CUSTOM MADE SLAVES
Initially published as part of the aptly named Bizarre line of S&M themed erotica, this book has little to offer from a literary standpoint but is plenty wild.
Initially published as part of the aptly named Bizarre line of S&M themed erotica, this book has little to offer from a literary standpoint but is plenty wild.
Here’s an interesting artifact I recently unearthed from my closet, a horror novel packaged as a tabloid newspaper, complete with (bogus) ads and photos. Printed in South Carolina by someone calling himself “Edward Hyde” (a pen name, obviously!), it’s a lurid, nasty, occasionally funny first person account of a cannibalistic serial killer named Edgar, told in the form of a lengthy letter he writes to a supermarket rag called “The Grapevine.” Here’s an interesting artifact I recently unearthed from my closet, a horror novel packaged as a tabloid newspaper, complete with (bogus) ads and photos. Printed in South Carolina by someone calling himself “Edward Hyde” (a pen name, obviously!), it’s a lurid, nasty, occasionally funny first person account of a cannibalistic serial killer named Edgar, told in the form of a lengthy letter he writes to a supermarket rag called “The Grapevine.”
This remains one of the great curiosities of the Victorian era, a children’s book of considerable richness, bizarre, and not a little darkness. You’ll find few books of any sort with as strong a grasp of otherworldly apprehension as these “Anyhow Stories,” not all of which are explicitly horrific.
CUJO carries Stephen King’s well-known penchant for bloat to hellacious extremes. It includes just about every extraneous detail you can think of.
The first novel by Austin Williams, CRIMSON ORGY has a suitably nerdy framework: it opens and closes with articles about an obscure sixties era splatter epic called CRIMSON ORGY, which gained notoriety due to rumors that it contained footage of an actual killing. We learn what actually occurred during the making of CRIMSON ORGY in the bulk of the novel, and the production turns out to be every bit as sordid as it’s been cracked up to be.
This fitfully trashy paperback original is viewed by many as a forerunner of the splatterpunk movement. Its gritty urban setting certainly sets it apart from most early-1980s horror fiction (and makes it something of a companion-piece to John Shirley’s CELLARS, which appeared the same year), although in truth CREEPERS isn’t nearly as subversive as its reputation suggests. Most of the book’s famed splatter, in fact, is confined to the final 30 pages.
Of the thirty-some novels by Ramsey Campbell, this is only the second to be written in the first person.
An example of something that’s all too common in horror fiction: a paperback novel whose contents diverge quite radically from the packaging. That packaging portends a trashy horror fest a la Stephen King at his most lurid, and indeed the first half of the book delivers just that, with a naive English traveler finding himself stuck in a rural Austrian village. Eventually he enters a foreboding castle and discovers…something.
There’s never been another novel like this one, and that includes those of its author, the brilliant James Graham Ballard. CRASH was adapted from a short piece that initially appeared in Ballard’s ATROCITY EXHIBITION (1969).
This gorgeously designed graphic novel fleshes out an ancient Inuit folktale.