Southern-Fried & Horrified: News & Notions from Horror Author Ronald Kelly

TIMBER GRAY and CUMBERLAND FURNACE... Ready to Order from Bad Moon Books!

2011-05-14T03:21:00.001-07:00

Roy Robbins at Bad Moon Books just informed me that the trade paperback editions of both Timber Gray and Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables will be available and ready to ship on May 20th!

Both of these books were previously only available in digital e-book format, but BMB has now brought them to true-book life in these slick paperback editions. Cumberland Furnace is a much-expanded edition of the seven story mini-collection, featuring 22 previously-published tales of Southern-fried horror, as well as several brand new stories. Timber Gray is my first published western novel. It is not a horror western, but is a very dark and violent tale of a wolf hunter who must deal with his hatred of timber wolves following the violent deaths of his family, as well as endure the hardships of blizzards, renegade bounty hunters, and other dangers as he tracks fifty maurading wolves across the Bighorn Mountains of northern Wyoming.

You can order your copies now at: http://www.badmoonbooks.com/home.php?cat=89

And be sure to keep an eye open for more news concerning upcoming Ronald Kelly/Bad Moon Books projects that are currently in the works!

Pod of Horror #64 with Legendary Horror Author Ronald Kelly

2011-04-12T13:51:00.000-07:00

Hey, they said it... not me!

I reckon you might be considered in that league if you've been around as long as I have and survived as many publishing disasters. The big question is: do I feel legendary? And the resounding answer would be: heck no! It's hard to feel very legendary when you have to drag yourself out of bed at 3AM to go to work and drag home ten hours later, reeking of oil, grease, and raw steel. But if they want to say that, well, I'll humbly endure it and grin like a persimmon-eating possum. Of course, if my head begins to swell too big, my wife is always within earshot to stick the pin in the balloon with requests like "Mr. Legend, could you please plunge that turd out of the commode?" or "It's time to take the garbage to the dump, your Royal Hind-Endness."

If you'd like to hear what ol' Legendary Ron has in the works these days, you can head on over to Mark Justice's excellent Pod of Horror at Horror World. There, I talk about a variety of topics: my upcoming books, how my religious beliefs effect my horror writing, and the long-awaited unveiling of the true identity of "Publisher X"... the forthcoming publisher of the Essential Ronald Kelly Collection. You can also chuckle in amusement as I drawl and twang like a backwoods hillbilly wired on Red Bull.

http://www.horrorworld.org/poh.htm

And always remember, if you see me on the street, I'm never too legendary to sign books, shake your hand, or kiss your ugly baby.

A Library of Southern-Fried Horror... now at Amazon Kindle!

2011-03-25T18:40:00.000-07:00

All you folks with Kindles, Nooks, and other new-fangled reading devices... gather 'round! Ol Ron is serving up a heaping helping of Southern-fried horror down at the Kindle Store. Nine terrifying titles and more to come!

http://www.amazon.com/s/qid+1300701995/ref+sr_pg_1?ie=UTF88&keywords+Ronald+Kelly&rh=n%3A133140011%2Cn%3A%21133141011%2Ck%3ARonald+Kelly&page+1

The supper bell's a-ringing. Come and get it... if you dare!

CUMBERLAND FURNACE & TIMBER GRAY... Now Up For Pre-Order!

2011-03-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

Bad Moon Books has just put up two of my upcoming titles for pre-order.

Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables is my second full-fledged short story collection. It contains 22 tales of Southern-fried fright, including several previously unpublished stories. This is the print version of the digital collection released by Crossroad Press in 2010, except greatly expanded. It also contains a section of story notes giving my thoughts on every tale in the collection.

Timber Gray is my first published western novel (if you don't include the ones I ghost-wrote for the Jake Logan series back in the early 90s). It is much darker and more violent than your run-of-the mill western, detailing a man's struggle with his intense hatred of timber wolves, as well as his battle with shadows of the past; madness, grief, and death.

These two BMB editions will be offered in trade paperback for the affordable price of $17.95 each. They both boast wonderfully intense covers by master horror artist Zack McCain.

You can pre-order your copy at the following links:

http://www.horror-mall.com/badmoonbks/product.php?productid=22154&cat=0&page+1&featured

http://www.horror-mall.com/badmoonbks/product.php?productid=22155&cat=0&page+featured

Hope y'all enjoy them!

UNHINGED: Tales of Darkness & Depravity

2011-03-01T14:34:00.000-08:00

My newest digital collection, UNHINGED: Tales of Darkness & Depravity, is now available from Crossroad Press.

This collection of eleven stories explores the darkest side of the human psyche. Serial killers, mass murderers, and other no account folks stalk these pages. UNHINGED includes some old favorites as well as several new, never-before-published tales.

You can get yours here:

http://store.crossroadpress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=22_29_93&products_id+238

UNHINGED is also available at the Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords websites.

Hope you enjoy this excursion into darkness!

TWILIGHT HANKERINGS: Things That Go Bite In The Night

2011-02-19T22:13:00.000-08:00

My new e-book collection, Twilight Hankerings: Things That Go Bite In The Night, is now available from Crossroad Press.

This collection of eight stories involve a ravenous gathering of creatures whose appetites go into over-drive when the shadows of evening fall and the night hours rings the dinner bell. You'll find just about every creature imaginable in this collection; everything from vampires and werewolves, to man-eating caterpillers, backwoods succubi, and things that lay patiently by the side of the road, waiting for the curiosity of some unfortunate victim to spring the trap.

You can purchase Twilight Hankerings now at:

http://store.crossroadpress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=22_29_93&products_id=231&zenid=ndtpjrhkrjt1rpttqcn9co7bl

Twilight Hankerings should also be available on Amazon Kindle, Smashwords, and Barnes % Noble in a day or so. Also, watch this blog for another upcoming collection titled Unhinged: Tales of Darkness & Depravity, which features some of my best dark crime stories concerning serial killers, mass murderers, and other no-account folks. Hope you enjoy them both!

Ronald & Joyce's 20th Anniversary!

2011-01-29T03:38:00.001-08:00

Today my wife, Joyce, and I are celebrating two decades together as man and wife.

I consider myself extremely fortunate to have lucked up on such a wonderful soulmate and thank the good Lord every day for blessing me in such a way. Joyce and I met under very odd circumstances back in January of 1991, marrying a mere nineteen days following our first date. Alot of folks claimed that we were foolish and hasty in our decision, but, hey, we proved them all wrong, didn't we? You can't deny true love and that's what we have, plain and simple.

Joyce has been with me through the good times and the bad, through triumph and tears. Under the rainbow and through the fire we walk, arm and arm, and I know with God and Joyce on my side I can weather any storm. She's blessed me with three incredible children and, together, we've tried to do our best for them and raise them in a loving, Christian home. Joyce was there for me during those dark days following the loss of my first horror-writing career and supported 100% when I decided to come back to writing. She is a truly amazing woman!

Yesterday, we spent a day out together, with the kids in school and daycare. We went to see a couple of movies together... Country Strong and True Grit... and went out to eat a couple of times. No great romantic getaway, but just being together, hand in hand, was terrific and we had a wonderful time.

I'm hoping that we will be blessed with another many more decades together. I couldn't ask for anything more in life than to spend it with her. I love you, Sweetie!

New Story at Literary Mahem!

2011-01-24T14:29:00.000-08:00

I've got a new story featured in the fiction section of Peter Schwotzer's Literary Mahem website for your reading pleasure (?).

It's called "Devourer" and takes place in the snowy foothills of the Tennessee Smokies in the dead of winter (how's that for timing?). It also includes a chilling sketch by artist Robert Aragon.

While reading the story, be sure to take note of the "Devourer" and "Darkhaven", both of which play major roles in my next novel, A Dark & Bloody Ground.

You can check it out here: http://literarymayhem.com/wordpress/ronald-kelly-devourer/

Bon Appetit, y'all!

A Piercing Development

2011-01-21T14:03:00.000-08:00

"You got another friend request," my wife said, sitting in front of the computer the other night.

I peeked around the doorway of the kitchen, where I was doctoring a pot of chili. "Who is it?" Since finally deciding to indulge in the Facebook community, I've dreamt about recieving friend requests from Stephen King or Clint Eastwood or Gene Simmons from KISS -- somebody really famous -- although, for some reason, that hasn't happened yet.

"Some girl," she answered. "An Alexandrious Skabrenenski."

Intrigued, I put the chili on low heat. Walking into the living room, I peered over Joyce's shoulder. The request claimed that we had eight mutual friends. Looking at the tiny roll of faces, I recognized all eight as fellow horror writers, all well-respected and of sterling character. When we share that many friends, I usually okay the request without question. "Go ahead and confirm it," I told her.

My wife wasn't so quick to act, though. "Maybe we should check her out first." When we pulled up Alexandrious's page, we saw her profile photo a bit more clearly. She was a ravishing beauty with an unruly mane of golden Farrah Faucett hair and an ample bosom that would have put Dolly Parton to shame. Her eyes were partially closed and her lips in mid-sigh, as though in the throes of passion... or dozing off. It was hard to tell which.

"Why, she can't be a day over 22," Joyce said. "Why would she want to be your friend?"

I had to admit, pretty girls requesting to be my friend was an unlikely occurance (the rare exception being my wife, God bless her!) Then an idea came to mind. "Maybe she saw me at a convention and admired my virile manliness from afar."

The look on Joyce's face told me that she didn't believe that for a second.

Suddenly, I figured out what was going on. "You don't think she's one of those piercing gals, do you?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Joyce pulled up her profile. At first it seemed to be legit. She even claimed to have attended a Christian college in Iowa ( although I had a difficult time believing there was actually an Alexandrious Skebrenenski enroled in the Iowa educational system.) Then my wife positioned the cursor over the photograph and the caption magically appeared.

"Hi. My name is Alexandrious. I got a new piercing today, but I can't show it to you here. Please log onto Blah-Blah-Blah.com for a better look. You must be 18 years old or older to register."

I can't say that I was surprised. I'd recieved a couple of other dubious requests a few days earlier, one from a woman in Indonesia and another from a young lady in Peru. Each one had extended the exact same invitation, word for word, and all had sported exotic names and photos.

I hate to admit it, but I couldn't help but ask. "I wonder where... you know... her piercings are?"

"I'll give you two guesses," Joyce said. "And you'd probably be right on both counts."

Annoyed with my indecision, she asked "Refuse and block?" For a second, I was certain that I detected a tiny hint of jealousy in her eyes. Maybe she was peeved because she had never recieved her own piercing-viewing invitation from strange men with intriguing names like Studdly McNuggets or Antonio Testosteroni.

I gave her the safest -- and most diplomatic -- answer possible. "Refuse and block." Which she did at lightning speed.

I could see how such an unwanted -- but enticing -- spam request might appeal to a middle-aged man on the downhill side of fifty. It was an unexpected boost to the male ego to recieve a friend request from a scantly-clad twenty-something girl from a strange and exotic land (well, Iowa could be strange and exotic, if you use your imagination). But, being the church-going fella and devoted husband I am, I simply gritted my teeth, averted my eyes, and declared "Get thee behind me, devil woman who jingle-jangles like a cowboy's spurs on a grueling cattle drive!"

Still, those lude invitations have made me wonder about the whole piercing scene and exactly what the appeal of it is. Not that I'm totally ignorant to such acts of self-expression as tattooing and body piercing. I've come across certain individuals on the job who were walking advertisements for such indulgences. I've seen multiple piercings in ears, noses, and eyebrows. Several guys I've worked with actually had tongue studs, which would seem like a terribly painful ordeal. One giant of a fellow had a golden stud on his tongue roughly the size of a golf ball (or so it seemed to me). I've never actually inquired about the purpose of a tongue stud... although, from the sly grins on their faces, I could very well imagine what it would be. I even came across a rather weird dude who liked to be pierced beneath his shoulder blades by giant fish hooks and suspended from the ceiling. I never knew if he was pulling my leg or not, but knowing him, he was probably on the up-and-up.

Out of curiosity, I Googled "body piercing jewelry" the other day and was amazed at the variety of doo-dads you could purchase. Studs, rings, chains... you name it, they've got it in their inventory. You can even get charms, like those on a charm bracelet. Little cheerleading megaphones, your high school graduation year, and tiny baby shoes complete with birthstone. I'd say they would be right popular with some distant relatives in the Kelly family tree. "Look, y'all... I've got a golden fooler hanging from my right nostril in commemoration of little Bubba's first birthday!" (In case you don't know what a "fooler" is, its a southern expression for a baby pacifier.)

Personally, I suppose I can see justification in tattoos over piercings. Tats can be a doggone work of art if done right. I've even seem Alex McVey's blue werewolf painting -- which graces the cover of my upcoming book, Undertaker's Moon -- turned into a pretty cool-looking tattoo. Of course there are disadvantages. With age, tats can stretch and distort, turning into a fleshy version of a Salvadore Dali painting. I've witnessed enough sixty year old grandmothers with lower back tattoos in Wal-Mart to know that for a fact.

Truthfully, I don't mean to intentionally poke fun at folks with body piercings. Maybe I'm just a little old-fashioned or just blissfully ignorant of the true motivation behind the whole body piercing phenomenon. The way I see it, if God had intended for us to have extra holes in our bodies, He would have put them there Himself. But, hey, if folks want to hang ornaments from themselves like a dad-gum Christmas tree, that's their business, not mine.

AFTER THE BURN from Thunderstorm Books Now Available for Pre-Order!

2011-01-10T04:06:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to announced that my collection of post-apocalyptic horror tales, AFTER THE BURN, is now available for pre-order at Thunderstorm Books!

This collection of two novellas and six short stories follows the exploits of a handful of survivors in a nuclear-devestated world ruled by the dregs of the earth; serial killers, child molesters, rapists, and cannibals, as well as radiation-evolved mutants. AFTER THE BURN is a project that I've had in mind for many years -- over twenty years, in fact -- originating way back when my story "Flesh Welder" was first published in 1990. But don't expect Ol' Ron to pull any punches in this one. ATB is my most extreme and explicit work yet (would you expect any less in a post-apocalyptic world where evil reigns over goodness?) However, an inspirational theme does thread its way throughout the majority of the stories, showing that hope and decency will, eventually, prevail over the most heinous of tragedies, even a man-made Armageddon.

AFTER THE BURN is being offered in a special, limited hardcover edition as one of Thunderstorm Books Black Voltage titles. The design and production values are first-rate with this one and boasts yet another incredible cover by artist Zach McCain, this one depicting the majority of the characters in the book, which is vast.

You can put in your order for AFTER THE BURN now at:

http://www.thunderstormbooks.com/aftertheburn.php

Back in the Saddle Again... with a Herd of Southern Horror!

2011-01-01T20:35:00.000-08:00

The latter half of 2010 was sort of tough for Ol' Ron. After an idyllic two week vacation in Flrorida back in June, a black cloud seemed to loom over the horizon and things got a little stormy and off kilter. I missed work due to one illness or another, the head gasket blew in the engine of my car, and I was practically blind in my left eye because of a nasty Stage-4 cataract. I had cataract surgery toward the latter half of Novemeber and what should have been a cut and dried procedure led into further complications when the lens implant slipped downward and we had to go back into the operating room and do it all over again. Due to all of this happening within a matter of only a few months, I must admit a stretch of depression set in. I attributed the majority of my inactivity as far as writing, blogging, and corresponding to my eye condition, but, looking back, I realize that a lot of it had to do with an almost crippling bout of low spirits on my part.

But the improvement of my eyesight in early December and the arrival of the Christmas season did wonders to drive those black clouds away and now I'm officially back in the saddle again. As 2010 ends and 2011 begins, I can see a brighter, more prolific, much more published future ahead. Here are just a few projects I have scheduled with publishers for the coming year:

Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear Forged Fables / In early 2010, Crossroad Press released an e-book collection of my short stories published after my return to horror in 2006. In late January or February of 2011, Bad Moon Books will release a trade paperback edition of this best-selling digital collection. Not only will it contain the original nine stories of Cumberland Furnace, but also most of the short stories that didn't make it into my first short story collection, Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors, as well as selections from my extreme horror collection The Sick Stuff and several formerly unpublished tales. 23 stories in all, if my recollection is right.

Timber Gray / Around the same time as the Cumberland Furnace release, Bad Moon will be publishing a trade paperback edition of my first western novel, Timber Gray. This straight-forward, yet dark and suspenseful western was also first offered as a digital book for Crossroad this past year. The storyline involves a wild game hunter-for-hire who pursues a pack of fifty murderous wolves across the Bighorn Mountains of northern Wyoming. Along the way he encounters both friendship and menace of a human nature; an obsessed preacher and his frightened family, a cowboy on the run from the law, and a band of blood-thirsty bounty hunters.

After the Burn / Sometime during the spring or summer of 2011, Thunderstorm Books will be releasing my post-apocalyptic horror collection, After the Burn, as one of their Black Voltage limited hardcover edtiions. It will contain two novellas and six short stories following the exploits of survivors existing in a nuclear-ravaged world inhabited by serial killers, child molesters, radiation-infected mutants, and cannibals. And it boasts yet another incredibly unique cover by artist Zach McCain. You can reserve your copy of After the Burn now at: http://www.thunderstormbooks.com/aftertheburn.php

The Essential Ronald Kelly Collection - Volume 1: Undertaker's Moon / Finally, after making the rounds with several ill-fated publishers, my Irish-Werewolves-in-Tennessee novel, Undertaker's Moon, will finally see print in a lavish hardcover edtion as the first volume of The Essential Ronald Kelly Collection. As I've said several times before, the Essentials will be offered by a yet undisclosed (but highly respected) small press publisher. Undertaker's Moon (formerly published in 1991 by Zebra Books as Moon of the Werewolf) will feature Alex McVey's infamous "Blue Wolf" cover, as well as a brand-new "prequel" novella titled "The Spawn of Arget Bethir". UM should be available in late spring or early summer of this year.

More Kelly fiction from Cemetery Dance...

I'll have several new projects coming from Cemetery Dance Publications in 2011 and 2012. So far this is what I have lined up...

* The Crane House / This is a Halloween round-robin tale that I participated in recently. Along with my contribution, it includes the dark talents of such respected horror masters as Brian Keene, Kealan Patrick Burke, Al Sarantonio, Rick Hautala, Bev Vincent, Brian Freeman, James A. Moore, James Newman, Norman Prentiss, and Ray Garton.

* La Sanguinaire / This continuation of my 1988 Deathrealm story, "The Web of La Sanguinaire" will be offered as one of CD's upcoming Signature Series books. And you all know how I love to write a good spider story, especially one that takes place in the dark, dank swamps of Louisiana!

* A Dark & Bloody Ground / My next full-length novel (now in progress) will be a historical conspiracy/horror suspense story about an evil Southern state totally erased from the annals of American history... until a husband and wife team, who have searched for the truth behind the legend of Syntrillia and its hellish capital of Darkhaven, stumble upon an ancient map pinpointing their whereabouts. With a half-Cherokee moonshiner named Ruby Buchanan along to guide them, they travel into the wilderness of the Appalachian Mountains in search of the missing providence... and soon wish that they had left well enough alone.

So there you have it... a generous helping of Southern-fried horror coming your way during the coming months of 2011 and beyond. Keep an eye on RonaldKelly.com and my blog site, Southern-Fried & Horrified, for updates on these novels and collections, along with various short stories peppered in-between!

Eye Problems... Again

2010-11-22T13:56:00.000-08:00

Some of you out there have probably noticed that I haven't been blogging with the frequency I once did. And if you are an editor or publisher, you've likely figured out that I haven't exactly have been as prolific with my horror-writing during the past few months. The same goes for my backlog of email and the foreboding amount of books in my to-be-read pile.

Truth of the matter is, I've been having eye problems... again. It's that danged, old left one, too; the one I had surgery on in the spring of 2009. Over the past eight months I've developed a rather nasty cataract that has progressed at an alarming rate and, currently, I'm pretty much blind in that eye, only able to see shadow and light. Also my loss of focus in my left eye has thrown it off kilter again and it's been wandering all over creation, like a pack of coon hounds off the leash.

Anyway, I'm going under the knife tomorrow morning in Nashville at 9:15 AM to get the problem taken care of. Hopefully, tomorrow's procedure will give me decent sight in that eye once again and, in turn, straighten it back out. And, as a result from seeing in 3-D again, I should grow alot more prolific with the Southern horror and more sociable as far as my blogging, emailing, forum-posting, etc. are concerned.

If you're the praying kind, say a little one for Ol' Ron when you get up in the morning and, if you ain't, some good thoughts and vibes sent my way would be greatly appreciated. The thought of someone taking a scalpel to my eyeball tends to rattle my cage a bit and who knows what might happen. The doctor might sneeze or fart at just the wrong moment.

Anyhow, I just wanted to let you folks know what was going on. If you're P.O.'d at me for failing to return your email or meeting a writing deadline, hopefully you won't take a cue from Poe's "Tell Tale Heart" and end up burying me beneath the floorboards... even if I do have the accursed "vulture eye" for it.

Dark Dixie 2 & Hell Hollow Digital Two-Pack

2010-10-23T05:38:00.000-07:00

Crossroad Press has just released my new digital story collection, Dark Dixie 2 : Tales of Southern Horror. This is a companion collection to the first Dark Dixie. DD2 is much darker in nature, wandering into shadowy places where the first book never ventured. The Southern-fried flavor is still there; from the dankness and decay of the Louisiana swamps, to the dust and sweat of Texas, and into familiar territory of my own, the mossy gloom of the Tennessee backwoods, as well as the turned earth of its furtile farmland. Creatures lurk within the pages as well. Spiders and gators, things dwelling within jars and the currents of the wind, and the abominations of Hell, let loose to run joyfully rampant in the night. Plus, it features another incredibly eerie cover by my pal, Zach McCain.

