graphic novels) do you feel would have been improved by hewing more closely to their source material? Or which were damaged by the filmmakers’ attempts to be overly faithful to the written word? Comments are open!

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Miscellaneous Musings, Science Fiction | Tags: ,
| August 16, 2011
Comments Off on Never Trust a Weatherman

Never Trust a Weatherman

Weather.com, you’re on my Double-Secret-Probation List (and maybe that other list, too).

Now and then you find yourself planning an entire weekend around a weather report. This was the first weekend of the Prince William County Fair, Virginia’s biggest fair, a Major Event in our household. We do not miss the fair. Sunday was Half-Price Day, when both fair admissions and ride bracelets were half the normal price. When you’ve got three little boys who are all crazy for carnival rides, half-price ride bracelets are a big deal, particularly when even the puniest kiddy ride on the midway will cost you three bucks per ride, per kid, if you purchase ride tickets. So I knew we would be attending the fair on Sunday. I also knew that the long-range forecast called for thunderstorms. But I thought we might be able to finess the weather, get the boys’ rides over and done with between rainstorms, then concentrate on the fair’s indoor activities.

As soon as I woke up on Sunday, I checked weather.com. On our two prior visits to the fair, we had gone in the late afternoon and evening, to avoid the hottest, sunniest part of the day. But weather.com told me to reverse my usual plan. The hourly forecast for our zip code predicted a high of 81F (not at all bad for Virginia in mid-August), overcast skies early, and then 70%-80% chances of rain from 3 PM on. The fair’s gates would open at noon. I figured I could gorge the boys on rides for three hours, and then, at the first sign of rain, the family and I could duck into the animal husbandry displays and pet the goats and sheep and cows under a good, solid roof.

So, we headed off the to the fair sans hats and sunscreen. What did we need hats and sunscreen for if it was going to be cloudy and rainy all day?

We rushed through breakfast to arrive at the fair soon after the gates opened. It was muggy. It was bright. It was hot, a good ten degrees hotter than the forecast predicted. Still, since we got there relatively early, the fair wasn’t crowded, at least not at first. The boys went on the Chinese Dragon mini rollercoaster and the Flying Swings/Raging Funnel and the Flying Dumbos (I’m sure Disney doesn’t let hinky-dinky carnival operators call it that, but that’s what I call it) and bumped their noses against the glass panels inside the Monkey Maze. They rode the Crazy Bus together, crammed into a miniature school bus with twenty other riders while huge pistons hurled the bus through the air. The older two went on the Parasail Rider (kind of like the Flying Swings, but with a sail-like panel which riders can swivel to make them bobble up and down while swinging around). I took my littlest, Judah, on a couple of those kiddy motorcycle/ATV merry-go-rounds and let him jump in a bounce house. His big disappointment was that the one ride he’d been talking about all week, Quadzilla, where he could ride a four-wheeler on tracks through a spook house, was temporarily closed for repairs.

Dara and I stood out of the direct glare as much as possible and waited anxiously for the few dark clouds spotting the sky to cover up the sun and provide us some relief. I watched the crowds linger in front of the games of chance and thought about Ray Bradbury, whose first story collection had been called Dark Carnival, who had written one of the greatest dark fantasies set on a midway, Something Wicked This Way Comes, whose childhood imagination had been fired by visits to fairs probably much like this one.

for laffs under the blazing sun, it's hard to beat a guy with a weather balloon stuck on his head

After two and a half hours of putting the kids on rides and taking (costly) beverage breaks, we decided to catch one of the 3 PM shows. A few more darkish clouds dotted the sky, but it still didn’t look like the thunderstorms the forecast had called for were anywhere near. We headed over to The Magic of Agriculture: Agri-Cadabra show, which we had seen earlier versions of the prior two years. The managers of the Prince William County Fair must like this guy, and he does put on a good show (even if his jokes disparaging West Virginia get a little stale after you’ve heard them a time or two). His grand finale is inflating a giant green weather balloon with a leaf blower, then inserting most of his body into the balloon, where he creates an elaborate balloon animal before emerging from his rubber cocoon. What can I say? It might not be Ray Bradbury’s idea of a proper show for a carnival midway (I think he prefers his magicians a bit more traditional and somber), but for me, it never gets old. My kids invariably get a charge out of it, perhaps akin to the charge the young Ray received from the fingertip of Mr. Electro, his earliest mentor in the ways of the fantastic.

