|
Post by dem bones on Mar 7, 2009 14:33:55 GMT
Don't Go To The Horror Convention All looking forward to Brighton in March 2010 are we? Think it's all gonna be buckets, spades, Kiss Me Quick hats, Mr. Whippy and cheeky Ellen Datlow and Lisa Morton burying a snoozing Steve Jones in the sand on behalf of Shocklines - Won't he be cross when he wakes up! Think again Think very again .... Karl E. Wagner - Neither Brute Nor Human: Why do we put ourselves on display just so an effusive mob of lunatic fringe fans can gape at us and tell us how great we are and beg an autograph and ask about our theories of politics and religion?"Fantasy authors and leftover hippies Damon Harrington and Trevor Nordgren strike up a friendship at Discon II in Washington 1974, when they are both still relatively unknown outside of MF&SF and Orbit, although Nordgren also has a published novel, Acid Test, under his belt ("a Lancer paperback, badly drawn psychedelic cover, bought [by Harrington] from a bin at Woolworth's ..). By the second World Fantasy Convention in New York two years later, their careers are taking off, and Damon is paraded as one of "Fantasy's new faces." The moderator had obviously never heard of Damon Harrington, introduced him as as "our new Robert E. Howard" and referred to him as David throughout the panel ... Most of the discussion was taken over by something called Martin E. Binkley who had managed to publish three stories in minor fanzines and to insinuate himself onto the panel . Nordgren was quite drunk at the outset and continued to coax fresh Jack Daniel's and ice from a pretty blonde in the audience. By the end of the hour he was offering outrageous rebuttals to Binkley's self-serving pontification; the fans were soon loudly applauding, the moderator lost all control, and the panel nearly finished with a brawl." And so we follow them, from convention to coke 'n booze fueled convention as the pair attain stardom, Harrington becoming the biggest selling fantasy author of his day and a household name into the process. His Desmond Killstar series is followed by Death's Dark Mistress, the first of the hugely successful Krystal Firewind (the cover blurb proclaims him "America's Michael Moorcock"). But Harrington can't help noting the worrying decline in his friend's health. From the first, Nordgren has maintained that the author-audience relationship is one of mutual, psychic vampirism, and at the World Fantasy Con in Miami he discovers just how right he was all along. Wagner's brief Afterword/ Disclaimer is fully in keeping with the grim black comedy of the thing and, in view of the tedious Stephen Jones versus Shocklines handbags, it's as relevent today as it was a quarter of a century ago. Neither Brute Nor Human also appears in Wagner's peach of a collection Why Not You And I?Sydney J. Bounds - A Complete Collection: Pulp author Michael Cox is ambushed by his number one fan at the World Fantasy Convention in London and can’t shake him. Jonathan Jamieson also has a morbid obsession with Egyptian burial practices …. Christopher Fowler - The Luxury Of Harm: The narrator persuades Simon, his old school friend and partner in mayhem, to attend a Horror Convention at Silburton, Somerset. This year's theme is "Murderers On Page And Screen" and our man makes sure the conversation turns toward who in the room would make the most likely serial killer. There's a lovely pop culture moment in this one, too. "And through the mist I gradually discerned a splendor figure, his head lolling slightly to one side, one arm lower than the other, like the skeleton in Aurora's 'Forgotten Prisoner' model kit, or the one that features on my copy of The Seventh Pan Book Of Horror Stories." That reference to the Pan's is apt: this would have suited one of the Van Thal's just so. Colin Graham - The Best Teacher: Gareth Gwynne, successful horror author, is addressing a writers circle, among them the one-armed Sadelin (the name's a giveaway) who has a deep interest in his work. Gwynne takes an instant dislike to Sadelin but is browbeaten into accepting his offer of a lift to the station. Sadelin confides that he too writes terror tales though he's yet to be published. If Mr. Gwynne would be so kind as to read his manuscripts ... he will? How very kind! We'll just take a detour to my house to pick them up. Back at the house, one drugged Whiskey later and the author is tied down on a metal table. Sadelin fetches his tool-kit. He isn't really a fan of horror authors after all! Sean Parker - Death-Con 1: Ha! I'm sure anyone who's attended a Fantasy Convention or Society meeting that didn't go so well will readily identify with protagonist Robert Neville and wish they had the guts to address a 'Tasmin Saylor' figure as he does! Even so, i'm kind of glad he gets his just desserts in the dealers room. I mean, wiping out the author of "the most important addition to the literature of the fantastic since the Gor novels"? What was the mad bastard thinking
|
|
|
Post by David A. Riley on Mar 7, 2009 14:44:32 GMT
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. And not totally off target either. I've been to numerous conventions in the past, starting with Eastercon in 1970, but have safely avoided ever going on a panel, doing a reading or any such daftness - and have usually learned better than to go into the main hall during such things until there's something worth being there for, like the raffle, spending my time either in the book room, the art show or, surprise, surprise, that most congenial of places, the bar. David
|
|
|
Post by andydecker on Mar 7, 2009 15:00:21 GMT
I love the Wagner story. On one hand it makes conventions much more interesting then they are, on the other it makes some very apt remarks about the genre-publishing industry.