Right now, Crossroad is running a two-for-one special; both Dark Dixie 2 and my new novel, Hell Hollow, for the low price of $6.99. If you are into digital fiction or haven't yet read my brand of Dixiefied horror, this would be an excellent opportunity to get nearly 600 pages of Southern-fried fiction for a very affordable price.

You can get this Dark Dixie 2/Hell Hollow two-fer pack in a variety of digital formats at Crossroad Press now at: http://store.crossroadpress.com/index.php?cPath=22

And the Winner is...!

2010-10-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to announce that Brian Shaner of Covington, Georgia is the winner of the Horribly Hairy Halloween contest over at RonaldKelly.com.

Brian will recieve a future copy of the upcoming Undertaker's Moon limited edition, a Blue Wolf print by Alex McVey, the Wolfman Legacy DVD collection, and three werewolf stories written, inscribed, and illustrated by yours truly.

Congratulations, Brian, and a big thanks to everyone who entered this year!

Hell Hollow Digital & A Horribly Hairy Halloween Contest!

2010-10-01T13:16:00.000-07:00

Since October 1st marks the beginning of the Halloween season, I'm starting out Southern-Fried & Horrified with a couple of announcements that would make the most down-in-the-mouth Jack-O-Lantern grin with fiendish delight! So here we go...

Hell Hollow... now in digital!

Today Crossroad Press released my latest novel, Hell Hollow, in digital format. Now you can join Keith, Rusty, Chuck, and Maggie on their quest to defeat the evil medicine show man, Doctor Augustus Leech, on your Kindle or home computer. And, considering that this book is a whopping 500 pages, you can't beat the price at a mere $4.99. That's right, that's less than a penny a page for a trip to the dark and dangerous depths of Hell Hollow! The signed limited edition of HH is still available from Cemetery Dance for $40, but if you prefer the convenience and affordability of the digital version, you can get it now at Crossroad Press: http://crossroadpress.com/catalog

A Horribly Hairy Halloween Contest

Well, it's that time again! Time for our 3rd annual Halloween contest at my official website, Ronald Kelly.com. This year we're paying tribute to one my favorite monsters; the howler of the night, the shunner of wolfbane, the moon-bathed hunter of man and beast alike... the beloved Werewolf. And the hirsute prize package we're giving away this year is likely to please the most faithful lycanthrope lover! This year's lucky winner will recieve the following items:

Undertaker's Moon / Volume #1 of the Essential Ronald Kelly Collection

One of the very first copies of my Irish werewolf novel, scheduled to be released in Spring of 2011 by Publisher X (no, I'm still not going to let the cat out of the bag... not yet!). This limited hardcover edition of Undertaker's Moon (formerly published as Moon of the Werewolf by Zebra Books in 1991) will boast upgraded production values, a bonus novella titled "The Spawn of Arget Bethir", an insightful article on the writing of the novel, and, of course, Alex McVey's infamous "Blue Wolf" cover. As soon as I recieve my author's copies of UM, a single copy will be reserved for the contest winner and personally signed and inscribed by Ol' Ron.

Blue Wolf art print by Alex McVey

A large, suitable-for-framing, high-quality print of Alex's blue werewolf cover, signed by the master himself.

Universal's THE WOLF MAN Legacy DVD Collection

A brand-new, unopened copy of Universal Studios' The Wolf Man Legacy DVD Collection, featuring such time-honored horror classics as the original 1941 The Wolf Man starring Lon Chaney Jr., Werewolf of London, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, and She-Wolf of London.

Three signed, inscribed, and illustrated Ronald Kelly werewolf short stories

And last, but not least, three werewolf stories (in traditional manuscript form) from yours truly. This trio of tales includes Peacemaker, Thinning the Herd, and a yet-to-be-published story titled Then Came a Woodsman. Each will have my signature, a personal inscription to the winner, and a piece of original werewolf art (drawn by myself, no less!) on the last page of the story.

So don't wait for the first full moon of the cycle to roll around! Head on over to http://ronaldkelly.com/ and enter today for your chance to win this brazenly bestial prize package!

William Rasmussen's Claw Marks & Other Disturbing Diversions

2010-09-16T13:21:00.000-07:00

If you were a horror fan back in the late 80's and early 90's, the name William C. Rasmussen would have been a familiar one to you, along with folks like Bentley Little, Elizabeth Massie, and Wayne Allen Sallee. Rasmussen was a fixture in the various small press magazines that were so plentiful during that time; a dependable and creative writer who could deliver great stories of darkness and suspense time and time again without disappointment. Bill and I shared the table of contents in quite a few of those limited-run magazines... publications like Deathrealm, Eldritch Tales, and 2 AM, to name only a few. We both appeared in the first issue of Cemetery Dance Magazine, too, so we pretty much found ourselves bumping into one another (story-wise) on a regular basis during those fun days of small press horror. Then toward the mid-90's we both disappeared from the scene; me because of the implosion of the horror market and Zebra's dumping of their horror paperback line, and Bill due to the pressures of family life and working as an FBI agent in New York City, which gave him little time to write, let alone pursue a full-fledged writing career.

Like me, he vanished for a long time. Also, like me, he is back behind the keyboard again. Bill's first short story collection, Claw Marks & Other Disturbing Diversions has just been released as a digital e-book by Crossroad Press. I had the pleasure of reading Claw Marks before its publication and, believe me, Mr. Rasmussen is still a master storyteller with much to offer the horror genre. The collection contains 16 stories. Some are gems from those small press days of the past, while others are new and just as frightfully gripping as a Bill Rasmussen story should be. All in all, it's a fun and entertaining selection of tales that will keep you on the edge of your easy chair.

You can purchase Claw Marks & Other Disturbing Diversions from Crossroad Press at http://crossroadpress.com/ for an incredible $2.99. Take it from me, this would be a wonderful opportunity for fans of Horror Past to relive some great stories from one of the best short story writers around at that time and for current horror readers to discover an incredible talent they were previously unaware of.

Smack-Down at the Cracker Barrel

2010-09-04T03:49:00.000-07:00

On the way home from our recent vacation to Florida, things got, shall I say, a bit stressed out as we passed through Atlanta and headed on toward Chattanooga. The kids were restless and worn out from the long drive that day, especially my youngest daughter, Makenna. When I suggested a snack of chips, she flatly requested Sun Chips. Well, the big Frito/Lay chip assortment that we bought for the trip didn't have Sun Chips. This sort of freaked out my five-year-old. For ten or fifteen minutes, in the busiest section of downtown Atlanta, with my wife driving, Makenna loudly expelled a maddening mantra of "I want Sun Chips, I want Sun Chips, I WANT SUN CHIPS!"

No amount of soothing words on my part could end that nerve-grating tantrum. It wasn't long before Joyce had had enough and, screeching to a halt off a nearby exit, hopped out of the van and dealt some old-fashioned Southern mother discipline. Nothing drastic, mind you -- we don't believe in beating our young'uns half to death, the way our parents did back in old days -- but she delivered just enough of a "leg-pop" to end Makenna's demand for Sun Chips and bring blessed silence to the interior of the Town & Country once again. Looking around, I saw everyone was in need for a pit-stop and, since it was already approaching six in the evening, I suggested "Why don't we stop somewhere nice and eat? Maybe Cracker Barrel?"

That seemed to lift everyone's flagging spirits considerably. Cracker Barrel has always been a favorite restaurant with the Kelly family. The rustic setting, high-backed rocking chairs on the front porch, Southern-themed antiques hanging from the walls and ceiling, and gallon upon gallon of sweet tea... all make for a comforting atmosphere for folks who grew up eating in Grandma's kitchen instead of a prim-and-proper dining room.

So we detoured off an exit just outside Atlanta. Everyone was hungry and ready to eat. Fortunately, we hit the restaurant at just the right time; we were ushered to our table with no waiting involved. Customarily around suppertime, you can wait up to an hour or more for a table at Cracker Barrel, but this time we were sitting at our table within the span of forty-five seconds. The waitress, who seemed new and inexperienced -- she wore no year-commemorating stars on her brown apron -- showed up to take our orders. Our drink orders were a no-brainer... sweet tea all around. When it came to ordering our food, Joyce and I decided that the catfish plate would be a good choice. So we placed our order and waited. The kids occupied themselves with Cracker Barrel coloring books and that weird triangular puzzle with the colored pegs that graces each table.

When our food arrived and the plates were set before us, a pall of silence fell over the Kelly family (which can be both disturbing and a bit frightening, considering that we, as a bunch, are never silent for more than two seconds at a time). "Hope you enjoy your meal," piped the waitress, then left. My wife looked down at her plate. Anpeculiar expression crossed her face; sort of like she had been clubbed between the eyes with a ball-peen hammer. Uh-oh, I thought. This isn't good.

Lately, Cracker Barrel has been doing what every other restaurant chain has been doing since that mini gas crisis happened a couple of years ago; you know when gas reached three bucks and more a gallon? They've been trying to con the consumer into believing that less-bang-for-your-buck is a good deal, increasing prices while becoming downright stingy with their portions. They no longer bring out a heaping plate of cat-head biscuits and cornbread muffins, but ask which one you prefer and bring you out one or two for the duration of your entire meal. And where they used to serve you a mountain of turnip greens or hashbrown casserole, they now plop down a portion that had to be doled out with the smallest ice cream scouper imaginable.

Well, this evenings meal was no exception. When Joyce appraised her plate she found the following items: a small thimble-sized bowl of cole slaw, five steak fries, and a sorry little piece of breaded and fried catfish. One measly piece... not the two generous pieces that we were normally accustomed to.

Nope... not on our table.

Makenna couldn't help but giggle when she saw that tiny, curled-up piece of catfish. "Hey, Mama, that sort of looks like a dog turd!" she said out loud. And she was right. It looked more like something Old Yeller would have left out front of the cabin porch than anything that should have come out of a frying pan. We all thought that was funny and had a big laugh about it... except Joyce. That bewildered expression remained on her face and then her countenance slowly took on a brilliant crimson hue; one that I was quite familiar with, given that we have been married for going on twenty years. Joyce is the sweetest, kindest woman on the face of the earth and I'm blessed to have her as my blushing bride. But you don't rile her. And with this sorry plate of food, Cracker Barrel had just crossed the line.

She lifted her eyes from her plate and stared at me, causing my mirth to wither in mid-chuckle. Instantly, an old Southern saying sprang to mind... one that rings true today as much as it did years ago. "If Mama ain't happy... ain't NOBODY happy!"

Immediately, a hush fell across the supper table. The kids grew silent and averted their eyes from their mother, as if afraid that her sudden wrath might be turned mercilessly in their direction. "Let's call the waitress over and tell her," I suggested. Joyce wouldn't hear of it, though. "No, she said in a calm that spoke volumes about repressed rage and self-control. "I'll take care of it later." She lifted her fork. It hovered above the turd-sized catfish filet for an uneasy moment, then began to pick at it, breaking away the breaded crust, revealing the tender white meat underneath. In my mind's eye, I pictured a hungry lioness dissatisfied with a particularly puny gazelle she had been forced to settle for on the African savannah.

"But it won't be any trouble at all," I said, starting to lift my hand to hail our server. Joyce's eyes blazed from the opposite side of the table. "I SAID... I'll take care of it."

So there we sat, mostly in silence, eating our meager $7.99 meal, which should have been enough to fill our bellies, but, sadly, didn't come close. The waitress had left our ticket when bringing our plates. Frankly, I think she knew she had screwed up. We never saw her again during the course of our meal. No coming out to see if we wanted dessert. No prompt and friendly refills of sweet tea, which, in my wife's eyes, is as heinous and unpardonable as home-made sin.

Needless to say, no tip was left on the table when we departed. "Take the kids to the toy section while I take care of this," Joyce said. As she picked up the meal ticket for $33.75, I couldn't help but think that the scrap of paper resembled someone's death warrant in her hands. "Come on, guys," I said, hustling the young'uns off to the toy corner. "Mama's got some business to attend to."

At the toy section, the kids occupied themselves with Beany Babies and toy trucks, while I nervously glanced toward the sales counter. When Joyce finally got her turn at the register and the cashier asked her "How was your meal this evening?" it was at that moment that she let loose... not angrily or making a big scene, but in well-measured words. I couldn't hear what was taking place from where I stood, but I could imagine. A disturbed look crossed the cashier's face and she quickly called for the store manager.

I looked around the Cracker Barrel gift shop, at all the browsing customers, oblivious to what was about to go down, and a phrase from my youth crossed my mind. That niave warning the school teachers once drummed into our heads in the event that a thermonuclear device might be detonated in our rural neighborhood. "Duck and Cover!" As the chubby Cracker Barrel manager strolled out, dressed in shirt and tie, wearing a no-nonsense look on his face, I looked over at my wife standing there, more than ready. An image of the Enola Gay opening its bay doors over an unsuspecting Hiroshima flashed before my eyes.

Again, no fuss or fight evolved, drawing stares of dismay and fear from the restaurant patrons. And, thankfully, no local law enforcement was called to settle the situation. Joyce handled it in her own cool and collected manner. As my wife voiced her displeasure, a stricken expression crossed the manager's brow and his face paled several shades (which was a feat in itself, considering that he was of African-American decent). A moment later, Joyce called to us from the front door. "Let's go!" Soon, we where back in the van and on the road again.

"So... what happened?" I finally asked after a few minutes.

"Well, we didn't have to pay for it," she replied and that was really all that was said about that particular confrontation.

I was well aware that Joyce was more than glad to pay for whatever she ordered and, in no way, would attempt to swindle a free meal from her favorite restaurant. But when it came down to a food portion that looked more at home at the bottom of a pooper-scouper than on a supper plate, my wife was ruthless and showed absolutely no mercy.

The Long Road to Hell Hollow

2010-08-19T17:30:00.000-07:00

Last week, I did a guest blog on Jennifer Sicurella's excellent book review site, Reading with Tequila. It was called "The Long Road to Hell Hollow" and detailed the lengthy journey my latest novel, Hell Hollow, made between the time it was first written (1995) until its eventual publication (2010).

For those of you who missed it, here is the blog in its entirety:

THE LONG ROAD TO HELL HOLLOW

Have you ever taken a construction detour and found yourself traveling unfamiliar ground? Or maybe you took a short cut to save time and ended up lost and way off the beaten track?

That was sort of how it felt for me, concerning my newest novel, Hell Hollow, which, incidentally, isn't all that new after all. Let me explain...

In 1996, my horror-writing career was in full-swing. I'd had seven novels published by Zebra Books and another, Blood Kin, was on the verge of being released. Plus I had a couple more in the wings; Hell Hollow and Restless Shadows, a sequel to my first novel, Hindsight. Things seemed to be moving forward in a brisk and positive manner. But then, sometimes things aren't exactly how they seem to be.

There was trouble brewing in the horror world at that time... something we old-timers call the Big Horror Bust. What it all amounted to was an oversaturation of horror literature in the mass market publishing field. The good novels were being totally drowned out by the white noise of too many novels that were mediocre to downright bad. Horror was immensely popular between the mid-80's and mid-90's, and the publishers had all jumped on the bandwagon in a big way. But then they started over-doing it, releasing too many books that just weren't up to horror readers' standards, and eventually sales began to suffer. By '95 and '96 most of the larger paperback horror publishers were cutting their losses by ditching their horror lines completely. It was an uneasy time for horror authors back then; watching their peers lose their publishers left and right. I never thought it would ever happen to me... I reckon I was simply naive. Then, in October of '96, my agent gave me a call. My hopes for another multi-book deal from Zebra were dashed when I was informed that Zebra was shutting down their entire horror line and that I was basically out of business as far as they were concerned. Blood Kin would be released, but the other two, Hell Hollow and Restless Shadows would not.

Needless to say, I was devastated. I tried to pick up the pieces and find a new publisher, but it was impossible. No publishers were taking on new authors -- even established ones -- and especially not if horror was their speciality. Eventually, I tired of butting my head against the wall and simply gave up writing altogether. I stuck Hell Hollow and the other novel in a drawer and returned to the normal world; one without dealines, release dates, and hours behind the keyboard.

For ten years I existed in a non-writing limbo, resigned to the fact that I'd had my shot at the writing life and lost it due to no fault of my own. Then, in 2006, something peculiar happened. Folks started asking about me on the internet horror forums and buying my old books off eBay and Amazon. Some very good friends and loyal fans contacted me and convinced me to come back to the horror arena. Is it possible? I asked myself. Do I really have a second chance? After much soul-searching, I decided to try my hand at it again. Believe me, there was a generous amount of doubt and fear involved. I wondered if I still had what it took to write good, effective horror... or if I could even write at all, being out of practice for so very long. But as I began to write and submit new work, I found that my worries were unfounded. If anything, I seemed to be more prolific and actually write better than I had a decade before.

One of my first big deals was with Cemetery Dance Publications. Richard Chizmar gave me a call and suggested we do a short story collection and novel. My story collection would be Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors (published in 2009), while my comeback novel would be the long-unpublished Hell Hollow.

The deal was done and I waited. And waited... and waited. Due to Cemetery Dance's huge backlog of unpublished titles, Hell Hollow was in the pipeline for nearly four years. But, finally, my coming-of-age novel about four summertime friends and their battle against an evil medicine show man incarnated from a serial killer will be released this month. It's a whopper of a tale -- nearly five hundred pages in length -- with a wicked cover by horror artist Alex McVey. The folks at Cemetery Dance have done an incredible job with this book and I'm happy that it'll finally be available to my fans, both old and new.

So Hell Hollow's unforeseen detour -- one that spanned fifteen long years from conception to release -- is now at its end. Now I can let out a sigh of relief... and hope that needless detours -- at least in my horror writing career -- are a thing of the past.

Bad Moon Books to Publish CUMBERLAND FURNACE & TIMBER GRAY

2010-08-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to announce that Bad Moon Books will be publishing print versions of my best-selling digital books, Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables and Timber Gray.

Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables is my second full-fledged short story collection of Southern-fried horror tales, on the heels of Cemetery Dance's Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors. The digital e-book of Cumberland Furnace, released by David Niall Wilson's Crossroad Press this past Feburary, was a collection of seven stories that were written following my return to the horror genre after an absence of ten years. The "real" book version will be greatly expanded... offering 21 stories in all, both new and old, as well as a few that were previously unpublished. In other words, Cumberland Furnace will pretty much include everything that Midnight Grinding missed the first time around.

Timber Gray is my first honest-to-goodness western novel. It is pretty traditional, but also dark and violent. Timber Gray is about a man who loses his family -- and nearly his sanity -- to an attack by a pack of rabid wolves, then, over the years, evolves into one of the most sought after wolf hunters in the western territories. He encounters a turning point in his bloody career when a cattleman hires him to hunt down and destroy a pack of fifty marauding wolves led by the legendary Cripplefoot. As he pursues them through Montana and into the Bighorn Mountains of Wyoming, he gradually realizes that, beneath the anger and bitterness that rules his life, there is still a human side that remains; a side he thought had died a long time ago.

Bad Moon Books will be releasing both Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables and Timber Gray in affordable trade paperback editions. Publisher Roy Robbins and I are now hard at work preparing these two books for publication. As of right now, we have no definite release dates, but are hoping to make them available to the reading public by early to mid-2011. Watch for an announcement of the official release dates of these two new books in the near future, either here at Southern-Fried & Horrified, or at my website at www.ronaldkelly.com.

HELL HOLLOW is Here!

2010-07-30T20:30:00.000-07:00

The news is out! Cemetery Dance has begun shipping out big, fat copies of my newest novel, HELL HOLLOW.

As some of you may know, I've been waiting for HH's release for quite some time now... fifteen years, in fact, ever since Zebra originally had it on their publishing schedule back in the mid-nineties, around the time that they pulled the plug on their entire horror line. But that's all water under the bridge now. Cemetery Dance Publications has just released HELL HOLLOW in a beautiful limited hardcover edition that weighs in at a whopping 498 pages. And it boasts Alex McVey's incredible cover painting of Dr. Augustus Leech standing amid a swirl of brimstone and tortured souls. It's so striking that you can almost feel the heat of hell-flames crackling off the front cover!

HELL HOLLOW involves four kids who find themselves bored and restless during a sweltering Tennessee summer. Soon, that boredom turns into danger as they come across a shadowy place known only as Hell Hollow and its lone inhabitant, the sinister reincarnation of a traveling medicine show man named Dr. Augustus Leech, who possesses a hell-brewed elixir and a handful of cards that can bless you with your most cherished dream... or damn you with your most dreaded nightmare. Soon, Leech's intentions grow more and more evil, and revenge against the town of Harmony is foremost in his dark thoughts. It is up to the four children -- Keith, Rusty, Maggie, and Chuck -- along with a vengeful rape victim named Allison Walsh, to take the steps necessary to end Leech's reign of darkness and depravity once and for all...

You can order your copy of HELL HOLLOW now, directly from Cemetery Dance, at this link:

http://www.cemeterydance.com/page/CDP/PROD/kelly01

And while you're there, you can also pick up a copy of my short story collection, MIDNIGHT GRINDING & OTHER TWILIGHT TERRORS, still available from Cemetery Dance. It's jam-packed with 32 tales of Southern-fried horror, including the HELL HOLLOW companion story, "Grandma's Favorite Recipe". Grab yours while they're still available!

As you may have guessed, I'm pretty excited about HH's release. After all, the last novel I had published was BLOOD KIN way back in 1996. CD sent me a copy of HELL HOLLOW a few days ago and I've gotta tell you, it was a danged good feeling hefting that door-stopper of a book in my hands and savoring that wonderful new book smell drifting from its pages. Much thanks to Richard Chizmar, Brian Freeman, Mindy Jarusek, and Katherine Freeman for the care and attention they put into this tome. I couldn't be more pleased with how this project has turned out!

So, if you get bored this sweltering summer (and it has been dadgummed sweltering, hasn't it?) then you can always head down into the dark thicket and tangled kudzu of Hell Hollow, where the temperature stays several degrees cooler than the norm. But if you come across a ramshackle wagon and the bones of a skeleton in top hat and tails, you'd best consider skedaddling... before they reach out with stark, white fingers and pull you ever downward into the depths of an endless nightmare...

