Lost worlds and ports of call

Tag: Subterranean Press (Page 1 of 2)

Another Dragon Griaule tale

Whenever I’m in Phoenix for a few hours, as was the case this month, I try to stop by Book Gallery. This sprawling bookstore carries used and rare books of almost every shape and genre. Precise labels on the shelves cover almost every imaginable subject, so that either one must visit every bookshelf to discover what lies within, or have a specific idea of what to seek.

Over the past couple of years I’ve found some great books there. I’ve also had to put a few books back that were priced above what I could afford. This time, one of the books I could not put back on the shelf was Beautiful Blood, a novel from Lucius Shepard (1943 – 2014). I think it’s the third Shepard books that I’ve bought from Book Gallery, and likely not the last.

As I was checking out, I spoke with the owner, who mentioned that he started his career as a bookseller when one of Shepard’s first books was published. We thought it might have been The Jaguar Hunter, but only as I was driving away did I recall that it was likely Green Eyes (the owner recalled the name as “Green Jaguar”, a mix of both titles). Coincidentally, Green Eyes was the first Shepard book that I bought — the paperback with the green cover. Shortly thereafter, I bought Kalimantan at a bookstore while in New York City. Since then, I’ve bought a dozen of Shepard’s books. I would have bought more, had I been able to find them in bookstores, but sadly many of his books were published only by small presses. When I lived in Austin, TX, only one speciality book store existed (sadly, now long gone), and in my present location there’s no such option. Everything’s online these days, and prices escalate over the years. Still, coming across a physical copy breaks a certain monetary barrier.

Published by Subterranean Press in 2014, and limited to 1,000 numbered copies, my book is number 75. It’s a tale of the Dragon Griaule, one of many that Shepard wrote. I own and have a read a fair number of these tales, but by no means all of them. I probably also own just under half of Shepard’s published books. I still recall when I was able to afford one of his Arkham House collections, The Jaguar Hunter; years later I added his other Arkham House collection, The Ends of the Earth, to my library. Shepard is a quintessential American writer. Several of his stories are set in Central America, linked to events in the 1970s and 1980s, but he also drew inspiration from elsewhere in both reality and fantasy. The Dragon Griaule stories are dark, unrelenting, and tragic, as are many of his other stories, but the prose remains powerful. The more of his stories that I read, the more I want to go out and seek all his other books.

Collectibles Anthology

Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the 100th Subterranean Press book in my library is the anthology, Collectibles, edited by Lawrence Block. This takes me to just over 10 percent of all Subterranean Press books. In my typical haphazard way about collecting books from small press publishers, I’ve picked up Subterranean Press books over the years from various places, and with no real plan in mind. In some cases, it’s because the book is by a favorite author. In others, the price point made it an easy choice. I have added some books by authors I never expected to read, and from that decision added their name to my list of authors to look for and read – Connie Willis is prime here, as I’ve become a fan from reading several of her novellas published by Subterranean Press.

I’ve long been a fan of small press publishers, from Arkham House to Dark Harvest, Subterranean Press to Centipede Press, Mark V. Zeising to Gauntlet Press, Cemetery Dance to Underwood-Miller, Golden Gryphon to Borderlands Press, and NESFA to PS Publishing, and several others. These names cover only a fraction of the small press publishers who’ve produced limited editions in science fiction, fantasy, horror, and a little bit of mystery in the 20th and 21st centuries. Many of these publishers have faded into the mists of time. There are some publishers that I’ve never considered, or never come across. More ardent collectors go for those books. Charnel House is out of my price range, as are some others. In many cases, titles by some of these publishers climb quickly in terms of price on the secondary market, if they are available at all. Collectors, after all, tend to hold on to their prized possessions.

I don’t foresee acquiring all the Subterranean Press books ever published. Then again, as I understand they plan to retire their press sometime in 2027, picking up a book from this publisher is bittersweet. I no longer go to SF conventions, where I’d see some of their books available in the dealers’ room, titles that I’d never expected to find anywhere. Also, there’s no longer a specialist SF bookstore near where I live, so my choices are only two-fold at the moment: stumble across one in a used book store, or find the book online by chance. I don’t seek one out unless it’s by a tiny handful of authors, and apparently those authors no longer have their books published by Subterranean Press (i.e. Tim Powers, James P. Blaylock, and Robert McCammon).

