When I was 25 I discovered The Doors. The Doors were a lot darker than a lot of what I had been listening to before then. Their sound was magic.

Their sound is still magic.

Being 25 was a weird age for me. I felt out of phase with everyone else and the rest of the world. Adrift in my own life. A rebel without a clue.

The Doors music and Jim’s voice touched something in me. It awakened my inner hippy. It spoke to me in a way that no other music had ever done, I felt connected to it. To something bigger than myself. I’m sure that sounds really weird.

I was sad to learn yesterday of the passing of Ray Manzarek who played keyboards and founded the band with Jim Morrison back in 1965. He was 74 years old.

John Densmore (the drummer) has said about Ray: “There was no keyboard player on the planet more appropriate to support Jim Morrison’s words. Ray, I felt totally in sync with you musically. It was like we were of one mind, holding down the foundation for Robby and Jim to float on top of. I will miss my musical brother.”

The music industry and fans have lost another music icon to the Gig in the Sky.

“The movie will begin in 5 moments”
The mindless Voice announced
“All those unseated, will await The next show”
We filed slowly, languidly into the hall.

The auditorium was vast, & silent.
As we seated & were darkened
The Voice continued:
“The program for this evening is not new.You have seen this entertainment thru & thru.

You’ve seen your birth, your life & death; you might recall all of the rest
– (did you have a good world when you died?) – enough to base a movie on?”

- Jim Morrison

Below is the press release for the book.

Press Release: Jack the Ripper to return fall 2013

1888: One hundred and twenty-five years ago, a killer stalked the streets of London’s Whitechapel district, brutally—some would say ritualistically—murdering five women (that we know of): Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly.

The story of Jack the Ripper captured lurid headlines and the public’s imagination, and the first fictionalization of the Ripper killings, John Francis Brewer’s The Curse Upon Mitre Square appeared in October of 1888, mere weeks after the discovery of Jack’s first victim. Since then, hundreds of stories have been written about Bloody Jack, his victims, and his legacy. Authors ranging from Marie Belloc Lowndes to Robert Bloch to Harlan Ellison to Roger Zelazny to Alan Moore have added their own tales to the Ripper myth. Now, as we arrive at the quasquicentennial of the murders, we bring you a few tales more.

From Word Horde and the editor who brought you The Book of Cthulhu and The Book of Cthulhu II comes Tales of Jack the Ripper, featuring new and classic fiction by many of today’s darkest dreamers, including Laird Barron, Ramsey Campbell, Ed Kurtz, Joe R. Lansdale, Joseph S. Pulver, Sr., Stanley C. Sargent, E. Catherine Tobler, and many more.

Table of Contents

Whitechapel Autumn, 1888 — Ann K. Schwader
A Host of Shadows — Alan M. Clark and Gary A. Braunbeck
Jack’s Little Friend — Ramsey Campbell
Abandon All Flesh — Silvia Moreno-Garcia
The God of the Razor — Joe R. Lansdale
The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker — Ennis Drake
Ripping — Walter Greatshell
Something About Dr. Tumblety — Patrick Tumblety
The Truffle Pig — T. E. Grau
Ripperology — Orrin Grey
Hell Broke Loose — Ed Kurtz
Where Have You Been All My Life? — Edward Morris
Juliette’s New Toy — Joseph S. Pulver, Sr.
Villains by Necessity — Pete Rawlik
When the Means Just Defy the End — Stanley C. Sargent
A Pretty for Polly — Mercedes Yardley
Termination Dust — Laird Barron
Once November — E. Catherine Tobler
Silver Kisses — Ann K. Schwader

Tales of Jack the Ripper is coming fall 2013 from Word Horde

$15.99 Trade Paperback: 978-1-939905-00-0
Ebook also available

Cover Art by Arnaud de Vallois

To request a copy for review, or to arrange an interview, please email publicity@wordhorde.com