Back from Paradise: Two Weeks in the Sunshine State

2010-07-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

The Kelly kids breakfast with

Mickey at the Animal Kingdom

Family vacations have always been very important to me. When I was a kid, my parents always took us somewhere in the summer. We never had much money, so it was mostly day-trips... Rock City in Chattanooga, the zoo in Memphis, or Beech Bend Park in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Later, when I reached my teen years, we went to Florida a few times. Nothing major, but we always had a great time just being together and exploring new places.

That love of vacations carried over into my adult life. My wife, Joyce, loves to travel as much as I do. Shortly after we wed in 1991, we frequented Opryland in Nashville (before they tore it down and turned it into a super outlet mall... sheesh, don't get me thinking about that atrocity!) and we took trips to Disney World in '92 and '94. Now that my kids -- Reilly (12), Makenna (5), and Ryan (2) -- are part of the big picture, we try to visit the Land of Mouse every two or three years. Like myself, I want my children to look back when they are grown and fondly remember that their folks loved them enough to go the extra mile and take them places that were exciting and full of wonder and magic.

For several years now, Joyce and I have had this dream; to take two weeks off and spend the whole time in Florida, doing whatever we want to. Usually our money situation or vacation time at work just didn't cooperate enough for us to pull it off. But, finally, this June, things neatly fell into place. We both set aside two weeks of our vacation time and saved enough money -- due to pinching pennies and my writing earnings -- to live out our dream. On the second week of June, we traveled to the Sunshine State, spending nine days at Disney World and the rest of the time at the beach.

Before the journey, our preparations for the trip spanned a year's time (we're sort of anal when it comes our Disney trips). We even had our bags packed and ready, four or five months ahead of time. When the date of departure arrived, we rented a van -- a brand new Town & Country with roof racks and stow-and-go -- which is necessary when you're traveling with three kids. We headed out at midnight on a Sunday morning and arrived in Orlando around two o'clock that afternoon. Thankfully, the kids slept during half of the trip and there was a minimal amount of tantrums, requests for bathroom stops, or maddening mantras of "Are we there yet?" or "Daddy, Ryan's touching me!" We drove through the Disney World gates around two-thirty and arrived at our on-property resort, the All-Star Music Resort. Having used the on-line early check-in ten days before, we had no wait whatsoever. Joyce and I have been using the economic All-Star resorts for years, but since the rooms are the size of Cracker Jack boxes, it was becoming a little too cramped as our family grew. Not to worry this year. The All-Star Music just finished adding several hundred "family suites", which consist of a main living room with a chair, ottoman, and couch that fold out into three seperate beds, a seperate bedroom for the parents, two bathrooms (a pure blessing!) and a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, sink, and microwave. It was like dwelling in the lap of luxury, enjoying such spacious accommodations after suffering through claustrophobic confinement during previous visits.

During the next eight days, we divided our time between the four parks; the Magic Kingdom, Epcot, Disney Hollywood Studios (previously Disney-MGM), and the Animal Kingdom. The heat was sweltering with a heat index of around 100 degrees daily and the parks were horribly crowded, but we made the best of it, pacing ourselves and keeping cool with plenty of bottled water and portable fans. One day there were 6,500 red-shirted Pampered Chef folks in the Magic Kingdom, causing the lines to be even more long and tedious. We made good use of the Fast Pass feature when the masses were heavy, which gave you a pre-determined time to arrive back at a particular ride for fast and easy boarding. Also, Joyce and I have made so many trips to the World, that we pretty much know all the shortcuts and slow ride times. We practically breezed through the parks, rather than wandering around, dazed and overwhelmed, like most of the first-time novices. I'd say we could pretty much sit down and write a comprehensive Disney guide, if we had a mind to (which isn't a bad idea.)

Ryan exposes himself to a Little Einstein

The kids handled the heat and crowds well. Ryan, being in the midst of the Terrible Twos, had his shining moments of freaking-out hysteria and bouts of whining that would make fingernails on a blackboard sound like a soothing lullaby. He also developed what we soon came to call "The Sneaky Dance". He would begin to tip-toe slowly in the direction of a forbidden area, cut his eyes slyly at us, then laughingly run toward it like the Road Runner on speed. Restraining rails or ropes, or doors with EMPLOYEES ONLY had a maddening appeal to him for some odd reason and I found myself racing to catch him before disaster struck on more than one occassion (which isn't an easy feat for a fella who just turned 50 last November!) Once, a man in line snidely commented "You need to put that boy on a leash." I kinda gave him a dirty look, but, like a true Southern gentleman, held my tongue. I've always hated those child restraint leashes and will never subject my kids to such a thing. In Epcot I spotted a man leading three young'uns around on long leashes like a pack of baying bloodhounds.

Hanging out with Woody and Buzz at

Disney Hollywood Studios

After nine days of Disney, we were due for a little rest. So we packed up the van and headed for the beach. We avoided the western coast of Florida with it gelatinous globs of congealed petroleum that was washing up on the beaches in Pensacola and Destin. Instead, we drove to the Atlantic side toward St. Augustine, where my folks had taken me and my brother when we were young'uns. We rented a condo at Crescent Beach, a nice, quiet seashore community, and stayed right there on the beach, our balcony overlooking the ocean. This was the first time the kids had ever been to the beach, so they ate it up! We spent alot of time searching for seashells after the early tide, building sand castles, and playing in the ocean. After the hustle and bustle of the World, it was nice to unwind and take it easy. The beach was uncrowded -- no more than twelve or fifteen people on the sand at one time -- and the ocean breeze counteracted the oppressive heat, making it downright pleasant.

Looking for shells on the beach at daybreak

A couple of days, we drove the ten miles to St. Augustine and saw the sights there. We toured Castillo de San Marcos. a star-shaped fort the Spanish occupied when the city was first settled over 350 years ago. We also took a scienic cruise around the bay (but didn't see any dolphins, like they promised, dang it!). I also took the kids to the St. Augustine Alligator Farm, which hadn't changed very much at all since thirty-five years ago, when I lasted visited it. Makenna and Reilly were mesmerized and disgusted by the alligator feedings (the park rangers chucked huge two-toned rats at the reptile's toothy maws!) and Ryan seemed particularly taken with the albino alligators, which had been discovered in a particular backwater bayou in southern Louisiana twenty years ago.

These things don't really bite... do they?

One of mine and Reilly's favorite attractions was Potter's Wax Museum in the heart of St. Augustine. I had wanted to tour the museum when I was a kid, but my mother always claimed it was too expensive (I reckon ten bucks a head was a mite pricey back in the '70's). George L. Potter established the collection of over 160 wax figures in 1948, which is claimed to be the first honest-to-goodness wax museum in the United States. Among historical and fictional figures, Potter's have some eerily realistic figures of horror icons such as Frankenstein, the Mummy, Alien, and Freddy Kruger. One of my favorites was Herman Munster, so was in his wide-mouthed laughing pose.

Reilly shares a nightmare with Freddy

at Potter's Wax Museum

But, alas, all good things must come to an end and, by Friday of the second week, we had the van packed once again and was on the road homeward. It was nice living the life of vagabonds for a short while, unconcerned about bills and bosses and the day-to-day worries of the "real" world. But as we crossed the Tennessee border and grew nearer to home, the kids' voices rang out with "Are we there yet?" and I couldn't help but smile. Our two-week vacation was a trip of a lifetime for Reilly, Makenna, and Ryan, but it was nice to see them anxious to be home again, back in their own rooms, among their own stuff, where they belonged.

We're already planning our next trip to Florida; one week at the beach this time. And me and Joyce are even planning our own trip to Disney World... without the kids. Cruel, you may ask?

No, we've already discussed it with the young'uns and they seem to understand. Joyce and I have been married for nearly twenty years now and haven't been away alone for twelve long years. I think we deserve a second honeymoon. It's just finding someone who is willing to keep three Tasmanian devils for an entire week that will be the big trick....

THE MEMORY TREE... available again!

2010-06-26T15:46:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to pass on the good news... John R. Little's phenomenal novel, THE MEMORY TREE, is now available in a handsome paperback edition from Bad Moon Books.

As some of you may know, THE MEMORY TREE is one of my all-time favorite novels by one of my all-time favorite writers. John has a style and imagination unlike few in today's writing world and everything he produces is fresh and totally unlike anything you've read before. It was previously released in a very limited edition by Nocturne Press several years ago and, unfortunately for the reader and collector, is extremely rare and difficult to find. Kudos to Roy Robbins of Bad Moon Book for giving this book a second release in a much more accessible edition.

Incidently, I had the great pleasure and honor of writing the introduction to this new edition of TMT. This introduction was a very heartfelt one for me, dealing with tragic situations of the past and how John's novel helped me get through that tough time and find the courage to deal with one of the hardest things a father could ever face.

You can order your copy of THE MEMORY TREE at:

http://www.horror-mall.com/THE-MEMORY-TREE-by-JOHN-R.-LITTLE-trade-paperback-edition-p-20911.html

I encourage you to sit down and give this amazing book a read. After you finish, I'm sure it will find a place on your list of all-time favorite novels!

The Face of Horror: Then and Now

2010-05-24T13:14:00.000-07:00

As most of you folks know, I've had two seperate careers in the horror genre. One spanned from 1986 to 1996... the second from 2006 to present. So I've seen both sides of the horror fiction coin, so to speak.

When I returned to horror writing in July of '06, I found that the face of horror had changed over a stretch of ten years. I reckon I was expecting maybe a nip and tuck job. Instead, the face of horror seemed to had undergone a complete transplant. Where the horror landscape of the 80's and 90's had been like a nostalgic stroll through my hometown, the one I set foot upon in 2006 was like landing on the alien soil of Mars or some distant planet. Everything had changed. The authors, the artists, the publishers.... EVERYTHING. Needless to say, this was a little disturbing to one who hoped to pick up where he left off. Everywhere I turned looking for familiar faces, there lurked a stranger. Friendly strangers (for the most part), but strangers nonetheless. The internet had flourished during my long hiatus and the horror genre was firmly entrenched with its various websites and message boards. In my case, it was as though a team of scientists had unthawed a neanderthal man, gave him a suit of clothes and twenty bucks, and sent him off into the modern world, to seek fortune and fame. Yes, I was that out of touch with what horror as a genre -- books, films, etc.-- had evolved into during that long period when I had basically "shelfed" my horror writing ambitions and lived strictly in the real world.

Has it been difficult for me to adjust? Well, no, not really. First I actually had to go out and buy a computer (yes, I ashamedly admit that I was almost totally cyber ignorant when I decided to return.) But it didn't take long before I got the swing of things. Publishers came knocking on my door, making deals (thank God!), and the ball began to roll. Of course, if you know much about the small press, that ball can roll mighty slow sometimes. It took several years before my first hardcover short story collection, Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors, was published by Cemetery Dance. Around that time, things began to happened: a slick chapbook of Flesh Welder by Croatoan, followed by a nice little collection called The Sick Stuff from Thunderstorm Books. Then in '09 and the first half of '10 there were stories in various anthologies and magazines, a bunch of interviews, and even a few journeys into unknown territories; several e-books put out by David Niall Wilson's Macabre Ink and even a movie script of my novel Fear making the rounds with various production companies.

As the fourth anniversary of my return to horror looms over the horizon, I've been thinking of what divides the two "eras" of horror that I've experienced; both the differences and the changes. Here's my take on what it looks like... the horror genre of then compared to now.

THEN...

I think of the horror genre of the 1980's and 1990's (at least until around 1996) as the "Golden Age" of horror literature. Stephen King was king, followed closely by Dean Koontz, Peter Straub, and Anne Rice. Past masters of horror and dark fantasy -- Ray Bradbury, Charles Beaumont, Robert Bloch, and Richard Matheson -- were respected and held in high regard. There were numerous new horror authors on the scene, all with their own distinctive voice; Robert R. McCammon, Clive Barker, Joe R. Lansdale, Ray Garton, Poppy Z. Brite, to only name a few. Great mass market magazines of dark fiction graced the newstands; The Twilight Zone, Physical Graffiti, Night Cry. Small press horror was flourishing and dozens of limited-run magazines were the discovery zone of hungry readers and the proving ground of equally hungry new writers: The Horror Show, Deathrealm, Grue, Noctulpa, New Blood, After Hours, 2 AM, and, of course, the new kid on the block, Cemetery Dance. There was an almost festive aire about the genre. Readers basically read, rather than collected the work of their favorite horror authors. Publishing houses like Dark Harvest and Ziesing Books put out signed limiteds, but also inexpensive hardcover trade editions. Anthologies were cherished and featured the best of the big name horror writers and was the springboard for many a new author like Elizabeth Massie, Bentley Little, and yours truly. There was a tremendous amount of excitement about what was being written and published at that time. Those who read the splatter-punk of Skipp & Spector also enjoyed the quite, atmospheric horror of Charles Grant. The Horror Writers of America organization was held in high regard. Everyone who was anyone was a member and to finally make the proper sales to be able to join its ranks was a goal that was both earned and enjoyed.

Okay, now here's the...

NOW...

I am a little hazy about what saved the horror genre from the Big Horror Publishing Bust of the mid-90's, but this is my personal opinion. Much of it
had to do with the stubborn persistance of Richard Chizmar's Cemetery Dance Publications by publishing great horror when the mass market paperback publishers jumped ship. Also a single author seems to have had a great deal to do with reviving interest in horror fiction. Brian Keene. His zombie novels -- The Rising, City of the Dead, Dead Sea -- as well as novels like Terminal and The Conqueror Worms, seemed to have injected a fresh vitality into a genre that had been oversaturated with mediocre to just plain bad offerings in the mid-nineties. The genre seems much darker to me now; all business with very little levity to it at all. Extreme horror has become the cornerstone of today's dark fiction. Readers seem to prefer the brutal works of Keene, Bryan Smith, and Ed Lee to more subdued fiction. Maybe it's because they actually like their horror that way... or maybe it's because that's all they've ever known. When I come across a new horror reader, more than often, they began reading horror with Keene and went forward from there. Many seem annoyingly ignorant of great authors like McCammon, Lansdale, and Chet Williamson. I don't think that's actually their fault; a reader's focus seems to be narrower than it was back when I was writing horror for the first time. Everyone seems to gravitate to their favorite type of horror fiction and remains there, like a satellite orbiting a planet. When I suggest they try some novels from the 80's and 90's, many look at me like I just flicked a booger on their shirt or something. They seem oddly resistant to reading anything BK (Before Keene). Many say they don't want to invest alot of time in reading a new author (can you hear my teeth grinding in frustration?) Also there seem to be distinct factions or camps of fans who support certain authors -- mainly on various forums and message boards -- rather than a widespread horror community like it was back in my day. Many small press publishers flourish these days, releasing more horror than the mass market does... the exception being Leisure. These books are mainly high-dollar editions targeted for the collector, rather than the reader. The HWA -- now the Horror Writers Association, encompassing the world rather than simply the USA -- seems to have lost much of its initial respect. Hardly any big name authors pay dues there anymore and its ranks are mostly made up of unknown writers who have made the pro-cent-per-word requirements and campaign for Stokers like baby kissing (and butt-kissing) politicians.

Does my opinion of the horror genre's present state ring as negative compared to my positive memories of those golden days when I evolved from a high school senior with a dream into a full-fledged horror author? Well, maybe. It is vastly different and I'm slowly adapting to it. I find that my fiction is gradually becoming darker and more brutal as this second phase of my horror writing career progresses. Am I trying to imulate authors like Keene, Smith, and Lee? No. Am I trying to compete with them. Probably. The economic state of today's publishing industry is such that customers are having to pick and choose who they can afford to buy and collect. I know my old fans, as well as many new fans, will still buy and enjoy my old-style tales of Southern-fried Horror, but there are some who will become fans because of my more extreme fiction. Stuff like The Sick Stuff and other no-holds-barred books and stories that I have on the horizon.

So, with all that said, which era do I prefer? Then or Now? Honestly, both have their positives and negatives. The 80's and 90's were great for a horror author coming into his own, but there were downsides, like snail mail, lower pay, and, of course, the Big Bust. The horror genre of today has its share of advantages and opportunites, too, as well as its disadvantages. I'm currently working toward re-establishing myself as a popular author of horror, which is no easy feat these days, take it from me. To do that, I know I must make an effort to embrace both the past and present of horror, and, hopefully, use the best of both eras to satisfy old fans, while enticing new ones.

Horror has a new face. Ol' Ron's got a new one, too... a little older and grayer in the mustache, but also a bit wiser and hankering to break out the chills and thrills for a whole new generation of horror reader. I'm sharpening my pencils and keeping my fingers crossed. Hopefully, with your help, I can pull it off...

Cemetery Dance #63

2010-05-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

Issue #63 of Cemetery Dance Magazine is now out and about, slithering its way into the mailboxes of subscribers and lurking in the racks of Barnes & Noble, Borders, and other fine book stores. Although it's a few months later than the actual holiday, #63 is a special Halloween issue. But, hey, for lovers of Halloween (like yours truly) it's nice to have a creepy slice of October in balmy May.

This issue features fiction by Simon Clark, Rick Hautala, Elizabeth Massie, and other top names in horror, as well as some cool artwork by Steven C. Gilberts, William Renfro, Keith Minnion, Alan M. Clark, and a mixed pallet of other talented folks. And you'll read some of the best horror-related columns in the business by Mark Sieber, Bev Vincent, Ed Gorman, Ellen Datlow, Don D'Auria, and Thomas Monteleone.

Ol' Ron has a few things in #63 as well; a new short story, "Pelingrad's Pit", an interview conducted by Shannon Riley, and a spot in Brian Freeman's The Final Question. I'm right excited about appearing in this issue, since it's the first time I've had work appear between the covers of Cemetery Dance since way back in 1996.

By the way, if you read my story and say "What the heck does this have to do with Halloween?", well, it should have. CD has had "Pelingrad's Pit" for awhile and, when it was slated for the Halloween issue, I agreed to rework it and set it during All Hallows Eve. Then they turn around and use the old one instead of the Halloween upgrade. Go figger! But, heck, I'm just glad to see one of my stories in my favorite horror magazine once again.

You can get your copy at the local bookstore, or buy it direct here:

http://www.cemeterydance.com/sh/_cd063.html

Now that Cemetery Dance Magazine is gravitating toward a steady schedule, we'll be seeing alot more of the best the horror genre has to offer. CD #64 promises to be a good 'un; a special Bentley Little issue with two new stories. Kudos to Richard, Brian, and Mindy at CD Publications for another hit run with issue #63 and, of course, their successful release of the much-heralded Blockade Billy by Stephen King. I'm looking forward to more excellent releases... let's say, maybe, uh... Hell Hollow, by a certain author of Southern-fried horror. Ya know what I mean?

Ron's Six-Pack!

2010-04-28T19:15:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not talking about my rock-hard abs (uh, they are rock-hard... somewhere underneath this flab!). I'm referring to the new Ronald Kelly Digital Six-Pack, which is being offered for a limited time through Crossroad Press.

The Six-Pack features all six of my Macabre Ink digital publications in one tidy bundle. It includes Flesh Welder, the MP3 audio version of Flesh Welder, Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear-Forged Fables, The Sick Stuff, Dark Dixie: Tales of Southern Horror, and my newest release, my full-length western novel Timber Gray. A whole library of Southern-fried storytelling for your computer or Amazon Kindle for a low price of $20. That's right only twenty bucks! (Dang, I'm starting to sound like one of those annoying infomerical dudes on late night TV!)

Anyway, you can head on over and order your RK 6-Pack here:

http://crossroadpress.com/2010/04/ronald-kelly-digital-six-pack-20/

And the six titles Macabre Ink has put out so far are only the tip of the proverbial iceburg. This summer I'll be releasing four more digital story collections and, later in the year, my first full-fledged mystery novel, Dead Old Men, featuring farmer-turned-private eye, Jimmy Jack Dixon. So hopefully this Six-Pack will whet your appetite for what's to come!

My First Western Novel, TIMBER GRAY, Now Available in Digital!

2010-04-25T11:42:00.000-07:00

I’m pleased to announce that my first honest-to-goodness western novel, TIMBER GRAY, is now available from Crossroad Press in digital format. This full-length novel is not horror, but a traditional western, although it is gritty and violent with a dark twist to it. Here’s a short preview of what the book is about:

After his family is killed by a pack of rabid wolves, Jefferson Gray survives the horrid disease himself, with the aid of a Cherokee medicine man. But, unfortunately, he can not banish the hatred that dwells within him. An animosity toward dangerous game, particularly timber wolves.

Fifteen years have passed. Timber Gray is known throughout the western territories as a seasoned tracker and hunter: a man who can conquer any threat for the right price, be it grizzly, mountain lion, or, his specialty, wolves. But can Timber tackle his greatest challenge… a pack of fifty wolves led by the legendary Cripplefoot? Such insurmountable odds, combined with an approaching blizzard and a band of renegade bounty hunters, would seem to be certain death to most men. But, to Timber Gray, it is only another reason for staying alive…

You can order your copy of TIMBER GRAY now at:

http://crossroadpress.com/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=58&osCsid=9p4una2iqps0j805rvp53r5id2

This novel was a labor of love for Ol’ Ron, since I’m a big western fan myself and originally wanted to be a western writer. I put alot of time and research into making this book as gritty and authentic as possible (even looking up old maps from the late 1800’s to find actual locations, as well as trails and little towns that no longer exist on today’s maps). And take a gander at the grisly, blood-splattered cover Zach McCain worked up for the book!

So saddle up, load your ol’ Winchester, and head out to the blizzard-swept territory of Wyoming’s Big Horn Mountains with Timber Gray! Yeee-Hah!

