The NecronomiCon Providence event was incredible, wonderful beyond all expectation.
I met an amazing roster of weird/horror talent, interacted with great writers, editors, publishers, critics and artists. Below, I’m showing off for Richard Gavin, Scott Nicolay, John Langan and his mentor Bob Waugh, Jack Haringa, Michael Cisco, Selena Chambers and Simon Stranzas.
I attended a reading by two of my very favorite writers, Laird Barron and Joseph S. Pulver Sr., and was surprised to be asked to step up and read some of my work for the crowd that had gathered to hear the big boys read.
I experienced a live performance by Lustmord, one of the giants of dark ambient music, and a primary influence on my own efforts as founder of Hypnos Recordings, and as a recording artist.
I bounced off any number of inspiring people, sights and sounds, so much humor and fun and inspiration, it was like the best and craziest 4 days of college distilled into one long weekend.
I was able to drag my lovely wife Lena along, and bask in her giddy enjoyment of the same pleasures.
At the end, I was swept up into the kind of mind-blowing all-star room party you see people bragging about in con reports, and you think, “Oh shit, I missed THAT!” Laird Barron and John Langan’s room, filled with all manner of madness. Barron’s Big Chair, Langan and Nicolay’s Cuddle Corner, and even Jerad Walters of Centipede Press, perhaps the finest creator of dark genre books we’ve got. Mix in an appalling abundance of very good Scotch whisky, and ohhhh golly!
I intend to write about this in greater detail, and offer more pictures, once the world stops spinning so fast.
I kept reflecting, as I read Richard Gavin’s fourth collection At Fear’s Altar, about what horror fiction ought to be. Horror stories should be dark, disquieting. Too often what passes for “horror” is mundane or predictable. Whereas familiarity can be a virtue in some genres, where readers seek the recurring comfort of touchstones, horror by its very nature should unsettle.
Richard Gavin’s work stands out as chillingly dark, wickedly strange and otherworldly. These stories have the heart-pounding feel of nightmare, and carry a strong suggestion of the numinous. Where other writers offer familiar monsters in comfortable territory, always stopping short of threatening the reader, Gavin explores the weird and surreal just as much as the horrific. His strength is conveying an otherness, something looming out there, threatening. There’s a commonality with the cosmic horror of Lovecraft, but I find a greater kinship to the spooky occultism of Machen and Blackwood, whose best stories have at their heart a sense of something unknowable happening just out of view, completely out of proportion with human experience, and vibrating on an entirely different wavelength.
Highlights include “Chapel in the Reeds,” in which an elderly man moves back home with his daughter, who doesn’t want him there. The man wanders the countryside, seeming to shift into different realms, seeking a strange, mystic chapel, and speaking with his late wife. His young granddaughters are frightened when they witness his strange behavior, standing in the middle of a field, talking to no one. His daughter thinks he’s disintegrating, while he remains focused on finding the chapel again. Whether his reality or his daughter’s is most true, either possibility is disturbing.
In “The Abject,” Petra watches an eclipse, along with her husband tad and two male friends. Out across the water is a jagged island know as The Abject, about which Petra’s friend recounts a legend. Petra has a vision of proto-humans on the spire, and feels dangerously drawn to go there herself.
The main character in “A Pallid Devil, Bearing Cypress” walks the streets among falling bombs in a time of war in Europe. He’s trying to see the devil, feeling sensitively attuned to the city’s shadow side, and thinks he sees something. He finds a broken Cypress flower, red and star shaped, the spots a devilish, horned creature. Excited and inspired, thinking he’s found the devil he seeks, he then hears the cries of a girl trapped under rubble, and leaves her, trying to chase the devil. After he loses track, he to Helma and helps her out from under the rock. They connect, end up marrying, though not too happily. He’s still preoccupied with seeking darkness. They move out to the country, and nights he roams near their new house, looking for the devil’s traces. At times he finds these scattered Cypress flowers, but never quite what he seeks. Finally he learns Helma too is seeking something.
“King Him” is a shocking story of domestic unease, an adult brother and sister living together. She thinks he’s the crazy one, insisting on talking about an entity called “King Him.” Maybe he’s insane, maybe they both are, or maybe King Him is the real cause of the dysfunction creeping into their relationship.
“Only Enuma Elish” is a good example of Gavin’s treatment of characters with supernatural or occult beliefs. This story’s narrator meets an older woman across the street, and she introduces him to the book “Enuma Elish,” a tale of the universe’s creation, from ancient Babylon.
In “Darksome Leaves,” an isolated, socially awkward man becomes attracted to a young woman in his apartment building. His hopes of getting closer to her shift when they discover an ominous mask.
By far the book’s longest and most ambitious story, “The Eldritch Faith,” is both philosophical and metaphysical in its focus. It follows a boy who grows up seeking to understand reality’s true nature, to find a way out of the depressingly mundane ordinary existence. He comes up with a game called Curtains which he believes allows a ghost or spirit to communicate with him, and possibly enter our world. This exploration unfolds gradually, and feels chillingly real. His interactions with the entity he comes to know as Capricorn are among the more creepy and unnerving things I’ve ever read. “The Eldritch Faith,” which concludes the collection, exemplifies what Gavin is capable of.
