Anders Monsen

Lost worlds and ports of call

Category: books (Page 1 of 19)

Peter Lovesey’s Diamond Series

February 11, 2025 / / 0 Comments

One of the many mystery/detective series I’ve gotten into over the past few years has been Peter Lovesey’s Peter Diamond books; I’m not sure why Lovesey gave his leading character the same first name as his own, but it’s a bit confusing at times. At this point, I’m no longer sure which of the Diamond books I read first, as there’s now more than twenty of them. It might be Upon a Dark Night, or The Last Detective. According to my library database, the former is the first one entered, and the latter the second. The latter is also the first in the series. I might have started there, maybe not. I tend to start series out of order, since I buy them when I find them. Anyway, I found the first Lovesey book good enough to start looking for all of Peter Lovesey’s books. He has written other books, after all.

Of the 22 books in the Diamond series (if I’m correct regarding that number), I owned—until recently 19 books in the series. The 22nd book was recently published in hardcover, so I’ll discount that one for now. It also might be the last in the series, but I’ll need to wait for the paperback to be sure. Of the other two, one was the 20th in the series. The other, the seventh book in the series, is a far more consequential book. Since I’d read books 8-19, plus book 21, I knew that a singular and major event happened in Diamond’s (fictional) life at some point. Book seven, Diamond Dust, covers that event. It’s a tough read, for sure, knowing the fate in that book of someone close to Diamond.

Most of the books featuring police detective Peter Diamond take place in (or around) Bath, England. I’ve been to Bath twice in my life. The most recent visit was in 2024, where I spent three days in the city, walking the streets (and running through a fair number of them), seeing the sights, and falling in love with the town. My previous visit was in 2000, where I spent just one day there, and saw only a minuscule part of the city. Still, it was an important visit back in 2000, since I connected Bath at that time with Jane Austen. As an English major in college and a Jane Austen fan, that visit meat a great deal to me at the time.

Bath, despite being a touristy town (myself admittedly being one of those tourists), is a wonderful place. The city is ancient. It’s historic. It’s bisected by a river, which always is a thrill in itself. There are hills all around the city. Stonehenge is nearby, London and other places a mere train ride away. There’s the Abbey, the Roman baths, the Crescent, Pulteney Bridge, the weir, so many other features. It has a wonderful Waterstones bookstore, plus far more things that I never got to see. And, lots and lots of tourists. In other words: I love Bath (well, apart from the tourists, even though I was one of them…).

That aside, back to Lovesey’s Peter Diamond series….

All the books I have of Lovesey’s were published by Soho Crime. Once I started to buy and read the trade paperback editions, I had to continue with that format (Okay, so I do have a hardcover or two). I also read them out of order, more or less as I found them. Some, I bought new. Other books, because they weren’t in my local bookstores, I bought used—when and if I came across them in local used bookstores. A handful of the books I found in a specialty bookstore, Murder by the Book, in Houston, Texas. Even there, they didn’t have all the books as new ones.

In January, 20025 I came across Diamond Dust, one that I’d been hunting for quite some time (viz. book seven). This book was in the small used books section in Murder by the Book. I don’t visit Houston often, but I was able to swing to Murder by the Book for slightly less than an hour in January 2025. While there, I was thrilled to find a copy of Diamond Dust in great condition for a used book. Strangely enough, the other two books in the series that I lacked also were there, but I didn’t realize it at the time for one of them, and I skipped the other as it was a hardcover edition, and I have all the rest in trade paperback.

Part of the delight in the series is the setting: the city of Bath in England. Part of it is the main character himself: the overweight, clumsy, yet efficient and old-fashioned detective, Peter Diamond. He’s such a funny person, bumbling yet not stupid, that one can’t help but like him. In the series you also see the changing landscape of local policing. When I visited Bath in 2024, I walked past the supposed HQ of the Bath police department (or former HQ(, in Manvers Street; it’s near the train station, and close to the “center” of town—the area around the Abbey. I really wanted to go inside and ask if anyone had read Lovesey’s books, and if so, what they had thought of them. However, I’m sure I would have been disappointed. I don’t think I ever saw an officer of the law while in Bath. Would it have mattered? Probably not. Bath in real life is nothing like the fictional world. However much one might wish that someone like Peter Diamond existed—they don’t. Which is sad, I think.

