Turn Down the Lights: Celebrating Old-Style Horror with New Stories

Once, a long time ago, the budding horror writer had a special place. A place that nutured his need to be published and to learn his or her craft at the same time... a place that was a fun, literary community, made up of like-minded folks who genuinely loved the genre and did their level best to pen the types of stories that made horror an exciting place to be and an enjoyable thing to read in the 1980s and 90s. It was a place that possessed more positive than negative, more acceptance and mutual admiration among its peers than today's drama and uncertainty.




That place was the magical (albeit dark and seductive) land of the small press horror magazine. From the mid-80s through the 90s, self-published horror digests and full-sized magazines held a distinctive respect and appeal among genre fans, even in the shadows of horror fiction giants like Night Cry, Midnight Graffiti, and Twilight Zone Magazine. Horror magazines like The Horror Show, Grue, Noctulpa, Deathrealm, After Hours, 2AM, and New Blood, among dozens of others, had a solid readership, offering a multitude of new stories monthly by both big-name horror authors and those who were slowly making a name for themselves. Along with young writers of the macabre like Elizabeth Massie, Bentley Little, Norman Partridge, Wayne Allen Sallee, and others, I, too found myself among the ranks of wet-behind-the-ears storytellers who hungered to open the drafty tombs of their imagination and both raise goosebumps and turn stomachs. Those days were chocked full of fresh ideas and endless adrenalin... long, sleepless nights of typing away until a story was just right and the thrill of seeing your story and your byline on the printed page.




It was around that time that a new magazine came into being. It would be called Cemetery Dance and was the brainchild of a young college student named Richard Chizmar. I'd been a part of the small press scene for a while then and had seen several good magazines come and go... but there was something about this amiable guy and his dream that was different. Rich had a true love for the genre, not only for the traditional scares-and-screams type of fiction, but for the new and innovative brand of horror that was being generated in the minds of splatterpunks such as Skipp & Spector, David Schow, and Clive Barker. I instantly gravitated to Rich's desire to publish solid, enjoyable horror fiction and we became pals. When the premiere issue of Cemetery Dance was released, one of my most disturbing stories, "Forever Angels" was present. After that, my fiction appeared many times within the pages of CD.


Twenty-five years have passed and alot has happened since then. I've had a number of novels and short story collections published, both in traditional and digital formats, and even had an audio collection nominated for a Grammy Award back in the 90s. And Richard Chizmar has become one of the most respected magazine editors and book publishers in the horror business. So good things come to folks who stick to their guns and remain true to the things they love and cherish.




A few weeks ago, the folks at Cemetery Dance Publications performed an almost impossible task; they decided to put together an anthology of new short stories in time to celebrate Cemetery Dance's 25th Anniversary. It would be a collection of the type of stories that made -- and still does make -- the magazine one of the best venues of horror fiction being published today. The roster includes some heavy-hitters -- Stephen King, Peter Straub, Jack Ketchum, and Clive Barker -- as well as writers who have proven themselves time and time again in the pages of CD;  Norman Partridge, Brian James Freeman, Bentley Little, Ed Gorman, Steve Rasnic Tem, and yours truly, Ol' Ron.




The anthology is titled Turn Down the Lights and will be offered in several different editions; a trade hardcover, an Artist's edition, and a Special Lettered edition. The Artist edition features artwork by Mark Edward Geyer, Steven C. Gilberts, Will Renfro, GAK, Erin S. Wells, Keith Minnion, Jill Bauman, Glenn Chadbourne, Chad Savage, and Alan M. Clark.




You can order your copy of Turn Down the Lights now directly from Cemetery Dance Publications. If you enjoy the sort of fiction that the horror genre and Cemetery Dance Magazine was founded on, head on over and order yourself a copy now! You won't be disappointed!  

Long Chills: Journeying the Middle Ground of Horror

 

 



When you're a writer, you have choices... many choices. First or third person narrative? What plot to explore? What place in time will the particular piece of fiction take place, the cast of characters, etc., etc.  Then there is the selection of fiction length to consider. Does this particular idea merit the bumper-car or Scrambler version of a short story? Or does the mother of all roller coasters -- the full-length novel -- suit your needs? Sometimes the choice comes easy... sometimes it takes a little soul-searching and consideration to make up your mind.


And sometimes you have no choice but to travel the middle ground.  That means penning a long fiction piece or a novella. Unlike short stories, which normally run between 1,500 and 4,000 words, or novels, which stretch between 90,000 and 120,000 words (or even more), the long fiction story runs the gamut between 5,000 and 9,000 words and the novella between 9,000 and 20,000 words. Sometimes an idea warrents a longer treatment than a short story and a shorter one than a novel. Thus, rather than a vignette or an epic journey, you set out to write a substantial adventure through the particular genre you happen to specialize in. I, of course, prefer the kind with with spooks and spiders and things that go bump (and bite) in the night.


My newest e-book release, Long Chills, presents 13 of my most popular novellas and long fiction stories in one beefy collection. Everything from the RK classics "Flesh Welder", "The Winds Within", and "Midnight Grinding", to "A Shiny Can of Whup Ass" and "Evolution Ridge" from After the Burn.  It also contains four freshly-penned novellas from the first four volumes of the Essential Ronald Kelly Collection, plus many more from various horror magazines and anthologies over the past 27 years.


Long Chills, which was published by Crossroad Press, is now available at Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, and Smashwords. If you like your scares intense and your shadows long and deep, head on over and check out Long Chills!

Hindsight: My Mother and her "Shining"

"People who shine can sometimes see things that are gonna happen, and I think sometimes they can see things that did happen. But they're just like pictures in a book. Did you ever see a picture in a book that scared you, Danny?"
-- Dick Hallorann to Danny Torrence in The Shining.


My mama could shine. Lord have mercy, could she shine.


I know alot of people don't believe in such things. Some of you might be saying right now "That isn't true, Ron. You're just pulling our legs." Well, writing fiction -- especially horror fiction -- does consist of alot of leg-pulling. But I'm not writing horror stories at the moment. I'm expressing truth through memory. And I have plenty of memories of Mama and her shining... or her "gift" as she called it.


