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Post by Hip Pocket Sleaze on Jan 14, 2012 12:46:45 GMT
Thanks for the nice in-depth review of my book HIP POCKET SLEAZE that appeared in the new issue....much appreciated.
Regarding the review - yes, it would have been nice if I could have updated the book somewhat before it went to press, unfortunately time didn't allow it. After waiting so long for the book to finally appear, in the end all I really had time for was a quick proofread and corrections of some dates, etc. I was afraid if I got too stuck into updating the book it might have delayed its appearance even more, and I also feared that once I started doing a few minor rewrites it would snowball into a major revision, which would delay it's publication yet again.
Still, I am very happy and proud of the way the book has turned out and it seems to be doing quite well. Now that Headpress seem to be back into full-swing I hope that a follow-up volume might appear sooner rather than later....
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Post by Hip Pocket Sleaze on Aug 22, 2011 7:59:49 GMT
Forgive the shameless plug but I am very pleased to announce that my new book HIP POCKET SLEAZE has been published and is now available exclusively from Headpress in the UK. I believe it should be available on Amazon and select stores and other online retailers in the coming weeks, and in UK stores around October.....Press release is below... New from Headpress: HIP POCKET SLEAZE The Lurid World of Vintage Adult Paperbacks by John Harrison DRUGS! INCEST! WITCHCRAFT! SADISTIC NAZIS! SEX-STARVED HOUSEWIVES! BRITISH BIKERS! And More..... Your comprehensive guide to the original pulp fiction Nearly 400 pages bursting with timeless smut... An essential companion to the Bad Mags books... Click here to buy Hip Pocket Sleaze for just £14.39 ( headpress.com/ShowProduct.aspx?ID=98 ) Click here to watch an outrageous selection of Hip Pocket Sleaze illustrations in our exclusive photobook ( www.worldheadpress.com/hip-pocket-sleaze-sample-photobook-203 ) Click here to learn more about Hip Pocket Sleaze author John Harrison ( www.worldheadpress.com/john-harrison-196 ) Click here to read an exclusive extract from Hip Pocket Sleaze, When Softcore Hardened and the Sleaze turned Sick ( www.worldheadpress.com/hip-pocket-sleaze-extract-202 ) HIP POCKET SLEAZE is an introduction to the world of vintage, lurid adult paperbacks. Charting the rise of sleazy pulp fiction during the 1960s and 1970s and reviewing many of the key titles, the book takes an informed look at the various genres and markets from this enormously prolific era, from groundbreaking gay and lesbian-themed books to the Armed Services Editions. Influential authors, publishers and cover artists are profiled and interviewed, including the "godfather of gore" H. G. Lewis, cult lesbian author Ann Bannon, fetish artist parexcellence Bill Ward and many others. A companion to Bad Mags, Headpress' guide to sensationalist magazines of the 1970s, HIP POCKET SLEAZE also offers extensive bibliographical information and plenty of outrageous cover art. Find out more about Hip Pocket Sleaze at Worldheadpress Headpress ( www.worldheadpress.com ) Suite 306, 2a Abbot St. London, E8 3DP, UK Office: +44 (0)208 888 0781 / Orders: 0845 3301 844 Attachments:
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Post by Hip Pocket Sleaze on Mar 23, 2011 11:42:38 GMT
Is this review by John "Hip Pocket Sleaze" Harrison? And if so, please tell us if Headpress are ever going to publish the book Hip Pocket Sleaze?!?!? Ha, yes Justin it's me! As for HPS how knows? It's featured on the 'coming soon' page on the HP website and David has told me he's trying to dedicate this year to catching up on overdue books, so who knows?! Of course I'll let you know when I have any concrete info.... Cheers, John
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Post by Hip Pocket Sleaze on Mar 22, 2011 4:48:05 GMT
My own review of Killer Crabs:
KILLER CRABS by Guy N. Smith (1978/New English Library/UK)
Often downgraded as the poor man’s James Herbert (The Rats), Guy N. Smith was one of the most pure pulp writers of the 1970s. With no pretence to literary art, Smith authored some of the most visceral, arousing and downright exciting horror novels from that era, all of which were tailor made for the paperback medium.
A published writer from the age of 12 (when he contributed to his local newspaper), Smith had a career in banking forced upon him by his father, before he broke the shackles with his first book Werewolf by Moonlight, published by NEL in 1974. It marked the beginning of an intensely prolific career for Smith, who now has over 60 horror novels to his credit, not to mention a number of crime thrillers (he wrote a serial killer book, The Hangman, under the pseudonym of Gavin Newman), and his 1996 volume Writing Horror Fiction (A&C Black), a how-to manual for aspiring writers wanting to break into the genre.
Killer Crabs was the second and best of Smith’s series of Crabs books (the original, Night of the Crabs, having been published in 1976), and provides a great summation of his prowess as a writer. The premise of the series is one of pure B-grade schlock: an army of giant, ravenous crabs bob up from time to time at various exotic locales around the globe, wreaking havoc and snacking on the locals.
After being driven out of Wales in the first novel, the crabs this time resurface in the sunny far north of Australia, where they settle down to spawn in the mangrove swamps not far from the popular Hayman Island holiday resort. After treating us to an expected opening chapter crab attack (aboard a small fishing trawler), Smith settles in to introduce us to his cast of cliched but delightfully sleazy characters, including Klin, the ruggedly-handsome, G I Joe - type action man, big game hunter Harvey Logan, British scientist Clifford Davenport (returning from the first novel), and holidaying sexpot Caroline du Brunner, who beds everything in sight bar the crabs, and whose sexual adventures Smith details with an enthusiastic gusto that would have doubled the pleasure of any young male who had picked the book up expecting a mere horror story.
‘Klin began to push forward with his thighs, slowly and purposefully at first, then speeding up as his tension mounted. Her eyes were closed. She was breathing heavily, her whole body stiffening, jerking, convulsing inwardly. Her legs shot upwards bicycling, faster and faster, and her fingernails tore viciously at his shoulders and back. Seconds later she was going crazy with passion beneath him, pushing her thighs at him, grinding her pubic bone on his as she sought desperately for an even deeper penetration.’
The scenes of carnage in the book are equally exciting, as the crabs multiply at enormous rate and move inlands towards the resort, a trail of death and destruction littering their wake. Smith revels in describing these scenes with a sadistic glee, bringing forth images of a gaudy, EC-inspired 1950s horror comic, as this passage describing the demise of a Japanese fishing captain amply illustrates:
'The crab was astride the captain, its legs holding him firmly, whilst the pincers, almost delicately, explored his body in search of another limb to amputate.
Helplessly the crew watched, some of them being sick with revulsion. It reminded them of a spider finding a fly caught in its web, and instead of devouring it immediately preferring to torture its victim by ripping off a leg at a time.
The severed wrist still spouted blood, a bright red fountain which sprayed over the crab, rendering it an even more horrific spectacle. Almost effortlessly the pincer found the shoulder joint and with a loud crunch removed the whole arm. Then, seconds later, the captain’s other arm suffered an identical fate.’
With its winning combination of action, gore, sex and never a dull moment plot, it’s surprising that an adaptation of Smith’s crab paperbacks never made it to the cinema (or even the straight-to-video shelf). With the plethora of shoddy Jaws clones that were festering flea pit cinemas during this time (Tintorera, Grizzly, etc.), I would have thought that a film about man-eating crabs would have had every cigar chomping schlock producer foaming at the mouth (I can just see the poster, depicting a horde of the ugly titular creatures emerging from the red-tinged surf, a screaming, bikini-clad young woman clenched between the triumphant claws of the leader crab!).
Reviewed by John Harrison
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