Still, if you like good old fashioned English crime stories, seek out Peter Lovesey’s books. You won’t be disappointed. Meanwhile, I’m going to read Diamond Dust slowly, since I known there are powerful emotions at work in that book. I will try not to skip to the end. It’s hard, sometimes, dealing with the stress in a book like this. But, I must resist that temptation, since Diamond means so much to me. Let it all work out, I tell myself.

And then, once I’ve read this book: onward to those other two remaining books in the series.

Books added: Four Arkham House books.

February 10, 2025 / / 0 Comments

I know that I’ll never collect them all, but I do like to pick up Arkham House books when I come across them. In this case, I recently acquired a group of four books by quite disparate authors. When I looked for information about the authors and when their books were published, I turned to Sixty Years of Arkham House by S. T. Joshi. The index in this book isn’t entirely accurate, and each entry is relatively short, covering publication date, number of copies, and a little more. Sometimes there’s an listing of contents for poems and short stories in the volume, but I guess that when covering 200 books there’s not too much room for anything else.

Joshi’s book lists 193 items published by Arkham House; I now own a mere 35 of them. This number is just under 20%, an almost insignificant percentage. I’m quite happy with the ones that I have, though, and I’ll only look for others if a) they’re within my budget and b) the condition looks decent.

The Face in the Mirror, Denys Val Baker
Published in 1971, and now the earliest of my Arkham House books; 2045 copies printed. A slim volume of tales set in the author’s native Cornwall. Prior to this book the earliest Arkham House book that I owned was published in 1975. Having now come close to the magic decade of the 1960s, it makes me quite excited to have a copy of this book.

The Height of the Scream, Ramsey Campbell
Published in 1976; 4348 copies printed. Campbells third Arkham House collection. I own just a couple of Campbell books. One is part of Borderlands Press “Little Book” series. The other is a collection from Dark Harvest with both Campbell and Charles Grant stories (Dark Harvest’s Black Wine). Aside from that, I may have a few anthologies where Campbell has contributed a story.

Dwellers in Darkness, August Derleth
Also published in 1976; 3926 copies printed. The eighth and last Arkham House collection of Derleth stories. Derleth was one of the founders of Arkham House. To acquire the prior seven of his collection likely would bust a few budgets.

The Darkling, David Kesterton
Published in 1982; 3126 copies printed. Kesterton’s name doesn’t appear in the index of Joshi’s 1999 book, and the book title’s page number listed in the index is incorrect. Joshi’s also quite dismissive of the book and author in his note, calling it a “‘Slushpile’ submission that made it’s way to publication.”

It’s such a shame that this major publisher of weird fiction fizzled into almost nothing when it had the major IP of the “Arkham House” name behind it. They’ve hardly published anything in the past two decades. Most of their books published prior to 1970 are hard to find or quite expensive. This is as expected, given the name, as well some of the authors works in that group. Arkham House released N copies for each of their books, no special editions. Golden Gryphon did the same. Most other small current presses will have two or three states: trade hardcover, limited, and/or ultra-limited. Trade books in these states don’t list how many are printed. Limited will list the number of copies in this state, while the ultra-limited usually are lettered books limited to 26 copies.

I’m by no means a Lovecraft fan, but recently saw a bidding war online for the first two collections of his letters rise from $0.99 to nearly $150. That’s a pittance if you interested in early Clark Ashton Smith, or Ray Bradbury’s Dark Carnival (I’ve seen these listed upwards of $6,500), or even William Hope Hodgson’s House on the Borderlands book (close to $1,000). Basically, all the early books fetch prices only the serious collector would pay.

Murakami Manga

January 22, 2025 /

I’m a huge fan of Haruki Murakami’s fiction. However, I don’t really read manga, the Japanese comic book art form/genre. Still, recently I picked up a pair of Murakami manga books (there’s a third one—at least—out there that I now need to find).

One book—I don’t know if there’s a sequence to them—contains four stories. The other, three stories. Previously, I’ve read all of these in narrative form. “Birthday Girl,” “Where I’m Likely to Find It,” and “The Seventh Man” appeared in the collection Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, while “Super Frog Saves Tokyo” appeared in After the Quake.

