Casual Debris Presents: An Introduction to the Alfred Hitchcock Anthologies

As a companion to this essay, I am attempting a bibliography of the Alfred Hitchcock anthologies, a work in progress which can be accessed at Casual Debris Presents: the Alfred Hitchcock Anthology Bibliography.

Here is a preliminary overview of the anthologies.


In 1945 Alfred Hitchcock was approached by Dell to put together and introduce an anthology of suspense stories which was published as Suspense Stories Collected by Alfred Hitchcock, and reprinted several times with different titles over the next few years. It was an odd mishmash of stories, but despite being a little all over the place it proved successful, and in about a decade Hitchcock would find himself marketed to the extreme. In 1946 Dell Books released the follow-up Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Bar the Doors, arguably the best of all the first series of anthologies borrowing his name. By the end of 1949 a total of six books were published, followed by a hiatus that lasted until 1957.

In 1955 CBS helped launch what was to become among the most successful and longest-running television anthology dramas, Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Hitchcock himself directed the first episode, "Revenge," and three more episodes for the opening season. December of 1956 saw the first issue of the still-running Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, and soon the anthologies were revamped full force. In 1957 one of the more popular anthologies was published by Simon & Schuster: Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories They Wouldn't Let Me Do on TV, ghost edited by Robert Arthur. (It became so popular that not only was it extensively reprinted over the years, the network backed away and allowed him to "do" many of the included stories.) These three ventures became intertwined. The magazine published original suspense stories, the television show adapted many of them, and the anthologies eventually became reprint venues for the magazine stories.

Among the writers who benefited from this trio of projects was the prolific Robert Bloch, whose short stories were frequently published in the magazine, and eventually adapted, many by his own hand, for the television show (a total of ten episodes for the original series and seven more for the extended Alfred Hitchcock Hour). It was perhaps through this collaboration that Hitchcock later came across the 1959 novel Psycho, the rights of which he quickly purchased. (In fact he also went ahead and purchased as many copies of the book he could find just so that his potential audience would be less likely to know the ending to his film adaptation.)

Another writer to benefit was Henry Slesar, who wrote several teleplays for a variety of shows throughout the 1960s, including Batman and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Slesar had a record thirty-six teleplays or adaptations for AHP, with ten more for AHH, as well as one for the 1985 AHP remake pilot and three for the actual show. His stories were so adaptable and many of them well adapted indeed, that two paperback collections of his adapted stories were published under Hitchcock's name: Alfred Hitchcock Handpicks and Introduces A Bouquet of Clean Crimes and Neat Murders (NY: Avon, 1960) and Alfred Hitchcock Introduces A Crime for Mothers and Others (NY: Avon, 1962).

The anthologies were published in the US and the UK, successful on both sides of the ocean, but the magazine fared well only in the US. The British version lasted eleven issues, from September 1957 to August 1958 (no issue appeared in July), and later for five issues between May and September 1967. The Australian version, titled Alfred Hitchcock's Suspense Magazine, was published in 1957 and 1958, though I haven't yet been able to figure how many issues were printed, since it appeared to have gone through a reincarnation or revamping of sorts after #11.

In the 1960s the Hitchcock anthologies broadened in scope, with Robert Arthur, creator and author of the first Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators books, hired by Random House to ghost edit some truly fine alliterative young adult collections, from A Haunted Houseful and Sinister Spies, to Monster Museum and Daring Detectives; it was actually his Spellbinders in Suspense that helped transform me into an avid reader as a child. Arthur also ghost edited some adult books, including the popular Stories They Wouldn't Let Me Do on TV, Stories My Mother Never Told Me, Stories that Scared Even Me and Stories for Late at Night. He received a note in each of these ("The editor gratefully acknowledges the invaluable assistance of Robert Arthur in the preparation of this volume"), though it was many years after his death that the extent of his "assistance" (i.e. he did everything) was made public.

Another ghost editor in the mid-sixties was British anthologist Peter Haining, who ghosted a handful of collections for Pan Books in the UK. The only other person I am aware to have ghosted one of these anthologies is Harold Q. Masur, who put together the 1973 Stories to Be Read with the Lights On. This may have been a result of the unfortunate passing of Robert Arthur in 1969.

Throughout the 1960s and 1970s the adult anthologies were being published regularly, and each ran through various reprints. An annual hardcover anthology appeared and was reprinted as two separate paperbacks, first with the original titles or variations of, as well as completely different titles. (For instance, Stories for Late at Night was published as 12 Stories for..., More Stories for..., and later on simply as Skeleton Crew.) Other collections were retitled after minor changes were made, such as Suspense Stories which, with the addition of another story, became 14 Suspense Stories to Play Russian Roulette By, and later 14 of My Favorites in Suspense; these are all the same book.

The early anthologies were excellent works, especially those ghosted by Robert Artur, who selected a truly wide array of short stories, novelettes and even novels of a variety of genres and styles. By the 1957 revamping of these books, Hitchcock himself had little to do with the publications (by little I mean nothing, as I suspect that even the brief introductions were ghost written; there is a distinct difference in approach and tone with those published in the 1940s, and let's remember, Arthur himself was well practiced in putting words in Hitchcock's mouth, since he made the director a character in his Three Investigators series). It is truly unfortunate that Arthur never gained the recognition as a first-rate editor, though I am certain he enjoyed his career, working not only on these books but on his own writing and on the scripts for the AHP television show.