Unfortunately, I had trouble concentrating on the show because I felt myself cooking. My wife reached over to touch my dark brown hair. “Touch your hair,” she said. “You could fry an egg on your hair. Mine, too.” Yup. She was right. My fingers came away smoking. And it wasn’t a magic trick.

unlike me, Black Locust had sense enough to stay out of the sun

Immediately after the Agri-Cadabra show, I herded my crew under the livestock barns, then went to refill our cup of $6 lemonade with water from the bathroom (there was still a little sugar and a couple of squeezed-out lemons at the bottom of the cup, so the tap water acquired a vaguely lemonadey tinge). I peered again at the sky. Where was this rain I had been promised? Where were the clouds to mask that brutal sun? We petted the goats. I made friends with a goat named Black Locust. I tried to figure out the reason for her name. She was black, yes, but not remotely insectoid. Perhaps she’d acquired that name due to her eating habits? I looked over at Dara. She was hors de combat. No more sun for her. But the boys were still clamoring to go on more rides.

I decided to take the bullet. I volunteered to lead the Midway Death March. Dara would remain behind with the goats in the shade. The boys hustled back to the Monkey Maze. I pressed myself as close to the wall of the ride as I could, clinging to whatever shadow was available. We ran into one of Asher’s friends, Maggie, and her grandmother. The kids all wanted to go on different rides. The lines had gotten much longer. The sun remained fierce overhead. Maggie’s grandmother and I decided to divide and conquer. We split the little group. Her half headed off to the Giant Ferris Wheel. Lucky her; the line was in the shade, and the gondolas had canopies. I got to stand in line for the Flying Swings. No shade there.

My older two boys went on the bumper cars. Judah had a mini-meltdown when he learned he wasn’t tall enough to ride. I yanked him over to the side of the bumper car pavillion, where the unused cars were stored, where there was a smidgeon of shadow to stand in. I pressed my index finger onto the skin of my forearm. The impression remained ominously white for a few seconds. I recognized what I had to look forward to that evening–squirming uncomfortably in bed while my skin reminded me incessantly what an idiot I had been. The boys wanted to ride the bumper cars again. I lacked the energy to deal with a renewed Judah meltdown. I told the boys they could pick one final ride before we went to pick up their mommy at the goat barn, but it had to be one they could all ride.

We saw that Quadzilla had been reopened. Judah began jumping up and down and flapping his hands. We got in line. The line didn’t move. The operator seemed to be taking forever to get the children out of the cars and seat more kids in their places. I shouldn’t get too angry with the man for not hustling with greater alacrity under that brutal sun; in conversations with other carnival employees, I learned they are housed in trailers, are paid an average of $300 a week, and have to buy all their own meals at the fair, which leaves them about $15 per week to spare. They do this from February to November, taking only a six-week break around the holidays to return to wherever their permanent homes are. So the man moved like a camel beneath the desert sun, conserving his energy and his internal moisture. If I were in his place, I suppose I would, too.

I felt my epidermis about to ignite. I yanked the boys out of the line. “No Quadzilla!” I thundered, substituting for the overhead thunder which had never made its appearance. “Maybe next year. Pick something else! Something with no line!” I shoved them toward a lame-o kiddy ride that none of the other fairgoers evinced an interest in. They dutifully boarded it, then rode it with blank faces. I could see they were all done in, too.

I marched them back toward the goat barn. On the way, we passed a row of standing wooden cutout figures, the kind that have oval holes cut where their faces are, the kind that invite you to put your own face in the oval and have a picture taken of you as a farmer or a fireman or a race car driver. One of the cutouts was of King Kong holding Fay Wray; you could opt to be either the gorilla or the maiden. All of the cutout figures stood unutilized when we passed. No one was taking pictures beneath the broiling sun.

