Post by Mark Sieber on Dec 16, 2018 16:17:00 GMT
I've been rereading a lot of books over the past few years. I'm reaching an advanced age where I remember the gist of novels I read decades ago, but many of the details are forgotten.
I've decided to devote much of my reading time this Winter to rereading beloved books from the past. From the days when my passion for horror fiction was new.
This isn't merely to live in the past. Sure, it's partially that, but I want to ignite the love I had for the genre then. I have found myself becoming jaded. Bitter. Cynical. Cynicism can wring the joy out of life. Hopefully this will help me to appreciate the current horror releases more.
I want small towns. Long novels. I even feel nostalgic for evil children and Indian Burial Grounds. I am weary unto my soul of nihilism, buckets of inane gore, and just plain uninspired writing. There were bad books aplenty back then, but an astute reader could spot them a mile away. Now people call that stuff "Paperbacks from Hell", and revere them.
I read McCammon's Stinger a couple of weeks ago. I bought it when it came out as a first edition paperback in 1988. I loved it then. Maybe not as much as Swan Song, but a hell of a lot. I don't see Stinger being discussed as much as other McCammon titles, but I think it's one of his most entertaining books. It's a SF-action story, but as with any McCammon work, it's more than that.
One of the favorite reading experiences of my life was King's Christine. I was living on a cold workboat at the time, and I stayed up late shivering over it. The sage of the doomed friendship of Arnie and Dennis struck a deep chord in my heart. It did then, and if anything, it does even more so today. I finished reading Christine last night. I think it's the third time for me. Fourth if you count audio.
Next up is Straub's If You Could See Me Now. Peter Straub has always blown me away. He can be a bit obtuse for me at times, but his early horror books are all magnificent. If You Could See Me Now is one of his most accessible novels, and I would highly recommend it to those curious about his work.
Potential titles on my list for this Winter include Ramsey Campbell's The Doll Who Ate His Mother, James Herbert's The Rats, Thomas Tessier's Phantom, John Farris' The Fury, T.E.D. Klein's The Ceremonies, and Alan Ryan's Dead White. And Charles L. Grant. Always Charles L. Grant.
I've decided to devote much of my reading time this Winter to rereading beloved books from the past. From the days when my passion for horror fiction was new.
This isn't merely to live in the past. Sure, it's partially that, but I want to ignite the love I had for the genre then. I have found myself becoming jaded. Bitter. Cynical. Cynicism can wring the joy out of life. Hopefully this will help me to appreciate the current horror releases more.
I want small towns. Long novels. I even feel nostalgic for evil children and Indian Burial Grounds. I am weary unto my soul of nihilism, buckets of inane gore, and just plain uninspired writing. There were bad books aplenty back then, but an astute reader could spot them a mile away. Now people call that stuff "Paperbacks from Hell", and revere them.
I read McCammon's Stinger a couple of weeks ago. I bought it when it came out as a first edition paperback in 1988. I loved it then. Maybe not as much as Swan Song, but a hell of a lot. I don't see Stinger being discussed as much as other McCammon titles, but I think it's one of his most entertaining books. It's a SF-action story, but as with any McCammon work, it's more than that.
One of the favorite reading experiences of my life was King's Christine. I was living on a cold workboat at the time, and I stayed up late shivering over it. The sage of the doomed friendship of Arnie and Dennis struck a deep chord in my heart. It did then, and if anything, it does even more so today. I finished reading Christine last night. I think it's the third time for me. Fourth if you count audio.
Next up is Straub's If You Could See Me Now. Peter Straub has always blown me away. He can be a bit obtuse for me at times, but his early horror books are all magnificent. If You Could See Me Now is one of his most accessible novels, and I would highly recommend it to those curious about his work.
Potential titles on my list for this Winter include Ramsey Campbell's The Doll Who Ate His Mother, James Herbert's The Rats, Thomas Tessier's Phantom, John Farris' The Fury, T.E.D. Klein's The Ceremonies, and Alan Ryan's Dead White. And Charles L. Grant. Always Charles L. Grant.
