Horror, Humor, Hollywood Vampires … And More!

It gives me no small pleasure to tell you that the best-written comic on the stands today is a zombie book … The Walking Dead by Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard, published by Image Comics.

While I’m known primarily as a vampire writer, I’ve got a particular affection for the shambling corpses that want nothing more than to gobble you right up.

You’ve seen zombies in a few of my tales – notably “Linda Marie” and “I Walked With A Zombie” – and I’ve got plans to utilize them again in the future. I’ve even got a zombie novel, which is half blood ‘n guts action and half philosophical musings, that I’m going to write in the next several years. I love zombies, what can I say?

I’m not even sure why there’s such an attraction there.

With vampires, it’s easy – vampires kick ass, we know that for a fact. Hell, I’ve not-so-subtly hinted in some of my Hollywood Vampires stories that our fanged friends may very well be the next step in human evolution – they’re the way to be!

But zombies … they’re just dead. They don’t really do much except shuffle around and mindlessly try to ruin your day. They’re stupid. They stink. They’re illiterate. In fact …

Zombies often remind me of the addle-brained nitwits I have to deal with every day in the wonderful world of retail. I shouldn’t like ‘em, but I do.

I think it may have something to do with the fact that so many zombie tales revolve around an apocalyptic scenario of some sort, and ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a deep fascination with things of that nature. That’s the kind of world that The Walking Dead takes you to – the dead rose, toppled civilization, and the living are left to pick up the pieces.

Maybe not even that much – the living are just too busy trying to survive. If they’re not dealing with hordes of zombies, they’re fighting against something far more insidious than hungry corpses … other people.
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Werewolves always get a bad rap.

Thankfully, Carrie Vaughn and Kitty Norville are working hand-in-paw to create something DIFFERENT within the overall werewolf mythos – and it’s about damned time.

Whether it’s books, movies, or TV, werewolves are almost always portrayed as being savage monsters at worst – barely-in-control man-beasts at best. Though I WILL admit that it makes for some pretty good fiction at times, and we DO get some compelling characters like Lucian, the lycan chieftan from the Underworld movies.

I’m also under the impression that the werewolves of the Twilight universe are a bit less on the savage side, but I haven’t gotten to any of the Twilight books except for the first one – yet – so I can’t comment on Jacob on his pals as of yet. But whether it’s Lon Chaney Jr.’s tragic Larry Talbot or the monstrous William from Underworld, it seems like the general consensus is …

Werewolves are vicious assholes that would like nothing better than to kill – and probably eat – you.

Like I said, it makes for some entertaining stuff at times, but it gets OLD. The main problem I have with the view of werewolves as monsters is that it’s totally tainted by man’s flawed perception of wolves in general.

Real-life wolves are NOT vicious assholes. Wolves are proud, social animals that – if you leave them alone – will leave YOU alone. If a wolf attacks a human, it’s likely because the wolf’s hurt, scared, sick, or starving to the point of desperation … only in extreme cases will a wolf go after a person unprovoked.

Like most wild predators, wolves have a certain hard-edged pragmatism to them, and they tend not to engage in all of the boneheaded behaviors that humans do – you won’t find wolves killing, raping, or generally annoying one another just because they don’t have anything better to do.

In essence, wolves just want enough to eat, a warm place to sleep, some tail now and again, and other wolves to hang out with. If anything, I would think that becoming half-wolf would IMPROVE a human being’s temperament. Or at the very least it wouldn’t be a terrible, life-ruining curse.

That’s why I’ve been loving Carrie Vaughn’s Kitty Norville series over the past few years. Ms. Vaughn treats lycanthropy as a medical condition that – while inconvenient at times – is something that can be lived with, worked around, and even benefitted from. As Ms. Vaughn sees it …

Lycanthropy has both positive and negative aspects, both of which are dealt with realistically and often with a touch of wry, self-deprecating humor on the part of one Kitty Norville, our intrepid werewolf radio DJ.

I like Kitty, a lot. She’s one of the most enjoyable characters I’ve come across in years, as a matter of fact. She’s mainly strong and independent, but at the same time has her own set of weaknesses and neuroses. Basically, Kitty Norville comes off as a real, genuine person that got stuck with lycanthropy after a random werewolf attack.
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I recently caught Trailer Park Of Terror, and it was about what I expected – it wasn’t terribly good, but it was amusing, at least.

Of course, I think my amusement was greatly assisted by the fact that I watched it with a friend, and we spent most of the movie hooting, hollering, and generally making fun of the proceedings. But then, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with direct-to-video horror films?