In the other collection, “Thailand” was in After the Quake, while “The Second Bakery Attack” was in The Elephant Vanishes. As for “Samsa in Love,” it appears in Men Without Women., which is a strange choice since there’s a woman in that story. Although, how she’s drawn might lead to some confusion. “Samsa in Love” is, after all, an inversion of Kafka’s “Metamorphosis.”

So, several stories all drawn from various sources. I’ve now read four of of the seven manga tales. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge of that genre, or graphic novels in general (although I do own a dozen or more graphic novels), but the drawings some across as oddly shaped, distorted almost. There are weird “sound-texts” or words that try to represent non-verbal sounds. Some stories are funny, some meander and go nowhere. I love Murakami’s slow and measured prose, how he makes the normal weird, and the weird normal, but I’m not sure about these manga versions. Is this because I prefer my own inner voice, my own vision of the characters and events? Maybe something to think about. Almost all the other graphic novels I own are original, although there are some based on stories or novels. Perhaps the art matters, as those are drawn, well, better.

Of course, now I’ll need to re-read the stories, just to see what was left out of the manga versions, if anything. And, I have just one unread Murakami book to plow through. I do hope his next novel reaches the heights of previous good books, as his latest was a disappointment.

Book added: Night Visions 3

January 7, 2025 /

Published in 1986 by Dark Harvest, this anthology contains stories from Ramsey Campbell, Lisa Tuttle, and Clive Barker, and edited by George R. R. Martin (Martin would later have stories in Night Visions 5).

The sole remaining book in the “Night Visions” anthology series from Dark Harvest (1984 through 1991) that I did not own, and long on my want list. Purchased for $42 on the very last day of 2024. Though it’s not pristine, the book is in great condition. As a bonus, it’s signed by Lisa Tuttle, though this copy is the trade edition. Seven stories by Campbell, three by Tuttle, and the first appearance of Barker’s “The Hellbound Heart.”

Book added: David Silva’s Little White Lies

December 31, 2024 /

David B. Silva’s entry in the Borderlands Press little books series, A Little White Book of Lies, was until recently one of seven books in that series that I lacked (now down to six!). Originally published in 2005, this slim book is quite hard to find (I think I’ve seen it listed only once or twice in the past three years). Then again, that’s the fate for almost all the early Borderlands Press little books, ie. those published before 2006.

I found a copy online many months ago, but at that time considered it outside my budget. However, with a recently acquired gift card in hand, I secured the book for around $6 of my own money. Cheapskate? Opportunist? Maybe a bit of both. In my defense, I do buy the most recent ones direct from the publisher, and so they actually get my money, vs. dealers and resellers who bump up the prices to whatever the market can bear.

Silva’s books contains five stories, each centered around a lie, plus a brief introduction. Four of the stories have been published elsewhere, and one seems original to this collection.

This is first time (I think—correction: see below) that I’ve read anything by Silva. [Edited 1/2/2025: apparently I have read some of his stories before, as I found three anthologies in my book shelves with Silva stories: Night Visions 10 (Subterranean Press) with five stories, and one story each in Cold Blood (Ziesing) and Obsessions (Dark Harvest) and possible there are others.] From what I can tell, there is no Wikipedia entry on Silva, but Locus Magazine has an obituary, listing his death in 2013—eleven years (!) ago as I write this brief entry. According to that brief obituary, Silva died at the relatively young age of 62. Perhaps best known as the editor of The Horror Show (1982-1991), he also wrote a few novels and short stories.

Now, only six books in the series remain out of my grasp, and all are of the “insanely pricy” variety: Thomas Ligotti and Neil Gaiman I can understand; Joe Hill, maybe a rarity by association, although he’s been making a name for himself as well; Brian Keene and Josh Malerman, not sure why, but maybe I missed that bus; Douglas Winter, on the low end of the scale, yet still a worthy editor/writer. Prices for these books when they appear for sale (which is rare) range from $70 to $700. Quite a range there. Then again, I recently saw a copy of F. Paul Wilson’s book listed online for nearly $800. If ever there was a spit-take moment, that would be the time for one, as I bought it for a fraction of that price when it first was published. Still, with only 500 copies (for the most part) of these little books, and each numbered and signed, they’ll only get rarer. Unless I get lucky, this might be as fast as I go in the past, which is annoying, but acceptable.

