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.
I had intended to post the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival convention report blogs at the rate of one installment per day, then ended up getting sick. An ordinary cold evolved into a sinus infection.
Recovering now, and should post the last two installments of the con report in the next few days.
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.
I’m breaking my convention report into several blog entries. The first is “Part I – Before,” the name of which should make clear that it covers everything up to the actual beginning of the Film Festival on Friday afternoon.
Though the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and CthulhuCon didn’t officially start until Friday, “con weekend” started Tuesday for me and my wife Lena. Tuesday evening we went to PDX (that’s the airport — I’m philosophically opposed to calling Portland by that abbreviation) to pick up author, convention guest and noted weirdo Joe Pulver. Joe writes under his full name Joseph S. Pulver Sr. and you can read about him here.
Joe had been a good online and long-distance friend for a bit less than two years, but this was our first time meeting Joe face to face. In this internet age, many of us have experienced the shock or disorientation of meeting an online friend and finding little similarity between the expectation and the flesh-and-blood person. Probably because of so many Skype video chats, Joe looked, moved and spoke exactly like we expected he would. No weird surprises at all, just familiarity. My theory is that when it comes to meeting online friends, this potential shock can be diminished by speaking to them on the phone, at least. Even more helpful in matching one’s preconceptions to a semblance of the actual individual is the video chat, such as Facetime or Skype.
Joe had warned us that the 26 hour flight from Berlin to London to Dallas/Fort Worth to Portland would probably leave him sore and tired, but he arrived buzzing with energy and enthusiasm. While we waited in baggage claim, I emailed an important friend of Joe’s back in Berlin to let her know he’d arrived.
My clever wife had left a beef stew dinner simmering at home, so when the ravenous bEast (Joe’s nickname) arrived, there was food to be had. After dinner, Lena and I thought, “Surely now he’ll crash and sleep for 16 hours,” but he was still buzzing almost until midnight. Neither she nor I had traveled 26 hours that day, but we finally had to surrender and say, “OK, time to sleep.”
Wednesday I had to work the first half of the day, and after that I picked up our second guest, Mike Davis, editor of Lovecraft eZine. Also a guest at the convention, Mike had been offered a hotel room by the con organizers, but wanted to come a day earlier than the room was available. We offered to pick Mike up, let him stay with us Wednesday night, then take him down to the Hollywood district to get his room at the Banfield.
Back home, we dropped off Mike’s luggage and picked up Joe and Lena for a Mexican food lunch — not Portland’s best, but a place nearby with a huge menu offering something for everyone.
As with Joe the night before, Mike seemed instantly familiar to the rest of us. Further proof of my theory that if you don’t want your internet buddies to seem unfamiliar as aliens when you finally meet up, you ought to Skype or Facetime first!
After lunch, Joe wanted to take a trip to WalMart to pick up a few mundane essentials not readily available in Berlin. We ended up browsing slowly, ranging all over the entire store. Lena and Mike chatted, getting to know each other a little better. I tried to get Joe to buy a tiny outfit of Iron Man “top and bottom” underwear, but he wouldn’t do it. Possibly they would have been too small, anyway.
We also picked up a few items needed for dinner. As an American resident of Berlin for the past few years, Joe had a list of favorite foods he wanted to experience while stateside. Tonight it was grilled bratwurst (it only occurred to me later than Joe probably had no problem finding German sausage in Germany), plus corn on the cob and cole slaw.
After, we watched Berberian Sound Studio (see my earlier review here), at least until Joe started falling asleep sitting up on the couch. That night, nobody had to be convinced we could use some sleep.
Thursday morning I made a giant frittata and 2 pounds of thick-cut bacon. The enormous vat of eggs and cheese and shredded potatoes took an eternity to bake, but the end result, combined with the mountain of bacon, kicked off a nice week-long stretch of overeating. Grub!
Our plan for the early part of the day was to take a scenic drive out the Columbia River Historic Highway. Mike wasn’t feeling well, and decided to stay at the house and rest up. We made it as far as the Women’s Forum Overlook before we found the highway was closed for construction.