More country folks than city folks seem to believe in the gift of precognition. It mostly has to do with believing in things that you can't touch or see... like God or the Devil, like heaven or hell. Rural life is built on equal portions of faith and superstition, and every now and then you come across someone who shines. Sometimes it's even someone in your family... like your own mother. And that makes for a strange and sometimes frightening upbringing.


Mama mostly shined in the forward sense of the term. She could predict disasters that would befall particular people and even their deaths... sometimes day ahead of its happening, sometimes several weeks. I saw this firsthand several times, starting with the age of five. I recall sitting at the kitchen table in our rental house in Nashville one morning, while Mama stood at the stove, cooking breakfast. She had a can of biscuits in her hand and our dog, Chipper, was, as always, precariously underfoot. She dropped the biscuits and it struck Chipper on top of the hand... and at that instant she had a vision of my Uncle John A. being crushed beneath the rolling body of a truck. Of course, I didn't know that she was seeing that at the time... I was only a little boy and she didn't want to burden me with such things that were incomprehensible to my innocent way of thinking. But I remember that startled look on her face and the tears that welled in her eyes. And two weeks later, we were standing in front of my uncle's casket. He had died a couple of days earlier, in a car wreck in which he had been thrown clear of a car and had been crushed beneath the truck that had hit him head-on.


After that, when I was older, Mama confided with me about her ability to "sense" forthcoming incidents. When she was eighteen, she had gotten such a devestating sense of mounting disaster, that she insisted on taking my grandmother to Nashville for the day. When they returned to their hometown of White Bluff, they discovered that one of my uncles had fatally shot another uncle, after a drunken brawl. But her precognitions didn't always foretell death. Sometimes she was actually instrumental in saving lives. One Sunday morning, she frantically urged my father to pick up a lady they usually gave a ride to church... even though it would be going out of the way to pick her up before picking up my grandmother. He complied and the elderly woman was picked up fifteen minutes before usual. They back-tracked to get my grandmother and, upon passing the first woman's house, found it totally engulfed in flames. If my mother had waited to pick her up in the normal manner, she would have undoubtively perished.


When I was thirteen years old, I remember Mama standing at our backyard fence as our neighbor, Mr. Green, handed her a watermelon from his garden.  When she entered the house, I knew something was wrong. She set the melon in the sink and then, ashen-faced, sat down heavily in a kitchen chair. "What's wrong?" I asked. I knew that look and it frightened me. "Mr. Green is going to die," she said. "The minute he handed me that watermelon, I saw him in his Sunday suit, lying in a casket." And a week later, it came to be. He fell dead of a heart attack, in his own garden, between the tomatoes and the okra.


When I read Stephen King's The Shining in 1977 at the age of seventeen, that one revelation about the shining, between Halloran and Danny -- the one at the very beginning of this post -- struck me so strongly that I took the book to my mother and showed her that single passage. She read it, then looked up at me and said "Yes... yes, I know." Since the late 60s, my mother and I had a long-standing tradition of seeing horror movies together when they were first released. The Shining was one of the few movies that she refused to watch with me. I reckon, in alot of ways, it was just too close to home for her.


When I was ready to start working on my first horror novel, I remembered something my mother told me about long ago; something that had happened in our family history during the time of the Great Depression. My mother had been nine-years-old then; only a year earlier she had survived a nearly-fatal bout with Typhoid fever. Her teenage cousin was preparing to leave to work in one of the CCC camps in Eastern Tennessee, when she got an overwhelming premonition of doom and disaster. She ran to her cousin and hugged him tightly. "Don't worry, Earline," he told her. "I'll see you in a year and a day." But that was never to be. Later that night, he and two others were brutally murdered in an old barn no more than three miles away.

That experience, as well as the deadly tragedy behind it, prompted me to write my novel Hindsight in 1987. It was published in January of 1990, two months after Mama died of cancer at the age of 59. She never got to read it; she had insisted on reading it in book-form after it was released, which never came to be. So the publication of Hindsight has always been a bittersweet part of my professional and personal life. On one hand, I was excited about the publication of my first mass market novel, while on the other, the one person who inspired it and it was written for, never had the opportunity to read it. To this day, Hindsight has a special place in my heart for those very reasons.


Lately, a couple of things made me think about Mama and her "gift"; finishing Restless Shadows, the long-awaited sequel to Hindsight, for Thunderstorm Books, and re-reading The Shining, in anticipation of King's sequel, Doctor Sleep. When I read Hallorann's explanation of why the Overlook held such horrible after-images of the terrible things that happened within its rooms over the decades, I couldn't help think about Mama and the things she that "glimpsed", from time to time. Mama will be gone 24 years this November. But, every now and then, I get the strongest sensation of her being nearby. Sometimes behind me, watching, sometimes in the books I read or movies I watch, sometimes in the eyes of my nine-year-old daughter, who is the physical and emotional image of my mother... but thankfully without the psychic baggage that her grandmother carried following that long and feverish sickness she suffered at the exact same age.


So, think what you will when it comes to the reality or fallacy of second sight. I know what I know from experience, so I have nothing to prove, to myself or anyone else. Just remember... when you read Hindsight or Restless Shadows and regard it only as fiction... you are gravely mistaken. Both are based not only on the dark and twisted imaginings of your neighborly Southern-fried horror writer... but the true experiences of a pre-teen girl during one of the hardest and most tragic times in American history, and the strange and disturbing things that she saw.

Where are the Children?: The Decline of the Coming-of-Age Novel

When my novel Hell Hollow was published in 2009, more than one reviewer (several in fact) said something to this effect: “Kelly’s newest novel, which has a group of four children as the story’s protagonists, is clearly heavily influenced by Stephen King’s It.”
 

  

Sorry, but I couldn’t help but laugh when I read that. Sure, King has always been an influential author in my eyes, along with Poe, Bradbury, McCammon, and Lansdale. But, despite their assumptions, Hell Hollow was not influenced by It. In fact, quite honestly, It has never been in my top ten list of favorite King books (I found the whole “cosmic turtle” sub-plot to be confusing and the sex-sharing scene between Beverly and the boys in Pennywise’s catacombs to be unnecessary and a bit embarrassing).  It was probably the furthest book from my mind when I was writing about the children of Harmony’s encounter – and subsequent battle – with the reincarnated evil of Doctor Augustus Leech, a magic-wielding bounty hunter of souls for Satan and his otherworldly kingdom.