I wonder what Wagner would thought about the paranorma romance craze ;D
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Mar 7, 2009 15:26:21 GMT
From his wonderful introductions to the 'Years Best horror' books, he seems to have been very tolerant and amenable to all forms of fantasy and horror, so my guess is he'd have written a Paranormal Romance of his own. A very subversive Paranormal Romance, but one still recognisable as such. Scratching up more convention terror tales to add to the list, but maybe one or two of our creative members might like to try their hands at a story relating the horrific events at Brighton Shock, March 2010?
|
|
|
Post by benedictjjones on Mar 7, 2009 16:15:57 GMT
i recently read about a convention where there was a serious car crash and karl e wagner rushed outside (looking like a hells angel) and quickly diagnosed the mans injuries (being a trained MD) and telling the paramedics before heading back in to the bar!
|
|
|
Post by marksamuels on Mar 7, 2009 17:22:59 GMT
There are a couple of other horror convention tales:
"British Horror Weekend" from the recent Cemetery Dance anthology BRITISH INVASION. I haven't read this and the author is "Anonymous"...
Then there's my own "The Cannibal Kings of Horror" from my collection GLYPHOTECH. By the way, if anyone wants to read the story drop me a PM and I'll send it over by email.
Mark S.
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Mar 7, 2009 19:29:14 GMT
Another one. In Robert Bloch's ETFF, 'Pete Deglar' a visitor from across the galaxy, is sponsored by The Extra Terrestrial Tan Fund to attend a Sci-Fi Convention in Connecticut (Con-Con). He arrives by flying saucer and hooks up with friendly hippie types who show him the ropes. Bloch names-checks several genre giants - Ursula LeGuin, Frank Belknap Long, Philip Jose Farmer, Lester Del Rey - works in plenty of in-jokes ("a group of fans explaining to Marty Greenberg how to edit an anthology") and even dares a swipe at militant feminists on the discussion group for women writers ("Everyone knows Hugh Gernsback was a male chauvinistic pig .... Just remember, it was we who put the Gal in Galaxy!)" Omitted this from the initial list because nothing remotely horrible happens to the intergalactic little creep, and we can't be having anyone enjoying themselves. It wouldn't be right.
|
|
|
Post by lobolover on Mar 7, 2009 21:47:11 GMT
Omitted this from the initial list because nothing remotely horrible happens to the intergalactic little creep, and we can't be having anyone enjoying themselves. It wouldn't be right. Aye, im bringing me needles and me amateur dentist kit to ensure that, just show me the way to all them d**n geeks! and exactely why is d-a-m-n a "bad" word? People dont get offended by that anymore, not since 1900.