Reading, Writing, & Disrespect: The Decline of Southern Values in Today's Public Schools

2010-04-24T05:41:00.000-07:00

A week or so ago, I read the sad story of Phoebe Prince, a teenager who recently moved from Ireland to western Massachusetts and was viciously harrassed by classmates -- both face-to-face and over the internet -- to the point where all of the girl's self-esteem and coping mechanisms were torn asunder. After one particularly brutal attack (in which she was called an "Irish whore" by one of the school's popular prom queen-types) she went home and hung herself from an upstairs banister. Her body was discovered by her younger sister.

Looking at the photo of Phoebe Prince, I saw a beautiful teen-aged girl with everything to live for. I also saw a reflection of my own daughter in her face. And that scares the hell out of me.

My daughter, Reilly, is an amazing young lady. A beautiful twelve-year-old with a genuinely good heart who faithfully loves her family, friends, and her God. She possesses a beautiful singing voice, plays the piano, and loves music. She writes the most amazing stories and is a wonderful artist with much potential. Reilly has won numerous 4-H contests over the last couple of years and won first place in DARE's essay contest last spring. Of all the people on this earth, Reilly is the most like me than anyone else.

But Reilly has problems. She has undergone therapy for abuse (at the hands of a relative, which we had no idea was taking place) and has had her own battle for sustaining her self-esteem. Reilly has a problem with high cholesteral and her vision (both hereditary, from my side of the family unfortunately). And she has a weight problem. In my opinion, she isn't overweight at all; just as we Southerns call it, a bit "big-boned". Let's just say that she isn't the same as 95% of the other girls in her sixth grade class; anorexic scarecrows who have a warped idea of what makes a girl popular and what doesn't.

During this school year, Reilly has had a bad problem with bullying; some dealing with her unique personality (she is NOT a carbon copy of the other girls in her class), but most having to do with her weight. Surprisingly enough, most of the verbal abuse she recieves is not from the girls, but from the boys in her class. These insults are made openingly in front of both classmates and teachers. And it is not just one or two boys, but quite a few. Despite the concerns of me and my wife, the school faculty -- both teachers and principal -- seem to think it is really nothing to worry about. "Boys will be boys," they tell us.

Well, sorry, but I'm not buying that. When I grew up in middle Tennessee in the mid-sixties, yes, boys were boys, but there was one line they did not cross (unless they were the typical school-yard bully) and that was disrespecting someone of the opposite sex. In that day, folks taught their young men that a woman (or a young girl their own age) was someone to be respected and cherished. I, too, was taught that lasting lesson and I carry it on to this day.
If I had insulted or bullied a girl when I was in the sixth or seventh grade, I would have been dealt with severely, first in the school system, then later on at home. And that lesson of respect would have finally been set firmly in place, never to be forgotten again.

But apparently such lessons of restraint and respect are no longer being taught here in the South, if my daughter's male classmates are any indication. They constantly comment on her weight or question her intelligence. Recently, one particular boy called her "Fat Albert". Reilly reacted rather strongly to this insult (after silently enduring similar jibs) and took the matter to her gym teacher. This teacher made the offender write a letter of apology to my daughter, which he begrudingly did. Did it cure him of his disrepectful behavior? On the contrary. The very next day he called her a "fat-ass" and a "bitch". Several of the teachers have told Reilly that she should "toughen up" and not let such silly talk bother her so much.

Have we enforced equality between sexes to such a point where young men believe it socially acceptable to belittle and bully young women to the point of totally tearing down their sense of self-worth? After all, the age of twelve is a very impressionable age for a girl. If every boy in her class treats her like crap, then why would she think of herself as otherwise? If you call a young lady "whore" and "idiot" enough times, is there any wonder that they may follow that path later in life?

It's very apparent that the old ways of Southern respect and hospitality are sadly fading with the passage of time. When I was a child, I was taught to say "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am", to always see a fellow classmate as an equal, despite their race, religion, or the type clothing they wore, and to say grace at each meal. I see very little of those time-worn traditions going on with today's youth. Teachers believe that respect and restraint should be taught in the home, while parents believe the teachers should maintain order and instill structure to their children's lives. In the thick of it all, neither is being done effectively and who suffers from the failure of the adults? The children, of course.

Take it from me, this is not a big urban school that I speak of, but a small country school with little more than two hundred students. It is now the end of the school year. If this bullying should continue next year with nothing done to put an end to it, I will have no course to pursue other than taking it to the school board. I could have very well mentioned the name of the school in this blog, as well as the principal and teachers involved, but everyone knows that I'm not that sort of person. But a Southern gentleman can only be pushed so far when the physical and mental welfare of his children are concerned. And I will protect my children... even if it means taking the matter to the state school board... or beyond.

To you parents and teachers out there, we must look at the terrible case of Phoebe Prince very closely and take it to heart. Because, unless respect and restraint is instilled in our own children, it will happen again. And again.

FLESH WELDER Audio... Ready for your MP3!

2010-04-07T12:15:00.000-07:00

The full-length audiobook of my tale of post-apocalyptic horror, FLESH WELDER, is now available for download to your MP3 through Spring Brook Audio.

This rarely-heard audio version of FLESH WELDER is the original 42 minute recording that was commissioned by Croatoan Publishing around the time of the FW chapbook's publication in 2007. Due to Croatoan's unfortunate demise, this excellent audio was never released to the public... until now. This audio -- using the original wav high-definition files -- is being released by Macabre Ink through Spring Brook Audio's online audiobook site. Later, we're hoping for a wider range of distribution points and there is even talk of its release on CD. This audio recording of FLESH WELDER is narrated by master voice talent Wayne June and includes some incredible sound effects.

You can hop on over and order your download of FLESH WELDER now at:

http://springbrookaudio.com/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=36

Hopefully, in the near future, other Ron Kelly stories and collections will be offered in similar audio versions through Spring Brook Audio. Stay tuned for more details!

FEAR COUNTY Movie Poster

2010-04-04T03:39:00.000-07:00

Before you get all excited, this isn't an actual studio-commissioned movie poster and, no, we haven't actually sold the film adaptation of my novel FEAR just yet. But there is a real potential for it to happen eventually.

Los Angeles screenwriter Aaron Guzzo is using the poster as a "teaser" to help garner interest in his FEAR COUNTY screenplay, based on my epic horror novel , which was released by Zebra Books in 1994. Aaron is a graduate of Columbia College based in Chicago; an institute specializing in media, communications, and the performing arts. His recent projects include the production of H.P. Lovecraft's Dreams in the Witch House at Wildclaw Theatre in Chicago. Aaron read FEAR at an early age and said that the story stuck with him throughout the years, inspiring him to do the screenplay and, eventually, bring it to horror fans in the form of a motion picture or TV production.

Aaron's screenplay is basically the same story as FEAR, focusing on the main characters of Jeb, Sam, Roscoe, and the Granny Woman, as well as the Snake Queen and her band of evil snake-dogs. We have made a few minor changes, though. The story will be set in modern times, rather than in the mid-1940's, due to the high production cost of doing period pieces (vintage cars, costumes, etc.). Also, an ancient brick wall will surround Fear County, explaining why its evil hasn't crossed its borders before (see the poster above).

Aaron's been out and about, pitching the screenplay to movie production companies for over a year now. There has been definite interest, but no concrete takers just yet. "Right now the biggest problem I'm having with placing Fear County is that production companies aren't sure whether this is kids horror, like Poltergeist or Arachnophobia, or if this is really twisted horror," Aaron explains. "That's mainly because the first 80 pages of the script is fun horror, while the last 30 get really intense." He has assured me that selling the FC script is " definitely not a matter of if, but when."

Of course, I'm not sitting here on pins and needles, worried about whether it will actually happen or not. We all know how fickled the movie business is these days with 3-D and needless remakes reigning the box office. And dozens of horror authors a whole lot better than ol' Ron have had their properties optioned and never seen them come to fruitation. But it would be cool to see FEAR COUNTY playing at your local theatre, wouldn't it? If anyone can pull it off, I believe Aaron can. His vision is very similar to mine: to offer the most terrifying, exciting, and heartfelt horror possible. Also like myself, he believes that "the characters should come first and the action will follow."

Keep your fingers crossed, folks. If FEAR COUNTY makes it into the production stages, it's possible that more Kelly books could follow. Aaron has read -- and loved -- both HELL HOLLOW and BLOOD KIN, which he calls "Salems Lot: The Southern Edition." Maybe what the movie industry needs right about now is a good shot of Southern-Fried horror. If so, our next mission would be to have Hollywood caterers feature gravy and biscuits, sweet tea, and pecan pie on their menus.

Hey, I can dream, can't I?

Inventory of Fears: Fuel for the Horror-Writing Mind

2010-03-25T11:51:00.000-07:00

For the past couple of months, I've been working on a project with Cemetery Dance Publications; writing personalized horror stories for folks who want to see themselves as the main character. This involves taking them, their families, and their every day lives, and pretty much placing them within the worse nightmare imaginable... implementing their own fears and phobias. This has been a challenging project to say the least, since I have always had to depend on my own personal list of fears and horrors to use as fodder for my tales of Southern horror. Going beyond my comfort zone -- writing-wise -- and using the terrors of actual living and breathing people (versus purely fictional characters) has been an eye-opening exercise, but one I wouldn't have missed for the world.

Lately, I've been thinking about my own fears and phobias. Sometimes they bob to the surface -- like a bloated body from the bottom of a deep lake -- within my fiction. Other times they remain buried, waiting patiently for their turn on the page. Today I sat down and jotted down a list of my worse fears, just to see how many I had. As it turned out, I ended up having more than I first thought. Here they are, in no particular order....

1.. Fear of Snakes: This is a common enough fear; alot of folks suffer from it. But I loathe the things. It doesn't matter if they're poisonous or harmless, alive or dead... they completely freak me out. Part of my snake phobia originates from some of my Grandmama Spicer's snake tales, told to me at an early age. Tales of eighteen foot rattlers that reared up out of the mud of a logging road like a cobra, of multi-colored serpents slithering along the rafters over head before dropping upon unsuspecting sleepers, and that goosebump-raising tale about the girl who drank from a stream and ending up housing a snake within her body into adulthood (which Grandmama claimed to be a true medical case). I later turned that tall-tale into story called "Miss Abigail's Delicate Condition". My grandfather, Pappy Spicer, seemed to be constantly vexed by snakes during his long life, having been bitten several times by copperheads. One time he was taking his morning constitutional in the outhouse when a chicken snake fell off the rafters and landed slap-dab in his lap. That's enough to scare the crap out of anyone!

2. Fear of Heights: I've always had an extremely bad case of vertigo. I can't go three steps up a ladder without getting the shakes. And I have trouble looking over the edge of a cliff or bluff, even if there's a fence or barrier there to prevent me from plunging to my death. I attribute this phobia to an incident that happened in the 5th grade. Me and another classmate had climbed to the very top of the jungle gym, when the school bully prevented us from climbing down, chucking rocks at us, nearly causing us to fall several times, until the recess bell rang. Since that day, I can't stand to be away from solid ground, especially if my footing isn't 100% rock steady.

3. Fear of Burns: I am mortified of being burned. Whenever my children get too close to a stove eye, a clothes iron, or a pot of boiling water, I nearly get hysterical. This phobia also has it's roots in my past. When I was two and half, I was visting my aunt's house. I was playing, while my aunt and mother sat in the kitchen and drank coffee. On the stove sat one of those big ol' silver coffee perculators. Carelessly, the electrical cord was stretched across the kitchen doorway and plugged into an outlet on the opposite wall. I was dancing around and singing a song about a choo-choo train and, when it came to the part about blowing the whistle, I reckon I just had to grab something and give it a yank. And you guessed it... the thing I yanked was that power cord. That perculator -- full of hot coffee -- came crashing down on top of me. It missed my head by inches, but scalded my left arm. I don't know what degree burn it was, but it required skin grafts to repair the damage. That horrifying episode fortified my fear of hot things (although my scarred arm did help teach me the difference between right and left at an early age.) It also played a big part in my writing of "Dead Skin".

4. Fear of Spiders: I've always had a phobia of spiders. Like snakes, they don't have to be poisionous either. If they have eight legs, that's a good enough reason to avoid them. Down here in Tennessee, brown recluse spiders are common (or fiddlebacks, as we call them) and there's even a jumping spider that lurks in the woods that will literally chase after you if you don't put some spark in your step. I remember when I was little, me and my brother, Kevin, would play in the garage next to a wall that was half concrete block and half drywall. In between the two sections was a thick strip of tar paper. We liked to play in a particular spot and played there all summer long. Later on, my father tore the tar paper loose and, underneath, was a nest of black widow spiders. They had been lurking there all along, directly over our heads! My spider stories include "The Web of La Sanguinaire" and "Housewarming". (By the way, take a look at that hungry little gal below. Doesn't that give you the creeps just looking at it?)

5. Fear of unfamiliar places: I've always had a bad feeling about places I've never been before, especially while traveling. Whenever we get off an interstate exit, there's a sense of potential danger at being at a place in time where there's no one but complete strangers around. It's not so bad at exits where there are a dozen fast food joints and hotels, but at the exits where there might be a single gas station or a country store (if you're lucky) the atmosphere seems downright threatening. I remember when I was about seven, we took a road trip. We didn't take the interstate back then, but traveled the rural highways to take us from point A to point B. My father stopped at this little country Texaco station and was short-changed by the station attendant. When he went back inside to confront the man -- a lanky, grease monkey of a redneck -- the mechanic started cussing and bullying him. I mean this fella was downright mean, yelling and waving his arms. I remember cowering in the back seat, thinking "He could kill Daddy! He could kill us all and repaint our car and sell it and nobody would ever know what happened to us!" I still think about that unnerving pitstop when I'm traveling with my family. My story "Exit 85" sort of sums up my fears of stopping at places where folks don't want you around... or do, for all the wrong reasons.

6. Fear of Clowns: My fear of clowns isn't as intense as it once was. I guess that's something that has diminished with age. When I was a kid, though, about the only clown who didn't make me want to pee my pants was Bozo. Since the horror genre has capitalized quite a bit on the evil or killer clown, it's apparent that a whole lot of people possess this phobia. Clowns are just plain creepy. Don't forget, Pennywise was a clown. So was John Wayne Gacy. And remember Jimmy Stewart in The Greatest Show on Earth? The movie where he played a fugitive in floppy shoes, who never takes his makeup off, even between shows? That's what freaks me out. Anyone could be hiding behind the grease paint and red rubber nose. It could be a good, decent guy... or it could be a child molesting cannibal. How could you ever tell... until it was too late?

7. Fear of folks who are missing part of their body: Yeah, I know... awful ain't it? I mean, I have nothing against people who were unfortunate enough to lose an arm or a leg or other appendage for one reason or another, but I still have this irrational fear of being around them. Maybe it's just the awkwardness of being in their presence and wondering what happened to them. You just can't go up to them and flat-out ask them what happened to their missing part. Oh, there are some who will tell you way more than you want to know... about how they slipped and fell into a buzzsaw and sliced off their arm, clean as a whistle. Others don't want to discuss it at all... perhaps for a good reason. I've worked in enough factories during my lifetime to come across three or four folks with missing hands or fingers. One thing about machines... right when you think they'll do one thing, they'll call you a bald-faced liar and do just the opposite. And sometimes that involves maiming and mangling. One of the fears of a woman I just wrote a story for was a fear of prosthetic devices. She was a nurse and one night in the ER she came across a patient with a prosthetic face. He had lost most of his real face to a flesh-eating fungus and was forced to wear a fake face to cover it up. When I read this on her questionaire, the image of the man with the prosthetic face took command and totally motivated the plot... which turned out to be one of the creepiest stories I've ever written, in my opinion.

So, for a horror writer, I reckon a good long list of fears and phobias might be a big plus. I know I put mine to good use. Of course, my list lengthens every now and then... especially when I watch the evening news. I'm always amazed -- and mortified -- at the amount of cruelty and evil some folks can dish out to their fellow man, and they can be mighty creative at it. As long as they shock society with their sick shenanigans, we writers of dark fiction will never be at a loss of something horrifying to write about.

Promising News on the Digital Front

2010-03-04T12:04:00.000-08:00

It's scarcely been a month since I partnered with Macabre Ink to bring my tales of Southern horror to digital-buying readers. So, needless to say, I was a little surprised when I was visiting the Horror Mall site yesterday and came across the following list:

HORROR MALL

Digital Bestsellers

February 2010

1. CAGE OF BONES & OTHER DEADLY OBSESSIONS by John Everson

2. CUMBERLAND FURNACE & OTHER FEAR-FORGED FABLES by Ronald Kelly

3. DOWN TO SLEEP by Greg F. Gifune

4. HACKS by Brian Knight

5. FLESH WELDER by Ronald Kelly

6. THE STRANGER by Ronald Malfi

7. HEART OF THE MONSTER by Brian Knight

8. HERO by Wrath James White & J. F. Gonzalez

9. THE BLEEDING SEASON by Greg F. Gifune

10. THE HAUNTING OF SAM CABOT by Mark Edward Hall

I have to admit, I was a bit uncertain about going digital when the opportunity first presented itself, but now those fears seem to be a thing of the past. My sales at Amazon Kindle seem to be steady, too, and I've recieved email from several new fans who would have probably never gotten the chance to read my work, if I hadn't made it available to them in digital format. So... absolutely no regrets here, folks. Not only have I found a new place to sell my Southern-fried wares, but I'm opening up to a whole new readership that I never knew was out there.

Maybe those little hand-held, pocket libraries weren't a goofy idea after all. To tell the truth, I've kinda got a hankering for one myself...

Wolves of a Different Color: Chaney vs del Toro

2010-02-25T05:26:00.000-08:00

The Wolfman of my youth:

Lon Chaney Jr. as Lawrence Talbot

When I was growing up, I had two favorite Universal monsters. The first was the Creature of the Black Lagoon. The second was the Wolfman. So when I heard that Universal was putting out the remake of THE WOLFMAN, I was filled with both excitement and trepidation. After all, to take such a time-tested horror classic and remake it using modern special effects (namely CGI), as well as the expanded freedom of an R rating, could either be a huge positive or negative, depending on how well such resources were used.

My doubts grew even more when the film reviews were mostly bad and the posts on the horror message boards on the internet gave less than glowing endorsements of the new film. I almost decided not to go see it... to just wait until the DVD was released and watch it then. But since my oldest daughter had been wanting to see it, I decided that we would take in a matinee showing last Sunday. And I'm glad we did. It just goes to show that you shouldn't put much stock in other folks opinions. It's better to see it for yourself and make up your own mind on whether it's good or bad.

Benico del Toro as The Wolfman

The new version of THE WOLFMAN was a welcome surprise. It was a rip-roaring period piece, set in England of the late 1800's, with lavish sets and creepy nocturnal landscapes. The movie used many of the same characters from the original 1941 film -- Lawrence Talbot, Sir John, Gwen Conliffe,and the gypsy woman, Maleva -- but their motivations in the storyline were changed somewhat for the new film. Also two new characters, Scotland Yard detective Francis Alberline and Sir John's Indian servant, Singh, were added. Other differences from the earlier Wolfman was Talbot's occupation as a Shakespearean actor, Talbot's torturous time in a London asylum (and his horrifying transformation in a medical gallery in front of dozens of physicians) and his final confrontation with Sir John toward the end of the film.

The 2010 film was extremely gory, with much beheadings, dismemberments, and disembowelments; something I personally believe could have been toned down a bit. Much criticism has been leveled toward the amount of computer generated imagery that was used in this movie, but it didn't seem to take away from the flow of the film, in my opinion. There was a CGI bear and deer that seemed somewhat lame, which caused me to wonder why they couldn't have used real animals in these two brief scenes. It seems that today's movie directors would rather cut costs by using as much CGI as possible during the course of a film, rather than go the extra mile and go for the realism that non-CGI effects would provide.

So how did the performance of del Toro differ from that of Chaney Jr.? Both actors conveyed the angst of being cursed with lycanthropy, but I would have to prefer Chaney's Lawrence Talbot over del Toro's. I reckon I've grown up with Chaney's torturous fear and torment, not only in the original WOLFMAN, but in the movies that followed (FRANKENSTEIN MEETS THE WOLFMAN, HOUSE OF FRANKENSTEIN, HOUSE OF DRACULA, and even ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEETS FRANKENSTEIN). One thing that is similar about both Chaney and del Toro is their physical attributes. Neither one are overly handsome men and their facial features seem to perfectly convey the agony a human might suffer if inflicted with a monsterous curse.

One thing I always yearned for when I was a kid was to see more of the Wolfman, which only appeared two or three times during the course of a film. The Wolfman's appearance was plentiful in the 2010 version. But whereas Chaney's werewolf attacked one victim at a time, del Toro's was a whirling-dervish of bloody destruction, slaughtering multiple victims at a time.

So which movie do I prefer? I'd still have to go with the original 1941 version of THE WOLFMAN. Yes, it was much more restrained than the remake, but, in my opinion, it was the actors and actresses of the early film that made it number one in my book. Lon Chaney Jr., Claude Raines, Bela Lugosi, and Maria Ouspenskaya... all were excellent in their characterizations and set the stage for the moody black & white film that has become a staple of monster movie watching for decades. Also the old version is a safe introduction to the Wolfman for children to watch. Given the amount of violence and gore in the new version, I wouldn't let a child under the age of twelve experience it until they were old enough to handle it.

So, although I thoroughly enjoyed the new version of THE WOLFMAN, I still think Chaney's version wins, hands-down. As Lon Chaney Jr. liked to say "The Wolfman was my baby." And I think that's still true. He infused a humanity in the character of Lawrence Talbot that lives on. Whether del Toro's Talbot will live on in the minds of moviegoers, only time will tell.

Yet Another Digital Release... DARK DIXIE: TALES OF SOUTHERN HORROR

2010-02-20T03:44:00.000-08:00

By now you're probably saying "Ron's gone e-book crazy!" Well, in a way I have. This new venue for offering Southern-fried Horror to the reading public has really won me over after a long, stubborn streak of thumbing my nose at digital books. Well, like the Monkees used to sing... I'm a believer.