We sidetracked to the main highway, and reconnected with the scenic route past the construction, near Latourell Falls. This drive, when it’s open, is one of my favorite outings on which to take visitors.
The drive gives a great overview of the gorge from several perspectives, and passes by a half-dozen very different waterfalls, including the king of them all, Multnomah Falls.
After the detour, we had to cut the drive a bit short so we’d have time to make scratch chili (the next item on Joe’s “must eat American foods while I’m here” list) and finish dinner before the evening’s pre-party.
On our way to the party, we tried to check Mike into his hotel. The festival organizers planned to provide him with a room for Thursday through Sunday nights, and he was only planning to stay with us Wednesday night until his room was ready. There was a problem with the reservation, so we decided Mike would stay with us Thursday night as well, and take another crack at the hotel on Friday.
While at the Banfield Hotel, we met Wilum Pugmire, who needed a ride, so he hitched along. What group of Lovecraftians wouldn’t want to add the fabulous Wilum to the fold?
The pre-party was an optional, open-admission event which took place before many HPLFF guests had arrived in town. Outside the Lovecraft Bar, waiting to get in, we met a few other attendees, like Cameron Pierce, Rose O’Keefe and Jeff Burk, for whose book Shatnerquest the pre-party doubled as a book release party.
Inside, Lena and I sat with Wilum, and Joe drifted around the room with Alicia Graves, another Facebook friend who had just arrived.
After an introduction mentioning Jeff Burk and his new book Shatnerquest, Ross Lockhart read a section from his excellent debut, Chick Bassist. There was too much echo on the public address for a reading, but the general idea off Ross’s book came across.
There was a wild and bizarro-appropriate musical performance by Effword, followed by a crazy circus sideshow performance by a sister trio. Nails hammered into faces, holes power-drilled into sinuses, and so on.
Eventually they built a many-layered construct of beds of nails and scantily dressed sisters, on top of which stood the third sister spinning a hula hoop.
Throughout the evening, Jeff Burk offered a series of raffle giveaways. I won a raffle prize — both of Jeff’s Shatner books, Shatner Quake and Shatnerquest — and Joe Pulver won another prize, a Lovecraft Bar t-shirt. Our group dominated the raffle winnings!
Apart from this once-yearly event related to the HPL fest, the Lovecraft Bar is worthy of mention in its own right. It’s on the small side (and was totally packed for this event) with a suitably goth/horror decor, and walls so packed with photos and art, I wish I’d had time to look more closely. Portland is fortunate to have such a cool Lovecraft-themed bar, to go along with the film festival a few miles away. I was surprised how many Lovecraftians present, many of whom were Portland residents, or many-time attendees of the HPLFF con, had never been to Lovecraft Bar before.
This relatively late Thursday night marked the end of our pre-festival activities. The next day, Friday, the real action would begin!
I’ve been preparing my blog report on the recent H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival, and have had to break it into several parts. So much happened. It’s hard to keep everything straight, to remember the sequence of events, which people I met on which days.
Here’s the statement I made on the event’s Facebook page:
Two primary impressions remain in the aftermath of the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival:
1. Wow, I got to have fun with SO MANY cool and amazing people!
2. There were SO MANY other interesting and cool folks I barely spoke with, or didn’t even get to meet!
All weekend, such a great whirlwind of stuff going on. Such abundance of opportunities for friendship and learning and amusement and exchange of ideas. Seriously, if you’re at all interested in this kind of stuff and don’t attend next year, you’re missing out on something great.
While I get my memories and words organized, here are a few other HPLFF con reports by people I met along the way.
I’ve been way too busy during this year’s H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and CthulhuCon to blog, but I’ve posted lots of pictures and comments on Facebook so you can follow me there.
My wife Lena and I have had Joe Pulver aka notorious author and provocateur Joseph S. Pulver Sr., as well as Mike Davis of Lovecraft eZine staying at our house since the middle of last week. Not only has it been fun having them around, but taking part in the festival as part of the “posse” of two guys as well-known and beloved in the Lovecraft scene as Mike and Joe has been especially entertaining.