At Fear’s Altar achieves heights — or perhaps depths — of darkness and disquiet almost unrivaled in recent horror fiction. It’s among the few most notable and impressive story collections I’ve read in the past five years. With this book, Gavin rises in my estimation to rank among the strongest practitioners of horror and weird fiction currently active. At Fear’s Altar is my first exposure to Gavin’s fiction, but now I gladly anticipate the pleasure of going back to investigate Charnel Wine (2004), Omens (2007), and The Darkly Splendid Realm (2009).Even more, I eagerly anticipate Gavin’s future works.
Astoria is the second in a series of novellas linked to S.P. Miskowski’s Shirley Jackson Award nominated debut, Knock Knock. Each of the linked works follows a different spoke outward from the hub of Knock Knock’s primary characters, a trio of young girls and their immediate families.
One of these is Ethel Sanders, stuck in a life she finds unbearable. She reacts to sudden tragedy by abruptly fleeing Skillute, Washington, the small town she’s lived in all her life. Ethel not only leaves home, but steps out of her whole identity like shed skin. She travels down the Columbia river, which divides Oregon and Washington, toward the small coastal town of Astoria, on the Oregon side. There she tries on aspects of a new life, picking up elements one at a time, fantasizing that all of it’s real. Ethel clings to belief in the possibility of an unhappy middle-aged woman simply leaving behind the mundane existence that caused her dissatisfaction, to truly start over. For a while, it seems she’s reinvented herself, truly run away from the elements in her life that troubled her. But has something come along for the ride? Her escape may not be what it seems.
At times, Miskowski’s approach reminds me of Stephen King’s. Many attribute King’s lasting popularity to the horrific story elements, but I’ve always believed what he does best is tell the story from a place so intimately wound up in a character’s perspective that the reader feels as if they’re living someone else’s experience. Miskowski too writes in a style straightforward and transparent, yet vivid and always engaging. A deceptively simple narrative surface hides churning layers of confusion, pain and psychological turmoil.
Just as in Knock Knock Miskowski leads the reader to identify with the primary characters, in Astoria’s we share Ethel’s turmoil, her desperate grasping at a possible alternate future life. Every time she seems to have taken a step closer to this goal of reinvention, she seems to slip deeper into a state of delusion or self-deception. By the end, Ethel’s situation seems at once more settled, almost domestic, and also nightmarish. Astoria is the most accomplished work of fiction yet from S.P. Miskowski, an author still improving, achieving stronger effects. It’s a work of confidence, of engrossing atmosphere and real narrative control, strongly recommended.
I really need to set up one of those Google Stalker services. You know, the robot brain that crawls the internet looking for mentions of one’s name or works. I almost missed this informal review of my story “Arches and Pillars.”
It appeared on the forums of TTA Press, publishers of Black Static magazine, as well as Interzone, and their crime-focused effort Crimewave.
The forums are open to the public, and the post is under the reviewer’s actual name Andrew Hook. My thanks to Andrew for the kind words!
Weightless Books, one of my favorite sources for electronic books and magazines (including subscriptions), now offers Black Static and Interzone from TTA Press. This is significant because “hard copy” subscriptions to these UK periodicals are expensive for readers in the USA and Canada.
I’ve been making notes toward a blog post about how valuable and important I’ve found it to avoid distractions, particularly various time-sucks on the internet, most particularly social networks.
In theory it should be perfectly easy to say to yourself, “I’m writing now,” and just avoid anything other than writing until your planned writing session is over. The problem with this is that sometimes writing is difficult and frustrating, and when the going is hard, your subconscious will look for an escape instead of addressing the difficult problem.
If you’re working on the easy, fun parts, no problem. But when you’re really stuck, when something’s not working, or when you need to really focus mentally, these are the times when the little voice in the back of your mind is most likely to whisper, “Maybe just check in on Facebook for just two seconds…”
This whisper is evil. It’s not whispering to you because finding out what’s on Facebook will be good for you. It’s doing that because it’s a convenient excuse to avoid doing hard work.
Recently I found this great blog that basically says everything I intended to say, and offers the same solutions I was going to offer (either write with a non-internet-connected device, or find a way to disable your internet for a set period of time). Rather than write it all out, which would be redundant, I hereby refer you to this very useful and valuable blog post, Working in the Shed.
I don’t know who you are, Matt Gemmell, but thanks for writing this so I don’t have to. Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to look for an old Apple Newton on eBay…
This fifth installment concludes my H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival convention report. It covers the aftermath of the event itself, and is mostly intended for people who know me, Lena and Joe, or those who enjoy looking of pictures of beach vacations, or reading recaps of excessive seafood and pizza consumption.
Early Monday morning, I dropped Mike Davis at PDX. I had to work a half-day, after which I hurried home to pick up Joe and Lena and we drove to Lincoln City. On arrival, I found a missed call (no cell phone coverage in the coast range) and voicemail from Gwen Callahan saying Mike Davis’s flight was cancelled, and he was stuck at airport!
Panic! We scrambled around, calling and texting and emailing people, trying to figure out what happened. I thought most likely we’d need to go back to Portland and pick up Mike. To our relief, an updated Facebook post informed us that American Airlines had given Mike a hotel, and a ticket on an early flight home the next morning.