This fourth release from Macabre Ink Digital is the e-book version of my Grammy-nominated audio collection, DARK DIXIE: TALES OF SOUTHERN HORROR, originally released by Spine-Tingling Press way back in 1992. This new version includes the five original stories -- Yea, Though I Drive, Miss Abigail's Delicate Condition, The Cistern, Papa's Exile, and Black Harvest -- along with three others, The Hatchling, Uncle Cyrus, and Forever Angels. Incidently, this will be the first time Uncle Cyrus has been available to horror readers since it was first published in Noctulpa: Journal of Horror back in 1988. Also Zach McCain has crafted a brand-new cover for the collection. Given that one of my more popular stories, Miss Abigail's Delicate Condition, appears in this book, you should have know there would be some creepy ol' snakes on the cover.

You can order DARK DIXIE: TALES OF SOUTHERN HORROR now from Macabre Ink -- http://macabreink.com/macabreinkpublishing -- along with my other digital books CUMBERLAND FURNACE & OTHER FEAR-FORGED FABLES, FLESH WELDER, and THE SICK STUFF. It'll also be available through the Amazon Kindle store and Horror Mall in a day or two.

Around June or July of this year, Macabre Ink will be offering four more of my digital books, including TWILIGHT HANKERINGS (tales of vampires, werewolves, and other things that go bite in the night), UNHINGED (tales of mass murderers, serial killers, and just plain nasty folks), TWISTED LIBIDO (tales of love and desire gone horribly wrong) and Volume Two of DARK DIXIE, with even more tales of Southern horror.

And while you're over at Macabre Ink check out excellent offerings by David Niall Wilson and Steve and Melanie Tem. Like I've said before, don't worry... I haven't abandoned real, hands-on books. That's my bread and butter... or gravy and biscuits if your're from the South. I'm just taking advantage of other mediums to further the cause of Southern-fried Horror and digital publishing seems to be an exciting new frontier to explore.

THE SICK STUFF... Now Available from Macabre Ink Digital!

2010-02-17T03:04:00.000-08:00

The digital version of my collection of extreme horror tales, THE SICK STUFF, is now available for purchase from Macabre Ink Digital. To order yours head on over to http://macabreink.com/macabreinkpublishing.

THE SICK STUFF is availble in PDF, Kindle, E-Pub, and PRC formats. It contains the original seven stories included in the 2009 Thunderstorm edition, an introduction by James Newman, and an afterword by yours truly. And take a gander at the new cover Zach McCain cooked up. Enough to make you squirm, ain't it?

Southern-Fried Horror... Now in Digital Format!

2010-02-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know... I said I'd never do it. You know Ol' Ron... old school, set in his ways, an old dog much too ornery to learn new tricks. Well, things have changed. Hey, a horror writer has a right to change his mind every now and then, doesn't he?

I'm pleased to announce that, thanks fo David Niall Wilson and his Macabre Ink Digital, much of my short fiction will now be available in digital book format, both for your home computer and Kindle, if you happen to own one of those new-fangled devices. So far, we have two releases to offer you folks:

Cumberland Furnace & Other Fear Forged Fables

This seven story collection of newer short stories (from my 2006 comeback to now) features such tales as Cumberland Furnace, Grandma's Favorite Recipe, The Thing at the Side of the Road, The Final Feature, Mister Mack & the Monster Mobile, The Peddler's Journey, and Tanglewood. It features an incredible cover (see above) by Zach McCain.

Flesh Welder

The sold-out 2007 chapbook by Croatoan Publishing is now available in digital format. This contains the original story, the original Zach McCain cover, and Mark Hickerson's exclusive interview "Not Just Whistling Dixie"... which, in my opinion, is the best and most complete interview I've done since returning to the horror genre.

You can order both Cumberland Furnace and Flesh Welder directly from Macabre Ink at http://macabreink.com/macabreinkpublishing . You can also get them at the Amazon Kindle store, the Horror Mall, or Horror Drive Thru.

In the coming weeks, we will be releasing more digital books, including the extreme horror collection, The Sick Stuff, and the digital version of the Grammy nominated Dark Dixie: Tales of Southern Horror. Also in the works are more collections of my short fiction, both previously-published and unpublished. Keep an eye open here at Southern-Fried & Horrorfied for further details.

Just so you know... I haven't gone and given up on real, hands-on books. I just figured this would give a broader audience easier access to my work, at a much faster pace than regular publishing venues can manage. I'm still looking forward to seeing shelves of my books in print during the next few years. But this latest venture into the world of digital publishing will, hopefully, satisfy the needs of my fans, as well as net me a few more in the process.

Back In The Saddle Again... with a Word from Publisher X

2010-02-03T06:51:00.000-08:00

As you probably know, I haven't blogged for awhile. Alot of it had to do with the holidays. Some had to do with sickness (both the kids and myself suffered a nasty stomach virus). And then there were a couple of big snows down here in my neck of the woods in Tennessee.

A big part of my inactivity on Southern-Fried & Horrified during the past couple of weeks was mostly due to the meltdown of Full Moon Press at the end of January. Considering that I had twelve projects in the works with FMP, their sudden collapse meant that more than half of my upcoming publications were suddenly left homeless. Much of my time since FMP's demise has been devoted to damage control; assuring my fans that all was not lost and trying to find a home for those derailed projects.

Although I haven't yet found a home for my Southern horror anthology, Somewhere South of Hell, I have found a new publisher for the Essential Ronald Kelly Collection, which will offer all eight Zebra novels (plus a previously unpublished sequel to Hindsight). Who is this mystery publisher, you might ask? Well, unfortunately, I can't reveal that fact just yet. In the small press, timing and discretion can be a big plus in the success of an upcoming publication. It also has to do with "doing the right thing" when other authors with unannounced projects are involved.

But I do want to share a statement that "Publisher X" has issued to explain a few things. Here it is:

"Dear Ronald Kelly Fans,

Although I am going to remain nameless for now, Ron and I have begun talking about publishing the entire collection of Essential novels. Rest assured these are in good hands and if everyone can be patient while the details are worked out and the tremendous amount of work that is required has begun, it would be greatly appreciated. I know many of you are curious to not only know who will be publishing the Essentials, but how and when as well. The primary reason this is going to remain confidential for now is that I have numerous other projects lined up to be published before starting on the Essentials and it is only fair to the authors and fans of these other works to have each of those official announcements be released to the public beforehand. Plus, as a nice change of pace, the Kelly books will ship soon after their announcement.

Publisher X"

So, as you can see, things aren't as grim and gloomy as they could have been, given the circumstances. Publisher X and I have some great plans for the Essential collection. Sure there is alot of hard work involved, but I think the eventual outcome will be well worth it.

As for my thoughts and reflections on the disasterous Full Moon Press incident, I'll be exploring it in a future blog, so keep an eye open for it.

Right now, I'm just glad to be back in the saddle again... both with blogging and peparing my work for publication. And, of course, a huge thanks to all of you fans and fellow writers out there who have provided me with encouragement and support during the last few weeks. I truly appreciate your helping me through this chaotic and confusing time. Now it's back to business, as usual...

Universal Monster Legacy... just a click away!

2009-12-23T04:49:00.000-08:00

All my Rowdy Friends... at Universal Monster Legacy

As you know, I'm a monster junkie... especially if it involves those of the Universal Studios kind. Therefore, I was howling with delight when I came across the Universal Monster Legacy website that Universal has started in connection with the promotion of The Wolfman movie, due out in theatres on Feburary 12th of 2010.

There's alot for a monster-lover to enjoy on the Legacy site. A timeline covers every classic Universal monster movie made, from The Hunchback of Notre Dame with Lon Chaney Sr. to the third in the Gillman trilogy, The Creature Walks Among Us. When you click on each movie, it gives you a wealth of information, including a story synopsis, cast members, and rare stills, all accompanied by the soundtrack from the film. It'll make the twelve-year-old in you remember those late night creature features of your youth, when you were first introduced to Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, and the Wolfman.

The Wolfman prowls again... on February 12th!

You can access the site at http://www.thewolfmanmovie.com/legacy . You can also find out more about the remake of the new Wolfman movie, along with a very cool trailer. Check it out!

2009 & 2010: Publications Past and Things to Come

2009-12-12T05:53:00.000-08:00

With 2009 coming to an end and 2010 looming near, I thought I'd reflect on my publications during the past twelve months, as well as what I have in store for the coming year.

2009

Feburary brought Cemetery Dance's release of my first short story collection, Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors; 32 tales of Southern horror between two covers. It garnered great reviews and was even chosen as Kent Allard's Favorite Horror Book of 2009 on his Dead in the South blog. http://deadinthesouth.blogspot.com/

* * *

Around the same time, CD released the fifth addition of Richard Chizmar's Shivers anthology. Among tales by some of the best writers int he horror genre, was my story, "Cumberland Furnace", an old-fashioned ghost story based on a story my grandmother told me when I was a child.

* * *

The Sick Stuff from Thunderstorm Books arrived in April. The second in TSB's Elemental Series, this mini-collection of extreme horror tales that I penned back during those Splatterpunk days of the early nineties, boasted art by Zach McCain and an introduction by James Newman. Among the seven stomach-churning offerings were "Diary", "Housewarming", "Mojo Mama", and a favorite among my circle of friends, "The Abduction".

* * *

Autumn brought Harlan County Horrors, an anthology of rural Kentucky horror tales edited by Mari Adkins and published by Apex Books. This handsome volume contained my story "The Thing at the Side of the Road". It also showcased great tales by Maurice Broaddus, Alethea Kontis, Stephen Shrewsbury, and more.

* * *

Also this fall, Woodland Press released Appalachian Winter Hauntings. This collection of holiday horror tales set in the rustic setting of the Appalachian Mountains and edited by Michael Knost and Mark Justice (Pod of Horror) featured my ghost story, "The Peddler's Journey". The collection also contained stories by Elizabeth Massie, Scott Nicholson, Steve Vernon, and many more. You can read "The Peddler's Journey" for free -- my Christmas gift to you -- at http://www.ronaldkelly.com/sample.html .

* * *

2010

Well, as many of you may have guessed, my first novel in thirteen years, Hell Hollow, was not realeased in November as was anticipated. This was mainly due to Cemetery Dance's sincere push to catch up on their overdue backlog of titles and their new emphasis on bringing us Cemetery Dance Magazine in a more timely manner. So it looks like it will be early to mid 2010 before HH makes its appearance. This 500-page whopper of a book is embellished by a wonderful cover by premier horror artist, Alex McVey. You can preorder your copy from CD at http://www.cemeterydance.com/page/CDP/PROD/kelly01 .

* * *

Also at the printer is Issue #63 of Cemetery Dance Magazine; the special Halloween Issue. Of course, Halloween is past, but wouldn't be cool to settle down before a fire on a frigid winter night to a jam-packed issue of cool Halloween tales? This issue contains my story "Pelingrad's Pit" and an interview with me by Joan Turner.

* * *

Currently, I'm signing the signature sheets for CD's Halloween round-robin novella, The Crane House. This collective tale features such great authors as Brian Keene, Kealan Patrick Burke, James A. Moore, James Newman, Norman Prentiss, Brian Freeman, Ray Garton, Al Sarrantonio, Rick Hautala, Bev Vincent, and yours truly.

I'm also hard at work on the "You can be a Star" story promotion that CD has offered to their loyal customers. Using detailed questionaires, I am writing specialized short stories for twelve individuals, using them as the main characters and key points of their day-to-day lives (family, home, work, etc.) I'm also incorporating their worse nightmares and fears, which is making this particular job both challenging and incredibly satisfying as a writer of horror. As well, I'm exploring settings that I'm not normally accustomed to, with several stories set in places like Austrialia, Canada, Germany, and other locations around the globe.

* * *

Also on the horizon is volume #1 of Full Moon Press's Essential Ronald Collection, the hardcover edition of Undertaker's Moon. Yes, I know what you're all thinking. Is this really going to finally happen? Is this book for real or is it some sort of urban legend? Hopefully, after years of delays, UM will see be released sometime in 2010. This book will contain the original novel (formerly released by Zebra Books as Moon of the Werewolf) and include a bonus novella titled "The Spawn of Arget Bethir". It will also boast the infamous "blue werewolf" cover by Alex McVey.

Also in 2010, I will be starting a brand-new novel and working on a Signature Series book for Cemetery Dance, as well as working on more short stories for Cemetery Dance Magazines. So 2010 looks to be even more promising for my fans than 2009 was. Of course, a big thanks to all of you for your interest and support. It's what keeps a writer of horror full of fresh ideas and keeps meat and taters on his supper table. I promise bigger and better things from the Kelly workshop of terrors in the coming year. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Nifty, Nifty, Ron turns...

2009-11-20T02:48:00.000-08:00

That's right. This morning I turned the big 5-0. A half century of living on God's good earth.

Now I have many things on the horizon to enjoy that I never really thought about before. Mailings from AARP filling my mailbox. Invasive colon tests. 30% Off Day at Walkers-R-Us.

No, seriously... I don't feel like I'm fifty at all. Why would I? I've got a wonderful and supportive wife that I've been married to for nineteen years, three beautiful children who keep me on my toes and keep me young, and a second writing career that promises to be bigger and better than the first one.

So I'm planning on grinning like a rabid possum and enjoying today. I'll eat my tombstone birthday cake and read my "Over the Hill" cards and take it like a man. See ya!

Halloweens Past & Present, Good & Bad

2009-11-03T13:24:00.000-08:00

Well, another Halloween has passed and this one turned out to be a particularly fun and pleasant one. No ill-tempered young'uns, no costume malfunctions, no rushing off to someone's particular house across town to catch them before they turned off the porch light and stashed away the candy bowl. No, this October 31st turned out to be a pretty easy-going one and absolutely perfect weather-wise down here in Middle Tennessee. Cool, blustery, and with a big ol' full moon, to boot. You could almost hear the werewolves howling in delight.

The Kelly kids certainly seemed to have a good time. My oldest daughter, Reilly, dressed up as a purple-haired punk rocker, my five-year-old, Makenna, went as Hanna Montana (surprised?) and my nineteen-month-old son, Ryan, was decked out as Batman. Without the cowl, that is. Ryan's kind of funny about stuff on his face and head. He hates wearing caps and hats, so he certainly wasn't about to please dear old dad and wear his Batman mask. Funny... whenever the girls deck him out in a golden tiara (to my horror!) during playtime, he'll parade around the house wearing the thing for a good half hour. Better trade that dime-store crown for a John Deere cap, my boy... if only for your father's peace of mind.

One thing that made this year's trick-or-treating run smooth as silk is the spread of Trunk-or-Treat in the area. Several of the local churches did it last year. Folks would park in the church parking lot with their trunks open, full of treats and decorations. The kids ate it up (along with the candy) and the social interaction was fun for children and parents alike. This year Trunk-or-Treat went a step further. Several of the town merchants and churches decided to set up on the town square, some with their trunks open, some with booths. The volunteer fire department was even handing out drinks and hot dogs. And of course we visited family, as well.

All in all, a very pleasant and memorable Halloween for the entire Kelly clan.

* * * *

Of course, not all the Halloweens of my life have been as pleasant and brimming with good memories. One particular Halloween comes hauntingly to mind. One that still leaves an ugly shadow upon my yearly celebration, even across the lengthy span of 42 years.

When I was a kid, I grew up in a picturesque Southern town. It was nestled in a valley surrounded by wooded hills. Railroad tracks ran straight through this lovely hamlet. There were several churches, a grocery store, a post office, and a single elementary school (which, incidently, was located directly behind my back yard). Kids could ride their bikes from one end of town to the other without worrying about gangs or child molesters. And our Halloweens were the same; full of freedom and frights in the darkness, without our parents following us around in cars.

But my town wasn't a perfect town. Far from it. It possessed its share of bigotry and racial injustice. To the north stood a tall hill where all the black folks in town lived. It was known by all as N----r Hill (I'm sure you can fill in the blanks if you use a little imagination). The town dump was on that hill, along with tin and tarpaper shacks that no one should have been condemned to live in. But, unfortunately, it was merely a fact of life back then. My journeys to the town dump was always a sad sojourn, witnessing unfortunate poverty from within the safety of my father's two-toned '56 Chevy. Compounding my misery, was my father's constant barrage of comments and n----r jokes. I loved my father dearly and still do, but he was raised as many were in that era, with an aire of racial superiority and little tact to go with it. I can recall feeling a mixture of anger and sadness and fear, wondering if he would go to hell for his constant use (and abuse) of the N-word.

Thus the Halloween of my eighth year comes uncomfortably to mind. It was 1968 and it was a dark and dangerous time in my home town. During the April of that year, Martin Luther King had been assassinated at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis and, in turn, a people we had never seen as much of a threat now seemed to possess the potential to be so. I remember hearing my elders talk about how "uppity" the black folks were getting following the death of Doctor King and how something ugly was liable to happen, due to anger and bad feelings between the occupants of N-----gr Hill and the townfolks below. Animosity between races was building at a steady pace and it seemed like only a matter of time before hostile feelings got the better of reason, in both whites and blacks.

That Halloween night had a different feeling to it. There was a blanket of tension over the entire community, and particularly in the faces of my mother and father. My parents forbid us to stray beyond the stretch of our street, but wouldn't give us a concrete explanation why that restriction had been set. Still, we netted a bagful of Halloween candy by eight o'clock. As was customary, my brother, Kevin, and I would don our pajamas by eight-thirty and begin the task of seperating our treasure-trove of candy into seperate piles: bubble gum, suckers, candy bars, etc.

It was nearing nine o'clock, when the worse fears of my hometown almost came true... within our own house.

Someone knocked on our door and, being the trusting lady she was, my mother went to answer it. As I arranged my candy, I heard her say "What do you want?" and then, in growing alarm, "You can't come in here!" I turned and looked through the door that lay between the living room and the combination kitchen and den. There were six or seven tall young black men entering the house, silently, but deliberately. They said nothing at all. They simply walked in, carrying the smell of autumn woodsmoke and damp leaves with them. I recall my mother backing into the den, her face full of fear. There was a strange look in the eyes of those home invaders. I was too young to comprehend that expression at such an early age, but now I would indentify it instantly as a mixture of malice and lust.

Two of them were actually through the doorway and in the den, when my father's voice boomed from the end of the hallway near the bathroom. "What are you doing here?" That was when the invaders lost their resolve. They scrambled for the door, afraid that my father was about to shoot at them (which was impossible, since my mother forbid firearms in our home). I remember the last one -- a boy no more than fourteen or fifteen years of age -- turning and looking at me full in the face. There was as much fear in his eyes as there was in mine. They seemed to say "What the hell am I doing here?". But, before leaving, he couldn't resist grabbing up a handful of my very best candy; Babe Ruths, Butterfingers, and Tootsie Rolls. Then he was out in the darkness and running with the others.

I remember my mother sitting on the couch, her face pale with shock and fear, while my father stood in the yard ranting and raving. I also remember feeling anger at the theft of my candy bars. My brother, only four at the time, didn't seem to realize the potential danger we had been in that night.

Many Halloweens have passed since then and now I can look back at 1968 objectively, with neither anger or fear, but with understanding. At the age of eight, I knew nothing of the impact Martin Luther King had made upon the African-American community or the anger and loss they had experienced following his brutal killing. But at the age of fifty, I can understand what they might have felt that year, when a smirking white face may have looked hauntingly like James Earl Ray to them and stirred feelings they wouldn't have normally even considered or acted upon.

And, as for my stolen candy, I can't honestly begrudge that frightened teenager his clutching handful of Snickers and Bit-O-Honeys. I figure it may have been well-deserved, considering that he was restricted from trick-or-treating in my neck of the woods; barred from my picturesque Southern street by long-standing prejudice and underlying fear.

Yes, that was a long, long time ago. But when the clock strikes nine on Halloween night, I can't help but think about that knock on our door and the misguided retribution it might have brought.

* * * *

On a happier note, the winner of our HELLuva HOLLOWeen contest at RonaldKelly.com was Dave Roberts of Los Altos, California. Dave will soon receive the inscribed and remarqued hardcover of HELL HOLLOW, the softcover advance reading copy, and the signed Alex McVey print. Congratulations, Dave!

Hope y'all had a fun and plentiful Halloween!

A HELLuva HOLLOWeen Contest

2009-10-13T05:40:00.000-07:00

It's time for our annual Halloween contest over at Ronald Kelly.com. This year's theme is a HELLuva HOLLOWeen in celebration of the upcoming release of my upcoming novel, HELL HOLLOW, due out in November. One lucky winner will recieve the following items:

-- A copy of the limited hardcover edition of HELL HOLLOW from Cemetery Dance Publications. This whopper of a book (five hundred pages in all!) will be personally inscribed by me, and remarqued and signed by cover artist Alex McVey.

-- An original softcover HELL HOLLOW advanced reading copy. This will also be personally inscribed by myself and remarqued by Alex.

-- And last but not least, a signed print of the villian of HELL HOLLOW, Doctor Augustus Leech. This is not the cover painting, but Alex's full-face depiction of Leech in striking shades of black and crimson!

So head on over to http://ronaldkelly.com and register for a chance to win these three unique HELL HOLLOW-related items. The lucky winner will be drawn and notified on October 31st. Good luck to all and have a happy and safe Halloween!

A Big Thumb's Up From Publishers Weekly!

2009-09-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

This week, Publishers Weekly released a mighty nice review of my upcoming novel, Hell Hollow. This is what they had to say:

"Braiding together three distinct story lines --- a coming-of-age tale involving a quartet of adventurous kids, a woman's quest for vengeance against a maniacal hitchhiker, and the vigilante murder of a serial killer --- Kelly (Blood Kin) ingeniously blends unapologetically graphic horror, supernatural suspense, and poignant mystery. When 12-year-old Keith Bishop is sent from Atlanta to rural Tennessee for the summer, he stumbles across one of the area's darkest secrets: a haunted backwoods hollow where, back in 1917, a nomadic murderer allegedly "harvesting souls for Satan" was hunted down and killed. Somewhere in the shadowy, kudzu-covered grove, the madman's spirit remains alive, waiting for unholy retribution. Kelly's use of dichotomy, from the contrasting urban and rural settings to the generational dissimilarities between Keith and his 95-year-old grandfather, helps to accentuate the intensity and otherworldliness of evil in this well-crafted and wildly entertaining bloodcurdler."