  

 

This comparison would have never been made back in 1996, when the book was originally scheduled to see publication. That’s because the classic “coming-of-age” novel was alive and well back then. Almost every author in the genre in the horror hey-day of the 80s and 90s had done at least one. My favorites during that period were King’s “The Body” (brought to film as “Stand By Me), Robert R. McCammon’s Boy’s Life, Dan Simmon’s Summer of Night, and Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this Way Comes. Even before then, I had my mainstream favorites; To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, and The Lord of the Flies.
 

  

 For those of you out there who are a little hazy about exactly what a "coming-of-age" story is, it is a tale of one (or several) youths taking a bold step toward adulthood due to adventurous or devestating circumstances, as well as a loss of innocence or naivity in the face of conflict or seemingly unsurmountable odds of survival. Once, a horror author naturally gravitated toward the writing of such a novel, simply to explore their own childhood trials and tribulations and, in some cases, to exorcise demons from years past. I, myself, had written two other coming-of-age novels before Hell Hollow. One had been my first novel, Hindsight, in which Cindy Ann Biggs, a nine-year-old girl during the Great Depression uses her gift of second sight (gained after a long bout of Typhoid Fever) to solve a brutal triple-murder that had taken place in an abandoned tobacco barn and, in turn, protect herself and her family from the wrath of the perpetrators. The second one was Fear, which most fans believe my best work to date. In Fear, a young farm boy named Jeb Sweeny discovers that a ravenous snake-critter is on the rampage in his community, slaughtering livestock and abducting small children. His only chance in conquering it is to journey to the neighboring providence of Fear County, a place full of evil and deadly dangers... a place where every childhood nightmare exists as dark reality.


As a reader, I love a good coming-of-age novel. I enjoy reading about children facing a greater, adult evil and eventually conquering it. It wasn't until I returned to the horror genre in 2006, that I discovered that coming-of-age novels weren't as popular as they had been during the first leg of my writing career in the late 80s to mid-90s. In fact, it seemed that my peers had stopped writing them completely. Oh, I was fortunate enough to find a few gems here and there; Joe Lansdale's The Bottoms, James Newman's Midnight Rain, and much of John R. Little's excellent altered-time fiction, including The Memory Tree, Miranda, and his upcoming offering, Secrets. But for the most part, today's horror writer seems to prefer to deal solely with adult situations and characters. Many believe the use of children as protagonists is passe'. I don't happen to be one of those who hold that opinion, which puts me in the minority these days. More than anything else, that was why Hell Hollow was so unfairly compared to It; today's new breed of horror reader/critic/reviewer didn't grow up in the Golden Age of horror fiction and, so, does not hold the same appreciation for the coming-of-age story as some of my past contemporaries and I do. It is probably also the reason why HH was viewed as a "throwback to the days of 90's pulp paperback horror", which essentially it is, since it was written during that time and contains that same flavor of fun, adventure, and fantastical horror.


Will the coming-of-age novel enjoy a resurgence... or will its popularity wane to the point of no return and readers will have nothing but adult-based fiction to enjoy? I very much doubt that the latter will occur. The coming-of-age story has been popular for centuries, from the Bible (the tales of Joseph and his coat of many colors and David and Goliath) to young adult classics like Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, The Yearling, and Treasure Island. Childhood and its joys and triumphs, as well as its trials and tragedies, should be a part of one's intellectual and emotional make-up; a part to be cherished and revisited from time to time. It shouldn't be set on a shelf to gather dust, buried in the back yard, or traded in for the no-nonsense life of an adult, never to be enjoyed or remembered again.  That is the great thing about the coming-of-age novel; it returns you to a time when you didn't have to worry about bills, failing health, war, or income taxes. It was a time when a 64-count box of Crayolas opened a world of creativity, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were as flesh-and-blood real as your mother and father, and playing cowboys and Indians, or cops and robbers transported you to a realm of the imagination that was a child's equivalent of living those lives through novels and motion pictures.


 If we are lucky, it won't be long until a new generation of writers look past the hard-core aspects of horror fiction and decide that the coming-of-age novel is, indeed, a viable and worthwhile addition to their collective body of literary works. As for me, I'll certainly do my part to keep that particular sub-genre of child-versus-evil fiction alive and kicking.

FLESH WELDER... Now Only 99 cents!

Got a real bargain for you! The Kindle e-book edition of FLESH WELDER is now only 99 cents! That's right, for less than a buck you get my unabridged novella of post-apocalyptic horror and the best interview I ever did, conducted by Mark Hickerson.

Also, you can buy the Audible audio book of FW, read by voice talent Wayne June, for only $3.95. This one doesn't include the interview, but Wayne's excellent narration is well worth the price. Head on over and check 'em out!

After the Burn: Having a Blast with Nuclear Armageddon

When it comes to apocalyptic fiction these days, it's all about zombies. The Walking Dead, World War Z, zombie novels, zombie comics, zombie video games... zombies, zombies, zombies. Not that I have anything against the flesh-eating undead. I'm an equal-opportunity monster lover. Plus, zombie apocalypse fiction is  a very popular and lucrative sub-genre now. It's just not my idea of how the earth is going to kick the bucket, with the dead -- reanimated by a virus or demonic possession -- chasing the survivors around, wanting to turn them into a hot lunch.


I reckon I'm just old-school. When I think of the end of the world, it's nuclear armageddon that comes immediately to mind. I grew up during the Cold War era, when the major super-powers -- the United States and the Soviet Union -- were not the best of friends and had nuclear warheads aimed at one another, and itchy fingers poised above the big red button a time or two. I was a child around the time of the Bay of Pigs and "Duck-and-Cover!" and lived with the fear of the Bomb throughout my grade school and high school years. I was twenty-two when the Berlin Wall came tumbling down and the Cold War pretty much fizzled and went away. But they are still out there... the missiles. They're not as plentiful  as they were back in the 50s, 60s, and 70s,  but they're still nestled in their cozy little silos, slumbering inactively until someone decides to activate them with the flip of a switch and send them skyward. And we have more folks with nuclear capabilities to worry about; China, North Korea, the Middle East, and a half dozen terrorist groups. Not trying to scare anyone... just reminding you that the threat is still there.