So, back to relaxation mode. We took Joe for a walk down to the beach, specifically the main Roads End access point at the extreme north end of Lincoln City.
This was Joe’s first time ever seeing the Pacific Ocean. It was great to see him acting like an excited kid.
Lena and I go to the beach all the time, but it had been many years since we’d taken off our shoes and gone out into the water. Joe inspired us to give it a try.
We were lucky to get a beautiful, sunny, blue-sky day.
I caught crabs. You’ve got to watch out — these things will creep up on you.
Back at the house, we decided to order pizza. I’ve been eating pizza from Gallucci’s Pizzeria in Lincoln City since I was a wee lad. It’s fantastic! This pizza, just a medium, weighed as much as three normal pizzas.
We all ate Gallucci’s Combo, Lena and I drank tiny bottles of Red Stripe, and Joe drank one of his gallon jugs of iced tea. While we ate, we watched Under the Sand. François Ozon is solid. Charlotte Rampling is amazing!
This being post-convention vacation mode, we all crashed pretty early.
Tuesday morning was gray and cool. That’s not uncommon at the Oregon coast, even in July or August, but it was still a let-down after yesterday. We scrounged some cold pizza for breakfast. That Gallucci’s pizza was HUGE. Joe’s like me, always eating whatever’s left of last night’s dinner first thing. Anyway, we weren’t focused on breakfast today. We were ready to knock seafood off Joe’s “must eat” list.
Lena and I go to Kyllo’s, right on Highway 101 where it crosses D River, every time we visit Lincoln City.
We wanted to get as many kinds of seafood as we could. Joe was excited to find they had a Cajun shrimp and cod lunch special.
To that, we added two appetizers: oysters and calimari. Four kinds of seafood!
Even after all that, Joe was unable to resist the offer of key lime pie.
On the way out, we showed Joe “D River,” which is (used to be?) the world’s shortest river, which runs right under the restaurant. It’s a tiny little outlet from D lake, right under Highway 101 and the restaurant, to the ocean. The Wikipedia page for D River includes an exterior shot of Kyllo’s, and tells me the river is no longer the world’s shortest.
After lunch we drove about twenty miles south, down to Depoe Bay, trying to give Joe a sense of a different kind of beach. Most Lincoln City beaches are flat and sandy. Down in Depoe Bay, you get to see cliffs and rocks.
Depoe Bay is known as a hot spot for whale watching. Unfortunately, during Joe’s visit the only whale visible was this very small non-aquatic variety, which seemed to be in some kind of stupor. This Miniature Gray Whale sat there long enough to let Joe pose for a picture.
On the way back through town, stopped at Robert’s Books, a great used and antiquarian book shop in the Nelscott part of town. I recommend this place if you ever visit LC. Here Lena is ready about something spooky!
We had to make sure to show Joe the King in Yellow first editions (both British and American) locked away in the glass case. Too expensive to buy, but fun to check out. Also, there were two whole shelves of Arkham House hardcovers. It’s fun to browse a bookstore with another writer, make suggestions and compare notes. Joe and I talked a lot about Jack o”connell and Andrew Vachss. Then Joe asked to take a look at my “to buy” pile, as well as Lena’s, and sneakily went up front and paid for them.
Here’s my Cthulhu t-shirt with a design from a woodcut by Liv Rainey-Smith. I love this, and I need to buy more of her art.
All fun things — conventions, visits from friends, vacations — must come to an end. Goodbye, beach!
Back to Portland. All of us were starting to run on fumes, feeling happy from all the fun times, yet exhausted. There was still time to make Joe one more special USA-ian dinner — grilled steaks, with baked potatoes and Caesar salads. After that, we were all starting to think we might need a week or two break from food.
Wednesday morning, we dropped Joe at PDX and said goodbye. All three of us kept reminding each other that soon we’d see each other again. August in Providence… August in Providence. Not just the three of us, but many of the new friends we met and the old friends we’d seen again, this past wonderful week.
Earlier installments of this con report include Part I – Before, Part II – Friday, and Part III – Saturday. Part V is forthcoming. My apologies for the gap between part III and this one. Illness interrupted my “one installment per day” intentions.
No early events were scheduled Sunday, the third and final day of the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival. We were able to sleep in a bit, and stop for a Mexican brunch buffet. Mmmmm, all you can eat bacon and eggs, beans and rice and enchiladas, with a half-dozen different kinds of salsa! All kinds of variety in endless quantity, which is perfect for this crew.
Despite the short Sunday program, our group had a busy day planned. Joe had a panel, Mike was planning on doing a live Lovecraft eZine webcast from the festival hall, the webcast including visits from Joe and many other guests. Also, Sunday I would be reading my work to an audience for the first time.
Waiting for the theater to open, I had a chance to meet the eminent Lovecraft scholar and editor S.T. Joshi, here in his Lovecraft eZine t-shirt beside Mike Davis.
S.T. told us about the huge number of books he has pending with Centipede Press (he actually tried to list them all from memory, and couldn’t quite), and further mentioned that he had roughly two dozen books pending release with his various publishers! Speaking of Centipede, that’s a press you need to check out if you enjoy finely crafted hardcover editions of weird, horror or noir fiction.