I’ll recap events and gather photos here soon.
This afternoon, I’ll be reading in the EOD Center a block or two from the main theater. I’m reading something very short, about 10 minutes long. It’s in the “Reading 5” block from 4PM to 5PM, an hour block shared with two other writers. INFO HERE. Hope to see a few of you there!
No, I have not written three entire book reviews in under 24 hours.
I’ve been way behind on posting reviews of some of the books I’ve read, including some I finished reading months ago. This backlog was stressing me out! Some of the reviews were mostly written and just needed to be assembled. In other cases, handwritten notes just needed to be typed up.
It feels good to clear the decks a bit.
I will probably cut down on the number of reviews I’ll write for a while… after I get through a few things like At Fear’s Altar and Jagannath and Staring Into the Abyss and Hair Side, Flesh Side.
I do love to talk about books and writers, and possibly help in some small way to boost those that deserve it. I also think it’s helpful, in a selfish way, for writers to think carefully and critically about other people’s writing. What works, what doesn’t, and why. It’s always seemed to me that writers derive more benefit from giving critiques than receiving them.
Despite my enjoyment of this book review thang, I need to scale back, at least for a while, the self-imposed sense of obligation. I’ll still talk about the books I’ve read, probably more briefly and off-the-cuff.
Many of the 22 short stories in Every House is Haunted, the debut collection by Ian Rogers, feel connected. As the title suggests, this is a book about hauntings, though the stories Rogers tells venture beyond the well-worn template of the haunted house tale. On top of this unifying theme, several stories also feature paranormal investigators, something like agents Mulder and Scully of the X-Files, or hint at a shadowy group overseeing such intrusions. Rogers seeks to establish a common world in which paranormal events and entities are controlled, studied and policed by a broad and shadowy organization devoted to these functions.
Rogers starts off strong with “Aces,” on its surface a routine family drama in which Toby’s sister has trouble in school and exhibits weird behavior, like many adolescents. This seeming normalcy masks the extreme strangeness of what’s really going on with the sister, who is obsessed with finding “aces,” playing cards which she discovers in strange places, such has hovering in mid-air. Toby only comes to understand his sister’s unusual nature when paranormal investigators arrive and explain.
Another strange and surreal piece early in the book, “A Night at the Library With the Gods” again displays Rogers’ skill for creating a familiar, mostly normal world, then gradually increasing the strangeness until the reader recognizes they’re in something more akin to nightmare. In “The Dark and the Young,” linguist Wendy takes a mysterious job, translating an occult “black book.” Some of the rituals described in this bizarre text make Wendy and some of her coworkers hesitant to participate.
A few less mature stories are sprinkled throughout, and in my opinion Rogers could have made a stronger debut impression by omitting these. I understand the desire to include early work, and indeed this flaw is so common in first collections I’m hesitant to mention it. At any rate, the few less-compelling pieces are more than offset by a high overall quality. The more recent stories seem generally darker, more macabre or surreal.Rogers closes the collection with a powerful series of tales, deftly and confidently told.
In “The Inheritor,” Daniel Ramis unexpectedly inherits a house from his father, with whom he had a terrible relationship. He visits the childhood home, a place evoking the terrible memory of his sister’s early death. Daniel always thought his father had sold the house when he moved, and can’t understand why he’d held onto it. Along with the house, Daniel is also left contents of safe deposit box: a gun, and a note from his father hinting at explanation. All that remains is for Daniel to discover what responsibility comprises the most horrible aspect of his father’s legacy.
A husband in “The Candle” gives his wife a guilt trip about possibly forgetting to blow out a candle before coming to bed. Time passes, and feeling guilty, he goes downstairs and finds something weird and disquieting in the dark. Here’s another story that starts off realistic, then takes a weird disconnect, making a subtle and eerie observation of the ways we open gaps in relationships through small acts of selfishness or distrust.