                                                                     

 FLESH WELDER (Kindle Edition)

In 1990, I wrote "Flesh Welder", a cautionary tale about life following a nuclear holocaust and how one man -- Doctor Rourke, a hybrid of surgeon and arc welder -- does his best to repair and sustain life in a hellhole that was once Houston, Texas, while his nemesis, the infamous General, does his best to tear it down. After FW's publication, my interest in apocalyptic fiction remained, but was put on the back-burner in favor of vampires, werewolves, and nasty little critters that go bump (and bite) in the South. When the now-defunct Croatoan Press did a chapbook of the reprint of Flesh Welder in 2007, I began to think about skinny-dipping in the radio-active pool again and exploring how a nuclear holocaust might effect our world and, in particular, my native Southland.

                 

                                                                                                                                                               

AFTER THE BURN (Thunderstorm Books Edition)

It took a few years of turning the germs of a few ideas into full-blown stories, but eventually I ended up with exactly what I was aiming for. In 2011. Thunderstorm Books published AFTER THE BURN, my quirky, ultra-extreme collection of post-apocalyptic horror tales. It contained six short stories and two novellas, all chronicling the aftermath of The Burn, a sudden rash of nuclear detonations around the globe that had no purpose or explanation. As society deteriorates and it becomes every man for himself, the dregs of humanity quickly take over; serial killers, child molesters, the criminally insane, rapists, drug dealers, and cannibals. As radiation alters plant and animal life, horrible mutations begin to take place. Not all of the stories are dark and dismal, however. I took the opportunity to balance drama with black humor through the course of ATB, making it more fun than depressing. Creatively, AFTER THE BURN became my version of good folks versus very bad folks in a post-apocalyptic South.

 AFTER THE BURN (Bad Moon Books Edition)

                                                                       


Luckily, readers took to the collection and it became a fan favorite among my catalog of books. My peers enjoyed it, too. As horror author Brian Keene said "AFTER THE BURN is one of my all-time favorites. A classic, seminal masterpiece of post-apocalyptic survival horror!" The Thunderstorm hardcover of ATB sold out within a matter of days and became one of the most successful of the publisher's Black Voltage line. The book fell "out of print" for a year or so, then was published in an affordable trade paperback by Bad Moon Books. ATB is also available as a digital e-book from Crossroad Press and is available in Kindle and Nook versions.

                                                  

AFTER THE BURN (Kindle E-Book)

Of all my projects, since returning to writing in 2006, AFTER THE BURN has been one of the most satisfying and most fun to bring to fruition. It will soon become an unabridged audio book and there has been some interest in turning it into a graphic novel. Also, I'm currently brain-storming on the possibility of doing a second ATB, this time as a full-length novel. Some of your favorite ATB characters would be back -- Waco, Zulu Woman, Dr. Rourke, and Popsicle Man, to name a few -- joining forces against an evil band of mauraders led by the notorious General and his army of Clownies, cannibals, and mutants, as they make a cross-country trek for the mythical, non-radio-active Promised Land.


If you're looking for something different as far as apocalyptic horror is concerned, you might want to check out AFTER THE BURN. This is Ol' Ron's most extreme work to date and I guarantee that you'll get your fair share of goosebumps and belly laughs. Just sit back in your favorite armchair, turn the page, and wait for the flash and Burn!

 

 

Spinning Tales: Upcoming Writing Projects

Last year had its ups and downs, but 2013 seems to be progressing smoothly, particularly from a creative aspect. Here are some upcoming writing projects that I hope to complete by the time the Christmas tree comes down and the party hats and hooters (those little noise-makers you blow, not the other ones!) herald the beginning of 2014.


RESTLESS SHADOWS: I just finished the final edit of RESTLESS SHADOWS, the long-awaited sequel to my first novel, HINDSIGHT. RS was one of two novels that Zebra Books had scheduled for publication before they decided to pull the plug on their horror line in 1996 (the other one being HELL HOLLOW). This previously unpublished novel will soon be released as an economically-priced hardcover edition from Thunderstorm Books, hopefully sometime this autumn. RESTLESS SHADOWS continues the story of HINDSIGHT seventy-seven years after the Great Depression. Cindy Ann is an elderly woman now and comes out of retirement every now and then to lend her psychic abilities to the local police, solving murder cases. When a triple murder almost identical to the one she revealed back in 1936 takes place in her hometown of Coleman, Cindy must return to the old tobacco barn with her granddaughter, Beth, who also possesses the gift of second sight. Together, they attempt to determine exactly who committed the murders. Is it a copy cat reliving history... or is it the evil spirit of Bully Hanson in action once again?


CEMETERY DANCE PROJECTS: During the next few weeks, I'll be finishing up some projects for Cemetery Dance Publications. One will be a short story for an upcoming Halloween anthology. The other will be a Signature Series book with the tentative title of WHITE LIGHTNING, BLACK MASS! It will be a rip-roaring tale of moonshiners and devil worshippers with the feel of an old grindhouse movie. Some of you have asked about the status of A DARK & BLOODY GROUND, an upcoming novel from CD. Alas, the manuscript -- nearly three-quarters done -- is still floating around in crashed hard-drive limbo. As soon as I find someone with the expertise to liberate AD&BG from its imprisonment, I'll finish that sucker up and send it out to Rich, Brian, and the rest of the folks at CD.


ESSENTIAL RONALD KELLY COLLECTION, VOLUMES #5 & 6: In September and October, I'll be doing final revisions and edits on the next two Essentials: PITFALL and TWELVE GAUGE (formerly FATHER'S LITTLE HELPER). I'll also be writing the two companion novellas for the books. PITFALL's will be titled "The Last of the Chupacabra", while the one in TWELVE GAUGE will be titled "Killing Time". I hope to have the finished manuscripts to Thunderstorm Books in time for a late December or early 2014 release.