By the 1970s the annual hardcover publications became reprints of more recent work, primarily from the most widely read mystery magazines of the time: Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, The Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine. Soon the anthologies would become straightforward reprint venues for the magazine. Davis Publications, through their Dial Press imprint, published annual and sometimes bi-annual (it peaked as a quarterly in 1983) numbered anthologies which were essentially "best of" the magazine selections from the previous year. These were initially edited by then magazine editor Eleanor Sullivan (claimant of the first non-ghosted Hitchcock anthology) and later Cathleen Jordan; the first was published in 1976. By then the magazine had been publishing monthly for twenty years and had accumulated enough material to print any number of anthologies reserved for only AHMM stories; some stories even re-appeared in many of these collections so that the books were truly less than unique.

The late 1970s brought about a new era in presenting these works, with the hardcover editions employing titles along the lines of Tales to Take Your Breath Away, Tales to Keep You Spellbound, Tales to Scare You Stiff and so on, while their softcover counterparts were simply numbered, beginning with Alfred Hitchcock's Anthology #1, though later had their own, less clever, subtitles, along the lines of Death-Reach, Fear and Borrowers of the Night. I'm not yet sure when the hardcover editions stopped printing, but the numbered anthology publications ceased in 1989 with Anthology #27: Murder & Other Mishaps. Furthermore, these works were no longer ghost edited though still introduced by "Alfred Hitchcock" (sometimes bearing his signature in print).

It is really the covers and the titles and the publishing phenomenon that make these books nice collectibles. While the hardcovers are not terribly interesting the look at, the paperback incarnations are fantastic, especially those published by Dell. Many are fairly easy to find since they've been printed and re-printed over the years, and some have several editions with their own unique covers that, sad as it might appear to some, I own different editions of the same books. Overall the contents vary from good classic and modern reprints to the generic magazine entries, and some of these tend to be tiresome. However, it is a great consequence that some fine, forgotten and never really known authors were included in these books, including McKnight Malmar and John Keefauver, whose original and excellent short stories, such as "The Storm" and "A Pile of Sand," can be (re)discovered. Finally, Robert Arthur provided us with one of the best suspense anthologies ever compiled, with Stories for Late at Night.


[Note: It is frustratingly difficult to find accurate information on these publications, so much of what I have put together here is educated speculation, which means it sounds valid but could be utterly incorrect. Anyone with information to share, please do so; comment or for anonymity email me at casual.debris@gmail.com.]

Shock Totem #1 (2009)

Shock Totem: Curious Tales of the Macabre and Twisted. Eds. K. Allen Wood and Michelle Howarth. Seattle: Shock Totem Publications, July 2009. 100 pages.

Shock Totem website

Review of Shock Totem 2

Shock Totem at Goodreads

Overall rating:     7/10

K. Allen Wood's introduction to the inaugural issue of Shock Totem: Curious Tales of the Macabre and Twisted, titled "Stronger than Friction," is a good read (despite the awkward title) on the processes that led up to publication. Shock Totem was initially conceived of as an e-zine, later a mass market magazine until finally (picturing it on a shelf alongside Glimmer Train and Black Gate as opposed to in a pile beside the toilet) it was decided that Shock Totem would aim to be a higher quality glossy publication. A number of titles were considered, from the downright laughable Papercut Stigmata to the bland Shades & Shadows; Shock Totem, on the other hand, is quite an effective title, and the glossy format is elegant, with truly unique cover art by Norwegian graphic designer and illustrator Robert Hoyem.

I purchased a copy shortly after publication but was unable to read it cover to cover, uninterrupted, the way I would most journals. This was odd because, honestly, this was a very good read. It was when I read the first issue of Dark Moon Digest in just two or three evenings that I realized what prevented me from speeding through Shock Totem and instead leaving it on the pile of currently reading (sadly, a very large pile) material beside my desk; it was the interior design. The borders are fine and I do like the font style, but the font size is tiny, something I'm used to only when reading old, yellowed editions of the classics, or older paperbacks in general. Normally I would pick up something like Shock Totem when not in the mood for a bulky classic, and there was something of a flow-over effect so that I ended up reading a story every week or so. (Minor quibble, I know, and wholly subjective, but that currently reading pile is just plain ridiculous.)

The publication is quite diverse. There are three author interviews, with John Skipp, Alan Robert and William Ollie, the last which includes an excerpt of a forthcoming novel, KillerCon. There are also a few pages of brief book, movie and music reviews, and it was nice to see some older work reviewed: Daniel Cohen's Monsters, Giants and Little Men from Mars. There is also a brief end page nicely titled "Howling through the Keyhole," which includes notes on each story by their authors. This is an informative bookend companion to the introduction, and generally I am a sucker for such information. These extras are all nice additions, balancing the fiction quite well, and each being quite short so they don't distract from the stories.

And as for the stories... The overall fiction content seems to prefer some element of fantasy, and all but two stories function on the basis of a strong fantastical element. This is risky since fantasy can often ruin a good story and, personally, it is a genre I enjoy only when integrated with the real world, as Rod Serling's Twilight Zone did so well. In most cases the fantasy is well presented and does not drown its story's intent or intervene with its characters. Despite this continuity in genre, the editors chose well and present a wide range of story type and writing style, with stories ranging from competitive stuffed animals to zombie love, paranoia and baseball. There is only one weak entry but also a stand-out story worthy of a future reprint. Overall the selections are above average, and I commend the editors for making the inaugural issue of the bi-annual publication something worth picking up. I've since ordered the second issue and just hope I can read it at least within a week.


The Music Box by T.L. Morganfield     7/10
A good lead-in story about a pair of stuffed animals competing for a boy's attention. Snowflake the elephant was father's childhood favourite while Boo Bear was mother's. What works here is that it's not just the animals that are in competition, but the parents' own unhealthy relationship is highlighted in their efforts to thrust upon their only child a part of their individual pasts. Troubled and unable to face their problems, it is the tensions in their relationship that manifest themselves in this competition. The father has an advantage for, long ago, Snowflake had revealed to him the secret of stuffed animals: they are sentient, have acute feelings and are able to enact horrible acts of vengeance. Of course, it's all for love.