I also met writer, editor and filmmaker Jason V. Brock, who joined the group and told hilarious anecdotes about meeting and interviewing Harlan Ellison (for Jason’s Charles Beaumont documentary), complete with a pretty good imitation of Ellison’s amusingly gruff way of speaking and cantankerous manner.
Our group of casually chatting writers and editors and readers continued to grow, as more and more people drifted over. It was like sitting at the cool kids’ table, being at a Lovecraft-related event, and standing there in a circle with S.T. Joshi, Mike Davis, Ross Lockhart, Joe Pulver, Jason V. Brock and too many others to list.
My 4PM reading, listed on the schedule board.
Once inside, as had happened all weekend, we managed to spend hours bumping into people and talking, without seeing much of the scheduled programming. Finally Joe’s panel was coming up, and though I knew I’d have to leave early to make my reading, we watched most of that. This was Writing Supernatural Fiction, with Nick Mamatas, Camille Alexa, Amanda Downum and Cody Goodfellow).
While this panel was going on, Mike Davis set up his laptop in the downstairs hallway, next to Nick Gucker’s vendor table outside the main theater. In that incredibly loud and distracting environment, Mike commenced the every-Sunday Lovecraft eZine web chat or “hangout” on Google+. You can watch the full recording on YouTube below.
(Ross Lockhart appears at about 4:30)
(Nick Gucker appears at about 25 minutes)
(I appear briefly at about 45 minutes)
(Neils Hobbs appears at about 48 minutes)
(Wilum H. Pugmire appears at about 53 minutes)
(Alicia Graves at 63 minute mark)
(Joe Pulver at 64 minute mark)
(Kelly Young at 70 minutes)
The webcast software did a great job filtering out background noise, so the video doesn’t convey how noisy the theater hallway was. When I briefly appeared, I mentioned I couldn’t hear anything at all being said by the others on the webcast. One of them, I think Pete Rawlik, asked someone on his end to be quiet as if we couldn’t hear over them, but the “too much chatter” I mentioned was entirely in the theater hallway.
Above, Ross Lockhart guests early in the webcast. Below, Niels Hobbs and Wilum Pugmire are interviewed near the webcasts’s midpoint — or possibly checking out something 3D on Mike’s computer. I only stopped by briefly to explain that I couldn’t participate in the webcast, because I had to hurry to my reading.
Lena (my wife, for those of you just joining this recap) intended to take video of my reading, but her camera’s memory card filled up just after my self-introduction. I may post that video later, in case it’s of any interest, but these photos give an idea of the scene.
Bizarro author Bradley Sands read several short pieces from his book, Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy, all of which were funny and very (intentionally) strange. Jim Smiley read a portion of an early chapter of a novel-in-progress, which also went over well.
I went last. All three of us had selected something short to read — I read my story “The Need to Desire” which you can find on my blog, free to read here — so the reading portion was over in less than a half hour. I bullied the audience into asking questions. We all talked a bit about our own work, and how we got started. Overall, a successful first reading. I thought with so many other events happening at the same time, the audience might be just a few people, but a respectable number turned out.
The reading finished up at about the same time as the Lovecraft eZine webcast, so we all met up for one last Columbia River Brewing meal.
Lena and I and Joe and Mike were joined by Dominique Lamssies — and another guy we thought was with Dominique, but it turned out none of us knew. (EDIT: In comments to this post, HPLFF co-boss Gwen Callahan reports the gentleman at our table is Todd Ellner. Hi, Todd!) Also, Niels Hobbs, prime mover of the NecronomiCon Providence convention. That’s Niels seated to my right, talking with Mike Davis.
Above, Joe displays Dominique’s miniature Cthulhu plushy. Not only was Dominique very organized about getting her books signed (see Saturday entry) but she also managed to get a lot of pictures of people holding her tiny Cthulhu.
Some super-fabulous-folk hang out on Wilum’s bench. That’s Alicia Graves with him.
Artist Nick Gucker and trouble-maker Joe Pulver, starting to face up to the looming end of the convention.
Below, Joe and Niels discuss exciting possibilities upcoming in Providence. What’s the best antidote for sadness about one event ending? Excited anticipation of another event upcoming!
Back inside, Lena and I talked with Nick Gucker, then spent some more time talking with Molly Tanzer, who was in fine form. With her was writer, editor and provocateur Nick Mamatas. I re-introduced myself to Nick. We’d previously been acquainted through some editing work Nick did on a few of my stories maybe eighteen months ago. I also spoke with Orrin Gray, a truly nice fellow, and one of several I wish I’d spent more time with.
Outside, there were some goodbyes, but nothing too formal. Events like this don’t end all at once. People drift off, some leave early, some linger upstairs. Again and again, I heard people reminding themselves and each other, “Providence will be soon. See you in Providence!”
The upcoming Part V will conclude this con report, and will cover events after the HPLFF itself, mainly our trip to Lincoln City with Joe Pulver.
Saturday morning we left the house before 8AM so we could get down to the Hollywood district by 8:30. Robert Price, who in addition to being one of two performers at the Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast is also a very close personal friend of Joe Pulver, warned us these events always fill up, and we shouldn’t arrive late.