If you haven't pre-ordered your copy, you can do it now at www.cemeterydance.com. Looks like orders through Amazon and other retail outlets might increase due to the PW review, so hook your copy while you can!

The Disney Dilemma: Which Side Are You On?

2009-09-13T03:35:00.000-07:00

Cherished Friends... or hated enemies?

Several weeks ago, three deaths occurred on Disney World property within a seventeen day period. One was a monorail driver who crashed into another parked monorail, one was a performer who fell from a show stage, and the third was a stuntman at the Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacular. Unfortunate tragedies, all of them.

I remember reading about the last death online at AOL. At the bottom of each article, there is a comment feature that allows the reader to voice their opinion on the subject. Normally there are only a dozen comments at the most. On this particular article there were 236. As I skimmed through the various comments I began to come to a perplexing conclusion. Alot of folks out there in cyberspace hate Disney. Not just dislkike, but downright hate the kingdom that Walt built. In the case of these particular comments, it came to about 80%. Twenty percent expressed their sadness and condolences over the death of the stuntman, while all the others cracked tasteless jokes or leveled blame and accusation at Disney officials, citing unfounded negligence on their part for all three deaths.

I've come across this Disney-hating phenomenon for years, on a smaller scale. It seems that folks either love Mickey Mouse and all he stands for, or they hate his guts. The degree of emotion the very mention of Disney seems to conjure is usually spelled out in distinctive shades of black or white... there never seems to be any gray area at all. While Walt Disney World remains the number one vacation destination in the country and Disney films are among the highest grossing in the business, there are still folks out there who harbor a deep-seeded resentment of the entertainment organization and its offerings.

Personally, I love Disney. Of course, it wasn't always that way for me. When I was a younger man, Disney-related stuff seemed childish to me and I had no interest in it whatsoever. But when I married, things changed. During the second year of our marriage, Joyce and I traveled to Disney World (on six hundred bucks, no less... can you imagine that?) and, since that point, I have been a lover and supporter of all things Disney; the theme parks, the movies, the music... everything. I've also become a great admirer of the late Walt Disney himself. Not only was he a champion of family entertainment, but his vision in many areas was way before his time. It was just unfortunate that he died before he could see many of his innovations come to life.

My love of Disney only seems to grow now that I have children and I see the joy that it brings them. Since 1992, we have been to Disney World six times (with a new trip planned for June of 2010) and the planning of each trip is full of excitement and wonder, like a trip to heaven on earth. The same goes for Disney movies. When a new one is released, the Kelly family rushes off to the local theatre to discover what magic the newest Disney flick has to offer.

Disney-Haters, on the other hand, live at the opposite end of the spectrum. They come in two varieties: the snide dismisser or the venomous antagonist. Some are satisfied with making crude jokes and comments and simply leaving it at that. Others whole-heartedly despise Disney and let it be known in no uncertain terms. All Disney-Haters seem to believe Disney is some evil corporate entity that is out to pull the wool over the eyes of the public; a modern-day Adolf Hitler in mouse ears, out to conquer the world with candy-coated cyanide pills. I have no idea where this idea originated, but it continues to be perpetuated with an animosity that borders fanaticism.

Oddly, there seem to be more male Disney-Haters than female. This is likely due to testosterone-fueled machismo. Alot of men would rather have bamboo slivers hammered beneath their fingernails than confess any allegiance to Disney. Many of these Disney-Haters consider it unmanly to express an interest in anything that is fantasy-related. Perhaps this is due to the fact that they refuse to let their guard down and enjoy anything other than the customary male interests and pasttimes (football, hunting, NASCAR, etc.). To love Disney is a sign of weakness in their eyes. But there is hope for the die-hard Disney-Hating Male. I've witnessed it firsthand during visits to the World. I've seen burly, bear-like men, obviously resentful of being dragged to the parks, grinning like happy six-year-olds after exiting rides like Space Mountain, the Haunted Mansion, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, or the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.

One stringent Disney-Hater has always been right-wing religion, or some particularly relentless factions of it. Disney boycotts have been orchestrated by organized religion groups, and myths and misinformation have been perpetuated by their leaders and followers; that all Disney films include subliminal messages of a subversive and sexual nature and even that Walt Disney himself was a pornographer before turning his talents to family fare. Much of the religious-right's animosity toward Disney has to do with the Disney corporation's obvious respect for their gay employees (their healthcare plan covers an employee's significant other... be they male or female) and an annual week-long gay and lesbian celebration at Disney World (actually this is not Disney-sponsered, but is a privately-sponsered event that encompasses all of Orlando.)

Another thing that strikes me is that Disney-Haters are also in the same league as Barney-Haters. The big purple dinosaur that everyone loves to make fun of and bash, has probably done more to prepare pre-kindergarten children for school than anyone else; instilling manners, good health practices, and respect for others, as well as teaching colors, shapes, numbers, and the alphabet. Sure, the big fella can grate on your nerves if played on the DVD player a dozen times in a row (like at my house!), but all in all, he is of great benefit to today's youngsters. Disney has the same effect -- promoting healthy imaginations -- on a more entertaining level. Most of the Disney/Barney-Haters are single people with no children, who are sadly ignorant of this benefit. But then I've also encountered family folks who steadfastly forbid their children excess to Disney or Barney, simply because of their own personal preferences or biases.

The best of both worlds!

One recent point of debate involves Disney's forthcoming purchase of Marvel Entertainment for a staggering sum of $4 billion dollars. Some see great benefit in this transaction, while others are only spouting gloom and doom. Being a lover of both Disney and Marvel, I see it as an incredible melding of two grand universes. Of course, Universal Studios (Disney's main theme park competitor) may see it much differently. What will become of their Marvel-themed rides and character showings at the Island of Adventures theme park? Will they be forced to do away with that section of the park entirely, or will they be required to pay Disney (what a blow to their ego that would be!) for the rights to keep their Marvel-oriented entertainment intact? In any event, you can be certain that Disney will take full advantage of its ownership of Spiderman, the Hulk, and Wolverine. Personally, I would love to see a fifth theme park pop up on the Disney World property, devoted entirely to the Marvel Universe. A farfetched idea? Perhaps not.

So, which camp do you belong to? Do you love Disney and its many magical offerings? Or do you feel as some do... that Disney is a wolf in mouse clothing; money-hungry corporate villians with less than Walt-like intentions? In any event, this is America, where everyone's opinion counts. You have the freedom and the right to embrace Mickey Mouse... or set a trap behind the refrigerator for him.

Editing and Proofreading Services are now available!

2009-09-01T02:40:00.000-07:00

To compensate for my unsteady employment (I returned to work after a five-month layoff only to find that I'm scarcely getting 30 hours a week) I am now offering my services as an editor and proofreader.

Since returning to the horror genre, I have helped several others with their manuscripts; doing full-line edits, proofreading, grammer correction, and providing honest and detailed critiques of their work, for a very reasonable fee. If you are an aspiring writer with a new novel that needs a little spit and polish to make the publishers sit up and take notice, or if you know an aspiring writer who might benefit from these services, you can contact me at ron@ronaldkelly.com. We'll get to work and fix you up with a book you can be proud to submit to your next publishing contact.

Mission Accomplished: Resident Evil 4 conquered...finally!

2009-08-29T05:55:00.000-07:00

As you may remember from a previous blog, I was hot and heavy into the Wii version of the video game, Resident Evil 4. Well, after many nights of traveling from one horrifying level to another, I finally finished RE4 a few nights ago.

I found that the further I got toward the final chapter of the game, the more difficult the levels became. I ended up taking a rollercoaster ride in a abandoned mine with murderous Ganados and chainsaw-slinging manaics hopping aboard my mine-cart for close-contact warfare, fighting two El Gigantes in one cramped arena, and navigating a hedge maze full of rabid parasitic wolves. And then there was a frantic journey through an abandoned laboratory facility where I had to conquer several "iron maidens", horrifying gray-fleshed mutants that released long spikes like porcupine quills when you came close to them. One of the most difficult levels I encountered had me battling a half-man, half-crab mutant in a hanging cage called "the playground". If you reached the end of the playground and swung to a nearby ledge, believing that the hanging cage and its inhabitant had fallen into a bottomless abyss... surprise, the next level has the further mutated man-crab chasing you mercilessly through a tunneled cave. This mutant was nearly impossible to defeat, but, after two dozen attempts, I finally took the monster down with a magnum pistol and a rocket launcher.

Finally I came to the ending scenes. I encountered the mercenary Krauser, discovered that he, too, possessed the parasite, but eventually defeated him before the entire battle arena exploded. Then came the grande finale. The head honcho, Saddler, changed into a hulking scorpion/spider monstrosity with eyeballs on the joints of its elbows and knees. The key to weakening this almost undefeatable abomination was shooting the eyeballs and then leaping upon Saddler's back and stabbing the main eyeball. At one point, when Saddler is weakened sufficiently, the mysterious Ada Wong appears and throws you down a rocket launcher to take the monster out. After that, Ada reveals that she has rigged the entire island with explosives and that you have under two minutes to escape. You grab the President's daughter, Ashley, hop aboard a jet ski and have to transverse a maze of hazards in an underwater cave before escaping to the open sea and freedom.

When I had finally reached the end of the last level, I checked the Wii player's log and found that I had spent a whopping 41 hours, 23 minutes, and 55 seconds on Resident Evil 4. Now I am considering tackling the game again on the professional level. But I think I'll give it a few months before I give it another go.

I did discover one thing about playing such a high-tension game. You almost become addicted to the adrenalin rush that it produces. And when the game is over, the desire to feel that rush almost sends you into pangs of withdrawal, like a junkie without a fix.

Again, if you are a horror fan and a video game player, I highly recommend this game. It combines both worlds into one exciting, action-packed experience. The story is first-rate and the graphics have to be seen to be believed. If you own a Playstation 2, X-Box, or Wii, I suggest you snag yourself a copy and give it a try.

Flesh Welder and The Sick Stuff Still Available!

2009-08-14T02:33:00.001-07:00

For those of you who missed out on acquiring copies of my chapbook, Flesh Welder, and my mini-collection of extreme horror tales, The Sick Stuff, I still have a few copies left of each available. Both of these publications sold out within two weeks of their release and are rare and hard to find.

For more details email me at ron@ronaldkelly.com and I'll be glad to fix you up with some signed copies.

Hell Hollow on the Horizon

2009-08-11T02:42:00.001-07:00

For the past couple of weeks, Cemetery Dance has been mailing out advanced reading copies of my new novel, HELL HOLLOW, to reviewers and members of their Early Readers Club. It looks pretty nice, with a full-color cover and all. And it contains all 498 pages of the original novel, so it's a whopper of a book.

HELL HOLLOW was one of two novels that was scheduled to be published when Zebra Books pulled the plug on their horror line back in 1996. It would have originally seen print in 1997, which means it has been in limbo for nearly twelve years. Now it will be available to readers in a classy, limited edition hardcover from Cemetery Dance Publications, along with a lettered limited with a few extra frills, like a beautiful full-color frontispiece by cover artist, Alex McVey.

The folks at CD have told me that HELL HOLLOW will probably be released in October or November of this year. October would be perfect for me, it being the month of Halloween and the fact that I will have a short story and interview in issue #63 (the Halloween issue) of Cemetery Dance Magazine.

Any way you cut it, I hope it gets here soon. It seems like I've been to hell and back (several times) waiting for HELL HOLLOW to reach the printed page. You can pre-order your copy now at http://www.cemeterydance.com/.

Resident Evil 4: Interactive Horror at its Best

2009-08-02T03:49:00.000-07:00

For a long time I thought video games were a big waste of time. Why sit in front of the TV set and spend hour upon hour developing game skills and strategies to attempt to play my way from one level to another, when I could be doing something constructive like writing or mowing the yard or trimming my toenails? I never thought I'd get sucked into the video game craze. Never.

Then along came Resident Evil 4.

A couple of months ago my family recieved a Wii game system from a good friend who happens to be in the video game store business. The Wii is quite an innovative invention, incorporating virtual-reality technology into the customary video game. You control movements and functions on the screen with the use of a controller (which resembles a regular remote control) and, with some games, a connecting "nunchuck" which adds a toggle motion switch and two additional function buttons to the controller. For games requiring a gun (such as combat or hunting games) a zapper can be used which combines the controller and nunchuck on a central frame, much like the frame of a crossbow.

While my wife and kids love games like Mariokart and Lego Batman, I found my video game obsession in Resident Evil 4, a game based on the popular series of that name and, in the opinion of most, the best of the lot. Resident Evil 4 combines intrigue and secret-agent type elements with horror. The storyline involves Leon Kennedy, a special agent for the US government, and his search for Ashley Graham, the teenaged daughter of the President. A mysterious cult in Europe has kidnapped Ashley and it is Leon's job to locate her and bring her back safely. The location of the game is simply described as "somewhere in Europe", but due to the fact that a Spanish theme and language is incorporated throughout, I would say that it is a safe bet that it takes place in Spain.

During his quest to rescue Ashley, Leon encounters all sorts of menaces and terrors, mostly the various villagers of the countryside. These villagers are known as Ganados (Spanish for "the herd") who were infected by a parasite known as "Las Plagas" which control the behavior of the host and turn them into a homicidal zombie. The Ganados usually go about their farm chores until Leon shows up and then they attack him brandishing knives, hatchets, sickles, and even dynamite. At one point. Leon comes upon a chainsaw-weilding maniac wearing suspenders and a potato sack over his head. The Ganados are relatively easy to kill with head and heart shots, but the chainsaw-slinger is nearly impossible to bring down. You must make multiple head shots and, if you don't dispatch him quickly, he will promptly dispatch you by beheading you in the most gruesome manner with a fatal swipe of his chainsaw.

Leon loses his head when meeting the Chainsaw Dude

Other creatures that you encounter along the way are Del Lago, a slug-like lake monster who snags the anchor of Leon's boat in one scene and must be destroyed by multiple throws of a wicked-looking harpoon, and El Gigante, a hulking giant that holds a strong resemblance to the cave trolls in Lord of the Rings. El Gigante is a tough cookie to bring down and you're usually trapped inside a fenced or rock-walled compound with him, dodging boulders he rolls or uprooted trees he swings. You can wear him down , however, with grenades and shots from a shotgun or rifle, until an ugly tentacled parasite emerges from his upper back and Leon can jump upon him and slash at the parasite until El Gigante falls dead. This takes alot of hard work and persistance, though, and El Gigante can kill you several times before you learn what it takes to get past this obstacle of the game. Also, when you defeat the zombies and monsters, they usually leave a glow eminating from their "death spot" that contains treasures like gold or ammunition for various weapons. When you kill El Gigante you are rewarded with a fortune in gold bars.

Leon faces the angry El Gigante!

There are some intriguing characters in the game who show up from time to time. One is Mendez, a towering bald village chief in a long overcoat, sporting a fake eye with a blood-red pupil. At one point, Leon must defeat Mendez when he changes into a horrifying mutant that is part scorpion/praying mantis and part human, which reminded me very much like something out of John Carpenter's The Thing. There is also the Merchant, a shady arms dealer who showes up to sell you pistols, rifles, shotguns, and rocket launchers. You can buy these items with gold you have accumilated during the game, or precious gems and jewelry you have come across. There are other characters I haven't encountered yet, like the beretted mercenary Jack Krauser and a mysterious operative in a slinky red dress named Ada Wong, both former acquaintances of Leon.

The Merchant is always a welcome sight... if you have the cash.

I am only halfway through the game now. I've rescued Ashley from imprisonment and am now in the castle, battling giant insects in the sewers and Los Illuminados, evil monks armed with medieval maces, shields, and crossbows firing blazing arrows. My good, friend Alex McVey, is a fan and player of RE 4 and has given me invaluable tips for getting out of some nearly impossible situations, like surviving the hoards of Ganados in the first village scene (run around, avoid getting killed until the church bell rings and all the zombies march inside and lock the door behind them. Then you have the deserted village to yourself and can pass through a locked door into the next level) or dodging the pickup truck careening down the one-lane path to the castle (shoot the driver through the windsheild using the sniper rifle from a distance and allow the truck to crash before proceeding. Then you'd better run like hell toward the drawbridge, cause there's a bunch of angry Ganados in the truckbed ready to do you harm).

When I'm playing Resident Evil, my wife and kids like to sit on the couch and watch it like a movie, cheering me on, chastisting me for screwing up and letting my guard down, or groaning at the more gruesome and gory death scenes. Concentrating on your game is tricky when you are enduring shouts of "You big dummy! You let El Gigante squash Ashley into jelly! (my wife) or "Yeeeeech! That chainsaw dude just cut your head off... again!" (my kids).

I don't want to say that I suffer from an obsession with this game, but I spent a good chunk of last Sunday afternoon trying to defeat a blind gladiator with a parasite growing out of his back and long metal claws that would put Wolverine to shame. When we checked the Wii player's log for the day, I discovered that I'd played for a whopping five hours and a half!

Leon, Ashley, and Ada surrounded by the dastardly Ganados!

If you have an X-Box or Wii, I strongly recommend Resident Evil 4. But a friendly warning -- it's best to tackle it with a steady aim, nerves of steel, and a strong stomach.... especially when giant grasshoppers peel the flesh from your face and your eyeball is dangling by its optic nerve (hmmm, sounds like my recent eye surgery). Resident Evil 5 is already out for X-Box, but the Wii version is yet to be released. In the meantime, I believe this version will keep me busy for quite a while.

Bits and Pieces

2009-07-21T02:30:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about some stuff lately...

Alot of Southern singers and musicians have died in air crashes over the years... Buddy Holly, Patsy Cline, Otis Redding, Ronnie Van Zant, Stevie Ray Vaughn... the list goes on and on. I always wondered if there were gremlins on board who hated Southern accents.

* * * *

I was named after Ronald Reagan. He was an actor back then, not the governor of California or the President. Little kids ask me if I was named after Ronald McDonald. The clown visited my daughter's school once and she told him that her father's name was Ronald, too. He said maybe we were distant cousins. I don't think so.

* * * *

Whatever happened to Val Kilmer?

* * * *

98% of Southeners HATE grits.

* * * *

Every time we unload the diswasher, my son, Ryan, goes for the sharpest knife in the cutlery holder. Does that mean he is a Norman Bates in training?

* * * *

Do you think Elvis is kicking Michael Jackson's butt for marrying his daughter right about now?

* * * *

My oldest daughter, Reilly, has had a recurring nightmare about Lucifer bringing an army of demons to earth to battle humankind. I asked her if I could turn it into a novel and she said, no, she'd do that herself. So far, she's doing an incredible job of it...

* * * *

Who invented plastic door handles for cars? I have a '96 Toyota and I've broken the handles off both the driver and passenger doors. And a replacement handle is 76 bucks! The Japenese are really smart and innovative about alot of things. But plastic door handles?

* * * *

At church the other morning, a three year old boy named Drew asked me if I was an old man. "No," I replied. "At least I don't feel old." Later, I considered it and realized that I was 16.3 times older than he was. Dang... I am old. Thanks alot, Drew.

* * * *

If Harry Potter is so popular, why haven't they made a Pez despenser of him yet?

* * * *

My great-great-grandfather, Andrew Nesbit, was always suspected of being a Confederate spy. Following a Civil War battle in Tenneseee, he came home, kissed his wife and child, then rode off. The tracks of his horse led to the edge of a lake, then disappeared. My great-great grandmother hired private detectives for years, trying to locate him, but they never could.

My great-great grandfather McGraw, however, was, without question, a Confederate, through and through. When asked by Union officers if he wanted to be hanged or pledge allegiance to the United States, he declared
"Be hanged, by damn!" Which they promptly did.

* * * *

Okay, that's all folks! (Porky Pig coined that phrase... and no, he's not from the South. If he was, they'd have stripped that bowtie and vest off and had him hanging in the smokehouse by now. We Tennesseans like our bacon and ham, you know.)

Back Into the Mouth of Hell

2009-07-15T02:31:00.000-07:00

No, it's not the sequel to Sam Rami's Drag Me To Hell or the title of my next novel. Woefully, it is my call back into work after five blissful months of lay-off from my job.

I'm not saying I don't like my job or the folks that I work with. It's just the hottest part of the summer, which makes laboring in a plant with massive curing ovens overhead seem like the fetid, blazing depths of purgatory. We're talking 110 degrees-plus, folks. It ain't no picnic in the park. Well, for Lucifer and Baal maybe.

So if you call or email in the middle of the day, sorry, but I ain't there. I'm not sitting in air-conditioned comfort writing stories and books. And I'm not at home enjoying the summer with my kids. I'm back at the saltmine and my young'uns are confined to daycare for the next three weeks until school starts, of which I'll be paying the equivilent of the gross national product of a small, third-world country.

If you hear a weeping and a wailing and a gnashing of teeth, it's just Ol' Ron punching the timeclock and jumping back into the fire and brimstone...

Elam Eyes Part 3: Old Dogs up to Old Tricks

2009-07-10T07:16:00.000-07:00

Those doggone dogs are up to no good again!

As some of you may have noticed at Hypericon, my eyes were much straighter following my operation in the spring, but they weren't 100% perfect. I reckon $9,000 just doesn't buy very much perfection any more.

After my procedure to correct the strabismus in my left eye, it seemed to have been successful after a lengthy recovery. But it with the passage of time and more and more hours in front of the computer screen, my eyes seem to be drifting back toward those annoying vision problems that plagued me before.

