I just read both of Randy Bachman's books, Tales from the Vinyl Tap and Beyond the Tap. First one was kind of interesting, the second one was kind of, "Yeah, I can see why Burton Cummings would hate this fucking guy". Now reading Greg Allman's autobiography. I'm not big on the Allmans (though they have some amazing songs), but the book is quite good.
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This is mostly for Lorne. An amazing blog that covers trashy horror novels among lots of other really cool stuff. If you haven't seen this yet, check it out! Hours of reading here.
http://glorioustrash.blogspot.com/I don't go to church. Kneeling bags my nylons.
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That site is fun, Andrew, thanks for sharing the link!
I am closing in on the end of The Great and Secret Show, and man, it feels like an overcomplicated and less charming retread of Weaveworld in a lot of ways, but I will finish it off and maybe jump into one of my hardcover music bios next. Has anyone here read In the Pleasure Groove by John Taylor or Strange Things Happen by Anday Summers who could give me a recommendation between the two?
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Just finnished the Charles Band biography, and now I'm starting The Cannon Film Guide pt 2 1985-1987"No presh from the Dresh!"
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Originally posted by Marshall Crist View PostSwede, how was the Band book?"No presh from the Dresh!"
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Originally posted by The Silly Swede View PostJust finnished the Charles Band biography, and now I'm starting The Cannon Film Guide pt 2 1985-1987
VHS will never die!
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I have at last gotten around to reviewing the final pair in the YEAR’S BEST HORROR STORIES series. I know y’all were prolly really disappointed I didn’t post these 2 weeks ago as I said I would; if you were holding your breath, you can exhale now.
A distinguishing aspect of YBHS #21 is that over half of the stories have a first person narrative structure, which is an unusually high percentage. Another involves a common trope in horror, the mysterious female leading willing men (and some women) to their destruction; more than a couple here center around that. Curiously, for the first time there are no profiles for authors (I thought maybe Wagner had become embarrassed by the selections, but biographies returned in #22). And in the main introduction to this edition, Wagner again condemns certain trends (“plotless violence and explicit sex”), yet there are still examples of that throughout the book (though I’ll concede that’s a subjective claim). Wagner even attacks the writers he disdains by speculating they might be virgins, which is ironic considering how many authors here have male central characters whose social awkwardness is drawn so well, they almost seem autobiographical.
Anyway, I liked three of the briefer stories that appeared all in a row: Mary Ann Mitchell’s “The Hyacinth Girl,” Adam Meyer’s “Mind Games,” and C.S. Fuqua’s “Mama’s Boy,” as well as Ed Gorman’s “The Ugly File,” Yvonne Navarro’s “Feeding the Masses” (humorous but very dark), and Kim Newman’s “Week Woman.” One of the best tales I’ve come across in a long time is W.M. Shockley’s epic “A Father’s Gift,” about a son who is skeptical that he’s inherited his rabbi dad’s ability to clairvoyantly dream about future mass murders, and tormented that he might have. Honorable Mention goes to Carrie Richerson’s “Apotheosis.” Even Wayne Allen Sallee’s offering - which seemed to be a heartfelt dedication to a fallen law enforcement officer - wasn’t terrible. (The same can’t be said about his contribution in #22.) This also contained two of the silliest stories in the series, Rand Soellner’s “Mom School” and Michael A. Arnzen’s “Spring Ahead, Fall Back.” And there’s a story by Andrew C. Ferguson called “The Devil’s Advocate,” appearing one year after Andrew Neiderman published his novel with the same name, which of course was made into the movie with Al Pacino and Keanu Reeves. The plots are marginally similar, and I thought the coincidence warranted a citation.
YBHS #22, started off well with another consecutive trio of good tales: Gregory Nicoll’s “The Ripper’s Tune,” T.E.D. Klein’s “One Size Eats All” (can I say “cute”?) and Adam Meyer’s “Resurrection.” Also in the favorable column are Ramsey Campbell’s “See How They Run,” Sean Doolittle’s “David” (although I experienced my frequent uncertainty over the ending), and Kim Antieau’s “Bloodletting.” The super-weird and funny “Ridi Bobo” by Robert Devereaux occupies its own dimension; it’s an otherwise typical adultery/murder scenario presented in an alternate world where all the characters are clowns, and all of their behavior/activities transpire in a circus-like reality. There was quite a drought between that one and Antieau’s, with a total of 16 stories separating them that were decidedly not favorable to me.
The series waited until the omega volume to offer its most disturbing tale, Chet Williamson’s “Perfect Days.” Written in a gleefully sadistic manner (imagine Richard Layman, but with panache), it’s a vicious piece about a very thorough elderly serial killer who won’t go to his grave until he has eliminated the one victim that got away. This one stayed with me for a long time. I admired it and hated it at the same time.
The volume contained other stories I hated, albeit sans the admiration (from the usual sources, of course, like Sallee, etc.). However, D.F. Lewis’s “Salustrade” can be put right up there with the worst ones from previous editions, like Steve Sneyd’s "Too Far Behind Gradina," t. Winter-Damon’s "Martyr without Canon," and a couple from M. John Harrison. Lewis seemed stoned while writing it, or he was intentionally daring readers to profess a positive reaction, just so he he could ridicule their poor souls. “Salustrade sat in the sewer, his hands locked in prayer like two fleshy moth-wings having sex.” Indeed. And just to demonstrate that my perspective on these things can be skewed by my own shortcomings, that one was followed by a pair of tales I didn’t care for simply because they featured lots of math and physics. My lack of enthusiasm for them could be due to too few brain cells necessary to “get” them.
I’ll do another entry summing up my observations about this series, probably later this week or next. And please, don’t hold your breath this time, as that can be very hazardous to your health...VHS will never die!
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