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Mar 19, 2009 9:55:14 GMT
Mark Samuels - The Cannibal Kings Of Horror: The delightful Death Con-1 notwithstanding, possibly the most splenetic tale in our imaginary anthology to date. It's the British Horror Society Convention at the Commonwealth Hotel, Birmingham, and John Scanlon, professional average horror fan (greasy haired, no dress sense, no girlfriend, NSOH, etc) is nervously looking forward to meeting his hero, Edmund F. Bertrand, misanthropic author of genre classics Destination Nihil, The Upside Down Laughter, Mr. Agony has Returned, There is No Release save in Oblivion and The Corpse Brotherhood amongst others. Despite universal scepticism that he'll even bother to show up, Bertrand arrives, albeit late and drunk, and immediately launches a salvo at the writers panel, reserving his most spiteful barbs for the appalling next-big-thing in waiting, Martin Goring. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong; your crummy website is littered with photos of you draped all over your ever-more famous ‘friends’ and stuffed with descriptions of your time spent hanging out with them. One by one you leave old friends behind as they become of no use to you. I know it’s now common practice for careerist authors to do this, but it stinks. You, in particular, seem to totally get off on it. You’re a f**king vampire. That’s all you are.” After the dust has settled and much to Scanlon's astonishment, Bertrand, who had once answered his fulsome fan letter with a diplomatic 'piss off and never write me again', not only allows his 'number one fan' to buy him a drink, but also to witness his predictably obnoxious interview technique. He even lets him in on the truth as to how such a soulless, talentless crew as Goring and his cronies can make it to the top of the horror game, little realising that Scanlon is bent on grabbing a piece of that action whatever the price. Scanlon defects to the welcoming arms of the unctuous Goring whose superficial camaraderie is easier to go along with. After all, not only has Bertrand earned the enmity of everyone on the 'scene', but those in the know are agreed his day is over. By Convention's end, Scanlon, under Goring's tutorage, has acquired a passable suit, a trophy Goth girlfriend (Amelia De Richlieu, famed for her erotic vampire stories), gained acceptance into the hub of the genres thirteen best-selling authors and gone from no-hoper fan who writes badly on indifferent websites to potential new British Horror Society Grandmaster. All this, and a final opportunity to pick his ex-hero's brains ..... As I read this phantom faces from vampire events and horror book launches past swam in and out of vision, never quite materialising for long enough that I could pin a name to them, or at least, that's what I'm going to tell you. Karl E. Wagner having got us off to such a flier, The Cannibal Kings Of Horror provides a perfect, ghoulish note to go out on - there's something in there to make everyone squirm. It's stuff like this has me crawl to the keyboard most every day.
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Jan 30, 2011 21:21:30 GMT
This pair are - ho ho - slightly un-conventional yet both seems right for this thread somehow. In Ramsey Campbell's ace supernatural horror novel Ancient Images, Sandy Allen's attempts to track down the print of cursed Karloff-Lugosi vehicle Tower Of Fear leads her to Chingford and the bedsit power-base of Walter 'Wally' Trantom. It's 1989, the Hamlyn nasties boom is in its death throes, so Trantom, whose notable works include The Slobbering and It Crawls Back Up You, is no longer convention material and Sandy has to settle for the next worst thing - a home visit. As an added bonus, Trantom has also invited the two obnoxious young sycophants who edit his Gorehound fanzine. To a backdrop of female screams from the tv (from what little information we're given, they're watching either the uncut Father Malarkey's Succubus or Tranton and friends have somehow got their hands on an early rough of Big Tits Zombie), poor Sandy struggles to get a word of sense from the trio who suspect her of being in the pay of the British Board of Film Classification and therefore bent on censoring all they hold dear. An exasperated Sally leaves them to it, heads off home in the night. A skeletal something detaches itself from the shadows ... Tina Rath - Untitled ( Velvet Vampire XV, Winter, 1991): The way of it was this. During a weekend at Whitby. the Vampyre Society ran an impromptu short story competition, the rule being that the entries must contain the words "velvet, diaphanous, sanguine, death, lupine, pale, fearful, delicate, violet, and crucifix" Mrs. Rath won with this snappy offering. Truth by told, the illiterate wannabe vampire vermin concerned has exhausted the Convention circuit almost before we've begun, but .... Wannabe undead Kevin Chope has grown disillusioned with with the vampire scene. The Dracula Society is "too intellectual (Kevin's word for boring)", the Vampyre Society treat it as a bit of a lark, and as to those rather disturbing Montague Summers casualties with their stakes and mallets .. So our lugubrious friend takes his search for a Miss Fangy to evening classes and Mr. Varney's 'History and customs of Transylvania' course, never once suspecting that this stuffy academic with the leather patches on his sleeves is ... one of them! Kev meets his end Midnight Mess fashion, when, Mr. Varney, understandably sick of his wretched pupil, invites him for a drink at The Sanguine Incisor - "'Bloody Fang' to you my boy" - where he's held down for the barmaid to ram a spigot up his jugular. 'It's Exhibitionists like you who spoil it for people like me" seethes Varney, "You never were vampire material you know.' As a neat parting shot, Kevin's relieved mother redecorates his room, rents it out to a nice, presentable accountant!
|
|
oatcakeredux
Crab On The Rampage
I STILL know where the yellow went.
Posts: 41
|
Post by oatcakeredux on Feb 14, 2011 20:16:26 GMT
Kim Newman - Quetzalcon
This nasty little story, presented in the form of a booklet/schedule for the eponymous convention in honour of best-selling fantasy hack Kingston Dunstan, perhaps tips its hand a little too early (the convention film programme doesn't so much subtly hint as shout at the top of its lungs), but it's a neat little piece of grisly black humour, with maybe - just maybe - something interesting to say about fandom and its approach to celebrity.
