By ERIC J. GUIGNARD (Cemetery Dance; 2018)

This is the debut anthology of Eric J. Guignard, a prolific editor and author, and it’s a beauty.  Among Guignard’s previous publications is a “primer” devoted to the work of Steve Resnic Tem, and the stories collected here aren’t far removed from the literate and surreal charge of Tem’s fiction.  Like Tem, Guignard has a talent for mixing the literary and the pulpy in a pleasing and readable manner.

The subject matter of these stories includes pulp-friendly conceptions like Spontaneous combustion (in “A Case Study in Natural Selection and How It Applies to Love”), gangsters taking on otherworldly creatures (“The Inveterate Establishment of Daddano & Co.”), a curse that among other things renders several men invisible (“A Curse and A Kiss”), werewolves (“Last Night…”), a supernaturally endowed doll (“A Journey of Great Waves”), swarms of mutant bugs (“Certain Sights of An Afflicted Woman”) and a sasquatch (“A Quaint Ol’ Bigfoot Tale”).

Then there are those stories that don’t fit into any particular category of any sort.  The wistful and poetic “Vancouver Fog” is once such tale, as is “Momma,” about the corpse of a man’s recently deceased mother that undergoes a most unexpected metamorphosis.  Then there’s the completely bizarre “Dreams of A Little Suicide,” told from the point of view of dwarf actor playing a munchkin on the set of THE WIZARD OF OZ—a story that takes place in large part after said dwarf has committed suicide!

In all cases the tales are marked by elegant and unforced prose that regardless of how fanciful the subject matter may be is always rooted in recognizable emotions.  That’s evident in the powerful emanations of loneliness and despair that suffuse “Whispers of the Earth,” a story about a widower faced with a vast sinkhole that also delivers a satisfyingly surreal denouement, and the hard-won wisdom of “Last Days of the Gunslinger, John Amos,” about a character living in an apocalyptic landscape dominated by otherworldly creatures with the observation that “Whereas once a man’s life wasn’t worth a nickel to him, every living person now had become a precious blessing.”

Such mature insight is rare in modern horror fiction.  Even rarer is the ability to render it in non-boring, page-turning fashion; THAT WHICH GROWS WILD handily accomplishes both attributes, being one of 2018’s standout books.