I stared at those holes where faces should be, those voids, and I thought about Ray Bradbury again. Grandpa Ray, Master of the Dark Carnival, who had finagled ways to see King Kong in the theaters dozens of times as a kid. Ray had always been around for me; I’d watched his Beast from Twenty Thousand Fathoms and It Came From Outer Space at least as many times on Creature Features as a kid as he’d seen King Kong, and his A Medicine for Melancholy had been one of the first science fiction books I’d personally owned. My novel The Good Humor Man, or, Calorie 3501 owes an inestimable debt to Ray’s Fahrenheit 451. He had always been around, and he seemed to go on forever, as though he would live forever, just like Mr. Electro had commanded him when Ray had been a boy–“Now go and live forever!” But he wouldn’t live forever. One day, I would live in a world without a Ray Bradbury. It would be like staring at those cutout figures with oval holes where faces should be.

the Master of the Dark Carnival won't be with us forever

I made myself a promise. Next year, when the Prince William County Fair comes around again, we won’t go beneath the blazing midday sun. We’ll go at twilight, the time Ray Bradbury tells us is the perfect time to walk within the neon glow of the midway’s dark lights.

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life | Tags: , ,
| August 9, 2011
Comments Off on Wild-Ass Rumor of the Day: Sinead O’Connor Angling for Role in “Fat White Vampire” Movie

Wild-Ass Rumor of the Day: Sinead O’Connor Angling for Role in “Fat White Vampire” Movie

In the wild jungles of the entertainment industry, it is often virtually impossible to separate truth from fiction, accurate prognostication from rumor, baseless speculation, or bald propaganda. However, as the caretaker for the at least somewhat beloved “Fat White Vampire” stable of characters, I feel it is my duty to share with you, the readers and fans, any nugget of potentially precious information which may indicate that you will soon have the pleasure of witnessing your literary favorites up on the big, BIG screen.

Projects can languish in development hell for years and years. However, when a star of the first rank puts his or her imprimatur on a property, touches that property with the magic finger of approval, the property, like Victor Frankenstein’s monster after its infusion of electricity, shudders to life.

nymphlike Sinead O'Connor in 1990


“Who?” you ask. Which major star has expressed interest in portraying a major character from Fat White Vampire Blues? Why, none other than Sinead O’Connor, Irish pop singing phenomenon from the 1990s. I understand she quite desperately wants to portray the role of Maureen. To convince backers she can fill the shoes of this weighty role, she has put herself on a strict dietary regimen patterned after that pioneered by Robert De Niro in his Academy Award-winning classic, Raging Bull.

Sinead O'Connor today, ready for her big role as Maureen


I happen to think her new look is quite fetching. Her wholesale adoption of the Goth persona is very endearing and should appeal to the fans of the “Fat White Vampire” books. Of course, she’ll need to ditch that prominent Celtic cross when she goes before the cameras. But that is a minor detail, one which pales in comparison with the thespian dedication she has shown in pursuing her physical makeover.

Authors rarely have any say in the casting of films made from their novels. But I wish to express a hearty “two thumbs-up!” for Sinead as Maureen. I’m looking forward to seeing it.
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Update: From Sinead’s own blog, a description of the kind of man she’s looking for… and he sounds just like a certain JULES DUCHON… Yes, the similarities between Sinead’s ideal beau and our very own Jules are too striking to be denied…

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags: ,
| August 1, 2011
Comments Off on House of Vintage Laptop Madness

House of Vintage Laptop Madness

GRiD Compass 1101; first laptop in space


Bear with me, gentle readers. We’re on the downslope of Vintage Laptop Computer Madness Week here at Fantastical Andrew Fox.com. Today’s installment is the heart of the story. The rubber meets the road. I dive into my obsession head first, without checking the depth of the water. My collectivitis metastasizes into a full-blown case. I single-handedly boost the stock valuation of eBay (okay, just kidding about that). I justify my out-of-control bidding and buying by planning to write a book on the hobby of collecting vintage laptops. I secretly plan to corner the market. I believe my own bullshit. I blow wads of cash. I begin filling up my house with laptops.

Watch out, James Frey! You wanna talk about A Million Little Pieces? How about A Million Little Laptops? Oprah, here I come… if you weren’t off the air..

Installment four of “Lust for a Laptop, or the Madness of the Obsessive Collector” can be found here.

Category: Big Easy, Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life, Stuff I Like, Vintage Tech and Other Toys | Tags: ,
| July 29, 2011
Comments Off on Again, Vintage Laptop Madness

Again, Vintage Laptop Madness

1989 ad for the magnificent Poqet PC, touting advantages over its rivals

We’ve reached the midpoint of Vintage Laptop Computer Madness Week here at Fantastical Andrew Fox.com. Today’s installment zeroes in on one of my greatest acquisitions ever, the fabulous Poqet PC. This was the tiny machine with the wonderful keyboard on which I would compose first drafts of Fat White Vampire Blues, Bride of the Fat White Vampire, and The Good Humor Man, or, Calorie 3501.