Books added: F. Paul Wilson’s Sims novellas

December 29, 2024 /

Many years ago F. Paul Wilson wrote five novellas in the Sims “saga.” These novellas were published by Cemetery Dance between 2000 to 2010,. In between those dates, they were released as a novel by Tor Books in 2003. While the former novellas were limited, the novel from Tor was a mass market publication.

Why it took Cemetery Dance seven years after the novel was published to round out the five volumes remains a mystery to me. Each novella from Cemetery Dance was limited to 750 numbered copies, and signed by Wilson. As a Wilson fan, currently looking to fill in missing gaps of books published over the past few years, I never felt compelled to seek out these novellas, as I already had the collected set of novellas gathered in the book from Tor (inscribed to me by Wilson at the World Fantasy Convention in Austin, TX, in 2006, I think). However, when I found them listed this year from various sellers at prices well below the original listed price of $35 per book, I thought, “Why not?”

As I write this in 2024, I vaguely remember the plot of Sims, the novel. I know that I read it back then, and voted for it when it was nominated for the Prometheus Award. Over 20 years had passed since I last thought about this story. When I picked up the five individual novellas this year, I re-read them in that format. I was surprised at how little I remembered, yet also at some of the details that remained stuck in my memory.

The first book, La Causa, sets the stage. The world of Sims, much like the five-book world of the LaNague Federation, is independent of Wilson’s Secret History saga. Here, genetically enhanced chimpanzees are cheap labor (more like slaves; not to dissimilar from the clones in Dydeetown World), even acting as caddies on golf courses (or worse, as we’ll see). A young lawyer, Patrick Sullivan, gets asked by some of the sims to represent them to form a labor union, and takes the case. This puts him in opposition to SimGen, the company that created and owns the sims. Their attempts to intimidate him only makes him dig in his heels harder, and he ends up embracing their cause. Meanwhile, another character, Romy Cadman, works for the government investigating research risks, while at the same time moonlights for a shadowy person trying to bring down SimGen. Her handler in this group goes by Zero, wears a mask to hide his features, and seems to have insider knowledge into the plans and workings of SimGen. At once we have multiple, yet intersecting, conflicts with many potentials.

The second installment, The Portero Method, brings Sullivan closer together with Romy. Portero is the security head of SimGen, but also seems to be working for another group, one that occupies the shadows. The Portero method is harsh, brutal, and throws a major wrench in Sullivan’s unionizing attempts. It also drives into the same group as Romy and Zero, now even more determined to bring down SimGen.

The third, Meerm, introduces a new character, and a new element to the story, one that will bring everything to a crashing climax. Meerm is another sim, on the run from a low-budget gene-lab, yet one with the potential to bring down SimGen, and the race is on to find this sim. Three groups are trying to find her: Portero’s two employers, as well as Zero’s cell.

The fourth, Zero, focuses on the person behind the mask. As the prime mover against SimGen, Zero has hired both Patrick Sullivan and Romy Cadman, hiding behind a mask the entire time. We learn of his ties to SimGen, giving him inside information. The hunt for Meerm ratchets up, with multiple groups trying to find this pregnant sim.

The fifth and final entry, Thy Brother’s Keeper, ties it all together. Everything erupts when we learn of Zero’s identity, and the ending is both heroic and tragic. Meerm’s baby seals the fate of SimGen, although the true origin of the sims remains a secret the public will never know. Lives are shattered, and it’s not just a happy ending for everyone. Wilson truly keeps everyone on their toes.