'Til Death Do Us Part by Jennifer Pelland     6/10
A piece of flash fiction, lightly entertaining.

Murder for Beginners by Mercedes M. Yardley     4/10
A comedy about women who are indifferent to a sleaze they've just killed. This was the one that did not work for me; I found it contrived and dull, the humour forced and the narrative lacking in suspense. Perhaps this one needed some element of fantasy to elevate it from the ordinary. In the endnotes Yardley mentions that writing the story required no labour, and I believe her.

First Light by Les Berkley     6/10
Well written zombie modern world western love story. It is a "quiet" story, its prose elegant and flowing, like sitting by a river and watching it flow past. Though I like to see stories investing emotion over plot, I felt that something was missing here. This feeling of absence is likely the effect of the writing, which at times might be reaching too far into the realm of sentiment. It is nonetheless a good read.

Complexity by Don D'Ammassa     7/10
A taught, suspenseful story of a software programmer with a persecution complex. The details are excellent, enough to make the story vivid without tiring the reader, and piled so nicely and so high that I felt I couldn't read fast enough to figure out what was actually going on. I liked the lengthy day-to-day description, the patience in the telling, information withheld (though not unfairly) and revealed through the character's background. There is also an excellent ironic element in the character's having unleashed the source of his paranoia onto himself. The ending becomes evident a page or so before we arrive, but the trip is nonetheless worth taking. Though the ending makes it clear whether or not the paranoia is justified, there is still that token element of ambiguity.

Below the Surface by Pam L. Wallace     5/10
It's the fantasy that killed this one for me. Competently written tale of two sisters, one the queen of a realm and mother of the future king, the other spiteful and jealous who wishes to share in her sister's good fortune. The opening dialogue is patiently composed, a tight read that progresses nicely with the sinister sister trying to convince the younger naive one that she should become the king's second wife, allowing the queen to rest and recover from two recent miscarriages. Then someone dies and a ghost appears and my interest went out for a walk. The second half is essentially a chase sequence with little tension since we know exactly how the sentimental tale will be resolved. Too bad.

Slider by David Niall Wilson     6/10
Wilson was the only author in the collection I recall having previously encountered. A year or two ago I read "Blameless" which appeared in the somewhat disappointing posthumous Robert Bloch edited anthology Robert Bloch's Psychos (Cemetery Dance, 1997). The anthology was uneven, and though it included some fine stories, "Blameless" was not among the good ones. I am pleased, however, that "Slider" had me hooked. On the surface it is a tale of baseball, and though I know little about the sport, Wilson's detailed but not overdone telling makes it quite intriguing. The historical aspect and the unusual pitching circumstance make baseball interesting. It helps that the story is well written. The ending is the weakest part of the tale, and it appears Wilson himself was more interested in the history and the circumstance than in the plot; the story is primarily constructed around a conversation and tightly woven into a single event. It does not ruin the story, but covers it with enough haze to mar its stronger aspects.

The Dead March by Brian Rappatta     8/10
The strongest story in the collection. A troubled boy from a dysfunctional family within a dysfunctional trailer park society has an unusual affinity with death. Not only can he sense when someone is about to die, he can also raise the dead. This story is about life as much as it is about death. The world depicted is one of living zombies, of families and individuals who maintain existence rather than live. Written in a straight-edged style, at times gruesome and even oddly and darkly comic, the story manages also to be somewhat touching. The society that Rappatta has created is one I would re-visit, even with different characters and circumstances. (As I mentioned above this one's worthy of a reprint, and John Joseph Adams should consider this one if he is planning on a third installment of the Night Shade Books series The Living Dead.)

Thirty-Two Scenes from a Dead Hooker's Mouth by Kurt Newton     6/10
The tragic story of a prostitute, told backwards beginning from her death. There is no linear story, no surprise at the end to tie it all together, just a straightforward backward telling (yes, forward backward). Very well written with some strong imagery make this entry a worthy read.

Dark Moon Digest #1 (October 2010)

Dark Moon Digest #1, October 2010. Edited by Stan Swanson, Florida: Stony Meadow Publishing. 109 pages

Website: darkmoondigest.com
Visit the Goodreads listing

Inaugural magazine issues are important not because of the quality of fiction and articles they contain, but because of the kind of trend they are attempting to establish. Readers can hope that the quality of the writing will improve as the magazine gains a wider audience, but the magazine's style remains mostly unchanged in its course to garner readership, otherwise its concept is flawed at the core. With so many publications available, it's nice when something fresh or different comes along. I was for the most pleased when I received my copy of Dark Moon Digest, a new publication from Stony Meadow Publishing. The glossy publication does feel fresh, and primarily due to its classic pulp approach.

The first issue of is good, better than I had expected it would be. I have little faith in new genre publications since there appears to be a sudden increase in the number of small press anthologies being published, and having perused through a few I find that, despite some nice artwork, the fiction is uninspired. I do like to purchase first issues of new magazines both as a collector and as a supporter of new fiction, and from the little buzz I encountered I expected a low-cost, cheap little thing. Frugally produced, yes, but definitely not cheap. I like the glossy cover: the stock photo is well rendered. The inner pages are well designed, simple and easy on the eye, reminiscent of early pulp mags and comics with their call for submissions and letters to the editor notices boxed in the leftover spaces. The tiny photos for each story are a nice touch, and the fillers are amusing, everything from quotes by Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King, to contest results (though no mention of what these contests were about) and "best of" poll results (though I can't find the logic with a modern horror novel being selected among the top five all-time horror novels while not making the list of the top five modern horror novels). In a highly competitive market Dark Moon Digest feels fresh, and if nothing else it has at least set the tone for a publication that will involve its reader (note all the calls for submission as well as for feedback) and, stories aside, be considerably fun.