Lately, me and my eyes seem like a coon-hunter and couple of bluetick hunting dogs. A hunter trains his dogs to hunt in tandem, focusing on a single objective, say, a raccoon or a fox. But when their master's attention is off them for a moment, they can stray, one going after a rabbit, the other after a squirrel. That's the way I feel sometimes. I notice my eyes deviating a little (not nearly as much as before) when I'm driving a long distance or when my eyes become fatiqued after a long day of writing.

About a month and half ago, I went to my eye surgeon for a follow-up visit. He did that annoying little test where he covers your eyes individually to see if they are working properly. He perched -- almost anxiously -- on the edge of his stool, grinned, and rubbed his hands together almost gleefully (or at least I kinda remember him doing that) and asked "So... do you want to do the other eye?" Well, I didn't exactly flash him a big, ol' country-boy smile and say "Heck yes!" I instantly had a flashback to that long month of difficult recovery with my left eye. The weeks of double-vision, the whites resembling freshly ground hamburger, the pain and the swelling. And, afterward, it seemed like my left eye is much weaker and more succeptable to allergies than it was before, and it still does. So I told him I'd think about it. I'd hate to go through the same surgery and suffer the same long-road recovery, to have little or no benefit and two weakened eyes. Not to mention even more medical bills to pay.

So I'm going to wait it out and see what happens. Maybe Google some eye exercises and see if that helps strengthen the newly mended muscles of my left eye. True, my increased writing schedule has seemed to have had a negative impact on my recovery, but I can't let up now. I let my eyes rest up for ten long years. Right now I intend to get back to the business of being a horror writer and, if neccessary, let those doggone dogs run their rabbits and squirrels every now and then.

Horror Novels: Meat and Taters or Salad and Perrier?

2009-07-03T05:50:00.000-07:00

As some of you may know, I've been trying to break back into the mass market paperback game for some time now... for a couple of years, in fact. I'm mostly doing it for the benefit of my fans; for those who can't afford to plop down forty or fifty bucks for a signed limited edition, but want to read my novels on a regular basis.
Putting them back out in paperback is the best way to do that. It satisfies my old fans and conjures up alot of new ones who haven't yet had the opportunity to read a Ron Kelly novel of Southern-fried horror.

But it's proving to be a much tougher row to hoe than I first thought.

It's not because today's horror publishers don't take to my fiction. They all seem rather pleased that I'm back behind the keyboard again. And it's not because I write Southern fiction or in-your-face, roller-coaster type horror. Rather it's a problem that wasn't a problem at all back in the old days.

Recently, I sent a manuscript of HELL HOLLOW to the leading mass market paperback publisher of horror filling the bookracks today. I had high hopes of HH making it into paperback, since pre-orders for the hardcover limited have been brisk and everyone seems to be looking forward to reading it, especially since
it is my first published novel in nearly thirteen years. But then I got the email last week, giving me a very polite and dignified rejection. I wasn't devestated like I would have been in the early days. After all, I have alot of irons in the fire right now with several different publishers, unlike my time with Zebra when I had all my eggs in one basket. A rotten basket whose bottom dropped out unexpectedly and made a big ol' gooey
mess of things. But then most of you know that tired, old story already.

Anyway, why was HELL HOLLOW passed on this time around? Well... because it was too long.

That's right. When I sent a follow up inquery a couple of months after I'd sent it in, the editor emailed me back and said "It looks great... it's just the length we're concerned with. Exactly what is the word count anyway?" So I did a quick word count and sent the answer back to him. "124,000 words." Then, a few days later, another email. "Sorry, but we usually top off the novels we currently publish at 90,000 words. To publish a novel this huge would be a little more than we could manage. Paper costs are high due to the economical crisis and we just couldn't justify releasing a book with such a large word count." Then later on, another email, suggesting that I: a) edit the book down to 90,000 words or b) wait until the economy improves and submit it again later on.

This rejection, due to the word count, was rather surprising to me. After all, I'd cut my teeth in mass market paperback publishing back in the early 90's writing those big ol' thick horror novels. And I was encouraged to do so. Zebra pretty much requested that my novels be around 350 to 450 pages. They wanted big hoss-like books on their rosters: the kind you could prop a door open with or that your kid could sit on at the supper table in place of a booster seat. And the fans seemed to have a great hunger for those meaty horror novels. Four hundred pages weren't nothing back then. Stephen King was writing 800 to 1,000 page whoppers and the horror fans were eating them up. It gave the writers plenty of room for character and plot development, along with multiple scares throughout, ending with a dynamite keg of a climax. It was just the norm back then. Go and check out the shelves of a used bookstore (if you can locate one these days) and take a look at all the chunky horror novels put out in the 80's and 90's. Then look at today's horror novels and, in comparison, they look... well, kinda puny.

Now, I'm not saying that today's horror novels are puny in content. Most of them pack as much of a wallop (or more) than most of those horror novels that houses like Zebra, Liesure, Pocket, or Tor put out back in the heyday of the horror boom. Folks like Brian Keene, Tom Piccirilli, Bryan Smith, and Edward Lee are writing novels that give readers effective horror within a limited page count. So, is that what today's horror reader wants? A quick read? Or is that something that they have been conditioned to expect in today's publishing world? A two hundred page book for seven or eight bucks, where they were getting four hundred pages for four or five bucks back when the horror novel was so plentiful and entire horror sections were proudly displayed in most of the brick and morter bookstores?

I don't know... maybe I'm totally off base here. Maybe that is what folks want these days. Time is so limited in today's world that readers want to sit down and consume a novel in a day or two, rather than a long-time commitment of three or four days. It's just that folks seemed mighty excited when they found out HELL HOLLOW would be weighing in at a hefty 500 pages. Like they'd been force-fed salad for an awful long time, when they really had a hunger for a big ol' plate of meat and taters.

So... what am I going to do? Am I going to sit down and edit down my steriod-pumped novels? Books like FEAR, BLOOD KIN, and HELL HOLLOW? No, I'm not. To do so would be a slap in the face to my loyal fans. Why should my readers get a novel of original length in hardover, but get a shorter watered-down version in paperback? Well, quite simply, they won't be given that opportunity. I'd never go to that length simply to break back into the paperback market.

Thank God for the small press, for if not for them, I would more than likely not be publishing (or even writing) today at all. They have the confidence and insight to see that it isn't the page count that makes the book special, but the quality of the storyline and characters. Will I continue to write collosal novels like the ones I wrote back in the 80's and 90's? Probably not. The novel ideas that I've come up with following my return to the horror genre are more stream-lined that the ones I wrote back then. In fact, I'd say my next novel, A DARK AND BLOODY GROUND, will weigh in at around 85,000 or 90,000 words. But then, if I do planned sequel novels for FEAR and BLOOD KIN, they will likely be back in the 120,000 plus range. It just depends on what the storyline warrents. And, ultimately, it comes down to providing an enjoyable and memorable journey for the reader. In my opinion, that's all that really matters.

Vintage Cemetery Dance on eBay!

2009-06-22T11:50:00.000-07:00

While going through my bookshelves this weekend, I came across some old Cemetery Dance magazines. And, lo and behold, they included alot of the really vintage, ground-breaking stuff... issues #1,2,3,4,5, and 7, among others. And all were in excellent condition. Alot of great fiction in these early issues... stories by Joe R. Lansdale, Bentley Little, David Silva, Steve Vernon, Brian Hodge, and I'm in there, too. So I thought, what the heck, let's put them on eBay and see if we can pay a few bills that are getting a little moldy, they've been lying around so long.

If you're interested you can check them out here:

http://books.shop.ebay.com/?_from=R40&_trksid=m38.I1313&_nkw=Cemetery+Dance+Magazine&_sacat+267

If they don't sell the first time, I'll be relisting them, to give folks a second chance. This is a great chance to own a piece (or two or three) of horror genre history... the best of the small press magazines at its very beginning.

Gravy and Biscuits with a Side Order of Keene

2009-06-10T11:03:00.000-07:00

Left to Right: Brian, Ron, Gregg, Katie, Hunter, & Mark

You know, it's funny how some things in life end up surprising you in a big way. How an event you thought would be enjoyable, but minor, turns out to be the highpoint of your entire weekend. This happened last Friday, at the beginning of Hypericon 5.

As some of you may know, Ronald Kelly.com holds an annual breakfast at a Cracker Barrel resturant in Goodletsville, Tennessee the Friday morning before the beginning of the Hypericon festivities. Last year it was limited to a party of two: yours truly and Hunter Goatley, my good friend and RK.com webmaster. Others who had planned to attend either got misdirected to another Cracker Barrel or had partied too hearty the previous Thursday night and neglected to rise early enough to join us. I knew we would have at least a couple more attend this year; Katie O'Neill and her beau, Gregg. And Mark Hickerson said he would try to make it this year as well.

As I drove the seventy miles from Brush Creek to Goodletsville, my mind was buzzing with expectations of the convention to come. I mentally mapped out my schedule, which consisted of two book signings, two discussion panels, and a late-night reading. I also considered several fellow writers who I was looking forward to meeting for the first time: Bryan Smith, Maurice Broaddus, and Wrath James White. But there was one Hypericon guest -- the guest of honor, in fact -- who I felt more than a little anxiety at the prospect of meeting.

Brian Keene. The resurrector of zombies and conjurer of conquering worms. A prolific and thoroughly unique horror author who, in my opinion, had been instrumental in stirring up the stagnant pool of horror fiction and bringing it back to vibrant life, for the betterment of both fans and horror writers alike. Sure, I'd corresponded with Brian a couple of times through email: once to ask his advice on motion picture options and another to invite him to contribute to my Somewhere South of Hell anthology (which he readily agreed to). Also, I'd been a guest on the One-On-One thread of his discussion forum. So it wasn't exactly like we were strangers to one another.

But there is always that underlying bit of trepidation and uncertainty when meeting someone face to face, especially someone as respected and famous (or is it infamous?) as Mr. Keene. I mean, most new fans of the genre hold him above Stephen King as the current master of contemporary horror. I remember recieving a shipment of books from Mark Hickerson shortly after the 2006 Hypericon... a box loaded with signed copies of Brian's novels. Books like Terminal, The Conqueror Worms, The Rising, and City of the Dead... all modern classics after the span of only a few short years. And Mark's stories of Brian's convention exploits were even more intimidating. "He's a freaking force of nature!" Mark would tell me and, mentally, I would conjure the imposing figure of a boisterious, hulking form clad in black t-shirt and jeans, and sporting a thunderous Zeus-like voice, stalking the hallways of Hypericon with an adoring entourage of sycophants following closely behind him, like the Israelites following Moses to the Promised Land.

During that long interstate drive Friday morning, I began to wonder how our first meeting would transpire. Would I approach him like some gibbering, doe-eyed fanboy? Or would I encounter him at a reading or panel and be devastated with a lackluster and indifferent response of "Ron? Ron who?"

As it turned out, I was to find out much sooner than I expected.

I turned off Exit 97, fifteen minutes before our agreed-upon breakfast appointment of ten o'clock. Thinking that I had beaten everone there, I drove by the front of Cracker Barrel, searching for a parking place. It was then that I spotted my old pal Mark sitting in one of the high-backed rocking chairs out front. And, occupying the rocker next to him, was someone I didn't recognize at first. Okay... maybe I did recognize him, but it was one of those cases where someone appears where you least expect them to, like Elvis at Burger King. Naw, I thought to myself. That can't be for real.

But, after parking and strolling down the covered porch of Cracker Barrel, I began to realize that it was for real. The guy sitting next to Mark stood up and extended his hand, looking genuinely pleased to see me. It was Brian Keene, in the flesh.

It was then that all my former misconceptions of this master horror author completely flew out the window. This man was very courteous, very laid-back, and very respectful of his company and his surroundings. We sat on the front porch of the restaurant and rocked for awhile, talking while we waited for the arrival of the others. And something took place that really put my mind to ease. In the span of only a few minutes, Brian made me feel like an old and dear friend. I've only met a handful of writers who possessed a similar gift for putting someone completely at ease, Joe R. Lansdale being one of them.

Soon, Hunter, Katie, and Gregg arrived. They too seemed genuinely surprised and delighted with the presence of our unexpected breakfast guest. Mark simply stood back and sported that big ol' satisfied grin of his; the one that says "I never cease to amaze you, do I, Ron?" No, my friend, after all these years, you never do and you probably never will.

It wasn't long before we were inside, feasting on a breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon, pancaskes, and gravy and biscuits. The conversation was intriguing, to say the least. Brian and I talked about the business of writing and shared the opinion that Alex McVey was undoubtedly the finest artist working in the horror genre today. We also talked about our families and discovered that our infant sons are a mere one day apart in age. Our eating came to an end, but our conversation continued, including talk of Katie and Gregg's sight-seeing romp through Tennessee and Alabama, and Hunter's insightful update of Robert McCammon's upcoming novel, Mister Slaughter. As the conversation continued over coffee, I could detect the waitress eyeing us anxiously (wanting to free up our table, no doubt) and neighboring customers studying us uneasily as they overheard the more bizarre and grisly tidbits of the subjects we were discussing. But, then, what should they expect from a bunch of horror writers and fans?

A little after noon, we left Cracker Barrel and headed to downtown Nashville for the Days Inn Stadium and the start of a wonderful weekend of panels, readings, book signings, and just plain hanging out and enjoying each other's company. It felt good to spend time with old friends and get acquainted with new ones. My wife, Joyce, and my children, Reilly, Makenna, and Ryan came down and joined me on Saturday afternoon, and my brother, Kevin, even stopped by on Sunday morning to visit awhile. So not only did I enjoy my horror genre family that weekend, but my true family as well.

Me and Brian at Hypericon 5

One lesson that I learnt this Hypericon weekend was to never judge a book by its cover... especially ones that sport out-stretched zombie hands or massive worms burgeoning from out of the depths of the earth. Brian Keene may be more outspoken than I am, may write fiction that is more outrageous and in-your-face (and socially relevant) than my own brand of Southern-fried horror. But, underneath it all, we're brothers in a very unique way. We share the same blue-collar roots and the same love of family and friends.

And one other thing. We also share the same demented passion for scaring the living crap out of folks. Not that that's a bad thing to be good at... or is it?

Heading to Hypericon

2009-06-03T02:53:00.000-07:00

A panel from last year's Hypericon: from left to right,

James Newman, Joe R. Lansdale, Ron Kelly, Deborah

LeBlanc, and moderator

This coming Friday morning I'll be heading to Nashville for Hypericon 5, which will be held at the Days Inn Stadium on June 5th through 7th.

My first stop: the Cracker Barrel in Goodletsville for my annual Ronald Kelly .Com Breakfast. Usually, only Hunter and I show up, but it looks like more folks from the RK message board will be showing up this year. I'm really looking to seeing old friends again, as well as meeting some for the first time, face-to-face. For more info, check the Hypericon 5 thread at the discussion forum at http://www.ronaldkelly.com/.

Then it's off to the convention itself. Alot of top horror writers and artists will be attending this year, including Brian Keene, Wrath James White, Deborah LeBlanc, Maurice Broaddus, Scott Nicholson, Matt and Denna Warner, Bryan Smith, Alex McVey, Steve Gilberts, and Steven Shrewsbury, among others. Of course, I'll be hanging around, too, doing this, that, and the other.

Here is a schedule of what I'll be involved in:

Friday 6:00 PM - Book Signing (Dealers Room) with Brian Keene and Steven Shrewsbury

9:45 PM - Panel: Diversity in Horror (Lobby Panel Room), with Brian Keene, Wrath James White, Alicia Benson, and Maurice Broaddus.

11:00 PM - Reading (Lobby Panel Room) with Brian Keene, Steven Shrewsbury, Johnathan Maberry, John Everson.

Saturday 10:30 AM - Panel: Believe It Or Not: Religious and Secular Influence in Horror (9th Floor Ballroom) with Brian Keene, Maurice Broaddus, Wrath James White, and Deborah LeBlanc.

11:45 AM - Book Signing (Dealer's Room) with Wrath James White and Deborah LeBlanc

After that, the pressure's off and I'll be able to hang out and take in some of the other panels and stuff. Our baby-sitting plans hit a snag, so Joyce and the kids will be coming up on Saturday night for a mini-vacation. I hope all the pirates and fairies and zombies and Jedi knights don't freak the young'uns out too much.

Hope to see you there. If you are, hunt me down and say howdy!

Some Southern-Fried Horror For Your Ears!

2009-05-27T04:20:00.001-07:00

Hey folks... got a real treat for you over at Ronald Kelly.com. Thanks to our good pal and webmaster extraordinaire, Hunter Goatley, we now have some creepy horror audio for you in our Audio & Video Section. Hunter has worked some digital magic and concocted the following aurial assaults for your eardrums!

FLESH WELDER / Finally, the full-blown recording of my Croatoan chapbook, Flesh Welder, is available to the public for the first time. This recording was commissioned by Steven Lloyd of Croatoan around the time of FW's release and was expertly performed by master voice talent Wayne June. You can now listen to the 5-part novella in its entirety.

DARK DIXIE: Tales of Southern Horror / Hunter recently digitalized and remastered my audio collection of Southern horror tales put out by Spine-Tingling Press (yes, the same one that was nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Non-Musical or Spoken Recording back in 1992). This audio collection includes such old-time favorites as Miss Abigail's Delicate Condition, Yea, Though I Drive, Papa's Exile, The Cistern, and Black Harvest. This 7-part series also includes the original introduction and author bio.

UNDERTAKER'S MOON / We also have the 4-part audio excerpt of the prologue to my Irish werewolf novel, Undertaker's Moon available. This was also commissioned by Croatoan and dramatically read by Wayne June.

POD OF HORROR #52 / Now you can listen to my Pod of Horror interview with Mark Justice via the Ron Kelly website and hear my Tennessee accent in all its Southern glory! This interview included discussion about the Zebra years, my ten-year hiatus from horror, my comeback, and my upcoming work. You can listen to my interview only, or the entire Pod of Horror #52 broadcast, including Mark's interview with Clive Barker, the Call of Kalanta, book reviews, and more.

So head on over the website and download to your heart's content here:

http://www.ronaldkelly.com/av.html

Remember, it's absolutely FREE! Hope y'all enjoy it!

Staying Grounded: My Monthly Dose of Blue Collar

2009-05-21T08:37:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I've been laid off from my job for a while now. What started out as a 30-day lay-off in mid-February has drawn out into nearly four months. And from the amount of business my plant has lost during that time, it doesn't look like I'll be called back soon.

Not that I'm complaining that much. I'm drawing a check from Uncle Sam that is close to the take-home pay I was getting every week and I'm getting to keep my health insurance (for now). So it looks like this coming summer will be spent with the kids and in front of the computer monitor catching up on my writing. So, like I said, what I have isn't too shabby compared to some folks who are hurting due to factory shut-downs and unemployment. At least I have something to fall back on and some very entertaining company (almost too entertaining sometimes!) here at the house.

Still, even with all the positive factors, I do tend to get restless sometimes. And, believe it or not, I get to missing the old workplace, even with its stress and down sides.

One of the conditions of keeping my health insurance is that I come in to work five hours per month. This consists of waking up extra early around the 10th of the month (the anniversary of my lay-off), dressing in my gray uniform (sorry, not blue) with the company logo above one pocket and the embroidered RON above the other, driving twenty miles to nearby Lebanon, clocking in, working my butt off for five hours, then clocking out and driving back home. The amount I earn in that 300 minute period must pay a hunk of my family insurance benefits, because when I recieve my check for the following week it usually amounts to around $1.56 after deductions.

But this blog isn't about the insurance, but mostly about going back to work and staying grounded in the real world. The world I grew up in. The Blue Collar world.

I come from a blue collar background. From folks that worked an honest day's work for little pay in return. The majority of my kin worked in factories or garages, while others worked the land, on farms they owned or didn't own. The farmers grew corn and tobacco; the others worked as forklift drivers, mechanics, or assembly line workers. My father worked in a tool and die shop for nearly forty years before retiring. Before that, in the Army, he worked in the motor pool, keeping the jeeps in proper working order. I remember growing up and smelling the thick scent of oil and raw metal on my father when he came home in the evening. It wasn't an alluring smell, and neither was it repulsive. It was simply the smell of hard labor and doing jobs that others -- the more educated -- neither had the desire or gumption to attempt. I'd smelled other odors on my grandfather and uncles after a long day in the fields; not oil and metal, but sweat and raw earth, along with the tang of tobacco juice on their breath. Their uniform was not the blue-collared garb of a machinist or mechanic, but felt hats, jeans, and long-sleeved shirts to protect their flesh from the merciless rays of the sun. Still, it found their faces and the napes of their necks, burnishing their skins an Indian brown and etching a roadmap of lines around their eyes and along their cheeks, spilling down the sharp, steep cliffs of their jawlines like waterfalls of character.

Since those of our bloodline attending college was as scarce as whiskers on a bullfrog, I joined the ranks of the working class following high school. Mind you, I still wanted to be a writer. More than anything else on the face of the earth I wanted to spend my days behind a keyboard, conjuring books and stories from my imagination. But it was necessary to work in the meantime. I had to make a living and take care of myself. At the beginning, I worked as a janitor in my father's shop, sweeping up razor-sharp curls of steel and washing windows pitted by white-hot specks of metal thrown off as sparks from the spot-welding machines. Later I became a welder myself and did that for nearly seven years. When I began writing novels for a living in the early 90's, I thought that blue-collar existance was over and done with. Then several years later the implosion of the horror market rendered me jobless and I did as I was raised to do. I laced up my steel-toed boots, packed my lunchbox, and returned to the factories where I grew up. In late '96, I got a job as a press operator in an electric motor plant and stood in one spot with my thumbs on the triggers for nearly five years, until Mexico took our work and I was faced with unemployement once again. I drove to Lebanon and found a job at Metokote, first as a painter on the powder-coating line, then later took on the line leader position of the packing team, packaging electro-coated car parts for shipment to bodyshops all over the nation. And I had that position for nearly eight years, until this recent downturn in automotive consumerism.