As a matter of fact, I rarely watch horror films by myself. Not because I’m a pussy, mind you – I’m all man and stuff – but horror movies are so much more fun when watched with friends. Most of them are so atrociously bad that they’re best enjoyed when you’ve got somebody to make fun of ‘em with. I sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten ANY entertainment out of Wrestlemaniac if I’d watched it by myself, good Gawd.

Anyway, according to All Movie Guide, the general gist of Trailer Park of Terror is …

A group of teens returning home from a character-building retreat seek shelter from a raging storm after their bus crashes, only to find themselves pitted against an evil that even their youth ministries pastor might not be able to defeat. Based on the popular Imperium Comics series of the same name, Trailer Park of Terror opens as a group of six juvenile delinquents and their chaperone become hopelessly stranded in a raging storm.

Left with no other choice than to seek shelter in a remote trailer park in the so-called Trucker’s Triangle, the desperate, waterlogged group is warmly greeted by Norma – a dolled-up, trash-talking tart with a monstrous secret. Later, as the thankful group settles in for the night, trailer park reaper Norma reveals her grotesque true colors as her army of gut-munching redneck zombies emerge from their graves for an unholy feast of human flesh.

Trailer Park Of Terror is based upon the Imperium Comics series of the same name, which I have absolutely no familiarity with, so I can’t comment on how well the translation from comic to screen went. I really don’t care to find out, either – in my own personal experience, slasher-style action works a LOT better on video than it does on paper. I believe the shitty Friday The 13th and Texas Chainsaw Massacre series from Avatar will back me up on that.

There’s also the fact that – in my own personal opinion – most of the delight of a good slasher tale revolves around the appropriately creepy music, the screaming, carrying on, running around and falling down, and people generally behaving like scaredy assholes while getting hacked up by some misanthropic cretin armed with his favorite gardening implements. It’s about atmosphere, kids.

Trailer Park of Terror has got atmosphere all right – fried chicken and murder. I don’t know if the creators were deliberately going for it or not, but the film definitely had a low-rent House of 1000 Corpses vibe to it — which is kind of ironic, because House of 1000 Corpses had a VERY low-rent vibe to it. But while amusing in places, it lacked the brutal bite, vicious humor, and sadistic inventiveness of Rob Zombie’s initial opus. As a matter of fact …

Trailer Park Of Terror feels largely like House of 1000 Corpses Lite.
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Seeing as how I like to mix humor in with the horror and vampire stuff, here’s another one of my favorites from MadTV … “Davey & The Son Of Goliath.”

It’s a charmingly demonic spoof on those old Davey & Goliath claymation cartoons from when I was a kid — the shit that goes on in this cartoon is actually the sort of thing I would’ve really appreciated seeing in a cartoon back in the 4th grade. Maybe if the religious cartoons had been more of this bent, I would’ve paid more attention …

I remember the first time I ever saw this cartoon — back in college — I laughed so hard at Goliath’s rebuttal to Davey’s refusal to kill that I missed a lot of what came after.

Business really starts to pick up around 1:10 … “Look at that SLUT!” Shortly afterwards is the part that nearly killed me — I seriously had a headache afterwards I laughed so hard. Yes, I’m easily amused.

I originally picked up Scott Stigler’s Infected because it sorta sounded like a zombie novel, and I’m a giggly little schoolgirl when it comes to All Things Zombie – even if it’s only peripherally-related.

The back cover text reads …

A mysterious disease is turning thousands of ordinary Americans into raving, paranoid murderers who inflict brutal horrors on strangers, their own families, and even themselves. And one morning, ex-football star Perry Dawsey awakens to find mysterious welts growing all over his body. Soon Perry finds himself acting and thinking strangely, hearing voices, fighting uncontrollable rage … he is INFECTED. Worse, the disease WANTS something from him, something that could alter the fate of the human race.

The part about a “mysterious disease” turning people into “raving, paranoid murderers” sounds like it could be kind of zombie-like – especially nowadays, when the traditional model of zombie behavior is getting turned on its ear.

28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later gave us fast, snarling, vicious monsters that – while technically not zombies – are barely a step away from the ultra-violent, intimidating-as-hell zombies of the Dawn of the Dead remake. So why not raving, paranoid zombies?

Scott Stigler’s Infected ain’t a zombie novel. But it’s still a very entertaining read, and is gritty, gutsy, and ghoulish enough to satisfy my bloodthirsty inner child.

