The Rising Of Deadite Press

 Today I want to write about a certain joy I'm experiencing knowing that the old Leisure Books horror stable has, to some extent, been replaced by Deadite Press.

I was a member of Leisure's horror book club, and got small orgasms when their monthly box of books lobbed against my door. It's not often that horror comes to you in a surprise package like the one Leisure used to send. For their troubles, I paid them about twelve bucks a month. Hardly a fortune considering the work that goes into a book. I wasn't a fan of all the Leisure authors, and I must admit I read a dozen pages of some books and abandoned them. That was rare, though.

When it comes to horror, some themes just don't float my boat these days. I take a dim view of voodoo stories and voodoo rituals. Fuck off with that. I'm almost beyond being convinced to read another haunted house story. They've been done to death -- literally. Perhaps that's why writers keep writing them. It's arrogance. A belief that their haunted house story will be a fresh one. I'm sure it can be done, but it's hard to work up the energy to read another. New zombie stories are still appearing on bookshelves. I avoid them. Zero interest. Vampires? Time to lay them to rest for a while. Twilight pussified the genre while broadening one side of its audience. The side with vaginas and braces.

If you're on the fringes of or deep inside the horror community, you probably know about the demise of Leisure and the company's shabby treatment of its writers. Film distributors treat their filmmakers like this pretty much all the time, so Leisure's disrespect for writers didn't seem too shocking to me. Terrible, yes, and unforgivable, of course, but not shocking to someone who's been fucked upside-down and sideways by film distributors. Some Leisure authors such as Brian Keene, Bryan Smith, and JF Gonzalez extricated themselves and their book rights from Leisure and fled to Deadite; others are still untangling the mess Leisure left them in. There are rumors, however, that Amazon may offer refuge and some outstanding checks. I wish these folks well.

Deadite Press is an imprint of Eraserhead Press, the home of the Bizarro genre, and base of Bizarro Central. Deadite is releasing both new books and re-releasing older books. Some of Leisure's old horror titles are turning up on Deadite in refined versions with vivid new covers and in trade paperback size. As far as I know, Deadite doesn't have a monthly book club set-up, but their books are very reasonably priced and can be accessed via a link on their site. The link usually carries you through to Amazon. Titles I've purchased recently have been Like Porno For Psychos (Wraith James White), Genital Grinder (Ryan Harding), Hero (JF Gonzalez/White), The Cage (Brian Keene), The Dark ones (Bryan Smith), All You Can Eat (Shane McKenzie), and Take the Long Way Home (Keene).

The presentation of their books and cover art is really impressive and provocative; you get the impression that the folks behind Deadite really do give a flying fuck about what they're doing. Their love shows.  I've yet to see any crappy art like the shit poor old Ray Garten had to endure with Leisure's release of Bestial and Ravenous. Masterton's Blind Panic got fucked up the nasal passage, too. Gary A. Braunbeck's Coffin County paperback had a cover that was conceptually strong but poorly executed. It would hardly have jumped off the shelf at you.

To be fair, Leisure, under editor Don D'Auria, did a lot of things right, too, by getting behind some terrific writers and bestowing some books with potent cover art. Now, some of these guys and gals might argue that Leisure got close enough behind them to slip an unwanted penis (at least financially) into any available orifice, but it needs to be said that Leisure did create a profile for authors like Keene, Smith, Gonzalez, and Wrath James White, a profile that's enabled them to soldier forth into brighter theaters of literary combat. Sad really that it all had to end in a sweaty clusterfuck. Still, these four and others have migrated to Deadite and word from them has been that Deadite are good people whose definition of getting behind you involves check writing, promotion, and timely sales reports instead of fiscal rape.

 

Leisure's very impressive cover art for Lee's The Golem.

 

The not-so-striking art for Braunbeck's Coffin County.

I hope anybody who gives two hoots about horror gives Deadite a decent shot. I don't work for them, have no professional affiliation with them (not yet, anyway!), and don't receive free books for review. I just wanna see 'em doing well... because, if they're doing well, you're getting good horror at a bargain price. That's nothing to blow snot at.

Deadite Press Gears Up

 
One of the saddest horror stories of 2010 was the demise of Leisure Books' horror line and ousting of editor Dan D'Auria. For several years, Leisure published two paperback horror novels a month from literary luminaries such as Brian Keene, Wrath James White, JF Gonzalez, Bryan Smith, Edward Lee, Ray Garton, Gord Rollo, Richard Laymon, Simon Clark, Mary Sangiovanni, Tim Lebbon, and many others.  I was a member of their horror book club and always looked forward to the thud of that cardboard box of pulp goodness on my doorstep. When they started sending me books from other publishers, I smelt a James Herbert-sized rat. 

For many of Leisure's authors, the end, like most ends, was a messy affair. Advances had not been received. Pending releases hung in holding patterns. Anger spilled over into blogs.

With 2011 now upon us, so is some very good news. Deadite Press, a specialty publisher with solid horror bona fides, has embraced and will be releasing the past and future work of Leisure lifeboat authors Brian Keene, JF Gonzalez, Bryan Smith, and Edward Lee, to name a few.

Deadite is already an active horror publisher and has demonstrated a healthy jones for extreme, wild, and deliciously subversive material. They also publish works from Bizarro writers such as Carlton Mellick III (Apeshit), AndreDuza (Necro Sex Machine), Adam Pepper (Super Fetus), and Robert Devereaux (Slaughter House High).