Word Horde · PO Box 2074 · Petaluma, CA 94953-2074 · www.wordhorde.com

Praise for Ross E. Lockhart’s The Book of Cthulhu and The Book of Cthulhu II:

“The enduring allure of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, now nearly a century old, is evident in this representative anthology of modern tales, most of which were written in the last decade. The breadth of cosmic horrors they evoke range from the parochial fear of monsters found in Michael Shea’s ‘Fat Face,’ to the apocalyptic doom forecasted in Ramsey Campbell’s ‘The Tugging.’ Some of the stories, notably Brian Lumley’s ‘The Fairground Horror’ and Brian McNaughton’s self-consciously satirical ‘The Doom that Came to Innsmouth,’ are ripe with Lovecraftian references. Most others, including Joe R. Lansdale’s weird western ‘The Crawling Sky’ and Laird Barron’s backwoods monster tale ‘The Men from Porlock’ (original to the book), are more oblique and allusive. To the book’s credit, none of the twenty-seven stories read like slavish Lovecraft pastiche, which makes this volume all the more enjoyable.” —Publishers Weekly (Starred Review)

“Gathering Cthulhu-inspired stories from both 20th and 21st-century authors, this collection provides such a huge scope of styles and takes on the mythology that there are sure to be a handful that surprise and inspire horror in even the most jaded reader.” —Josh Vogt, Examiner.com

“There are no weak stories here—every single one of the 27 entries is a potential standout reading experience. The Book of Cthulhu is nothing short of pure Lovecraftian gold. If fans of H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos don’t seek out and read this anthology, they’re not really fans – it’s that simple.” —Paul Goat Allen, BN.com

“…thanks to the wide variety of contributing authors, as well as Lockhart’s keen understanding of horror fiction and Lovecraft in particular, [The Book of Cthulhu] is the best of such anthologies out there.” —Alan Cranis, Bookgasm.com

“The Book of Cthulhu is one hell of a tome.” —Brian Sammons, HorrorWorld.org

“…an impressive tribute to the enduring fascination writers have with Lovecraft’s creation. [...] Editor Ross E. Lockhart has done an excellent job of ferreting out estimable stories from a variety of professional, semi-professional, and fan venues [...] to establish a sense of continuity and tradition.” —Stefan Dziemianowicz, Locus

“…a stunning collection of Lovecraft inspired tales all centered around the infamous Cthulhu myth.” —Drake Llywelyn, Dark Shadows Book Reviews

“As he did for his previous anthology, Lockhart has cast his net far and wide to haul in outstanding stories from publications both well-known and obscure, none sampled more than once. He has also commissioned four new stories, several so good that they are likely to be selected for reprint anthologies in the future.” —Stefan Dziemianowicz, Locus

“…any fan of Lovecraft can’t afford to miss out on this one.” —Justin Steele, The Arkham Digest

“The second volume of The Book of Cthulhu exemplifies the richness of Lovecraft’s legacy: gloomy terror, mystery, thrills, vivid action, chilling visions, satire, science fiction, humor—all of that, and then some, is crammed into more than 400 pages awaiting readers eager for some apocalyptic horror.” —Dejan Ognjanovic, Rue Morgue

When I was a kid there was a Winchell’s up the road from us. I can remember the place looked a bit rough but I think it was just a bit worn out. If I remember right the place was decorated in yellow and brown tiles with yellow and brown plastic tables and chairs. You know the picnic table type table and chairs, the whole thing bolted to the floor.

The smell of the place was of course amazing, but it’s so hard to describe exactly what that smell was. It smelled of strong black coffee, cigarettes and of course donuts. But there was another smell as well and I wish I could find the words to describe it.

It was a big treat to go there and I think I mostly went there with Pop. I have one clear memory of going there with Mom though. It had snowed a lot and so we decided we’d walk up there for a donut and a hot chocolate. As we started walking up the alley Mom slipped in the snow and fell. We both started laughing really hard, so as she was still laughing she was trying to get up and fell again. Which just made us laugh harder.