UNDERTAKER'S MOON & FEAR: I've turned in the manuscripts to Roy Robbins at Bad Moon Books for the softcover trade editions of UNDERTAKER'S MOON & FEAR. These books, with new covers by Keith Minnion, will be similar to what the Essentials have to offer, except without the "Writing of" feature. We're hoping to have both of these out before the end of 2013.


As I gain momentum with the completion of these projects, I'm hoping for a productive 2014. Among other things, I'll be working on sequels to FEAR and AFTER THE BURN (this time a full-length novel!), short stories for upcoming anthologies, and I'll be finishing  up the Essential collection with Volumes #7 & 8: BLOOD KIN and BURNT MAGNOLIA. On the heels of those projects, I'll be writing a five-volume horror-western serial titled DEAD-EYE, followed by DEAD OLD MEN, the first book of the Grandpa Kelly mystery series that I have in the work.


Be sure to check in regularly here at Southern-Fried & Horrified and RonaldKelly.com for updates and news on these and other forthcoming projects!

Zombie Bites! Talking Appalachian Undead, Zombie Apocalypse, and More at Apex Books

Head on over to Apex Books for Zombie Bites : a feature showcasing the contributors of Appalachian Undead, an anthology of horror tales that take place in the rugged hills and hollows of the Appalachian Mountains. Today it's Ol' Ron's turn.

I'll be discussing my story "Company's Coming", my personal zombie apocalypse survival plan (every respectable redneck family should have one!), the proper use of steel-toed boots, and more. While you're there, you might as well pick yourself up a copy of Appalachian Undead ... the best collection of zombie stories to come down the pike in a month of Sundays. (Cortney Skinner's down-home zombie cover is worth the price of the book alone, if you ask me!)


And if you're still hankering for zombie fiction, check out my story "The Day UPS Brought Zombies" at Ronald Kelly.com. It's chocked full of dark humor and re-animated flesh: zombies, demonic books, chainsaw-slinging grannies, evil dolls, a Zuni warrior straight out of Trilogy of Terror, and a special cameo appearance by Brian Keene!


So slip on your steel-toed clod-hoppers and get to kicking those brains... in a literary sense, that is. And, as always... enjoy!

Walking the Fence Rail: Balancing Faith and Horror Writing

When I was a young boy, I would walk the fence on Grandpa Kelly's farm. On one side there would be green grass and soft clover; on the other, thistle and blackberry bramble, with plenty of sharp rocks hidden underneath. It wouldn't have taken much at all to have lost my balance and fallen one way or the other, but I never did. Mostly it was due to my own youthful balancing act, but sometimes it was because Grandpa held my hand while I walked the rail.


Sometimes that's how it feels when it comes to my faith and my horror writing career. On one side there is all goodness and light, while on the other there are sharp thorns, dangerous shadows, and the potential for a disastrous fall. You may think it is an unlikely and incompatible combination that was doomed to failure from the beginning. But you would be wrong. There are more Christian horror writers out there than you would think. I've talked to quite a few and, amid our discussions, found that we all hold the same doubts and fears. We definitely have questions about what we're doing from time to time. Some of them are of our own making, while others come from fans or members of our spiritual niche. The following are some issues that we are forced to address -- for ourselves as well as for others -- every now and then.


Am I compromising my faith by choosing to write this particular genre of fiction?  No, I don't think so. As a Christian, I believe that God has a hand in all aspects of my life, both personal and professional, and that includes my talent and desire to write. I developed a strong interest in monsters and the macabre at an early age (one that my mother shared and reinforced) so you might say that I was "predestined" to write and create this sort of stuff later in life. Believe me, I've tried my best to specialize in other genres over the years; science fiction, mystery, western, children's literature, even inpirational. But horror was the only one I was actually successful (or happy) with. I'm relatively good at it, seem to know how to press readers' emotional buttons, and I have something of a warped and dark sense of humor. I see this as more of a blessing than a fluke or coincidence. People are always referring to someone's "God-given talent" in an off-hand way, but I believe there is more truth to that than folks realize.


Is it sinful to write horror fiction?  Whenever someone asks me this question, I can't help but think of a hundred cartoons I've seen in my lifetime: the well-meaning guy with an angel perched on one shoulder and a devil on the other, persuading him to do either right or wrong. I don't know about other horror authors, but that isn't how it is with me. For the most part, I don't feel conflicted while writing horror fiction; it seems to flow naturally, with no mental shifting between "good and bad" taking place. Sure, there are some instances when I feel like I've stepped past my comfort zone, but that's what gives horror its edge... the author's willingness to go a step further and take the reader into realms they would, in life, hesitate to tread. As for the horror genre being evil? Only those who don't read it or aren't familiar with it seem to hold that opinion. I've actually had several people -- some of them family members -- call me a "devil worshiper" because I write this stuff. There's a misconception among a small minority of people (mostly radical religious groups) that writers and film directors of horror-related material are actually in league with the Devil. Of course, thinking in such a way is both ignorant and preposterous. I've  met hundreds of horror authors since I began writing in the genre in 1986 and 99% of them were some of the nicest and most wholesome people I've ever met. Some have been fellow Christians, some atheists and agnostics, some straight, some gay... which proves what a diverse body of wordsmiths the horror genre boasts compared to, say, the romance and western genres.


Do you inject your religious beliefs into your stories and novels?   No, not consciously. I consider my faith a personal matter and prefer not to inject it into my fiction, lest it be considered as "preachy". Besides, trying to fuse religion with horror (as in "Christian horror", a strange and seemingly contrary sub-genre to be sure) very rarely works. It's like mixing oil with water. Sometimes religious themes, characters, or settings surface in my books, but I'm not sure if I've done it with the intention of actually sharing my faith. After the Burn had a definite undercurrent of religion throughout and, I suppose, the last story in the collection, "The Paradise Pill", even gave the reader a glimpse of a heaven which may or may not be. The mass murder from my novel Father's Little Helper (soon to be re-released as Twelve Gauge in the Essential Collection) took place in a country church at Christmas time, and of course Grandpappy Craven from Blood Kin had been a mountain preacherman before vampirism caused him to trade his Bible and cross for a hankering for blood. So, perhaps, subconsciously, I do let my faith show through a little in plots and characters.