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Oct 21, 2011 14:36:55 GMT
a belated thank you for putting us onto this one, oatcake. i'd not realised Quetzalcon is available on Mr Newman's Johnny Alucard site. It's not dissimilar in sentiment (and plot) to Mark Samuels' later The Cannibal Kings Of Horror, though Newman treats the exercise as a bit of a jolly, whereas the Pitbull's novella oozes real bitterness, snarling resentment and unconcealed malice - it's great! Coatlicue, Chairperson, High Priestess & senior groupie, is well drawn but Cannibal Kings ... has by far the more charismatic male lead in Edmund Bertrand, so i'm afraid Kingston 'The King' Dunstan's bones will have to be content themselves with a place on the subs bench next to Mrs Rath for the time being.
|
|
|
Post by noose on Oct 21, 2011 17:57:01 GMT
If I may add one of my own?
Johnny Mains - Bloody Conventions
Jonathan Raven, the organiser of Broomhall's infamous Terror-thon has asked horror author Richard Norton if he would come to the convention as a guest, speak at a few panels and sign books for the fans.
Richard happily agrees and takes the three hour train journey from Effingham, and after he has a pee and opens the toilet door to get out, one of the staff members crashes into him with a very heavy food caddie, throwing him back into the toilet and knocking him out. Concussed, he is helped by a concerned passenger and when the train arrives into Broomhall he gets a taxi straight to the King's Hotel, feeling a tad woozy.
Arriving at the hotel the idiot on the door doesn't seem to know who Richard is and charges him the full day rate to go in. He stops in at the dealers room and buys a couple of Kurt Singer anthologies and then goes through to the main room where the mass signing is happening. Things go from bad to worse however when Jonathan Raven doesn't recognise him and says that he cannot possibly be THE Richard Norton because Richard is already at the convention. A confrontation with his doppelganger is on the cards and as events spiral out of control it's plain to see that Richard hasn't been asked along as a guest, he's lunch...
|
|
|
Post by dem bones on Oct 22, 2011 10:04:54 GMT
On this evidence, eating one another is mandatory at these Brit-based conventions (deliver your own punchline) ..... Another, this from the BFS's Dark Horizons #18, 1978 John Heron, ed - Dark Horizons #18, British Fantasy Society, July 1978) Dave Carson J. G. Heron - Editorial
Fiction -
David A. Sutton - Ben's Beeches Ken Dickson - His Winter Hobby Ken Cowley - Dracula Reflects Mark Clay - Shulungu Ray Panhandler - The Lurking Shadow On The Threshold Of The Shunned House's Doorstep (The Big Heap): With biographical notes by Adrian Cole.
Articles -
Peter Valentine Timlett - The Magic Of The Imagination Mike Barrett - Sturgeon In Perspective: "The Passion, The Magic And The Outrageous."
artists. Dave Carson, Jim Pitts, Alan Hunter.Ray Panhandler - The Lurking Shadow On The Threshold Of The Shunned House's Doorstep (The Big Heap): With biographical notes by Adrian Cole. "I sent a little something along to HERB VAN SNARL for the Pain book of Horror Stories once. It was about a mutated gorilla with six mouths that disembowelled a coach load of tourists and ate their heads." "Was it accepted?" "No, it wasn't sadistic enough."Ray Manhandler, Private Dick and pulp novelist, is approached by a hunchbacked client with three eyes who is plagued by nightmares in which multi-tentacled monstrosities burst from the attic to ravish her on the bed. She wants to know if he can prevent her waking up before they get started. Manhandler, having read The Screams In The Nuthouse and The Call of Yoo-Hoo in dime magazines like Weedy Tales, is well up to scratch on the blasphemous cult of the Great Mouldy Ones and agrees to take the case. His investigations lead him to a preposterous building where SF authors - including such luminaries as Eddie Gherkin - and sundry acolytes of Yoo-Hoo are holding their annual shin-dig ....
|
|
|
Post by Dr Terror on Oct 22, 2011 12:16:00 GMT
"I sent a little something along to HERB VAN SNARL for the Pain book of Horror Stories once. It was about a mutated gorilla with six mouths that disemboweled a coach load of tourists and ate their heads." "Was it accepted?" "No, it wasn't sadistic enough." Thanks for sharing that, Dem.
|
|