I want a donut now. Drat!

When I first started blogging, way back in the days of Live Journal, there was a sense of community about it all. To me there didn’t seem to be any pressure to write witty posts about stuff all the time. I wrote about what I did that day, what the weather was like and what was going on in my head. It was a nice place to just write for the sake of writing.

Now that I have my own blog and my own website I felt under pressure to write deep thought provoking posts about current events, life changing choices and all kinds of things. I felt that this was no place for writing about going to Morrisons, that Daisy puked again, or that we had insulation put in. None of that seems to fit in with what other bloggers were writing about. Or so it seemed to me.

But since when did what I write about have to fit in with others? This blog is supposed to reflect my life, my thoughts, my experiences and all that goes with it. It’s supposed to be that little peek into my life. I’ll admit, I need to change my view on blogging. For a long time now I had envisioned this blog as something that would become popular, make money and I’d achieve something with it. It would most of all have a point to it, a theme. But blogging and writing has never meant any of those things to me, while it would be nice if all of that happened, it’s not what I set out to do when I started blogging. I started out just to do something that I enjoy doing, and that’s write. To share my thoughts with others was extra.

So Dear Reader, welcome to my life. There will be random pictures, videos, thoughts on decorating, cleaning, books, movies, video games and so much more. The punctuation will be awful, the grammar will be equally as bad and unless the spell checker catches it or I notice it the spelling wont be that great either. But I’m not here to win awards, I’m here to write and if you’re still here, you’re here to read.

“On The Turning Away”

There was a well, about ten feet from the back porch. On Monday Mother would put the wash boiler on the kitchen stove and fill it with water from the well, bucket by bucket. She boiled all the sheets and towels in it. When they had boiled enough, she took them out with a broom handle and they were put into a tub which was put on a chair turned on its side. There was another tub, on another chair with cold water in it. She scrubbed the clothes on a wash board, then put them in the cold rinse water. A wringer was screwed on tight to the rinse tub and the clothes were rung through it into the basket. They were taken out by my Sisters Eleanor and Mysle and hung outside on a clothes line to dry.

The next day Mother and my Sisters would iron them with ‘Flat Irons’ which were heated on the stove. The fire had to be kept going to heat the irons. I was given the job of keeping wood in the wood box. Father always kept a lot of wood cut in the woodshed. Rachel and I would bring it in.

Pops other half Dale was quickly informed of the plot and so began close to a year of ‘Secret Stuff’ emails between me and Dale. I don’t think either of us can count just how many times we almost blew it and spilled the beans. In the end I told Pop we would come visit in March, that way we only had to pretend we’d messed the month up.

The year flew past and all of a sudden Mal and I were headed to Vegas. None of it seemed real, not until the next morning at the Luxor. We got up earlier than we’d expected so wandered downstairs to find the restaurant Pop and Dale were going to and then to have some coffee at the Starbucks around the corner. As it got closer to 10am (our agreed meeting time) I started to get more nervous and excited.

It was finally time, we walked past the restaurant and Mal looked to see if he could see them. Then we walked around until we were far enough away from the path we knew they’d take to the restaurant so we could see them without them seeing us.

Mal walked closer, as we both knew that neither Pop or Dale would recognize him with his beard and longish hair. Soon Mal came back saying they were there. I started to walk quickly towards them and managed to get right behind Pop.

I started saying loudly ‘Sir, excuse me sir’ but he was ignoring me! Come to find out later that there are people in the casinos employed to do nothing but bug you to buy stuff and Pop thought I was a casino employee there to bug him. Finally I grabbed his wrist and that got him to turn around.

I think you can safely say that he was a bit surprised don’t you?

I don’t think it sunk in at first that I was really there. I couldn’t have been happier to see Pop so happy and surprised.