The problem with arriving at 8:30 is that Columbia River Brewing (yes, the same place we’d been eating most of our lunches and dinners so far) didn’t even open until 9AM, a minute or two before the event was supposed to start. So a bunch of Lovecraftian weirdos gathered out on the sidewalk, waiting, scaring the neighbors, and causing a general decline in property values.
I checked my phone, thinking I’d answer the text messages Alicia Graves left last night. I found there were also missed calls from Scott Nicolay, a writer friend of ours from New Mexico who had really hoped to be able to attend this year’s event, but hadn’t been able to come. Scott knows Alicia, and had been texting back and forth with her all along. I figured maybe when she’d been unable to reach us last night, she might have asked him to try to reach us. Hmm… the mystery deepens? Still too early to call Scott back.
Finally, we got inside, and snagged a table. We guessed where Robert Price and Cody Goodfellow would be setting up, and sat nearby. We guessed wrong! Their “pulpit” was actually the hostess station at the front of the restaurant. We ended up sitting behind the action, hence the weird angle on some of the photos I posted.
The breakfast aspect of the event was straightforward — eggs and potatoes and bacon and little pancakes served banquet style.
Above, Joe explains something to me and Lena, while Robert Price chats with Mike Davis.
Below, Lena and I were dressed for a funeral we needed to attend later in the day, while Ross Lockhart, seated behind Lena, signs a copy of his kick-ass book Chick Bassist for Dominique Lamssies, who was at our table. Dominique was constantly getting books signed by everybody. I was nowhere so organized, so all my books authored by HPLFF guests remain at home, still unsigned, except for the copies bEast Pulver stealthily signed like the tooth fairy while we were sleeping.
Ross Lockhart and I both take a lot of iPhone photos, and constantly quick-post them to Facebook while the event is still happening, to a degree that either delights or infuriates everyone around us, depending on whether or not they’re cool. Ross and I joked that we could both view the same events from a very slightly different angle, in very nearly real time, by checking in with each other’s photo feeds.
On the next table, woodcut artist Liv Rainey-Smith. You can see an example of Liv’s woodcut art on her t-shirt here. I ended up buying myself one of these shirts, but not until the future. See, at the time I’m writing this blog post, I’m looking back on the past event of the shirt purchase, but as of the morning here depicted, Liv had a shirt like this, but I didn’t yet. I realize this is complicated, like trying to unravel Primer or Memento or something. Just trust me. You’ll see the shirt — my shirt — in Part IV.
Cody Goodfellow kicked off the ceremony with a shout. For the following video, everyone thank Mike Davis of Lovecraft eZine, because I have stolen this from him.
Here’s a photo for those of you disinclined to watch moving pictures, or may be reading this in a workplace that can’t deal with crazy, pseudo-religious shouting. After Cody’s portion, writer and editor Robert M. Price came on like a Cthulhu-flavored Southern Baptist preacher. This event really was a lot of fun, and had the restaurant full of about 140 people rocking.
The breakfast ended at 11. Afterward, we goofed around in the restaurant until we were the last people there. Mike Davis posted some photos, and maybe even the above video. The rest of us went outside, where cool weirdos were hanging out. Lena and I were entertained by Cody and Joe and Nick Gucker, among others, during the hour break between the prayer breakfast and the beginning of events in the main theater at noon.
The first event we wanted to see was Pickman’s Apprentice, which is the contest in which artists try to create a piece of art in real time based on key words provided by the audience. Last year, we watched Nick Gucker, Lee Moyer and Mike Dubisch spend two hours rendering a shoggoth in a circus. This year, the same three artists, plus Liv Rainey-Smith (see above, woodcut artist, t-shirt, et cetera) tackled the challenge of depicting the King in Yellow (guess which audience member shouted that out?) in a sushi bar.
I didn’t get any good photos of the challenge this year. Lena and I needed to leave before 1PM for the funeral. Before that, I went out to the main upstairs landing, aka the “Mall of Cthulhu” where vendors sell their Lovecraftian wares. I was trying to find Joe, who had two packages I needed to mail while we were out. When I found Joe and Mike Davis, they pointed at the opposite end of the upstairs, and asked, “Did you see Scott yet?”
I turned and looked where they were pointing. There was a guy over there who looked like Scott Nicolay, sort of. I figured they were kidding, because an ongoing joke all weekend had been how badly Scott wanted to be here, and couldn’t make it. We kept teasing Scott, who wanted to meet Alicia in person, that we were hanging around with her, and too bad he couldn’t be here!
Turned out, it really was Scott. He really had shown up, surprised everyone. In fact, that was the surprise that was supposed to happen the night before. Scott had arrived late, and Alicia had brought him down to shock everybody… but we were already heading toward sleep.
Better late than never, with something like this. We were all overjoyed to see Scott, finally meet him in person. Alicia let us know that was the reason she had been repeatedly calling and texting last night. We took a few pictures with Scott in the theater, then Lena and I had to leave for a couple of hours.
We came back and changed into more comfortable clothes in the car. Nearby, we found a pair of dentist’s offices with giant metal toothbrush sculptures embedded into the sidewalk out front, so Lena took a moment to freshen up her dental hygeine.