( minor spoilers follow )

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I’ve gotten my very first “official” publishing credit!

My short story “A Robot Named J35U5″ appears in the new Robots Beyond anthology published by Permuted Press, alongside 18 other unconventional robot tales, ranging from a sweeping, mechanical take on The Grapes of Wrath to a story that features none other than a robotic Elvis. There’s a little something for everybody in here!

The tale — about the coming of a robotic messiah in an age when humanity has cast aside its old gods — is one sure to make you think … maybe even give you pause. Because you see, not everybody’s ready to embrace this new voice, and somebody who remembers what went down in Golgotha has got an agenda to fulfill — but not in the way you might think.

I’ve been a fan of Permuted Press’ short story anthologies and books for a few years now, and I’m pleased and honored to finally be part of one! I want to thank Lane Adamson, my trusty editor, who pushed me to make “J35U5″ a much better story than it originally was, and for giving me a chance to get my writing out to a larger audience, as well as Jacob Kier, Permuted Press’ fearless publisher, who made it all possible.

And of course, all of YOU for always believing in me and encouraging me to keep pushing!

Pick up Robots Beyond in my Horror, Humor, Hollywood Vampires … And More! store and help me and the Hollywood Vampires out — I get a little extra when you buy through me. Every little bit helps, folks!

Here’s an exclusive excerpt from “A Robot Named J35U5″ to give you an idea of what kind of reception our mechanized messiah’s facing in the not-so-distant future …
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All right, I admit it – I picked up Donkey Punch on the strength of the title alone. I’m almost 33 years old, and my sense of humor has barely changed since I was about 13. My vocabulary and command of more subtle nuances is far greater than it was 20 years ago, but when it comes right down to it – I’m drawn to some pretty stupid shit.

So naturally when I discovered there was a movie called Donkey Punch, I HAD to see it – the fact that it was listed as a thriller and had a bloody motorboat engine on the movie poster helped the process along. I figured SOMETHING entertaining had to come out of this.

The premise of this British-made film is that three girls are going out for a night on the town, in order to cheer up one of their number, who’d just gone through a bad breakup with a boyfriend. They then encounter three horny guys, who convince these three girls to get on the pleasure yacht they crew and go out for a fun time – you know, the sort of thing that ALWAYS ends well. The boat’s engineer goes along for the ride, leaving us with four guys and three girls out on the open water, with drugs, booze, and sex. Then things go wrong …
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Furious George is one of the many hilarious bits of animation that MadTV used to put out, done in the classic claymation style that we all remember from our youths — though Furious George does a few things that would NEVER have happened on Gumby’s program.

Being an avid animal-lover, I particularly get a kick out of this delightful little cartoon. I DESPISE animal-testing, and have envisioned this sort of thing going down numerous times — though Furious George’s sheer creativity in exacting his revenge is definitely a thing to behold.

Monkeys rule.

I first heard Burning Retna on Cleopatra’s Black Bible compilation back in 1999, where the darkly swaggering “Write My Name In Blood” left me demanding more of this compelling goth-rock outfit, which includes Mick Cripps (L.A. Guns), Charlie Clouser (NIN), and Sean Beavan (also NIN) in its ranks. But after that one track, nothing, nada, for almost a decade.

But then, without any fanfare or hullabaloo, Cleopatra released The Frozen Lies album – which was originally recorded all the way back in 1993/1994 – a few years back, on 06/06/06. Not only was it a surprise, but a very pleasant one at that.

I have no idea why this little gem languished in a record vault for as long as it did, because it’s a thoroughly enjoyable piece of work, and one that DESERVES to be heard.
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In case you don’t read a lot of horror fiction and thus aren’t familiar with the works of Brian Keene, I often hear him being hailed as the next Stephen King. While I know that comparison is being made in a complimentary fashion, I’ve never really liked it.

This is because Brian Keene is NOT the next Stephen King … he’s the first BRIAN KEENE, you see. Stephen King is who he is, and the same can be said for Mr. Keene – they often touch upon similar themes, both come from a solid working-class background, and entertain the hell out of me. Granted, there ARE many similarities.

But as dark and vicious as Stephen King can be … I honestly think Brian Keene’s meaner. In musical terms, I view Stephen King as Blue Oyster Cult, while Brian Keene is most definitely Slayer – and I truly believe he should be taken on his own merits, as opposed to being compared to anybody else.

The Rising and its sequel, City Of The Dead, demonstrate – in no uncertain terms – that Brian Keene does NOT fuck around.
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