Am I expressing a hidden side of myself when I write about evil or ungodly characters?   This is where a lot of writers of horror fiction experience the most friction. When family, co-workers, or even members of one's church, discover that they write "those awful horror stories", then perceptions begin to alter and the author is suddenly regarded in a different, less favorable light. Most "regular" folks (and by that I mean those who don't possess a love for the macabre) believe that surely something must be mentally or morally wrong with someone who would write about monsters or serial killers and, in turn, derive pleasure from doing it. Writing horror doesn't make you an unstable person, a devil worshipper (there's that enigma again), a weirdo, or a child molester. As I said before, most of the time it's the normal folks who specialize in the horror, suspense, and mystery fields... and I could add science-fiction and fantasy to that grouping as well. To tell the truth, it would be the full-blown romance writer, especially the ones who fill their books with ultra-explicit sex and wanton debauchery who I would be wondering about. Actually, there are some Christians (and I've been told this myself by fellow believers) who think that is morally wrong to write about vampires, werewolves, demons, zombies, and ghosts because they are of "Satan's dominion" and it is sinful to "glorify" such creatures. I, myself, don't believe that such monsters exist, maybe with the exception of demons, whose presence is apparent every day in countless news stories about terrorists, child murderers, and those who commit crimes too horrible to even comprehend. Writing about evil characters (the antagonist) or terrible, unthinkable situations or plot twists, doesn't mean that your Dr. Jekyll is unleashing its Mr. Hyde. A person can write about both good and evil without actually being one or the other; that's the gift of a good writer... they can wear many hats convincingly. Being a horror writer no more makes you a carbon copy of your most fiendish character than wearing mouse ears makes you Mickey Mouse or sporting a dab of a mustache on your upper lip makes you Adolf Hitler. Prose is a creative action, like painting or playing music. If a writer's story is about an axe murderer, that doesn't mean he or she is going to take up a hatchet and chase you gleefully around your front lawn. It is simply an exercise in imagination that takes a darker path than other genres take.


Why would God approve of or even want you to write horror fiction?   This is the number one question that horror writers of the Christian faith ask themselves from time to time. The very nature of being a person of faith is to question things that do not involve goodness and benevolence. Philippians 4:8 says "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there by any praise, think on these things." Basically, that means almost everything that horror is not. Truthfully, I believe in everything in the Bible, from Genesis to Revelations. But I've always had an aversion to Philippians 4:8, simply because it condemns a person's interest in things dark and mysterious, which is not only a major pastime of mine, but, frankly, my bread and butter. I've actually had fellow Christians throw this scripture in my face when I suggested that they read one of my novels or stories.


I had a huge problem with this question following the implosion of the Zebra horror line back in 1996 and the sudden loss of my first career as a novelist. Having recently "found religion", as the old-timers call it, I became convinced that God had taken away my writing career because He didn't want me to write horror. That might sound silly to you, but to a believer, whose faith dictates that God is instrumental in all things, it is practically logical. So I gave it up... for ten years. It was a long journey of self-doubt and denial, and it took a long time for me to realize that I was downright miserable because of my self-imposed hiatus. It was only when I returned to the genre in 2006, that I was truly happy creatively again. I originally intended to tone my tales down considerably, but discovered that you simply couldn't do that with horror fiction. True, I'm not as "in-your-face" as other horror authors, but I do use a little profanity (never the F-bomb or the Lord's name in vain) and include occasional sexual situations; I just don't go overboard for the sake of offending or grossing my readership out.


If the Lord has a purpose for my writing this stuff, I'd have to say it would be the perpetuation of "good versus evil" storytelling. There was a time in horror literature (any literature, to tell the truth) when the good guys always won and the bad guys got their just dues. These days, fiction isn't as black and white as it once was. More often than not, it is a battle between evil and a lesser or greater evil. I reckon I'm just old-school, because this approach irks me alot. In my way of thinking, if you don't have a clearcut protagonist and antagonist, then it is simply not horror fiction... or at least not the kind that I enjoy and write.


In the horror genre, there are all kinds. I just happen to be one of the choir boys of the bunch. If you don't agree with what I've said, remember, this is simply my opinion and how I feel concerning these particular questions. You may believe or disbelieve; that's your God-given right. As for me, I definitely believe that there is something more than talent and luck involved in the success of my writing career and I know precisely who to give all the glory to for that. And if I need a Fatherly hand to keep me balanced on the literary fence rail, then I'll gladly hold onto it.


 

Two New Audio Books: The Dark'Un & Unhinged!

 

 

The folks at Crossroads Press have been hard at work bringing my work to audio. Some of the best voice talents in the business have been gathered, each with their own unique performance and genuine Southern twang. As a result, we now have seven full-length, unabridged audio books available for your IPod or MP3 player. They include Dark Dixie: Tales of Southern Horror, Flesh Welder, Cumberland Furnace, Timber Gray, Twilight Hankerings, The Dark’Un, and Unhinged: Tales of Darkness & Depravity.

 

The two newest offerings are now available directly from Audible.com. Unhinged: Tales of Darkness & Depravity is a collection of my serial killer and mass murderer stories gathered from various horror publications and anthologies over the years. It also includes several previously unpublished stories. The Dark'Un is my full-length novel (eleven hours worth of audio in all!) dealing with a Tennessee mountain under seige by a ruthless corporation and the shadowy changling, the Dark'Un, who takes on hired guns and mercanaries, in every shape and form imaginable... and with absolutely no mercy whatsoever.


Stick a little Southern-fried horror in your ears... at Audible!

A Word from the Shlocky, Pulp-Writing, Zebra-Striped, Retro-90s Horror Hack

Recently, I've been reading some fan reviews of my novels on Goodreads and other online websites, and I've come to a sobering realization. For the most part, folks enjoy my work... but they don't take it very seriously.