We had to miss Joe’s reading, but arrived in the middle of Ed Morris’s, then saw Cody Goodfellow’s. Ed and Cody both read well, with lots of energy and enthusiasm. Here’s Ed reading his piece. (thanks to Thérèse Elaine for the photo)
I was glad to see the room in which my own Sunday reading would take place, off-site in a place called “EOD Center” a block from the theater, next door to Columbia River Brewing. The room, essentially a mid-sized classroom with room for plenty of chairs, was walled on one side by a sliding vinyl partition. On the other side of that was an open area full of vocal, enthusiastic gamers. The amount of chatter audible through the partition wasn’t really a problem, at least it wasn’t loud enough to prevent the audience from enjoying the reading, but I was glad to know in advance that I’d need to speak up, and could expect distractions from the next room.
After the Pulver-Goodfellow-Morris reading, we returned to the theater. We were too late to watch Nightbreed: Cabal Cut, which had started an hour earlier. This is a restored version of Clive Barker’s poorly-received 1990 horror/fantasy film. The restoration was accomplished utilizing material from VHS rough cuts, and while my understanding is that the Cabal Cut greatly improves the story’s impact and coherence, the quality of the restored materials does not match that of the original. It’s been suggested that eventually a fully-restored Cabal Cut, going back to original camera negatives or at least first-quality optical materials, may be released on DVD or BluRay. I hope so, as we had to miss this screening.
Someone had adorned the theatrical posters outside with googly eyes, creating an amusing spectacle many people wanted to photograph.
Here’s the official H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival poster, featuring artwork by the great and wonderful Nick “The Hat” Gucker. For a while, this had googly eyes all over it, but by the time I took my picture, the poster had been de-googly-ed.
Because all events were mid-stream, we went back upstairs, to the vendor area. Lena and I bought t-shirts, then talked for a while with Nikki Guerlain, a Portland area writer. I asked about Nikki’s son, as she had mentioned on Facebook the possibility of bringing him to the festival. This led to Lena and I mentioning not having kids, which led to Nikki freaking out about how much younger Lena looks than her age, and this led finally to Nikki revealing her age and both Lena and I freaking out about how much younger she looks.
Nikki and Lena compared notes about many subjects relating to diet, health and nutrition, the various keys to looking 10-15 years younger than their actual ages. Then Nikki and I spent a while talking about writing and publishing, about moving from one genre to another, about the benefits and drawbacks of critique groups. We both had stories appear in Phantasmagorium weekly, and both have stories upcoming in Mighty in Sorrow, the Current 93 tribute edited by Jordan Krall. In fact, several others present at the HPLFF will be included as well, such as Ross Lockhart and Joe Pulver — possibly others I’m forgetting. That book will be released at NecronomiCon, another Lovecraft festival happening in Providence, Rhode Island (Lovecraft’s home town) in August.
Nikki is fun, super-energized, and overflowing with ideas. She talks as fast as anyone I’ve ever known! Here’s Nikki (r) with Alicia Graves (l).
Nikki gave me a copy of Imperial Youth Review, a new literary zine in which she had a story, as did Edward Morris and Nick Mamatas — and Nick Gucker had an illustration and Jess Gulbranson a review — to name only HPLFF guests. The second issue will have a Joe Pulver story.
Sam McCanna, the kindly mad genius behind Skurvy Ink (a t-shirt company that makes rock-and-roll style t-shirts, but instead of band logos and names, the shirts feature books, authors, and publishers, particularly in the weird, horror and bizarro genres) showed up with Imperial Youth Review t-shirts for me and Lena. The shirts bear the illustration from the first issue cover.
Sam also debuted a W.H. Pugmire t-shirt design, with art by Nick Gucker, in honor of Wilum’s birthday. Wilum seemed very excited and proud of the shirt, and everybody seemed to want one. Pretty fabulous! In the above picture, that’s Sam sitting next to Wilum Pugmire (both of them wearing the new W.H. Pugmire t-shirt, and Mike Davis, with Joe Pulver behind.
In the following picture, here’s Mike Davis showing off the artwork for the Pugmire t-shirt, with Wilum himself.
We met Dennis Weiler of publisher Fedogan & Bremer. They’re best known for Lovecraftian anthologies, but soon will publish Scott Nicolay’s debut collection Tuckahoe. I got my hands on the catalog Dennis is holding in the picture, and it looks like F&B has some interesting things coming up.
After the dinner break (we ate again at Columbia River Brewing — where else?). On our return to the theater, we considered watching the “At the Mountains of Madness Live on Stage” performance. We later heard this was really good, and wished we hadn’t missed it.
Instead, we Went upstairs for Shorts Block 2, and found it standing room only. In past years at the festival, Lena and I just went from theater to theater, always watching movies or panels or readings. This year, we found it easy to get into conversations in the halls and common areas, and barely watched any of the scheduled events..