There were some oddities that caught my eye: the cover lists story and article titles rather than author names, and while the authors are not well established and wouldn't catch anyone's eye, story titles mean little no matter who wrote them (though I admit "The Skunk Ape" did make me blink). Moreover, this magazine is sold online and not in a magazine shop, so the cover does not need to try to sell the issue beside any competitors. I would have liked to have seen include better copy-editing. There are some typos (excusable) but several instances of faulty grammar and awkward sentence construction immediately make the publication appear less professional. Perhaps I'm old fashioned, but while I can (if in the mood) forgive bad editing online, I cringe when I see it on the printed page. The second thing I would have liked to see is a different kind of introduction. Editor & publisher Stan Swanson provides a truly brief opening reminiscent of those often ghost-penned Alfred Hitchcock introductions that aim to poke and tease rather than inform. While this is not a fault in the publication, I would have preferred something along the lines of K. Allen Wood's introduction to Shock Totem's 2009 inaugural issue, which developed the magazine's evolution to print, and even a little about the included work. There is something personal about Wood's approach, which is truly ironic since Dark Moon Digest appears a friendlier work, despite the more distanced editorial approach.

Dark Moon Digest #1 contains seven original short stories, one reprint, three articles, one book review and some poetry. It promises in the future (there is a COMING IN ISSUE #2 notice on the back cover) to include longer works as well as a graphic novel and "Carnivorous Cartoons" (an alliteration that, if you think about it, doesn't make much sense. But I digress). Overall I would recommend it, if only to help it become a better publication. Both print and electronic copies are available, and cheaper than a quick lunch at a fast-food outlet.

The classic reprint is Charlotte Perkins Gilman's 1892 psychological drama "The Yellow Wallpaper." While I think it is a strong story it is also over-published. I like the idea of classic reprints and hope that the magazine will continue to print them, but I'd recommend they seek out less recognizable works and avoid following Gilman up with, say, W.W. Jacobs's "The Monkey's Paw" or any of Edgar Allan Poe's more famous works. Of course "The Yellow Wallpaper" is a safe bet for the first issue, and I am curious as to what is on tap for the follow-up. I do, however, like the inclusion of background information; it's a considerate touch. Another reason why Gilman's story works here is that along with a previously unpublished feminist examination of masculine control, it book-ends the magazine nicely.


"Slut" by Erin K. Coughlin. A teen-aged girl and her family are being controlled by an unseen, seemingly demonic admirer. A good story and an interesting, somewhat abstract take on the stalking phenomenon. It is well written with an even tone and simple structure. I am not sure if it is the best lead-in story simply because of its thematic weight, but as I mention above it does nicely to bookend "The Yellow Wallpaper." While "Slut" begins as a suspenseful stalker piece, it transforms into a teenager's personal journey to womanhood (though at the expense of her family). It is a feminist statement about identity and control in an indifferent society; the girl is being continually defined by her unseen tormentor (society, really) in one of two distinct categories, slut or Darling (with the capital D), depending on her actions. When behaving as the stalker insists (or as society deems proper) she is Darling, while any show of independence renders her slut. The story could have gone in many directions and I do like the ambiguity of the anticipated showdown. A good story, it's first fault lies in the title. I would recommend something along the lines of "obedience" or something evoking control, or even the duality of slut/Darling. The second flaw is that it is at times over-written: "A thick gust hit me, as if he'd blown a whistle." Not sure what the intent is with that sentence but it's a little nonsensical. 7/10

"Jack and Jill" by C. W. LaSart. While "Slut" dealt with issues of patriarchal control, in "Jack and Jill" it is the woman who controls the man. Obsessed with the woman he encounters at a bar one night, succubus-like she seduces him, and soon Jack finds himself responsible for providing for her unnatural needs. Unlike "Slut" this is a fairly straightforward horror story, and while not terribly original it works well within its concept. "Jack and Jill" is better in whole than in its individual part. No individual scene feels new, no technical element is a challenge, yet taken as a whole it works quite nicely. Surprisingly we discover that the story is not just about a man trapped beneath the spell of a supernatural evil, but is in reality trapped by his own impotence, his inability to take control of the situation and make a drastic change. Though Jack insists that he is living a modern hell, it is clear that he has ample opportunity to free himself from his shackles, and nonetheless continues with his role as provider. The last line plays very nicely, and even gave me a little chill. This is one of the stories that is unfortunately marred by the weak copy-editing. Re-worked, shortened a little and properly edited, this could work well in an anthology. 6/10

"Moon Medicine" by Christopher Leppek & Emanuel Isler. The most striking aspect of this story is the inane writing. I can't abide by self-indulgent comments such as "I'm glad she really can't read my mind. Not a place most want to go," and "Vengeance dies hard." This is silly and alienating, the authors trying too hard to create a rough and grizzled narrator, a retired homicide veteran tough guy wallowing in past exploits and grumbling about how he knows pain and has seen every kind of death. I'm surprised he didn't start barking. To be fair the idea is neat and could have worked, but the story comes off as a series of coincidences. The retired detective is reminiscing about an unsolved case and guess what: he gets re-entangled with that past. He reminisces about someone who had mysteriously disappeared, and guess what: ... This artificial form of story-telling is not terribly fair to the reader. 3/10