We sat down for breakfast and I don’t think Pop still really believed that we were there. He asked how long we’d been planning it and some of the details. Dale and I had fun telling him about all the stuff we’d talked about, planned and plotted.

I’ve relived this moment in my head lots and it still brings a huge smile to my face.

I put one over on my Pop big time, and I’m proud of it!

While trying to set up a program that will collect stats for the blog I stumbled across a blog that I’d totally forgotten about starting. I was writing about normal everyday stuff, it was hot, I was tired, Mal and I did this, that or the other and I realized at some point I lost the ability to just write about life in general.

Yesterday it started snowing about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I joked that it was ‘snailing’ because it was hail and snow mixed. By about 6 or 7 it’d finally worked out that it just wanted to snow. Which it did in total of about 6 hours. It was so cool to look out and see all the snow on everything and Mal got home easily which made me feel better. I hate it when the weather is crap and he’s stuck walking or on a bus.

I watched The Woman in Black yesterday afternoon. I enjoyed it, but I don’t think it deserved all the hype it got. I mean sure it was the first Hammer film since the 80′s and that in itself makes it worth the watch but I found the film to be a bit lukewarm in parts. Still it was really good and having discovered there is actually a book that the film was based on I’ll be adding that to my Amazon Wishlist.

Today we woke up to a lot less snow than we went to bed with, and by lunch time it was almost all gone. Mal went to the store while I did a bit of cleaning and put a load of laundry on. I’ve spent some time working on the huge project of transferring all of our CD’s to iTunes, I only have a few box-sets left to do and that will finally be over! It’s taken me about a year to get them all on.

Tonight with dinner we watched The Cold Light of Day which has Bruce Willis in it  and Sigourney Weaver as one of the baddies. It was a good film, a lot of twists and turns and at least for me, lots of unexpected stuff. You really can’t go wrong with Bruce and Sigourney in the same film.

Also tonight instead of snow, we have rain and lots of it. Funny to think yesterday I was wondering how long the snow would stick around and 24 hours later it’s all gone.

I can’t remember just what I was being a drama queen about but I was clearly having one of my ‘OMG the world hates me! Woe!’ moments. I said something like ‘Well no one gives a shit anyway’ on Twitter.

I have a wonderful friend on Twitter, she is witty, very smart, intuitive and she has the amazing ability to use words to paint pictures A talent that I only wish I had.

So there I was full of woe as me thoughts. Tweeting ‘Well no one gives a shit anyways.’

I get a reply simply saying *flings poo* from this wonderful person.

I have to admit, it took me a bit before I worked out exactly what she meant by that.

She gave a shit. She actually flung a shit at me. She cared, she’d seen my tweet and instead of sending hugs or anything else, she told me in such an amazingly simple way she gave a shit.

So if I ever *fling poo* at you, know that I care, I do give a shit.

Make sure you *fling poo* at those that you care about, remind them that you give a shit, even if it’s random and for no other reason. Everyone needs to be reminded that there are people who care about them. Even when they aren’t being drama queens.

I have been friends with Ross for a long time now and during that time I’ve been lucky enough to get peeks at this book as he wrote it. My last peek was a long time ago, and I’m glad of that. It meant that I could sit and enjoy the book like it was brand new, and boy did I enjoy it!

It starts with Ross putting you in the picture, you hear the thoughts of one of the characters. It  makes you part of the story, you feel quickly that you have a vested interest in what happens to the people in this book. Ross brings his characters to life in such a way they form in your imagination. He gives you a taster of who they all are, just enough to get your imagination going and soon it’s running off on its own, working out what the background looks like, how the light plays on someones hair, what the music sounds like.

Chick Bassist is like a rollercoaster in book form. You jump on and wait while you’re going up that slope excited for the rush that you know has to be coming. When that rush hits, you hold your hands up and scream, you can’t wait for the next slope so you can build up that rush again. When you get to the end you’re pleasantly tired, but with a great big grin on your face as you rush to the back of the line to have just one more ride.