The last tale, “The Secret Door” makes a powerful ending to the book. Sarah and husband move into an old country house, and find a secret door bricked up on back side. She sleeps, and wakes again to find her husband’s not there. Other details, such as the bed and their car, inexplicably have changed. The story veers more deeply into surrealism. Sarah envisions a boy yelling from the bottom of a well, telling her she’s the one who put him there, hinting at connection to her earlier decision never to have kids. Her experience swerves between alternating realities, now alone and sick, then with her husband telling her she’s not well. It depicts increasing detachment from reality, a creepy back-and-forth between the real and the surreal.
Every House is Haunted is an above-average short fiction collection, especially noteworthy as a debut. The writing is both transparent enough for mainstream readers, and artful enough for those who like their prose with an edge. At his best, Rogers is very compelling, and the growth demonstrated within these pages suggest he’s one to watch.
Die, You Donut Bastards is the latest collection of short fiction and prose poetry by Cameron Pierce. The whimsical title and cover art may suggest a mostly humorous approach to Bizarro, a genre which can range from arty surrealism to shock-focused extremity, and also at times encompassing more conventional storytelling with a subtler twinge of the surreal. While many authors focus on a single approach, Pierce here shows himself capable of covering all the bases.
Most of the pieces are just a page or two, and focus on wild invention and playful absurdity. I detect in these shorter works the influence of Russell Edson, the master of surrealist prose poetry, though Pierce is less oblique, less blatantly symbolic, and more confrontational. Readers approaching this book from outside the Bizarro realm can expect a lot of zany humor and intentional absurdity, but will also discover a great degree of subtlety and sensitivity. In fact, those seeking a full-on Bizarro blast may be surprised by the restraint and emotional honesty present in the longer stories.
The lengthiest of these, “Lantern Jaws,” is a lovely tale of wonder and emotion, both subtle and graceful, reminiscent of something Kelly Link might create. In it, a teenage boy falls in love with a girl schoolmate who carries a vaguely Lovecraftian doom or curse. It’s a gentle, touching story, characteristics which may seem at odds with some of the extremes on display elsewhere in the book, yet it’s also quite dreamlike and surreal.
Another longer story, “Death Card” shows a couple, Tristan and Emily, shifting from youthful, carefree obsessions, such as Tristan’s comics and his collection of vinyl figures, to more adult concerns now that Emily is pregnant. Tristan goes along, half-reluctantly boxing up his collection to make a room for the baby. The story focuses the feelings of impending loss and disconnection from self, arising from Tristan’s recognition that life’s simple freedoms and youthful pleasures are soon to change.
In “Pablo Riviera, Depressed, Overweight, Age 31, Goes to the Mall,” an odd outsider catalogs an endless stream of pleasures, mostly fast food, during a trip to a shopping mall. This litany of cheeseburgers, taco corn dogs, and other excessive treats could be seen as Pablo’s attempt to numb the pain of his solitude and isolation, or perhaps simply exhibits the weirdly alienating effect of our obsession on grotesque, commercialized pleasures.
“Disappear” is the weird story of a pregnant woman’s baby disappearing right out of her belly. It turns out the fetus was stolen by horror author Stephen King, who apparently steals unborn babies and installs them into his typewriter as fuel or grist for new stories.
In “Mitchell Farnsworth,” one of the more transgressive pieces, Katie recollects once having sex with her boyfriend, the Mitchell Farnsworth of the title, while watching the movie Alien. After Mitchell moves on, the story recounts Katie’s long string of boyfriends, forming a detailed catalog of explicit sex acts, foods and drinks consumed, and the movies she watched with each — often Alien, sometimes The Exorcist or other horror films. Katie is increasingly stuck, unable to stop and reflect on this pattern, until she hears news about Mitchell Farnsworth.
In Die, You Donut Bastards, the shorter, weirder stories are greatest in number, and seem more geared toward a Bizarro audience. The longer stories, comprising about half the collection’s page count, exhibit greater emotional realism and even a bit more seriousness mixed in with the strange pop surrealism. I enjoyed the provocative range of styles, moods and approaches on display in Die, You Donut Bastards. It makes me eager to check out more Pierce’s work.
GriffinWords 