It’s a shame that Subterranean Press is planning to cease operations. They’ve always been a place for variety, not just genres, but authors and formats. From SF to fantasy, horror to mystery, classic writers to modern ones, they covered it all. It’s a sad day for both readers and collectors when they ship the last book from their warehouse.

Charles de Lint’s Medicine Road

Back in the 1990s, a good friend of mine who also was into genre fiction recommended the writer, Charles de Lint. I was more into science fiction books at the time, and not so much fantasy (unless it was books by Jack Vance). Still, under pressure I bought a couple of de Lint’s books. After reading these, I was hooked. I mostly bought paperbacks back then, but in short order I had a baker’s dozen of his books. Most were in great shape, but for a pair of hard-to-find titles I had to set aside my distaste for battered books with broken spines; my copies of Mulengro and The Riddle of the Wren have yet to be replaced by better versions.

Charles de Lint’s books, although marketed as fantasy, aren’t your typical fantasy books. I’ve heard his fiction mentioned as “urban fantasy,” which means you don’t see any swords, dragons, or princesses waiting to be rescued. Yet, there’s magic in his books, shape-shifting, a sense of wonder, a definite mythology, and a strong feeling that you want it to be real.

Not content with just paperbacks, I started buying any de Lint book that I could find. Over time, I’ve acquired 34 of his books, and read almost all of them at least once. He’s seen success with major publishers, and has a loyal fan base. Several of his books have been published by small press publishers, often at a premium. This is especially true of Subterranean Press, which has published almost two dozen of his books. In some cases these books are quite limited (Moonheart comes to mind). In others, they’re published in editions between 1,000 and 2,000 copies. That should be enough to satisfy any de Lint fan.

While the majority of de Lint’s urban fantasy stories take place in his native Canada, blending in Northern-American folklore and European folklore (especially the Celtic variety), he occasionally ventures into south-west regions of America. Medicine Road, published in 2004, moves a pair of characters from his novel, Seven Wild Sisters (Subterranean Press, 2002) into Arizona. Two of the seven sisters from Seven Wild Sisters, Laurel and Bess Dillard, are musicians. As the novel opens they’re in Tucson, as part of their current tour. Where it goes from there, I have yet to discover, as I just acquired the book a few days ago.

Medicine Road was published in two states: a trade hardcover edition, and a signed, leatherbound edition. My trade edition is signed by both de Lint and illustrator, Charles Vess. I like the cover of this edition, and the illustrations from Vess are quite captivating. Vess has illustrated several of de Lint’s books, bringing to life many of de Lint’s characters.

Starting around 2000, I mostly stopped buying a lot of SF and fantasy books, even by authors that I liked, such as de Lint. I’ve started reading some SF and fantasy books again, and de Lint is high on my list. There’s still a dozen Subterranean Press editions of de Lint’s books that I don’t have. Even though many of them were published nearly two decades ago, to me these are “new” books. Some of them are just harder to find than others.

Connie Willis’s The Winds of Marble Arch

Acquiring the Subterranean Press edition of Connie Willis’s short story collection, The Winds of Marble Arch and Other Stories, intersects nicely with a pair my current book collecting goals. First, I’m always on the lookout to find books by Connie Willis. Second, Subterranean Press does a great job with each of their publications, and for any small press aficionado, this is one of the best publishers out there.

For many years I owned just one book by Willis. Up until sometime in 2024, that book sat gathering dust somewhere in my bookshelves. I think I even considered purging it, despite it being a hardcover edition in great shape. I needed more shelf space, and wasn’t sure if I’d ever read it. Then, in 2024 I bought a pair of Willis’s books: the Subterranean Press edition of All Seated on the Ground, and the Ballantine Books edition of All Clear. Although I own just less than 10 percent of Subterranean Press output, these days if I can acquire another one of their books to my library it’s a memorable event.

The Winds of Marble Arch, is a collection of 23 of Willis’s short stories. Published by Subterranean Press back in 2007, this novella may well have been my first foray into Willis’s fiction. I found it quite funny, so I started looking for more of her books. Most are now out of print, so finding any her books has often been challenging.

The Subterranean Press edition of this book is a hefty volume. Within its 700 pages, ranging from short stories to novellas, there’s more than enough short piece of fiction to savor. She’s another person born to write, and I wish I’d started buying her books sooner. Still, discovering another “new” writer is always a great experience.