This installment has lots of juicy stuff in it, for those of you with a special appreciation for the inside dope; I tell some stories on myself here. I get divorced. I get depressed. I get on an antidepressant. I start dating again. I begin writing Fat White Vampire Blues. My cute Poqet PC helps me score with a French Canadian doctoral student. I rewrite her dissertation in linguistics. She dumps me. I buy my first house. I get what seems like a great idea… that leads me into a whole heap of trouble down the line…

You can find installment three of “Lust for a Laptop, or the Madness of the Compulsive Collector” here.

Category: Big Easy, Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life, Stuff I Like, Vintage Tech and Other Toys | Tags: , ,
| July 28, 2011
Comments Off on More Vintage Laptop Madness!

More Vintage Laptop Madness!


Continuing Vintage Laptop Computer Madness Week here at Fantastical Andrew Fox.com, today we have for your kind perusal installment two of Lust for a Laptop, or the Madness of the Obsessive Collector.

In today’s installment, I make my big move back to New Orleans in the fall of 1990. I start writing my first novel on my new Panasonic laptop at Borsodi’s Coffeehouse. I inadvertently do performance art with said laptop. Laptop #1 suffers fatal injury during Hurricane Andrew. Laptop #2 is even better, though: a three-pound Gateway HandBook! A relative is killed on New Year’s Eve by a falling bullet fired in celebration. I start the New Year Coalition to rid the city of the scourge of holiday gunfire. I use the HandBook to keep myself at least partially organized and sane. The stress of the campaign does severe damage to my first marriage. I try to set things right by pulling on a pair of rented rollerblades…

It’s the beginnings of my plunge into the Portable Computing Revolution of the 1990s! It’s the Big Easy! It’s trauma and tragedy (and low comedy)! Read it!

Category: Big Easy, Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life, Stuff I Like, Vintage Tech and Other Toys | Tags: ,
| July 13, 2011
Comments Off on New Upcoming Project Pages Added

New Upcoming Project Pages Added

images of Krampus, bad luck spirit

I’ve updated my Upcoming Projects page, adding more information on three novels I hope will see print or pixel in the not so distant future — Fire on Iron, The Bad Luck Spirits’ Social Aid and Pleasure Club, and Ghostlands. I found a gorgeous, haunting image of the Washington Monument partially obscured by snow to illustrate my capsule summary of Ghostlands. Take a look!

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Science Fiction | Tags: , ,
| July 12, 2011
3 comments

So Dracula Was a Yid. . .?

Boy, just when you thought you knew your vampires. . .

An article in Jewish Ideas Daily describes a new book by Sara Libby Robinson, Blood Will Tell, an academic consideration of vampires in popular culture during the decades leading up to World War One. From the description, the book appears to build upon insights from one of my favorite books on horror in popular culture, David J. Skal’s The Monster Show. Skal’s book discusses how the new European focus on “race” and “blood” in the late nineteenth century, spurred by theorists of Evolutionary Darwinism, coincided with and was reflected by a sudden craze for vampire fiction. According to the Jewish Ideas Daily article, Robinson’s book

argues that Stoker’s depiction of Dracula exploited widespread anxieties about the dangers posed by the flood (and the blood) of Yiddish-speaking immigrants to Great Britain. Dracula’s features are “stereotypically Jewish . . . [his] nose is hooked, he has bushy eyebrows, pointed ears, and sharp, ugly fingers.”

This brings to mind, of course, the funniest line from Roman Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers, when a threatened blonde damsel tries to ward off a Jewish vampire with a crucifix and he replies, “Boy, have you got the wrong vampire!”

So, does Dracula rate an invitation to my next seder? Read the article, then decide.

Category: Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags: ,
| July 11, 2011
Comments Off on My Little Mapmaker

My Little Mapmaker

map of City of Mentropenia

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map of Country of Feganosenia

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Levi, my seven year-old, thinks this website is one of the coolest things his daddy has ever done. Maybe the coolest. He wants in the worst way to help out. If he were a few years older and as adept at web design as many of his eleven year-old peers, I’d be able to find plenty of ways for him to help out. Right now, though? It’s a little tougher.

One thing Levi loves to do is make maps. No one encouraged him to do this. He just started doing it one day, and now he draws five or six maps each week. Most of the maps are of cities or new countries he dreams up. They make me think of the maps that often appear in the front of Big, Fat, Fantasy Epics, or in novels of the New Weird.