"Remaining Zheng" by Corey Kellgren. Now this was a good story. Original, well written and overall a pleasure to read. During the construction of what has eventually become know as The Great Wall of China, soldiers encounter a group of diseased men who live in a commune in the path of the steadily rising wall. These men, essentially living dead, request that the wall bypass their home, or else. The troop leader Zheng Sanbao is a man of honour with a patriotic duty bound in seeing that construction progresses as his homeland has ordered it, and this sense of honour is being challenged as much as the wall's intended route. (Incidentally, San Bao is a practice in kung fu that attempts to unify the self with body and mind, making it a great choice for the character's name.) 7/10 (though I could be talked into an eight)

"Skunk Ape" by Nicholas Conley. A fun read about some friends who discover the body of an odd-looking creature. The suspense is good though the characters are generic and the prose could have used some tightening. I liked the idea of the skunk ape but would also have liked more detail about the legend. Less focus on the violence and broken bodies and more on the element of unknown would have improved the story and its inherent mystery, and the ending is a little too simple and convenient. 6/10

"The Interrogation of John Walker" by Jay Wilburn. Another fine story. Over two thousand days into a zombie holocaust, a group of soldiers find an autistic boy who has mysteriously survived the epidemic. The story is well written, suspenseful and generates an interesting kind of threat, successfully painting a tired society in which everyone is a victim. Of all the stories listed here, this is the one that continued to dwell in my thoughts. 7/10

"Darkest Before Dawn" by Kevin McClintock. A weak title and a slow start are unfortunate factors to a good story about a strange menace that comes to a suburban neighbourhood following a nasty cold spell. This one is similar to Stephen King's novella "The Mist" in that the threat appears mysteriously following a storm, remains a completely unexplained foreign element, and the story ends in a similar vein. Nonetheless it is its own story and I thought the black menace quite interesting. I would think, however, that a slow-moving threat would have left the world ample time to declare Marshal Law and evacuate the town, or at least would imagine that the couple we are experiencing the threat with do have some friends or acquaintances who might at some point during the storm weekend communicated with them in some way (this is the age of communication, is it not?). Despite these thoughts intuding throughout the story I did like it, but think with some more work it could have been a better addition to Issue #2. 6/10

The non-fiction entries are not as good as the fiction. The book review by Don Webb (Black Wings, edited by S.T. Joshi, PS Publishing) fails to give an in-depth overview and spends a quarter of its two pages listing the contents. I would have preferred more analysis and if curious could have found the contents online. I am pleased, however, that they chose to review something by such a quality publisher rather than resort to the generic paperback.

"Chattering Bones: A Brief History of Zombies" by Manny Frishberg gives an overview of zombie fiction, making a couple of glaring errors along the way. For instance, claiming that 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later are the best among "decaying-corpses-come-back-to-life films," when the movies are actually about living people getting infected with a "rage" virus. He finishes the article by claiming that "not even cable networks have premiered any live-action series featuring" zombies, when in the same month of release of this issue appeared the long-awaited first episode of AMC's series "The Walking Dead," based on Robert Kirkman's graphic series published by Image Comics, adapted for AMC by Frank Darabont.

In "From the Dark: Demonic Children," Jeremiah Dutch attempts to reconcile his birth decade with the rise of demonic children in film. The better column of the bunch, it nonetheless avoids to mention earlier incarnations of demonic children, everything from "Village of the Damned" to "The Bad Seed" and even Jerome Bixby's still haunting 1953 short story "It's a Good Life," filmed for The Twilight Zone in 1961. Furthermore, he claims to disagree with assertions made by Neil Howe and William Strauss in their book 13th Gen: Abort, Retry, Ignore, Fail?, but does not replace their claims with any of his own. A good idea which needs a couple of more pages to develop and a few more theories tossed into the bowl.

Finally, Assistant Editor Michael O'Neal's end-piece, "Under the Basement Stairs: Shadow Soul," is somewhat pointless.

I do like the addition of horror-related non-fiction, but it must be interesting, and combining the space of seven pages into a single essay would allow one column to delve into detail about a particular subject rather than three that only skim the surface.

My criticism of the non-fiction is overall a minor qualm since these columns (appropriately titled; they are not articles in the true sense) take up a total of nine pages. I would still recommend that the genre supporter lend their support to Dark Moon Digest as I do believe in a year or so it could turn out to be quite the contender.

Andrew Cowan, Pig (1994)

Cowan, Andrew. Pig. London: Michael Joseph, 1994.

______. New York: Harcourt Brace & Co., 1994. (pictured below)
______. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1995.
______. SanDiego: Harvest Books, 1997.
______. London: Sceptre, 2002. (my edition, pictured right)

Pig at Goodreads

Pig at IBList

Rating:     7/10



Following the death of his grandmother and his grandfather's removal to a retirement home, fifteen year-old Danny decides to take care of the aging pig that once belonged to his gran. With the help of his Indian girlfriend Surinder, Danny spends the summer caring for the pig as well as for his grandparents' land.

Pig is a tightly-written novel. It is constructed with economy and sensitivity, and is a true pleasure to read. The lack of a straightforward plot kept me at a distance for the first eighty or so pages, but I eventually grew involved with Danny, his relationship with Surinder and his grandparents' land. To a greater extent, even, I was mesmerized by the ravaged rural Scottish landscape.

The novel is set in an unnamed rural region, a once-prospering farmland, later industrial area that has become completely dilapidated. The farming region was bought out by industry, the land promising to yield a prosperous gain of mineral ore. When the land is revealed to contain a mass of useless clay, industry backs away and the remaining stripped farmlands are reduced to decay. At one point Danny is pulling the overgrown vegetables and weeds from his grandparents' land and remarks to Surinder that unattended the land grows wild; this is telling in that the soil is perfect for farming and it was industry that has ruined these fields. Quoting to Danny from her schoolbooks, Surinder tells him that the Victorian era saw a Scotland with a housing problem, an overpopulated land that saw houses overfilled, people pressed into any available quarter, the poor sewage overflowing and causing dysentery, a scene worse than anything she herself had seen in India. Though an unpleasant portrait, it nonetheless shows a land prosperous and filled with life, while Surinder and Danny can ride their bikes for miles without seeing a single soul.