More Connie Willis books

Many years ago I bought my first Connie Willis book, To Say Nothing of the Dog. Time passed, and I came across a novella of hers called All Seated on the Ground. It was a quick read, but a funny and brilliant story. Since then, I’ve been on the lookout for books by Connie Willis. This weekend I was in Austin, and found a couple of her novels that I didn’t have; well, there was a third, but I am too picky, and as the cover had a long scratch, I reluctantly put it back on the shelf. To be honest, I’ve mainly been looking for Blackout and Doomsday Book. Along the way I’ve come across several unexpected titles, and none have disappointed me so far.

The Road to Roswell (Del Rey, 2023) I started reading this book on the way back from Austin. It’s a funny alien abduction story, starting in the town of Roswell, New Mexico. Roswell is known as a site of an supposedly alien ship crash landing in 1947. I’ve been to Roswell a couple of times on the way to other places, and they do sell their alien landing story as a major part of the town. In this book, which takes place during a wedding at a Roswell alien festival, there’s a real alien kidnapping. I read this book in a couple of sittings. For the most part, I enjoyed it, though I found the ending too abrupt. A note in the book states that Willis is working on another time-travel novel, so that’s some good news.

Crosstalk (Del Rey, 2016) I’d never heard of this book, but it seems to be a take on the burgeoning world of social media. The novel was published in 2016, back when facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. were all the rage, and the rise of influencers dominated media. As such, it’s maybe an attempt to tap into the pulse of the current state of society, and extrapolate this in ways on SF writers are able. So, if I dive into the book, it will be interesting to compare it to the present, a decade after it was published. The world has changed many times since then, but social media and influencers sadly remain a part of it. I found a nice copy of the hardcover edition on my recent Austin trip. Not high on my “To Read” stack, since I don’t care much about social media, though looking back a decade will be strange, given the rise of social media since that time.

All About Emily (Subterranean Press, 2011). A novella, so in essence, a short novel. Illustrated by J. K. Potter. One of a handful of books I recently bought from Lawrence Person’s Lame Excuse Books. This book was limited to 400 signed and numbered copies, plus an unknown number of unsigned copies. My book is signed by Willis, and numbered 176 out of 400. Subterranean Press has published a fair number of Willis’s books, and they always do a bang-up job with each edition.

Tim Powers’ Bible Repairman collection

In 2005 Subterranean Press released a chapbook with Tim Powers’ short story, “The Bible Repairman.” At only 26 pages, it also includes interior illustrations by Powers. I have the second printing, which is marked “Signed second printing.”

A few years later (2011) Tachyon Publications released a trade paperback collection of Powers’ stories, under the aegis of The Bible Repairman and Other Stories.

It collects six stories, plus an introduction by Powers. So, that’s enough, right? Maybe not, for last year I learned that Subterranean Press also published an edition of the same set of stories, also in 2011. This was a hardcover signed and limited edition, published with only 500 numbered and 26 lettered copies. I bought a copy of this edition recently, for $35, not knowing that the book originally was listed for $75.

As I own a handful of Subterranean Press editions of Tim Powers books (but by no means all of them), I was thrilled to have a hardcover replace the trade paperback edition.

Books added: Two more Lansdales

Joe R. Lansdale has written a vast number of books. Subterranean Press has published a fair number of those books. Recently I picked up just my fourth and fifth copies of Lansdale books published by Sub Press—a minuscule number of those books, for sure. The reasons? First: Most of these were published many years ago, and now fetch prices well above the initial listed price. Second: the initial listed prices tended to start around $40, even for copies available in the thousands, vs. hundreds, in terms of “limited editions.” Therefore, I went with the more mass-market publishers when it came to Lansdale’s books. But, if I’m lucky enough to find any within my narrow price range, then why not?

For a Few Stories More, Volume 4 in the Lost Lansdale series, Subterranean Press, 2002.

Initially listed at $40, I paid $22 for this book. Used. Online. From a dealer. Apologies to Mr. Lansdale, who didn’t get a penny from me on this one; I have bought many of your books retail, however, but sometimes there are books offered at prices beyond what I can pay. And, I came late to the party on this one, 23 years late, to be exact.

For a Few Stories More, is the fourth (and last) in a series of “Lost Lansdale” books and short stories. So far I’ve only read the introduction, which is a good one. After I got this book, I looked for books one through three, but those are listed at well beyond what I paid for this one, so I’ll stick with this book for now. My copy is #373 of 1000 signed and numbered copies. I plan on reading these stories shortly. Lansdale’s short fiction packs a punch, and I expect that even his early stories have some weight behind them.