With this stack of books in hand, signed and numbered, each limited to 750 copies, I wonder if owning them is any different from owning the Tor edition of Sims? My Tor edition of Sims is inscribed to me by Wilson, and although all the five novellas are signed, does this equate to talking to Wilson, handing him a book and getting it returned as inscribed? On one level, it doesn’t. And yet, the Tor book was printed in thousands of copies, while the Cemetery Dance books had a much lower print run. They also contain illustrations that the Tor book edition did not. I sometimes struggle between the idea of a collector and a fan. I’m a fan of FPW, but as a collector, I’m more random and haphazard in my actions. Yet, for some weird reason, owning these five books gives me a thrill that the Tor Books edition never gave me. Why is that? Is that some innate human behavior, or just a focused aspect of some obsessive compulsive disorder?

Books added: F. Paul Wilson’s The Hidden

December 28, 2024 /

The Upwelling, Book I of The Hidden (2024). Written a few years before Wilson’s recent stroke, this is the first in a two book series, but just published this year. Given that he vowed to not write any Repairman Jack books after Nightworld (although he filled in a few earlier gaps with a pair of trilogies), this series might be seen as Wilson’s attempt to break away from Repairman Jack, yet still remain within his Secret History world. (Double Dose and Double Threat also fall into that category). It’s likely also Wilson’s last work of fiction. (That’s a sad sentence to write….)

Initially published as a trade paperback under the imprint of Crossroad Press Publishing (whatever that means), it now looks like Gauntlet Press will publish the book in a limited hardcover edition. Per their website, only the 26 lettered editions will bear Wilson’s signature, which is to be expected given his recent stroke.

I don’t think I was aware of either of these books until recently this year, when I saw some online review. In this novel, our protagonist, Chan Liao awakens to find a missing chunk of his memory. Along with three friends he spends a weekend at Atlantic City. In the span of a few hours the entire Atlantic City area was essentially vaporized, and he has no recollection of the events. Over 25,000 people died, and he has no idea where he was or what happened. One of those three friends, Danielle “Danni” Boudreau, an FBI agent, is in the same situation—no memory of what happened. This is an intriguing premise. Wilson quickly moves the location to the familiar New Jersey Pine Barrens. In the course of events he introduces a group of people with strangely enhanced abilities: two dead people refuse to burn, others claim to be thousands of years old. Chan and Boudreau trace events and actors to a mountain in upstate New York. Hints of the Ally and the Otherness, well-known players from the Repairman Jack series, make themselves known, along with a new entity, name the Squatter. Events come to a head, which lead into the sequel.

Lexie, Book II of The Hidden (2024). Picking up right after the events of The Hidden, Lexie brings various humans related to the Ally and the Otherness to the fore. These are well-known to Repairman Jack readers: the Septimus Order, and (perhaps less so) the Yeniçeri. Lexie also introduces “the Troika” three individuals who are aware of the Secret History: the two main players behind the scenes, and certain people linked to another of Wilson’s novels, Signalz (but, strangely, not Jack himself).

The namesake of the second book is an enhanced (super-intelligent?) seven year old, the offspring of a Squatter-enhanced and a normal human. This person, Lexie, can walk between parallel worlds, as well as possessing other powers. She’s highly intelligent, and conversely has zero emotions and empathy (think Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory). Along with Chao and Danni, she is needed to try to save the world, at least this one, given the multi-verse aspect of these novels. Although Jack is alluded to at one point as “the Defender” (or is that Glaeken?), we’re never sure if this is the same world as Repairman Jack, given the multi-verse aspect of the books.

I admit that I read the books quickly, as happens to be the case when I read FPW books. I have a few quibbles here and there with choices and actions, but overall I enjoyed the two books. There are many unanswered questions at the end. Perhqps, if FPW wasn’t burdened by his stroke, he might have rewritten certain scenes, or worked in a third book. The ending just seems unsatisfactory. Chan harbors a great love for Boudreau, and while she considers him a friend, she’s stated multiple times her lesbian leanings. This situation just never seemed like it reached a resolution, though Liao had other options given to him. Wilson also cheats multiple times by writing Liao as a “Bruce Lee” look-alike, which gives him zero character as an individual. Perhaps I’m just annoyed that the events appear to be part of his Secret History and yet avoid all mention of Repairman Jack. I guess that’s just my feelings at play.