Does this bother me? Maybe a little. I suppose every writer starts out a new novel or short story putting everything they have into it and hoping that their work will gain respect and touch someone in a creative and emotional way. But I reckon when it come down to pleasing horror fans and critics, you can either go in one of two directions. Do you want to be a serious, high-browed author of the macabre or an old-fashioned writer of pulp horror and spooky tall-tales? Do you want to impress readers with your English degree and wow them with your intellectual prose... or do you simply want to have some fun and tell a good story?


According to the majority of those who've read my brand of Southern-fried horror, I fit into the latter catagory.


From a review of my novel, Fear, J.B. says: Every so often, I crave something dumb in my entertainment diet. Not dumb like a Michael Bay movie or "Twilight" or network TV. I said dumb, not worthless. I mean something creatively dumb. Something that lets me give my mind a rest but that doesn't insult my intelligence. I mean dumb as in an all-nite flying saucer movie marathon, an old-school Mack Bolan, or meathead metal. I mean dumb as in early '90s cheap horror paperbacks.


Dumb? This worried me a bit. Is this fella saying that my books are dumb? Worse, is he saying that I'm dumb? That old Irish temper of mine wasn't quite at a boil, but it was starting a slow simmer. Then I continued reading...


About 15-20 years ago, publishing outfits such as Zebra, Leisure, and Pinnacle were the kings of supermarket book racks, carpet-bombing their aisles with goofy vampires, werewolves, demon children, etc. who glared with glowing eyes off foil, cut-out covers that tore nanoseconds after purchase. I bought armloads of the things, along with a big bag of picante Cornquistos (greatest snack food EVAH!) to go along with the junkfood prose. Among the better purveyors of this kind of pulp was Ronald Kelly, the Zebra poor man's version of Joe Lansdale.


Okay, I'll agree with that. The guy knows of what he speaks. Mass market paperback houses such as Pinnacle and Zebra (of which I was sort of an indentured servant of the literary type) did over-saturate the book racks with horror novels, both good and bad, and around the mid-90s, caused an implosion that knocked quite a few writers offf their feet and out of a job... me included. That I was considered to be one of the "better purveyors" of paperback horror during that period is a compliment and anytime I'm compared to Joe Lansdale in any manner, positive or negative, it is a good thing in my book.


Most Zebra writers didn't require a repeat visit. A lot of the books that publisher put out were just plain garbage and contributed to the sinking of the horror market a few years later. Turns out that saturating the shelves with crap was not a good long-term business strategy. But I liked Kelly's books. They were unpretentious, solidly constructed, meat 'n' taters, good 'n' evil horror stories. Kelly isn't likely to win any prizes for his glittering sentences  or his eye-opening insight into the nature of man, but he knows how to tell a story. Too damn many "serious" authors haven't clue No. 1 about the mechanics of plot. I bought all the Kelly books and stashed em away until I'd get my next craving for good dumb popcorn fun.


Okay, this is where the unshakable stigma of being a "Zebra Hack" comes in. Even before the Big Z accepted my first novel, Hindsight, for publication in 1989, they had a shoddy reputation. For two years my agent submitted the book to almost every paperback house in New York City and, after running the course from A to Z, it was finally accepted at Zebra. The acceptance was bittersweet. I was overjoyed  to finally have a publisher, but not so happy that it was Zebra. During the first leg of my horror writing career (I'm currently on the second one) I always felt like horror aficionados and my horror-writing peers regarded me as second-string (or less) because I wrote for Zebra. At the first World Horror Convention, I even had Charles Grant ask me point-blank "Why the hell are you tied up with Zebra? You could do so much better than them!"


I reckon it just came down to this: everyone has to start out somewhere. You do as well as you can with what you have at that particular point in time... and at that point in my wet-behind-the-ears writing career, my only chance at mass market publication was the dreaded Z. So I stuck with them and tried to buck the traditonal Zebra formula. Instead of writing five or six evil child/doll novels in a row, I wrote something different every time. And I fought to retain my Southern identity, even though the folks at Zebra accused me of being too "rural" more times than I could shake a stick at.  I wrote 8 books under the Zebra imprint before the bottom dropped out and they shut down their horror line. I always did my best to be a cut-above the average Zebra author (the way the late, great Rick Hautala did) and, acccording to this particular review, I managed to accomplish that.


J.B. makes another good point here, too. When it all comes down to it, it's all about "telling the story". You can have the most brilliant plot in the history of literary fiction, but if you don't know how to tell the story -- how to invent characters that you genuinely care about and develop situations that are reasonably credible and fun to read -- then your book will have no soul and it will fall flat on its face. I've read a number of books since coming back to the horror genre in 2006 and, for the most part, they were good, solid stories. But more than a few had all the pizzazz and appeal of a techical manual for a toaster, Whenever someone reviews one of my books and uses the term "throwback to the pulp paperback days of the '80s and '90s horror boom", I take it as a compliment. Because that was when the genre was at its pinnacle, in my opinion. That was when everyone involved had an individual voice and style, from Stephen King himself to the lowliest horror hack. And no one seemed to be particularly concerned about sales or popularity. Most of us were just having to much dadblamed fun to care.


In another review, L.W. says: If Stephen King's fiction, by his own admission, is the equivalent of a Big Mac and fries, then Kelly's is most certainly an RC Cola and a Moon Pie.




This classification of "junk food literature" in comparison to, say, "steak & lobster literature" seems to be a recurring theme here. If King is part of that common-man fraternity, then so am I. If fast-paced, adventurous fiction that leans more toward fun and fright than grim intellectualism and unsettling dread, is your cup of tea (or sweet tea, in my case), then I'm your man. More than likely, I won't ever win any major awards for my down-home horror (as of yet, the Stoker folks have neglected to bless me with one of those spooky, little outhouses), but I really don't care. The reward is writing what I want, how I want, and having readers derive some enjoyment from the end result. And, if I accomplish that by using shivers and smiles, then I can punch the ol' literary time clock and feel good about it at the end of the day.

Sixteen and Counting: The Ronald Kelly E-Book Collection!