Next up, a book that kept showing up everywhere when I was scrolling through online catalogs and offerings. This copy popped up at a surprisingly low price, so I went for it.

Jane Goes North, Subterranean Press, 2020

Jane Goes North is an amusing road trip of a book. Also originally listed at $40, I was able to get this one for $20. My copy is #88 of 2000 signed and numbered copies. The protagonist, Jane, lives in East Texas. She’s just been fired from a low-paying job, and gets invited to a sister’s wedding just outside Boston. Determined to make it to the wedding despite being almost broke, she teams up with a stranger, Henrietta aka Henry, an anti-social woman with a wandering eye. Henry has a working car, and Jane is willing to drive.

Along the way they meet up with a collection of bizarre people, including a pair of dollar store thieves, some back-woods slavers, and a country musician who now makes her living playing in bars along the east coast, while fighting off sexism and owners reluctant to pay her anything. In typical Lansdale fashion, characters over-share information, but Jane preservers. She has grit, determination, and I ended up rooting for her despite all her dubious decisions. The ending surprised me somewhat, and perhaps there’s a sequel in there somewhere.

Book added: A Pair of Lansdales

Joe R. Lansdale has written (and continues to write) a ton of books. I buy them as I find them, which these days isn’t often.

Radiant Apples is a novella published by Subterranean Press in 2021. I found this book online, listed for $20 plus tax and shipping. It’s a slim book—in effect, the kind of book you can read in one sitting. The main character is Nat Love, who previously appeared in the novel, Paradise Sky. My copy is number 301 of 1,500 signed and numbered copies, originally published for $40 in 2021.

Nat Love is now in his 50s, a porter on the Pullman railway in north-east Texas. A train robbery and murder sets him on a quest, and he recruits an old friend as he chases these robbers into Oklahoma from Texas. It appears to be set in 1919, but feels like an old Western from the previous century. Lansdale tones down some of his usual banter, but not by much. Overall it’s a good read, and I think it would be cool to see more stories with Nat Love. That might be tough, however, as between Paradise Sky and this book he got married, had kids, and gave up much of his old life. A glance at Lansdale bibliography told me there were some other Nat Love stories, which led me to the next acquisition.

Fishing for Dinosaurs, also published by Subterranean Press (2020), is a collection of five novellas. It includes “Black Hat Jack,” an earlier Nat Love novella. “Black Hat Jack” previously was published as a separate book (just like Radiant Apples) way back in 2014 by Subterranean Press. It’s cannibalized into this collection (along with another Lansdale novella that also came out by Sub Press), which saved me from having to hunt down the older novella.

Each of the stories is introduced by another writer: Robin Hobb for “Black Hat Jack,” plus Poppy Z. Brite, Richard Chizmar, David J. Schow, and Norman Partridge for the other stories. My copy is number 660 out of 2,500 signed and numbered books, also bought for $20 online, as I’m a few years late from the original publication event, and the book is sold out from the publisher. An edition of 2,500 seems like a lot for a “signed, limited edition,” but, as I care more about the stories than the rarity of the book, I don’t mind. However, I do wish I’d known about it sooner, as I feel guilty that Lansdale isn’t getting a cent from my purchase.

In terms of the other stories, “The Ape Man’s Brother” was published as an eBook and hardcover edition by Subterranean Press. “Prisoner 489″ was published by Dark Regions Press as a lettered edition, a limited edition hardcover, and trade paperback. From what I can tell, the other two stories—”Sixty-Eight Barrels on Treasure Lake,” and the title story—are collected here for the first time, though “Fishing for Dinosaurs” first appeared in 2014 in Limbus Inc. Book II. I may be wrong, as although I own 44 Lansdale books, this is but a fraction of his output.

From the introduction by Lansdale, I learned there are some other Nat Love stories floating around somewhere, and maybe they will turn up in a collection, and maybe I’ll eventually read them.

Books added: a pair of Charles de Lint Books

I recently missed out on a bid for a set of nearly a dozen of Charles de Lint’s Subterranean Press books. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, since I already owned five out of the books in that lot. Still, I’ll admit that it was somewhat disappointing, as the rest were ones that I really wanted.