Meanwhile the neighbouring towns are made up of run-down compound buildings overseen by a bureaucratic and unsympathetic housing system. The dingier, run-down flats are meted out to Indian and Pakistani residents. Racism is a problem in this region stuck in the past. Surinder is harassed as is Danny, by association. The two have become outsiders: the land shutting them out with their "No Trespassing" notices and the rough men that are continuously turning them away. Surinder cannot abide by a family whose only hope for her is a future filled with babies while she is seeking knowledge and a better, modern life. Danny's family sees his investment in the pig as wasted time, while his brother sits at home, drinking and refusing to do anything beyond the hoovering. The only person in Danny's family not mired in local inertia is his grandfather, who sits in a Home pining for his lost wife.

Surinder and Danny are sneaking about, facing challenges not only in farm work, the unwelcoming landscape and a region beaten down by constant rains, but also in their juvenile and innocent relationship. Cowan's quiet portrayal of this youthful union is strikingly real as the two are often awkward and clumsy, unable to express any level of emotion through anything but their clumsy gestures.

The novel's one real fault is in its distracting details. While many scenes are vividly and economically rendered, there are many others that are overly detailed. It becomes intrusive and can be irritating. These unnecessary details can be anything from the point a character might be staring at, to the fact that he or she is wiping the table, sloshing some tea. It reads as though the author was trying to add an extra thousand words to the manuscript.

Despite this minor qualm, Pig is a tight, well-written novel whose landscape is alone worth the investment. I was surprised by the lukewarm reviews I read on Goodreads, most emphasizing the strong writing but criticizing the lack of a linear plot. Many seem less than pleased with the comparison to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, and I suppose that comparison, from a New York Times review, has unintentionally damaged the novel. Yes, there are elements of awakening adolescence, but the comparison is not terribly apropos.

Cowan's Pig is a surprisingly good find, and I hope that the novel finds a greater audience.

Some thoughts on Jupiter Moon (1990)

I have become addicted to Jupiter Moon.

Jupiter Moon is a UK science fiction soap opera produced in 1990 airing three times a week. It was dropped after about 150 episodes, though only 108 were initially aired. The show was set on Ilea, a space university in permanent orbit above Space City, Callisto moon, in the year 2050. The show was created and produced by William Smethurst. For a brief overview, see the wikipedia article.

I wasn't sure what to make of the first three or four episodes of the show: it was messy, awkward, and the sets and especially the costumes were just plain odd. Yet there was enough to keep me to watching, and by episode eight I was hooked. It is obvious that the writers began by tossing ideas about, as some plot-lines are abruptly dropped, and while the initial set-up appears focused on romantic elements, the love stories quickly take a back seat when the science fiction elements take over. Stuck in a massive cloud, character interactions are heightened and the show becomes quite exciting. The science is feasible (as far as I can tell) and the writing is solid, with realistic dialogue and some great one-liners. There are close to twenty characters to keep up with and the multiple story-lines, with their quick scenes, often clever and usually well delivered dialogue and character-driven action make the show a fast-paced, addictive affair.

What truly makes this show a pleasure to watch is the cast. Each actor does a fine job with their character, and the characters themselves are fascinating because they are dynamic and utterly flawed. (Okay, there is one character who simply annoys me with her repetitive whining, but the rest are fine.) Only two of the actors seem recognizable elsewhere: Anna Chancellor who portrays stunning ambitious navigator Mercedes Page, and dashing character actor Richard Lintern, who plays botanist James Bromwich. Stunning and dashing; the actors are (nearly) all quite good looking (especially the lovely Caroline Evans, the brainy post graduate physicist Chantal de Gracy), but it is a soap opera after all (though I suppose the Star Trek franchise also selected a cast based partially on looks). My personal favourite cast members are Chancellor, along with Andy Rashleigh whose performance as the washed out, pride-filled Captain Eliot Creasy if filled with stubborn principles, subtle sensitivity and a good deal of humour, and Jason Durr, the self-interested Alex Hartmann, who is so good with his strange blond hair and odd German accent that I sometimes hate to even look at him. I also quite like Carolyn Backhouse as the station's, uh, schoolmistress? Despite these personal favourites others do a fine job, and while many seemed to have fallen to acting obscurity some can be seen in other television projects.

Costumes are truly insane, especially those weird bibs some of the men wear, and those less than complimentary bodysuits. I do like that characters recycle their wardrobe, though there are some dresses I would rather not have to look at. The set is silly but part of the fun. Alcohol bottles look like medicine jugs, supply boxes are emptier that the falling boulders in the original Star Trek, and glass coffee mugs are actually colourful Bodums. There is a scene when the sneaky Harmann glues some Mars dust onto a Valentine heart using... you guessed it, a yellow glue stick. The future, with its advanced operating tools, space flight and Jupiter moon stations is still dependent on glue sticks for their arts & crafts projects.

The DVD itself is not as interesting as the show. There is a typo in the menu so that on each disc the sixth episode (the one in the bottom left) reads "Epidose #," while the blurb at the back claims that each episode is "more astronomically addictive than the next!" I believe they meant "than the last"; since the first episode is a little weak and each "next" episode is less addictive I don't anyone could possible even dream of reaching episode 150.

I do have a confession to make: After having watched Episode 21 my interest has shifted. Now that a great threat has (seemingly) passed, character relationships are being re-evaluated and I am finding myself absorbed by the love stories. Hartmann's behaviour actually has me sympathizing though he is being a real jerk, and what will happen between lovely Chantal and dashing James (the way she says "James" makes me want to change my name; why was she never a Bond girl?). She is so adorable in the way she toys with him. Perhaps the show was a cruel ploy to get men hooked onto soap operas, and I am wondering if a British station will ever launch a horror story soap opera, something set during a zombie epidemic perhaps, though I suppose if the actors keep getting eaten it would be truly short-lived.