Because we had skipped the after-party the night before, and didn’t need to get up early Sunday morning, we all planned to go to the after-party Saturday night. We also thought if we waited until 11, Tony Starlight’s would be packed, so we had what we considered a clever idea to skip the 9-11PM movie block and go to Tony Starlight’s at 9PM. Mike Davis had told Molly Tanzer we’d see her there, and Joe had said the same to Kelly Young and Brandi Jording (who were off having another nap). We tried calling and texting everyone to let them know we were headed over early. The problem was, the door person at Tony Starlight’s told us there was a $16 cover, and anyway they didn’t want any Lovecraftians in the place until 11PM.
We neaded back nearer the theater, to the Moon and Sixpence, a nice English-style pub where the after-party had been held in previous years. We found a table on the patio outside in the back, and discovered Molly Tanzer was already there with a bunch of people, including Nick Mamatas, Ross Lockhart, Cameron Pierce and his wife.
Joe had been claiming all weekend he’d drink a Scotch if somebody would buy him a good one — it had to be at least a 12-year-old single malt — which was noteworthy because, despite the bEast behaving in a way that might make some guess he’s intoxicated, he hadn’t actually had a drink in something like 15 years. I bought a 12-year Glenlivet for him, and one for myself.
While we sipped, I was lucky enough to listen in while Joe discussed a couple of anthology ideas with Ross Lockhart for Ross’s new publishing venture, Word Horde. It was interesting to listen to their back-and-forth, weighing possibilities and trying to determine which angles might be compelling. Overall, it sounded very much like the kind of discussion I’ve had many times, considering projects for my Hypnos record label. There seems so much overlap between music and literature, and I never stop being surprised how many of the lessons I learned running a label, and dealing with recording artists, translate directly to situations in the writing and publishing world.
Joe finished his Glenlivet, and claimed to enjoy it!
Before we left, Alicia mentioned that Scott Nicolay would be leaving early the next morning, and this was the last we’d see him. It was great to meet this good friend in the flesh. Too soon, he had to return home. The one thing that made it easier for everyone, saying goodbye, was that so many of us are planning to attend NecronomiCon in Providence, this coming August.
For most of us, though, HPLFF still had one more day yet to come.
Part I of this con report can be found here. If you don’t know who Mike, Joe, Lena and I are, read that first. Parts III through V are forthcoming.
Friday morning, we slept in a bit, and actually experienced a few hours of down time. We lounged around the house and enjoyed some great weather in the back yard.
When it was time to head down to the Hollywood district for events, we left a bit early to give us time to check Mike Davis into his con-provided hotel room at the Banfield, where most of the guests were booked. There was yet another SNAFU at the hotel, and no room available for Mike. We said “no thanks!” to the Banfield, and told Mike it was better all around if he just continued staying with us instead.
The first truly “official” event of the HPL Film Fest was the VIP Party, Friday afternoon at 3PM. Admission was restricted to festival guests, and a few non-guest ticket-holders who pledged at higher levels on the festival Kickstarter. The VIP party started things off across the street from the theater, at a little wine bar and bistro called Magnolia’s Corner.
When I snapped the above picture, the guy (whom I don’t know) in the Cthulhu mask started moving out of the picture, and taking off his mask. I told him, “Dude, you’re in a Cthulhu mask — you don’t have to get out of the picture!” So he pulled the mask back on, and moved back into the frame. Also in the picture, Joe Pulver talking to Edward Morris, and on the bench behind, Wilum Pugmire.
Here’s Portland’s historic Hollywood Theater, site of the HP Lovecraft Film Festival, before activities begin.
We waited outside briefly, which gave us a chance to figure out who’s who, and shake a few hands. I briefly met writer and editor Orrin Grey, whom I didn’t recognize at first despite being Facebook and Livejournal friends. He’s one of those sneaky people who doesn’t post a lot of pictures of himself! He edited the Fungi anthology I recently reviewed here, and has a recent story collection Never Bet the Devil I really want to check out.
I also spoke with filmmaker and musician Mars Homeworld. He’s best known for scoring a number of Lovecraftian films, including the excellent and apparently out-of-print documentary, Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown. Mars also directed Transcendent, scheduled to show at this year’s fest.
Here Joe Pulver, Wilum Pugmire and Mike Davis wait to get into VIP party. Between Mike and Wilum’s heads, you can see the pink hair of Rose O’Keefe of Eraserhead Press, and over Mike’s other shoulder, that’s illustrator Mike Dubisch, who is often but not exclusively seen in Strange Aeons Magazine. Behind Mike Dubisch, that’s writer Camille Alexa.
Here’s a Dubsisch cover for Strange Aeons issue #10 (which I picked up at the con, signed by Mike) to give you a taste of the awesome!
Inside the VIP party was a great chance to get everyone together in proximity, without distractions or obligations like panels, readings and film screenings. We had a chance to reconnect with people we knew, go up and shake hands with people we hadn’t previously met, and introduce each other around.
I was able to enjoy a few minutes with artist Lee Moyer, who is not only insanely talented, but also very knowledgable and informative on a thousand art-related topics (read his blog if you don’t believe me), and a super-nice guy as well. I teased him a little about losing to Nick Gucker in last year’s Pickman’s Apprentice art challenge, figuring a guy as accomplished as Lee could take a bit of needling. His credits are far too numerous to list or link here, but Lee’s art can be found on book covers (Kiernan!), calendars, video covers and games.