Several years ago, I became aware of an exciting new outlet for my books and short story collections: digital publishing. Kindles and Nooks were becoming more and more popular and rightly so. A digital e-book reading device could store hundreds, perhaps even thousands of titles, giving you a library in the palm of your hand. Adjustable fonts could make it easier for those with poor vision (like Ol' Ron) to read without eye strain. And the compact size made it convenient to tote your favorite book in your hip pocket or purse (especially something like a Stephen King 1,000 pager). The problem was, I had no idea how to break into this new frontier of digital publishing and said as much on one of the horror discussion forums.

Then, along came David Niall Wilson and his new endeavor, Macabre Ink Press, and the rest is history. Three years later and Macabre Ink is now Crossroad Press, with hundreds of big-name authors to its credit, offering the best of horror in digital book form. I was fortunate to be one of their flagship authors and currently have sixteen titles available online. So far, we have the following books and short story collections ready for downloading: Undertaker's Moon, Fear, Hindsight, The Dark'Un, Hell Hollow, Dark Dixie I & II, The Sick Stuff, Cumberland Furnace, Unhinged, Twilight Hankerings, Flesh Welder, After the Burn, Timber Gray, and The China Doll. The digital edition of my first published short story collection, Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors is also available through CD Publications.

Soon, Crossroads will be publishing my seventeenth e-book, Long Chills, a collection of 13 of my novellas and long fiction pieces. In the meantime, you can catch up on the rest of the Ronald Kelly E-Book Catalog at Amazon Kindle. Crossroad Press, Barnes & Noble Nook, & Smashwords. Enjoy!

Gloom, Despair, & Agony on Me: Trading the Pathos for Prose

It's been a rough year and a half.

Some of you out there know what has been going on with the Kelly household for a while now, while others may have no idea at all. So it's time to exorcise the demons, so to speak. It's time to reflect upon the past eighteen months and try to make some sort of sense out of this long journey of darkness and despair that I -- and my family -- have recently taken.

The unanswered emails, the missed deadlines, unmailed books and stories, unwritten fiction, the utter lack of communication; all of it comes down to one word. One black and gloomy word that carries the very weight of the world upon its narrow and trembling shoulders.

Grief.

Between February of 2012 and June of 2013, we have seen the deaths of four close family members. It began with the loss of our sister-in-law, Debbie, who succumbed to a long illness, then continued with the death of my father, Robert, who passed away after many debilitating years with Alzhiemer's Disease. Those two deaths alone were enough to drag the spirits of my family to the depths of despair (yes, I know that's an overused and somewhat corny term, but when you're experiencing it, it fits like a well-worn glove). Then in October, my father-in-law, Carroll, suffered a massive stroke and died a month later. A short reprieve of emotional healing followed before we were hit hard again with the unexpected death of my wife's young cousin, Heather, who had just given birth to twins -- a boy and a girl -- at the age of 26. After her return home from the hospital, Heather put the babies down for a nap one morning, laid down for one herself, and never woke up.

So, you see, we no more came to terms with one death, before being hit with the sledgehammer force of another. This would be difficult for one person to deal with -- even a person of faith like myself -- but when the entire family shares the grief equally, it can be devestating. You can be brave, put your trust in God, and carry on, and folks will say "They're taking it remarkably well. I'm not sure I could have handled it if I were in their shoes." What they see is the courageous front, strong and seemingly at peace with the situation. What they don't see is the tender underbelly of pain and grief lying underneath. The tears, the doubts, the fears, the awful anger... directed toward Old Man Death and, yes, admittedly and shamefully, toward the very Lord Himself.

People deal with grief in different ways. My way is a strange sort of apathy. I grow depressed, lazy, and tend to procrastinate. This is what happened  to yours truly as the visits to the funeral home grew more frequent and standing, grave-side, at the cemeteries grew more and more unbearable. I concentrated on my family's emotional well being and spent less and less time on my writing. Manuscripts became overdue, ordered books gathered dust on my desk, signed, but unshipped. My desire to even write at all dwindled from a brilliant flame to a lukewarm ember. The Beneath the Bed fund-raising story -- that helped finance my daughter Reilly's trip to Europe -- should have been mailed out months ago, but instead lay in a stack, printed but unsigned. My friends and fans, editors and publishers, first grew concerned, then gradually grew irritated at my blatant disregard and inactivity. I found myself sitting down before the computer monitor, fingers poised above the keyboard, staring dumbly at a blank screen, uninspired. Sometimes I would write a paragraph or two, or if I was lucky, a complete page. Then I would save the literary pittance I had managed to produce and turn the Word document off, only to waste precious time on Facebook and Twitter, which, for some odd reason, gave me comfort and occupied, and diverted, my troubled thoughts.

Yes, grief is so powerful that it takes hold of one of your greatest and most profound joys and lays it gray and shallow at your feet, to be neglected and trod upon. Life is a fragile thing and, at the loss of such, things like promised stories and manuscipt deadlines seem insignificant in comparison. Questions such as "Who will be next?" and "Will my children suffer and want in the event of my death?" come uncomfortably to mind, particularly in the dead of night.

Luckily, my faith in God carried me through those dark months, as it did my wife and three children. We believe in Heaven and know that our loved ones; the four we recently lost -- as well as my mother and grandparents, who passed on years before -- will be there in joyful reunion when our time comes to leave this mortal world.

I'm back at work now, picking up the pieces, trying to glue them back into some semblance of an ongoing writing career. It was difficult at first, getting back into the swing of things, but it grows easier and better every day. Stories are reaching completion, manuscripts are landing on the publisher's desks, and books and stories that folks paid good money for are gradually making their way to the post office. For those who waited, thanks for your patience and your understanding. For those of you who were impatient and sometimes cruel, I find no fault in you, for I know you believe that your reactions were justified... and perhaps rightly so.

The Southern-fried horror skillet is back out of the cupboard and on the blazing eye of the stove once again, cooking new tales of darkness and suspense for your literary supper plate. I've always tended to use my life experiences to fortify and season my fiction, and I'm certain that these past months of grieving and soul-searching will eventually prove to serve me, and you, the reader, in the same manner. In time, they will make it into your anxious hands, beneath your reading lamp, and upon your book shelf, where sadness and woe evolves, Phoenix-like, into the written word... and pathos transforms into prose.