I am digressing terribly... I will likely share more thoughts as I continue watching.

Bentley Little, The Town (2000, 1997)

Little, Bentley. The Town. New York: Signet Books, 2000

An earlier edition titled Guests was published in the UK by Headline Books, 1997. (I am not sure how or if the two editions differ, though there is a reference to The Store, which was first published in 1998.)

The Town at ISFdbThe Town at Goodreads
The Town at IBList

Rating:     5/10


It is that singleness of effect which Edgar Allan Poe wrote about that makes the short story such a potentially powerful art form. Horror fiction is best suited to the short form, as a single effect or the simplest idea can generate a thunderous impact. A horror novel, on the other hand, must employ a greater variety of effect, of mood and emotion, and certainly of suspense and mystery, in order to be successful in its medium. Along with comedy it is arguably the most difficult genre in the long form, and few lengthy novels are truly successful. It is difficult to maintain a single source of tension over two hundred and more pages as the reader will likely tire of the monotony; variety shifts the reader's attention, whether the variety is in plot or effect. It is not normally enough to populate a novel with numerous characters and stretch the singular idea through character diversity, no matter how many dimensions those characters might have. If the novel's focus of tension is left dangling from a single source idea, it will soon wear thin. This is the first failure of Bentley Little's The Town.

At 276 pages the single effect wears so thin that it becomes almost invisible, and I soon found myself gazing beyond that thin veneer of tension and thinking ahead of the next novel I wanted to read (incidentally, Andrew Cowan's Pig).

The Town is structured through a series of episodes involving a number of characters, though centred mainly around Gregory Tomasov and his family. After winning a substantial Los Angeles lottery and as a consequence feeling idle and inconsequential, Tomasov moves his family (wife, three children and practicing Molokan mother) to his childhood home town of McGuane, Arizona. We soon learn that their new home, along with the entire town, is over-run with "uninvited" spirits. The episodic structure does not suit this novel well, as the episodes are often not directly connected to the central idea, and many scenes do little in enhancing or revealing the mystery around the strange occurrences. The novel does have a clear direction, yet it has little in the way of plot, and this awkward, clunky format leaves the work uneven.

Some scenes are certainly tense, and we find ourselves climbing up a slope toward its climactic peak, while others are seemingly pointless or just plain silly, tossing a roadblock ahead of us and stunting that upward climb. In maintaining its good moments and excising the silly, The Town could have been a decent novella. There is a nice chapter involving a boy who takes a picture of the evil banya, quickly developing the film to reveal the empty and run-down bathhouse filled with the wrinkled forms of some elderly ghosts. Another good moment has Tomasov's wife volunteering at the local library, happily chatting it up with the other volunteers until she learns that each are hopelessly paranoid, believing that the government is concealing the truth about a meteor that is hurtling toward the earth and a doom-filled collision. This tense and surprising moment is shortly followed by a scene depicting a Molokan priest being attacked by his bible. I could not help but laugh and think of Bruce Campbell and the fluttering book in Army of Darkness; though silly, Campbell's escapades are at the least entertaining. Unfortunately, the strange photographs of the banya and the conspiracy theorists at the library never reappear, so that these moments have little to do with anything, making me wonder why I was made to read them.

Bentley Little seems to have had a fairly general and abstract idea, and rather than unite the small parts into a solid an cohesive whole, he simply fills 276 pages with as many creepy (or silly) scenes that fail to help ground the work. Just because something is supernatural does not mean it should not be governed by some form of logic. This is the novel's secondary flaw.

The strange events are never clearly explained and ideas are tossed about randomly, most often never followed up, characters disappear (such as the handyman Odd), so that it all becomes meaningless. Characters receive revelations "suddenly" rather than through any form of deductive process. This haphazard conceptualizing makes for a poor mystery and is not terribly fair to the reader; mysteries should be a collaboration between author and reader, with the reader being involved and taking part in the investigation. Town characters themselves do little active investigating despite the odd occurrences which I suppose makes sense since by the final page we realize there really isn't anything within these pages to investigate.

Despite these two major flaws the novel is strangely not terrible, and this is a mystery I have spent some minutes investigating. The characterization, including relationships, general interaction and internal thought processes, is quite good. There is here an unevenness as well, as some characters are inexplicably shoved to the background (not just in Odd disappearing but Tomasov's daughter Sasha is forgotten over much of the novel's middle while her two siblings are given a large amount of attention). There are some nice surprises near the end and the writing itself is competent. There is also some clunkiness provided by the publisher/printer in the unusual number of typos. The Town is the second novel by Little that I have read, and clearly The Store is a superior work.

On a side note, The Store is mentioned in passing: "There were no chain stores, no corporate gas stations... There was no Wal-Mart or The Store, no Texaco or Shell..." (20) This was a nice touch, and if other Little works are mentioned or alluded to, I was not one to pick up on them.

Classic Mysteries: A Collection of Mind-bending Masterpieces, Ed. Molly Cooper (1996)

Classic Mysteries: A Collection of Mind-bending Masterpieces. Ed. Molly Cooper, illustrated by Barbara Kiwak. New York: Barnes & Noble Books, Lowell House Juvenile, 1996.