More thoughts on Haruki Murakami

December 26, 2024 /

I can’t remember the first novel of Haruki Murakami that I read. Many years ago, during the time when I ran marathons (2010-2013), my brother gave me a copy of Murakami’s slim non-fiction book, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. This book, published in 2007, is one that I have read many times. Back then, I thought of Murakami as a fellow runner, even though he’s run major marathons like Boston and New York, and I will never sniff either one of those events. I knew next to nothing about his fiction career.

However, a year or so after reading his book around running, I bought one of Murakami’s novels (I don’t remember which one, maybe Norwegian Wood, maybe not). I liked it well enough that I bought another, and then another. At some point Murkami became one my favorite writers of all time, and I sought out and read all of his books. I even named a fiction detective in a one of my own attempts of writing fiction after Murakami. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Kafka on the Shore, and 1Q84 remain my favorites. Including the two books mentioned below, I now own 24 of Murakami’s books. When a writer speaks to you in a language (and style) that you understand, it’s amazing how one book becomes 24.

For Christmas 2025 I was given two relatively new Murakami books. One is a collection of essays, Novelist as a Vocation. The other is his most recent novel, The City and Its Uncertain Walls. Most of his books I’ve bought in the trade paperback editions. The three exceptions are The City (2024), Killing Commendatore (2018 – which I bought in Norway a couple of years ago), and a fun version of the novella, The Strange Library (2014).

Novelist as a Vocation is a collection of eleven essays on the craft of writing, at least how Murakami sees it. In the course of reading his other books I’ve gleaned a sentence or paragraph that might find a home in one of these essays. Still, I look forward to reading about them in more detail.

The City and Its Uncertain Walls is Murakami’s latest work of fiction. Despite trying to avoid reviews and spoilers, I’ve encountered one or two while coming across his name online in mentions about this book. What I know before I read the book is this: it started a while ago as an idea, a fragment, and Murakami didn’t like where it went at the time. Then, at some moment, it made sense to him as a story. Some reviewers aren’t too keen on the book, or part of the book. I’ll reserve my own judgment until I read the book. Murakami’s style and pace isn’t for everyone, but for some reason both speak directly to my soul.

Every year Murakami is mentioned as a candidate for the Nobel Prize in literature. Every year his name is passed over. It’s quite likely that he’ll never get this award. Instead, some obscure writer’s name will appear, and so it goes each year. Meanwhile, like the maverick writer that he is, he’ll write whatever’s important to him, critics and awards be damned. Arigatou gozaimasu, Murakami-sama!

Book added: F. Paul Wilson’s Ephemerata

December 26, 2024 /

I’m still working on my “collect all F. Paul Wilson books” effort. The endgame approaches, with just a handful remaining.

First of the final books is Ephemerata, The Odds and Ends of a Writing Life (2024). At some point, Wilson started collecting his “non-fiction” and selling it to interested readers as an eBook. The first “edition” was published in March, 2017. The benefit of eBooks, as Wilson stated, was that as he added more material, he could push out an update. As if by magic, the readers would just need to refresh or update something, and suddenly have more material on their devices. In 2024 he released this collection in print. That’s a benefit to me, as I don’t (and won’t) read eBooks. On the other hand, it’s unfortunate, as the stroke he suffered a couple of years ago has robbed readers and fans of Wilson’s fiction and non-fiction in any future stories.

Weighing in at nearly 600 pages, the hardcopy publication of Ephemerata appears to be a “print-on-demand” book. Wilson split his non-fiction into the following sections: Forewords, Intros, and Afterwords; Appreciations; Memoirs; Puffery; The Byte Columns; Fictions; Reviews; and Opinion (here I use semi-colons between each section, as the first section has commas, so otherwise would appear to be three different sections). Rounding out the book, there’s a timeline of the Secret History, and a bibliography. It’s not the “ridiculously detailed bibliography,” which appeared in the third volume of The Compendium of F, but more a listing of books.

With almost 600 pages of material, one could spend hours trying to read each item. In my case, I jumped back and forth, sampling a bit here, then going elsewhere for something entirely different. Prepended to each item is a snippet of text that establishes the context of the piece in question. As a huge F. Paul Wilson fan since back in 1986, this is a book I will long enjoy. As a print-on-demand book, it’s not a “collector’s item,” but rather an insight into a writer’s life, going back all the way to the beginning. Any fan of Wilson would enjoy this book, I think. Then again, maybe most of his fans just want to read the fiction. In my case, there’s far more out there than just the fiction. Maybe I just want to know what makes a writer a writer. To read only a brief diary of his writing life was worth the price of admission. Wilson is dedicated to his craft. Even with a full-time job as a doctor whose saw scores of patients daily, he kept writing. That’s both impressive and humbling.