So you see, I'm not a stranger to unemployment, the same as I am not a stranger to the blue-collar way of life. But with this recent lay-off and my imersion in my writing, I almost fear losing this sense of blue collar I grew up observing and participating in. If you've read my work, you know that most of my characters are cast from the working class; factory workers, farmers, mechanics, storekeepers, etc... the salt of the earth, as they were once called. And, due to being around such folks all of my life, I believe I can write those characters convincingly. But to do so, I must keep in touch with those who punch the clock and eat their lunches amid the smell of oil, metal, and gasoline fumes. That is why I don't mind going back for those five hours and rubbing elbows with the sort of folks who live from paycheck to paycheck and grumble about the lastest production manager as if he were Satan himself. For it is their essence that go into the men and women of my stories and novels, not some made-up paperdoll of a character that I know absolutely nothing about. In some sense, most of my characters (particularly the main characters) are me... the Jeb Sweenys and the Boyd Andrews. They are constructed from my experiences as a child and as a man; infusing them with their joys and sorrows, their aspirations and angsts.

So, do I complain about breaking away from my most recent domestic routine? A routine that is filled with playing kids, grass-mowing at mid-day, and hours of creating Southern-fried horror behind the keyboard? No, I don't mind at all. If only for a mere five hours, I get to return to a place I feel comfortable with and to spend a little time with people I care about and who care about me in return. I relish hearing their bitching and moaning, as well as their lame jokes (most of them dirty to the point of being pornographic), for that is what keeps me grounded in their world... and keeps me writing my characters the way they ought to be... constructed of flesh and bone, piss and vinegar... instead of unconvincing shadow puppets constucted of random words on cheap pulp paper.

The Sick Stuff... SOLD OUT!

2009-05-19T06:45:00.000-07:00

According to Paul Goblirch at Thunderstorm Books, my mini-collection of extreme horror tales, THE SICK STUFF, is now officially SOLD OUT, a mere week following its release.

I'd like to thank you all for your interest and support, and for shelling out your hard-earned bucks for that nasty little book with the dead feet on the cover. A special thanks to the following folks: Zach McCain for the gruesome artwork on the cover and the signature page of the hardcover edition (this book is dedicated to you, hoss!), James Newman for writing a wonderful foreward and generating a renewed interest in my novel FEAR, Paul Little for his article "Collecting Ronald Kelly" in the HC, and to David Barnett of Fat Cat Design for the unique design and layout. But most of all to Paul for making the publishing process of TSS a very informative and enjoyable one, without a speck of stress or uncertainty (something I can't say about all my publishing experiences!) This was my first time out with Thunderstorm, but if it's up to me, it certainly won't be my last.

For those who missed out on ordering THE SICK STUFF, I will have copies at Hypericon on June 5th through 7th, so stop on by the signing table and pick yourself up one, along with a complimentary SICK STUFF barf bag (you may need it!).

I've got alot more Southern-fried horror coming at you during the next few months (from Cemetery Dance, Apex, Full Moon, etc.), so keep your eyeballs peeled for upcoming details...

The Sick Stuff Now Shipping!

2009-05-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

According to Paul Goblirch at Thunderstorm Books, the softcover edition of The Sick Stuff has arrived from the printer and is now ready for shipping!

The Sick Stuff is a mini collection of seven extreme horror tales that I wrote way back during the splatterpunk era of the early nineties. It contains three previously published stories (Diary, Housewarming, and Old Hacker) as well as four tales never before seen in print (Mass Appeal, Pins & Needles, The Abduction, and Mojo Mama). The softcover edition features an introduction by James Newman and cover art by Zach McCain. The Sick Stuff is #2 in Thunderstorm's Elemental Series, Nate Southerd's Just Like Hell being the first. The Elemental Series is in a small, digest-type format that would easily fit in your hip pocket or in the palm of your hand. The Sick Stuff may be small in stature, but it packs a whallop at 140 pages, each and every one dripping with depraved and disgusting delight.

The hardcover edition of The Sick Stuff, alas, was sold out several days following its announcement, so it is no longer available. It features several extras for the discerning collector, including a special creepy-crawly signature page by Zach and a special article by Paul Little of Full Moon Press titled "Collecting Ronald Kelly".

Paul expects the softcover of TSS to sell out fast, so if you haven't already ordered your copy, now would be a good time to do so. You can order directly from the publisher at http://www.thunderstormbooks.com/ or from two other sources: Horror Mall at http://www.horror-mall.com/ and Cemetery Dance at http://www.cemeterydance.com/.

WARNING!: This tiny little book contains work that's a mite stronger and much more disgusting than Ol' Ron's normal Southern-Fried fare, so keep that in mind. I'm still the same down-home, good-natured fella... I just like to get down and dirty with the rest of 'em sometimes. Hope you enjoy it!

Hypericon 5

2009-05-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

Hypericon 5, a very popular convention of "speculative fiction" down here in the middle Tennessee area, will be taking place on June 5th through 7th in Nashville. The genres of horror, science fiction, and fantasy all pretty much share the bill here, but there seems to be an overwhelming line-up of strictly horror authors and artists scheduled this year. I urge all of you who can possibly attend this event to do so, since it is a terrific way to meet your favorite folks in the horror genre, be it writers, artists, or small press publishers.

Brian Keene will be the Author Guest of Honor this year, along with the talented Steven Gilberts as Artist Guest of Honor. Other guests include: Bryan Smith, Scott Nicholson, Deborath LeBlanc, Steven Shrewsbury, Maurice Broaddus, Wrath James White, Matthew Warner, Alex McVey, Deena Warner, and others. Of course, I'll be there, too, as I have for the past couple of years. I'll be on several horror and writing related panels, and will be having a couple of book signings as well. I'll have plenty of copies of Midnight Grinding and Other Twilight Terrors and The Sick Stuff on hand, as well as a few rare copies of Flesh Welder in case you didn't have a chance of picking up a copy back in 2008. Also I'll be bringing Alex McVey's original cover painting of Hell Hollow for all to see.

Hypericon 5 is taking place at the Days Inn Stadium and rooms are still available at a very reasonable rate. Registration for the entire weekend is a mere $35. Believe me, if you can possibly make it, it would be well worth your while. For more information, check out www.hypericon.info. Hope to see you there!

New and Upcoming Releases

2009-04-30T06:59:00.000-07:00

I've been busier than a mole-digging dog these days, so I thought I'd let y'all know what's been going on with my writing career during the first half of 2009... as well as what's in store for the remainder of this year.

The Final Feature / This is an original short story that I wrote exclusively for the premiere of Horror Drive-In's new Fiction section. It's sort of a dark comedy with a bit of nastiness and naughtiness thrown in for good measure. You can read it here: http://www.horrordrive-in.com/.

Cumberland Furnace / This creepy Southern ghost story (based on true events way back during the War Between the States) recently appeared in the fifth volume of Richard Chizmar's acclaimed anthology series. I'm in good company here, sharing the storytelling porch with such fine folks as Kealan Patrick Burke, Rick Hautala, Graham Masterson, Scott Nicholson, John Skipp, Chet Williamson, and many others. You can grab your copy now at http://www.cemeterydance.com/.

Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors / My first short story collection, containg 32 stories from the past twenty years of my horror writing career, was released by Cemetery Dance Publications in mid-February and has garnered many positive reviews from such publications and websites as Publisher's Weekly, Booklist, Famous Monsters of Filmland, Horror Drive-In, and The Green Man Review. It boasts a darkly disturbing cover by Alex McVey and is available now in regular limited edition, as well as limited lettered edition. Order your copy now at http://www.cemeterydance.com/.

The Sick Stuff / This mini-collection of seven extreme splatter-punk type stories will be released by Thunderstorm Books in early May. It contains three previously-published stories, as well as four never-before-published tales of darkness and depravity! The Sick Stuff includes a special introduction by James Newman and creepy-crawly artwork by Zach McCain. Due to a limited print run, they're sure to go fast. You can order your copy at http://www.thunderstormbooks.com/ or http://www.horror-mall.com/.

Hell Hollow / My first full-length novel in over twelve years (a whopping 500 pages!) will be released by Cemetery Dance this summer. This book features ghoulish artwork by Alex McVey and is availabe for pre-order in regular limited and lettered editions. You can reserve your copy at http://www.cemeterydance.com/.

The Thing at the Side of the Road / This original story will be making its debut in Harlan County Horrors, a rural horror anthology edited by Mari Adkins for Apex Books. It should be making its appearance around October of this year.

The Peddler's Journey / This original tale -- yet another ghost story, this one set high atop the Smoky Mountains, -- will appear in Appalachian Holiday Hauntings, a Christmas horror anthology edited by Mark Justice (of Pod of Horror fame) and Micheal Knost for Woodland Press. This one should be released in November of this year... just in time for your Christmas stockings!

Undertaker's Moon / Finally, after wandering from one ill-fated small press publisher to another during the past several years, my novel of Irish werewolves in rural Tennessee will be seeing print... in a lavish special edition brought to you by Full Moon Press. Undertaker's Moon will be Number One in FMP''s The Essential Ronald Kelly Collection and, along with the original Zebra novel and horrifyingly hirsute interior illustrations and cover painting by Alex McVey, it will also include a brand-new prequel novella titled The Spawn of Arget Bethir. We're hoping that UM will be ready to ship by the end of this year. This book will be available in regular limited edition, lettered edition, and trade hardcover. You can preorder your copy at http://www.thefullmoonpress.com/.

Now here are a few more things to come... as well as projects in the works:

Cemetery Dance Magazine / I will have an interview and Halloween-themed short story featured in the Halloween issue of Cemetery Dance Magazine. Also, I'll also be involved in another Halloween-themed project of huge preportions to be released around the same time.

Signature Series / I've recently been invited to contribute an original novella for CD's acclaimed Signature Series. I can't tell you exactly what it's about at this point, but I will say that its the type of dark tale that'll come crawling down out of the shadows and leave you with one hellacious bite! Look for this one later this year.

Somewhere South of Hell / This anthology of original Southern horror tales will mark my debut as an editor and will boast an impressive roster of respected authors of dark prose, such as Joe R. Lansdale, Brian Keene, Elizabeth Massie, Bryan Smith, James Newman, Scott Nicholson, Deborah LeBlanc, Weston Osche, Nate Southard, as well as many others. It will be illustrated by Alan M. Clark and Alex McVey. This anthology of Southern-fried horror should be seeing print sometime in 2010.

After the Burn / The proposal for my collection of post-apocalyptic horror tales is still under consideration at a major horror publisher. This collection of two novellas and five short stories will contain a truckload of original artwork by Zach McCain. Hopefully we can get a green-light for this project and have it in your hands and on your bookshelf sometime in 2010.

A Dark & Bloody Ground / This month I'll be sitting down and fleshing out a proposal for my next novel, A Dark & Bloody Ground. The way it's looking, this will be quiet a departure from my previous novels; much darker and much more grisly than the stuff I did back in the 90's. I've got several potential publishers for this one, so I won't say who I'm gonna send it to first (maybe I'll send a pair of boxing gloves with each manuscript and let the interested parties duke it out!) I should have this one in the finishing stages toward the middle of 2010.

So there you have it. Alot of Southern-fried horror coming your way in 2009 and 2010. Empty yourself a shelf on the ol' bookcase and I'll help you fill it up right fast (or at least that's the plan). Stay tuned here at the Southern-Fried & Horrified blog, or at http://www.ronaldkelly.com/ for updates on these and other Kelly projects.

And Now a Word From Our Sponsor...

2009-04-20T10:05:00.000-07:00

This must have been directed toward Northerners. For Southerners

it's a way of life.

A good argument for obesity

So that's why my doctor tells me to take two humps
and call him in the morning...

Infants with double-edged razor blades...

sounds like a good idea to me.

Those daffy british folks and their queer... uh, strange... use of the English language.

Now this is just udderly ridiculous...

Why does this sweet little girl have a maniacal gleam in her eye?
If not the bread, then the knife perhaps? Or is it the blood-red jam?

Oops... that one just kinda slipped in there...

No More "Elam-Eyes" Part 2: The Recovery

2009-04-14T07:34:00.000-07:00

How I looked after the operation... only worse.

Well, it's done. It wasn't a heckuva lot of fun... but it's done.

As you know from my previous blog, No More "Elam-Eyes": My Upcoming Surgery, I was scheduled to undergo a procedure to correct my Strabismus, or crossed eyes. While both my eyes had the tendency to wander a bit, it was the left one that wanted run off way off into left field and stay there. So my eye surgeon, Dr. John Bond III, performed the operation on Wednesday, April 8th.

I arrived at Centennial Hospital in Nashville at 7AM, for preliminary tests: blood tests, an EKG, etc. That process, in itself, was an experience. The medical technician left a nasty looking bruise on my inner forearm that still hasn't gone away (from drawing blood). I actually think phlebotomist is just a fancy word for vampire, if you ask me. Also, the electrodes for the EKG left a few suction marks on my flesh, making me look as though I had fallen into a vat of hungry leeches. But that was the tame part of the journey...

Around nine o'clock, Joyce and I were ushered into a private room where I was prepared for the journey to the "holding area". Of course, I was told to disrobe and put on one of those little backless hospital gowns. This was a first for me, wearing one of those dadblamed things. I did get to keep my drawers on, though, which served to rescue my manly dignity from further humiliation. In fact, the whole surgery thing was a first for me, since I'd never gone through anything like it before. Around 9:30, I was wheeled down a winding halway toward the first step of my eventual desintation. I got an eerie feeling as I began to round corner after sterile corner. I kept expecting to turn the next corner and find two twin girls standing there calling "Come play with us, Ron. Forever and ever."

Finally, I arrived at the Holding Area, which, in a way, resembled animals being led to slaughter... or so my ghoulish mind fantasized. I was wheeled into a curtained space, where a dozen people appeared, one-by-one, and asked me the same four questions. What is your name? What is your date of birth? Who is your doctor? What procedure are you having done today? I reckon this was a fail-safe plan among the staff to make sure that I didn't have my gall bladder extracted by mistake. The anethesiaologist dropped by and, intially, told me that they would be doing a nerve block, deadening the area around my eye, and that I would be awake during the entire operation. Later, he came back and told me that they had decided to put me under for the procedure. Whew! Thank God for small favors. Ten minutes before ten o'clock, Dr. Bond stopped by and said "So, we agreed that we would only do the left eye today, is that correct?" I said, yeah, that was the plan. The good doctor then took an ink pen from his coat pocket and marked an X prominently above my left eyebrow, just so there would be no confusion... an X that stayed there , for all to see, for several days afterward.

At 10Am, two nurses came to take me to the operating room. "Let's turn on the good stuff," one of them suggested and started my IV. "You'll just feel a little drunk." When I told her I'd never been drunk before in my life, she said "Well, this should feel pretty weird to you." It was. Almost immediately, I felt as though the gurney I was laying on was rocking to and fro, like a hammock. My vision began to get a little fuzzy as they wheeled me down more immaculately white corridors. We went through a set of double doors, I saw those big alien-looking banks of operating lights overhead... and that was all she wrote. The next thing I knew I was staring up at the styrofoam paneling of the recovery room ceiling through my right eye. The left was covered with gauze and what felt like a mile or two of surgical tape. I stayed there, drifting in and out of consciousness for an hour, and was eventually wheeled back into the little room where I started out. My devoted wife was there to attend to me, providing me with compassion and Sprite on ice. Soon, the effects of the anesthesia had diminished to the point where I could dress in my street clothing once again. Before leaving the hospital, the nurse removed my bandages, revealing my bloody and battered left eye (see the photo above for a hint of what I saw when I glanced in the mirror). Ray Milland in The Man With the X-Ray Eyes looked danged good compared to how Ol' Ron looked at that moment.

Now let's get into the gruesome and gory stuff. Hey, I'm a horror writer, remember? I'm entitled to grossing you out for a sentence or two, aren't I? Well, to do the operation, my doctor had to literally remove my eyeball from my skull. My wife, Joyce, still denys that it happened, but it was necessary to do everything that had to be done. When the offensive orb was plucked from my gaping socket, several deadening shots were injected into the optical nerve and extraocular muscles. It was a good thing that I wasn't awake during the procedure, or I would have likely been looking myself in the face. Dr. Bond (and his father, who assisted him) shortened two of the extraocular muscles on the side next to my nose, while repositioning one on the opposite side, loosening it up a bit. Then the eyeball was popped back into my head with the pupil positioned securely in the center, the way it should be. Days after the operation, my left eye was swollen and possessed the texture and color of raw hamburger. Thankfully, during the past couple of days, the swelling has gone down and I've began to regain normal function again. I can actually see some of the white of my eye today and my double-vision appears to be clearing up.

So there you have it... much more than you really wanted to know about my eye operation. I'm glad I had it done, but most of all I'm glad its over and done with. One of the goals of only doing the left eye was to see if the correction would "bully" the right eye into behaving itself and staying put... which, so far, it has. The next time you see me in person, I should be looking at you dead on with no deviation whatsoever. I'm hoping and praying that this single operation will do the trick, 'cause I'd sure hate to think that I'd have to undergo the same procedure again with the other eye. Hopefully, in that respect, the only things that will remain crossed are my fingers. My eyes, on the other hand, should stay where the good Lord intended them to be in the first place.

MIDNIGHT GRINDING Receives Positive Reviews!

2009-04-11T08:30:00.000-07:00

Since it's release in mid-February, my short story collection, Midnight Grinding & Other Twilight Terrors, has garnered quite a few positive reviews from such publications and websites as Famous Monsters of Filmland, Publisher's Weekly, Horror Drive-In, Dead in the South, and The Green Man Review.

You can check them out at http://www.ronaldkelly.com/reviews.html

No More "Elam-Eyes": My Upcoming Surgery

2009-04-06T07:02:00.001-07:00

Not me... but close.

Do you remember Jack Elam? He was that great character actor who appeared in hundreds of motion pictures, mostly westerns, during the 50's, 60's, and 70's. Legend has it that he was a California accountant until his eye doctor told that he would have to give up his chosen profession or eventually go blind. So, armed with very little acting experience and one very noticable physical defect, he decided to try his hand at acting. It wasn't long before he hit it big in Hollywood and over the next three decades seemed to appear in every-other western film made. Oh, he was an excellent actor... always playing the gruff heavy or comedy foil to actors like John Wayne and James Garner. But most of all, the single thing that brought Jack Elam fame and fortune was, quite simply, "the eye".

Elam suffered from Strabismus, a condition in which the eyes are not properly alligned with each other. It typically involves a lack of coordination between the extraocular muscles ( the muscles along the sides of the eyeball) causing one or both eyes to drift inward toward the nose or outward in the direction of the ear. Most folks know it as crossed eyes, lazy eyes, or wal-eyes. In Elam, it was his left eye that canted perpetually toward his temple.

In my case, both eyes do it a little, but mostly my left eye. Yes, folks, I too suffer from that annoying condition called Strabismus. It started when I was a young man, only happening late in the evening or at night after my eyes became particularly tired or strained. But as I grow older, my ability to coordinate both eyes for the common good has grown frustrating and more than a bit embarrassing. My left eye tends to drift to the side without my knowledge at the most unopportune moments, bringing odd looks from folks and a mixture of fright and fascination from most kids (who lack tact and promptly ask me "What in the world is wrong with your eye, mister?). Fortunately, I have the ability to consciously realign my eye, but by then the damage is already done. People have branded me with the embarassing stigma of "crossed eyedness" and they're constantly watching for me to let down my guard and let it happen again. Which, eventually, it always does.

A few years ago, I didn't let it bother me so much. But now that my writing career is gaining momentum and I'm out in public at book signings and conventions, it bothers me more than I care to admit. When you're meeting your fans face-to-face, you don't want to be looking at them eye-to-eye with only one good orb, while the other checks out the coffee shop on the other side of the bookstore. Sure, it might seem to be appropriately spooky for a horror author to possess such an ocular defect, but it's no fun for the owner of that rambling eyeball. Of course, I could yank out a couple of my teeth and be affectionately known as "that cross-eyed hillbilly horror writer".... but I think I'll pass on that honor.

I've been assured by specialists that my condition is probably hereditary. A couple of my uncles -- on both sides of my family -- suffered from Strabismus, and my Grandfather Spicer most definitely did. I have an old tintype of Pappy made in the late 1800's, smiling into the camera, one eye centered forward, the other wandering out in north forty somewhere. My condition has grown so severe that I tend to drive with my right eye and allow my other to relax and ride shotgun... sort of like some goofy dog with his head hanging out the car window. Actually, this is potentially dangerous, since it screws up my depth preception something awful. So... I finally decided to do something about it. This past Feburary, I made an appointment with John Bond, a leading eye surgeon in Nashville and sought out a solution for this annoying condition. This coming Wednesday I'll be going under the knife (yikes!) to correct my Strabismus. Dr. Bond (with his father assisting him) will be working on my left eye (the worse of the two) and will be shortening two or three of the extraocular muscles in order to tighten them up and reallign my eye. He hopes that correcting the left eye will "bully" the right into behaving itself. If not, I'll probably have to have similar surgery on my right eye somewhere down the road. Of course, I'm not all that crazy about being put to sleep (the first time I've been put under in my 49 years) and having my eye cut on. My thoughts always go back to that cliched horror device of the patient being anethesized, but not completely so, and in the middle of the operation, his mind screams "No! I'm really awake!" while the scalpel draws closer, ever closer. Pardon me while I do a full-body shudder here...

Dr. Bond tells me that recovery time is swift. I do the surgery Wednesday, go back to have my eye patch taken off Thursday, and it should be a done deal. I'd appreciate your prayers and good vibes, since it's always sort of tricky whenever anethesia and surgery go hand in hand.

Ol' Jack Elam made a career out of his wandering eye, but, as for me, I believe I'll do what I can and take the straight and narrow path. Eye-wise, that is.