I always have a hard limit on auctions, which means that I lose out on quite a few of them. I guess that now I need to acquire those books one by one instead. However, looking at de Lint’s bibliography, I doubt that I’ll ever be able to acquire all his books, so I’ll take them as I find them. Then again, I did find a pair recently at decent prices, so here goes…

First up, The Onion Girl. Published in 2009 by Subterranean Press, and limited to 500 signed/numbered copies plus 26 lettered copies. It’s a hefty book, clocking in at just over 500 pages. The cover is gorgeous, yet the story hits at darkness. I recently read another book that featured the same main character, so at some point I know I’ll be drawn into this book.

Next, Seven Sisters Wild. Another Subterranean Press book, this one published in 2002. This is the signed hardcover edition, with signatures from both de Lint and illustrator, Charles Vess. It’s a novella, only 152 pages long, and beautifully illustrated by Vess.

All in all, this still leaves at least 20 of de Lint’s books that I don’t have, compared to the 32 that I have. That first number’s probably fuzzy, based on an old bibliography. Still, 20 seems like a massive number. Many of these books are hard to find, or when listed somewhere, fetch premium prices. A few of the so-called “missing” books I have in beat up paperback editions. I do want better copies, though. Others, I don’t have, and want to read.

Sometimes, though, I think you have to be in the right mindset, or the right age or the right timeframe, to read certain books. I recently re-read Moonheart and liked it, but when I tried to read Eyes Like Leaves, written around the same time as Moonheart, I struggled and gave up—at least, for now. Maybe Eyes was too similar to Moonheart. Maybe it jumped around too much for me to fasten onto the plot and characters. Maybe I’m just a different person from back when this book was published Still, I hope de Lint keep writing fiction, despite his recent personal tragedies. Then again, maybe he’s said all that he wants to say, at least when it comes to fiction. It won’t be the first time that’s happened to an author.

Books added: Link, O’Brien, Reamy

Kelly Link has published several short story collections, such as Magic for Beginners, Get in Trouble, Stranger Things Happen, and others. The Book of Love is her first novel, as far as I’m aware. I picked this up in a local bookstore, having enjoyed reading several of her short stories.

It’s a hefty book, clocking in at over 600 pages, which is a massive step up for someone known more for short fiction. The copy that I bought is apparently a second printing, which is a good sign for Link, especially since it was released in this year. There’s an OCD element in me that kicks myself for not checking to see if it was a first edition, but what the heck.

Checking the list of publications, I see that I’ve missed two books: Pretty Monsters, and White Cat, Black Dog. There was a big gap between Get in Trouble (2016), the last collection of hers that I have, and White Cat, Black Dog (2023). Not sure how I missed that book, as Link’s one of those current writers of short fiction that always brings interesting things to light.


At the same book store where I bought the Link novel, I saw a pair of books by Tim O’Brien. I almost bought one, called The Things They Carried, until I learned that my wife already had a copy. The other book was the trade paperback edition of America Fantastica, his latest novel. Running short on time as we needed to be somewhere else, I made a mental note to return to that store for the book. However, that same night I went to another bookstore, and found a hardback first edition of the same novel.

This is O’Brien’s first novel in two decades, which in an of itself is an amazing fact. A glance at the cover’s synopsis reminds me of the novels of Neal Barrett, Jr. I’ve not read anything by O’Brien, but I was looking to try new things and his name had cropped up recently when discussing current American fiction with someone.


The name Tom Reamy has cropped up now and then recently in collections by other writers. Several other writers who knew Reamy praised him as a writer with great promise. Reamy died at the age of 42, in 1977, while working away at a story on his typewriter, which is the quintessential writer’s death. I don’t think I’ve seen any copies of his books in new or used book stores over the years, and I bought this one online.

Under the Hollywood Sign is a collection of most of Reamy’s stort stories, published in a limited edition of 750 copies by Subterranean Press in 2023. It collects stories from his 1978 collection, San Diego Lightfoot Sue and Other Stories, plus two others. A novel, Blind Voices, was published posthumously. One of the stories apparently had been sold to Harlan Ellison’s ill-fated anthology, The Last Dangerous Visions. While many of the stories that originally sold to Ellison for that book were withdrawn, the book itself finally was published this year, edited by J. Michael Straczynski. JMS is known more for Babylon 5, but as the executor of Ellison’s estate, is on a mission to bring Ellison’s fiction and legacy back into the public eye.

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