Book added: Lansdale’s By Bizarre Hands

December 22, 2024 /

I first bought Joe R. Lansdale’s collection, By Bizarre Hands, in its paperback edition way back in 1989 or 1990. My Avon Books paperback copy now shows, 35 years later, the inevitable signs of aging in the faded pages; when I read paperback books I am careful not to break the spine, so otherwise it’s in pristine condition.

Over the years I picked up other Lansdale books, some in paperback, but mostly in hardback when I could find them. I think I have a love/hate relationship with Lansdale’s writing. His plots and characters are interesting, his dialog is — to me at least — painful to read; all the characters speak in the same snide voice.

At current count I own 41 Lansdale books. This is but a fraction of his total output. Sometimes I find copies in bookstores that sell new books, sometimes in bookstores that sell used books; I do wish I could buy them all as new books, vs. stumbling upon them now and then. I guess I could look online, but I much prefer seeing the condition of the books before I buy them. In the 1990s I bought a few books at SF conventions. I met Lansdale once (or maybe more) at ArmadilloCons in Austin in the 1990s, and I think he signed a few of my books then. I stopped attending these conventions when I moved from Austin in 2001. When I check the guest list these days for ArmadilloCon, there are very few authors listed I care about, so I feel no urge to drive the two hours there to attend that convention. It’s not like back in the day when James P. Blaylock, Tim Powers, Bruce Sterling, Lewis Shiner, William Gibson, and a host of great writers attended that convention. These days I don’t even recognize the names.

In December, 2024, I came across the hardback edition of By Bizarre Hands, listed for $25. A seller discount to $20 prompted me to buy the book. Published by Mark V. Ziesing in 1989, apparently the same year as the Avon Books paperback edition, this book has the added bonus of being signed by Lansdale. It’s not the limited edition, but that’s never the deciding factor when I buy books. This is Lansdale’s first short story collection. It gathers together 16 stories, along with the author’s preface and an introduction by fellow Texas writer Lewis Shiner.

I don’t think I’ve read these stories since I first bought the book. I read a couple of them right off the bat once I received the hardcover edition, and I was, to put it mildly, a little shocked. How it it possible in 2024 to be shocked by stories first written 35 years ago, if not more? These stories are not for the faint of heart. Some of his later novels have toned down the violence, but the stories in By Bizarre Hands are raw, in your face, and sometimes quite disturbing.

The hardcover edition was published by Mark V. Ziesing. His imprint published books mostly in the late 1980s through the late 1990s, many of them classics in the genre. These include Tim Powers’s Anubis Gates, Richard Chizmar’s collection Cold Blood, Neal Barrett, Jr.’s The Hereafter Gang, Howard Waldrop’s Night of the Cooters, a Bruce Sterling collection, and many more.

The hardcover edition was published by Mark V. Ziesing. His imprint published books mostly in the late 1980s through the late 1990s, some of them classics in the genre. These include Tim Powers’s Anubis Gates, Richard Chizmar’s collection Cold Blood, Neal Barrett, Jr.’s The Hereafter Gang, Howard Waldrop’s Night of the Cooters, and many more. One of the tragedies of the small press market of the 1990s is that so many great publishers simply faded away after a run of putting out great books.

As I check my library, I see that own 16 Ziesing books. In this case, it was pure happenstance that I across this book. I’ve bought a few other Ziesing books recently — a limited Waldrop book, a limited anthology edited by Gardner Dozois, and a John Shirley book. There are several other Ziesing that I don’t own, including Shirley’s Wet Bones, Kim Stanley Robinson’s A Short Sharp Shock, a Gene Wolfe book, David Schow’s Black Leather Required, A. A. Attanasio’s Beast Marks, and others. Ziesing lives on as a book seller/dealer, with a superb catalog of books on hand. Well worth the visit and the money.

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