Classic Mysteries at Goodreads
Classic Mysteries at IBList

Rating:     7/10


It is a clever though not unique method to tempt a young audience to read classic authors, such as Chekhov, Twain and Poe, by collecting together a selection of their mysteries. This would also perhaps encourage them to chase down further classic works. This trick worked well on me as a ten year-old. I was first exposed to mysteries from those Alfred Hitchcock Random House anthologies geared to young readers, starting with Spellbinders in Suspense and quickly moving onto other titles. To add to my quickly growing interest in suspense stories, my elementary school English teacher, Mrs. Wise, read aloud some of the classics, and it was from her that I first encountered W.W. Jacobs's "The Monkey's Paw." A little later, as a twelve year-old in my first high school English class, I was first exposed to the wonders of Poe with "The Tell-Tale Heart," and to Shirley Jackson's masterful "The Lottery." There was no turning back.

Classic Mysteries: A Collection of Mind-bending Mysteries collects six such works, all originally published between 1844 and 1927. The stories collected here make up an odd but interesting mix. The title is a little much, though, as really only two of the selections can be called mind-bending, and not because they are beyond reason, but because they have enough plot twists to at least bend the course of one's thoughts. These are Mark Twain's "A Curious Experience" and Anna Katharine Green's "The Ruby and the Caldron." I wonder about the choice to include the weaker Clarence Rook piece; I suppose a young female sleuth would prevent alienating female readers. In fact, most of the stories do have a strong female element, which is refreshing, and likely a conscious consideration by female editor Molly Cooper.

Each author is introduced by Cooper and each story is highlighted by a pencil sketch from Barbara Kiwak. The introductions are quite good as they include some unusual tidbits amid the standard biographical fare we encounter in countless anthologies. The drawings are from an integral point of each story and are a nice addition. Drawn simply and thankfully without modern pretensions, sticking to their time periods, with not too much detail but enough to make the image real and whole. I like Kiwak's interpretations of both the situations and the characters.

Overall the book would entertain most youths, I think, though for adult readers some of the stories are a little tame. I have always enjoyed the works of Chekhov and Twain, and the selections by both are very good, particularly Twain's piece. I was also impressed with lesser-known Anna Katharine Green piece.


The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle     6/10
Strand Magazine 73, February 1927. 109-116

This story is not among Sherlock Holmes's stronger mysteries, and an unusual one in that it does not follow the standard Holmes pattern. The famous detective is called, along with Dr. Watson, to listen to a kind of confession from an unfortunately scarred woman, a confession that reveals the truth about an unsolved mystery involving a murder, a lion and a famous travelling circus. It is not a bad story though it does lack the Holmes & Watson interaction and deduction; indeed the two are but minor characters in this one. It also has one major flaw: why would a woman, desiring confession, request the audience of a detective rather than, say, a minister?

The Safety Match by Anton Chekhov     7/10
1883 (no translator is credited)

A comedic mystery with Chekhov's normally colourful characters. A satire more than a suspense story, the mystery is well wrapped up with the comedy, and the story culminates in a satisfying conclusion. There is so much ridiculousness in the character interactions, the deductions and the many clues that the messy little mystery is pure entertainment.

The Stir Outside the Café Royal by Clarence Rook     5/10

The Harmsworth Magazine, September 1898

Though it starts interestingly enough, with a young woman hopping off a carriage to follow a man she happens to notice on the street, the identities of the characters quickly become obvious, making the story the weakest among the group.

The Ruby and the Caldron by Anna Katharine Green     7/10
The Amethyst Box, Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, April 1905

By the author of the once-popular 1878 novel The Leavenworth Case, one of the best-selling mysteries of all-time, this was a surprisingly good discovery. A fairly light mystery, I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of it, and kept guessing as to the whereabouts of the ruby right along with sleuth Ebenezer Gryce. Told through the detective's point of view, we follow along as he is invited to a fashionable party to discover who has taken the valuable ruby that, having recently been lost, was in the midst of being returned to its owner. Along with Gryce we make the more obvious assumptions, only to be thwarted again and again.

A Curious Experience by Mark Twain     8/10
Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Vol. 23, No. 1, November 1881. 35

This lesser known story by Twain is among the stronger Twain stories I have encountered, and I've admired the author since an early age. This story works on many levels as it not only includes Twain's genuinely funny writing, but also offers a tght plot and good mystery, which is not always present in his short stories.

A young boy wanders into a northern garrison wishing to join the Yankee cause. The garrison colonel is faced with the task of figuring out whether the boy is a clever spy or a misunderstood youth. Openly hilarious with a tight mystery, I highly recommend this one.

(The image on the left is from the Twain piece. A soldier sent to spy on the boy hides in the barn the boy likes to frequent, and watches him place a sheet of paper beneath a haystack. It is one of the more detailed drawings, capturing the scene well and adding some nice shading. The boy's face remains mostly hidden, which adds to the mystery of his identity.)

The Oblong Box by Edgar Allan Poe     7/10
Godey's Magazine and Lady's Book, September 1844

This is a good addition and a strong conclusion to the book, offering something a little darker then the other entries. Though not Poe's best, it is among his stronger rarely collected works. Most anthologies will elect to reprint, for the upteenth time, the classic tales "The Cask of Amontillado," "The Tell-Tale Heart," "The Masque of the Red Death," "The Fall of the House of Usher," and so on, and while those selections are among his stronger works, Poe's other good stories too frequently remain undeservedly unread.

"The Oblong Box" is told through the point of view of a ship's passenger who obsesses about an acquaintance and fellow passenger who has oddly reserved an additional cabin. He boards the ship with an oblong box and an unusually unappealing bride, and not only does the bride share his own cabin, but so does the box, leaving the need for a second cabin a mystery our narrator desires to solve. Though Poe's narrator in this one is quite sane, he is nonetheless as obsessive as the madder characters we encounter in his work. While the mystery is less than shocking, the story is creepy, well paced and, as with Poe, nicely visual.