Lost worlds and ports of call

Month: December 2019

Brad Linaweaver’s Clownface

This is a book I’ve long wanted, but for one reason or another, never seemed to find the right opportunity. Published in 1999 by J.Neil Schulman’s Pulpless.com, Inc. ( a strange name for a publishing company), I might have held back from buying it as I once considered trying to publish my own collection of Brad Linaweaver stories. Despite having zero book publishing experience, I always wanted to try to publish the complete store stories of either Linweaver or Michael Shea.

I’d read many of Linaweaver’s stories in their original settings, either magazines of anthologies. I considered him a friend, and we spoke often via phone, email, or the occasional old-fashioned letter. I own or owned almost all his other books – novels like Moon of Ice and The Land Beyond Summer, and the libertarian anthology, Free Space. At one point I owned all the Doom novelizations, but I think they went out during one of my infrequent book purges, which happens when I run out space and need to move some of the books. When I learned of his death in August of 2019, I felt I needed this book. The fact that publisher Schulman died earlier that same month is a strange coincidence.

Clocking in at nearly 600 pages, with 43 stories and an introduction from writer Victor Koman, the first thing that strikes you is the cover. Garish, over the top, it’s probably fitting at some level, since Linaweaver was a huge fan of the B-movie genre. There are just over forty stories in the book. As I don’t have a complete bibliography, I don’t know if these are all his stories. Given that it appeared 20 years ago, perhaps he wrote more stories since then, although I think his focus shifted to movies and his Mondo Cult publications.

I won’t attempt to review each of the 40 plus stories. I’ve done this with shorter collections in various other publications, where editors have complained about a lack of themes in how I group the stories covered in those short reviews. I’ve always found it difficult to review anthologies or collections. Often one writes a sentence or fragment of a sentence about or story, a paragraph about another, and forget to mention one or two more. Those collections generally average a dozen or so entries. A book with nearly four times that number would make for a long essay, and a worn-out reviewer (and reader).

The great thing about Linaweaver was his enthusiasm for everything. He advocated ceaseless for everything he liked, from writers to movies, and yes, even himself. It’s a situation all writers find themselves forced into: selling themselves to the paying audience, the reader. He did garner some great reviews in his time, even a Nebula nomination and mention in some of the year’s best anthologies. This collection, while it’s still available, is one I think many SF (and horror/fantasy) fans would like, although perhaps tastes have changed enough since 1999 to prove me wrong. Maybe Linaweaver stories are now more of the guilty pleasure kind, forays into politically incorrect tales that likely as not would end up getting people cancelled.

Each story comes with an introduction by the author, which I’ve tended to enjoy as much as the stories themselves. These small notes give us insights into the author’s mind as he wrote them, or tried to get them published. My one regret is that I didn’t get a chance to tell Linaweaver in person how much I enjoyed the book.

Speaks the Nightbird

I used to read Robert McCammon’s books in the 1990s. Maybe not all of them, but the vast majority. I have the Dark Harvest editions of Swan Song and They Thirst, several paperbacks, and the hardback editions of Boy’s Life and Mine, his two “last” novels. At least, until he resurfaced with Speaks the Nightbird, a hefty book set in 1699 South Carolina, published in 2002, a decade after Gone South.

I picked up Speaks the Nightbird by chance in a used bookstore a couple of years ago. I didn’t even know he was back in the business. It sat, unread, until I glanced through it this month and then read it cover to cover over one weekend, all 726 pages.

There are sequels, but all apparently published by small presses, either Subterranean Press or Cemetery Dance. These fetch a hefty price on the secondary market, especially the second volume in his series with protagonist Matthew Corbett. It’s great to see McCammon back as a writer. I just wish the regular publishers would pick up his books and print them again. This is superb historical fiction, and it baffles the mind that not a single major publisher is aware of the potential there.

Two more departed souls

In August two more people I knew died. Both were writers: J. Neil Schulman and Brad Linaweaver. Although I knew Neil, we butted heads a couple of times over the years. However Brad was a friend, and once again I’m shaken by the unexpected death of someone who died far too young. I started to write an appreciation of Brad, but the task proved difficult. He was a friend, a mentor, a spark. It’s still weird to think they’re both gone.

Swords in the Mist

Centipede Press continues it’s superb series of Fritz Lieber’s Fafhrd and Gray Mouser books, with volume 3, Swords in the Mist. There are a half dozen stories in this book, illustrations, and some additional texts at the end, and an introduction by Tim Powers, another of my favorite authors. The wrap-around cover is again beyond amazing.

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