Levi is keenly interested in coming up with ways to make money. So how about it, Jeff Vandermeer or China Mieville? How about hiring Levi to draw maps for your next Ambergris or Embassytown books?

By the way, when Levi heard I was going to post some of his maps on my site, he made me an ad to go with them:
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Category: Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life | Tags:
| July 7, 2011
2 comments

New Stuff Added to Articles and Stories Pages


I’ve posted a couple of new items. I retrieved “The Secret Origin of Jules Duchon, Vampire! Or, How Jules Duchon, New Orleans Bloodsucker, Got So Darned Fat” from my old website and added it to the Articles page. I also added my personal favorite of the short stories I’ve written, a piece I’m really proud of called “The Man Who Would Be Kong.” It first appeared in SCIFI.COM back in 2005, in the final monthly edition of the online fiction magazine SCI FICTION, edited by Ellen Datlow. I snuck in right before the powers-that-be pulled the plug on one of the best magazines going.

Category: Big Easy, Horror and Fantasy, Stuff I Like | Tags: ,
| July 6, 2011
4 comments

Jules vs. Breezy


I added the only Fat White Vampire short story I’ve ever written, “Jules Versus Breezy,” which also serves as a little memorial piece for my very dear friend, Robert Borsodi. To me, Bob was one of the people who made New Orleans such a fantastical, enchanting place. He had operated bohemian coffeehouses in ten different locations by the time he arrived in New Orleans in the late 1970s; he’d founded his first in New Haven in 1959, when he’d been a student at Yale, before he went into the Marines (it is so very, very hard for me to imagine Bob Borsodi in the United States Marines; but Bob, like Walt Whitman, contained multitudes). He opened his first New Orleans coffeehouse on Daneel Street, next door to what was then the Penny Post and is now the Neutral Ground Coffeehouse, a folk music club. His second, best known location was on Freret Street, about a half mile east of Tulane and Loyola Universities. It was a huge, warehouse-like space, with the espresso bar in front and a stage in back big enough for full scale plays. Bob lived in a kind of hidden alcove above the stage, with access to the building’s roof. The entire coffeehouse served as a colossal collage, an ever-evolving art installation made up of whatever Bob and his regulars felt like gluing to the walls and furniture. I first met Bob in 1983, while I was an undergraduate at Loyola, shortly after I moved into an apartment in the neighborhood. I did my laundry at a shabby little washateria next to Bob’s place, and while I was waiting for my wash to finish, I’d go next door for a cup of tea or an Italian soda and a chat with Bob. He didn’t have his beard then, and he was open during the afternoons, which he wasn’t in later years, although the place was mostly deserted before about seven at night. He was interested in Loyola because he thought his son might attend. We got to be pretty good friends over the next three years. Upon graduation, I swore to him that I intended to move back to New Orleans someday. I don’t think he believed me.

The next time I saw Bob was after I moved to Northport, New York in Long Island’s Suffolk County. Bob had taken a crew of his friends and regulars to perform one of his plays, Musk, at Theater for the New City in the East Village in Manhattan. The stage set looked just like Borsodi’s Coffeehouse in New Orleans. I immediately felt homesick. I invited Bob and his lady friend, Sara Beth, to come stay with me at my apartment in Northport. They stayed the night and walked around the harbor and the old downtown. I promised again that I would move back to New Orleans someday. Again, I don’t think Bob believed me.

Less than two years later, I picked myself up and plunked myself back in New Orleans, with no plans or prospects other than finishing my first novel. . . at Borsodi’s Coffeehouse. Bob was really the one who drew me back to New Orleans. So I have much to thank him for, since everything that is most wonderful in my life has its roots in my time in New Orleans. I’ll write more about my return to New Orleans and my experiences at Borsodi’s Coffeehouse in an essay I’m finishing up called “Lust for a Laptop, or the Madness of the Obsessive Collector.”

I wrote the little story here linked to in 1998, for Bob’s sixtieth birthday. Four years later, suffering from incurable cancer that had spread through much of his body, in unbearable pain, Bob threw himself off the Hale Boggs Bridge in Luling, about thirty miles west of New Orleans. The city hasn’t quite been itself since.

Category: Big Easy, Horror and Fantasy, Slices of Life | Tags: , , ,
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