Lena and I had a great time with the fantastic writer and renowned tippler Molly Tanzer. Molly lives in Boulder, Colorado, an area known for its mountainous landscape, and the prevalence of an active, outdoorsy lifestyle among its residents. Lena and I are very much into hiking, running and mountain exploration, so we told Molly if she stuck around in Portland an extra day at next year’s HPLFF, we’d take her up to Mt. Hood. We had in mind something like hiking and sightseeing.
“No, not hiking!” Molly said. Molly doesn’t want to walk on trails. Molly wants to climb to the very top. Molly wants to conquer! “It’s only, what, 11,000 feet?” By Boulder standards, barely a tiny hill.
A trip to the mountain sounds fun. A climb to the TOP of the mountain? Not so sure…
We also spent a few minutes with yet another super-talented and unbelievably nice artist, Nick Gucker. Nick has always been an excellent fellow, but since he recently illustrated my story “Nectar of Strange Lips” for Lovecraft eZine’s April 2013 issue, I’ve raised Nick a further notch in my estimation. Truly among the all-time great, friendly and cool guys!
I feel like a broken record, describing people over and over as “wonderfully nice, friendly, also insanely talented,” but it happens to be true in so many cases, with such a large segment of people one encounters at this event.
Interestingly, the writers, artists and editors mostly seem to all know each other, because they come back year after year. Some filmmakers attend often, but many seem to show up for just one year when their film screens, and don’t know anybody outside their immediate group.
Here, the VIP party crowd sings Happy Birthday to Wilum Pugmire. Wilum was presented with a Cthulhu-themed green cake. Pictures exist all over Facebook, but I didn’t see it until it was mostly eaten.
Drinks and snacks were provided. Even after snacks, we were still hungry, so went to Columbia River Brewing. It’s a very good local brewpub, conveniently located a block from the theater, with lots of seating and a diverse menu. We ate here five times in three days.
After this, the actual H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival itself was underway. No more preamble! Mike Davis and Lena and I sat near the back of the main theater, while Joe remained outside, dealing with (and clearly enjoying) the many demands on his time and attention. Here are writers Cody Goodfellow, Edward Morris and Joe Pulver talking outside before things got underway. (photo by Thérèse Elaine)
In the lead-up to the opening ceremony, as well as between events in the theater, the projectors displayed a digital slide show of book covers, magazine covers and other art pertaining to festival guests. It was fun to see a few items relevant to us, projected large: the cover of Mike’s magazine Lovecraft eZine, the issue with my story in it, plus a story by Joe and Edward Morris, as well as writer Wendy Wagner who was also in attendance, with all our names on the cover. Lovecraft eZine cover artist and logo designer Leslie Herzfeld was also at the fest… so fully a half-dozen of us, all located in different places in the theater, must have said “Hey, cool, look!” when that cover image flashed on the screen.
There was a second promo for Lovecraft eZine, and also the cover of Joe’s book Portraits of Ruin, which includes a photo of Lena (taken by me) integrated into the collage art piece by Joe’s friend, artist J. Karl Bogartte.
In the brief video Mike Davis shot, Lena can be heard saying (when the Portraits of Ruin cover flashed on the screen) something like, “Look how big my face is!” That comes about midway through this clip. Before that, you can see my cool red pants as Mike follows us up the ramp.
After this brief introduction, we watched Shorts Block One. The short films are collected into blocks of less than 2 hours. Usually Block One is kind of a featured event, taking place after opening ceremonies in the big main theater.
The first film in this block, a Swedish-made short called Reset, was my favorite, and seemed to be the favorite of everyone I spoke to. In it, a little girl who lived on a remote farm listens to her mother read letters that arrive from her absent father. The opening and reading of the letters is an important, eagerly-awaited event for the girl, until she finds that the letters do not actually contain the words her mother has been reading to her.
We stuck around in the main theater for Prince of Darkness, a late 80s horror film by John Carpenter. It’s not one of his best, containing many awkward attempts at hipness or humor. Some of the occult content is really creepy and interesting, and I felt this was a film ripe for a remake.
After the film ended at 11 PM we drifted outside to find Joe, who had been schmoozing for the past four hours, and also Mike Davis who had vacated the theater during Price of Darkness. We briefly debated going to the after party at Tony Starlight’s Supper Club a few blocks down Sandy Boulevard, which had been the tentative plan. Everyone was tired, and Joe warned we should get an early start so as to snare a good table at the Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast the next morning. We headed home.
Almost there (way out in outer SE Portland, so there was no way we were heading back into town again), I received a text from Alicia Graves (see activity at Lovecraft Bar Thursday night in previous entry.) saying she couldn’t find us at Tony Starlight’s — where were we?!
Everyone in our group was ready to sleep, so I resolved to text Alicia back in the morning. Before I actually fell asleep, Alicia texted again, and called twice in rapid succession. Why was she so insistent? Maybe she was stranded down there, and didn’t have anyone to hang around with? Still, no way were we going back out. Sometimes the need for sleep refuses to be ignored.
We wouldn’t discover until the next day the reason for Alicia’s insistence. She was part of a surprise someone was trying to spring on us, which we’d unwittingly thwarted by heading home.
GriffinWords 