 Upcoming novels from Deadite include re-publishings of the Guy N. Smith-inspired Clickers books (there are two so far)  from JF Gonzalez -- if you haven't read his Survivor, you ought to, because then you'll know what it feels like to be ass-raped through your eyes. Jack's Magic Beans is coming from Brian Keene; and Bryan Smith has Highways to Hell, a new short story collection, and The Killing Kind 2, on the way.

Baby's First Book of Seriously Fuck-Up Shit, by Robert Devereaux, sounds like a must-read based on  title alone; it hits stores in March. Other upcoming Devereaux titles include Santa Steps Out, Santa Conquers the Homophobes (a certain reader of this blog had better watch out!), and Book Three of the Santa Chronicles

Wrath James Wright, who wrote the troubling Succulent Prey, has His Pain out in September, and Population Zero available for immediate fondling.

 Already available from Deadite and recommended is Edward Lee's Trolley No. 1852, a tale so much in the Lovecraftian tradition, it's backstory is that it was written by Lovecraft himself when he was skint. From what I've heard, the dark scribe was skint most of the time. The stories within this framework involve a strange sex club that smells like a more gentlemanly version of Ray Garton's den of slut vampires in Live Girls. By gentlemanly, I'm not suggesting that nothing much happens in Lee's club but cigar smoking and cricket chat --  on the contrary, much perversion occurs, but it's seen from Lovecraft's more sexually conservative point of view, and not described with the relish Mr. Lee is famous for.

Leisure has gone, but Deadite survives, and should thrive with its new roster of warped wordsmiths.  

 

Here's a more official rundown of the blood-, gore-, and semen-soaked magic upcoming from the publisher:

February
Urban Gothic by Brian Keene
Jack’s Magic Beans by Brian Keene
Clickers by J. F. Gonzalez and Mark Williams
Clickers II by J. F. Gonzalez and Brian Keene

March:
A Gathering of Crows by Brian Keene
Take the Long Way Home by Brian Keene
Baby’s First Book of Seriously Fucked-Up Shit by Robert Devereaux (a new collection of short fiction)

April:
Highways to Hell by Bryan Smith (a new collection of short fiction)

Coming later in 2011

The Corporation by J. F. Gonzalez
His Pain by Wrath James White
The Killing Kind by Bryan Smith
Freakshow by Bryan Smith
Depraved by Bryan Smith
Dark Hollow by Brian Keene
A Gathering of Crows by Brian Keene
Darkness on the Edge of Town by Brian Keene
Castaways by Brian Keene
Ghost Walk by Brian Keene
Ghoul by Brian Keene
Dead Sea by Brian Keene
Kill Whitey by Brian Keene
The Conqueror Worms by Brian Keene
The Conqueror Worms: Selected Scenes from the End of the World by Brian Keene
The Rising by Brian Keene
Walking Wounded by Robert Devereaux
Santa Steps Out by Robert Devereaux
Santa Conquers the Homophobes by Robert Devereaux
Book Three of the Santa Chronicles by Robert Devereaux

Bentley Little - The Ignored?

I love this image from the paperback edition of Bentley Little's The Ignored (Signet; June, '97).

The book takes an extraordinary conceit and turns it into an extraordinary novel.

The carousel has nothing to do with the book. It evokes creepiness, as anything carnival-esque often does, and it renders a foreboding atmosphere.

There a lot of Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes in that cover. A feeling that trouble is on the horizon.

How do you graphically represent a subculture of people who are, literally, invisible those around them? How do you portray The Ignored?

In this case, Signet decided not to.

Although the carousel and coloring is impressive, it's also generic. Because it's so unspecific, it gives the browser no idea of what's inside the book in terms of story.

Does such a tactic miss the opportunity to connect with readers who are unfamiliar with Little's work?

You tell me.

The back cover circles the concept by personalizing one man's dilemma -- nobody notices him. It does not propose the premise in a more general sense such as:

"What if nobody noticed you anymore? Would that make you angry? Or would that make happy? Think of the possibilities. If you really were ignored, you could get away with murder."

That's the premise in a nutshell, but the blurb doesn't go there.

Should it?

I'm curious because The Ignored has been ignored by many horror fans. Along with The Mailman (my favorite Little book) and The Store, it's in my top trio of the author's amazing works. But when I mention it to colleagues or on-line buddies, few have read it.

I sense that Little himself gets ignored by the horror community. Am I right or wrong? You guys are part of the horror community, so fess up. Is Bentley Little on your radar?

Little isn't active on on-line forums and blogs like authors such as Brian Keene, Jack Ketchum, Bryan Smith, Edward Lee (to some extent) and Michael Laimo.

Leisure's stable of writers make their presence felt on-line. Writers like Little and John Saul do not.

Saul had an active forum at one time, but he scaled it right back. There are some websites devoted to Little, too, but they're infrequently updated. There is no dedicated web presence.

I consider myself a very dedicated fan, and I actively follow new and old authors. My sense is that Little is doing himself no favors by maintaining an MIA status on-line. Am I off the mark?

Today, I think an on-line presence for an author is essential. A presence in one place propagates to others.

Stephen King has an official site. If there's anybody who could justify not having an official web presence, it's King, but he has one, anyway, because it keeps the King brand in the stratosphere.

MacDonald's do the same thing. Do they NEED to advertise that they exist? Not necessarily, but they keep on advertising because they have competition. They advertise to keep the brand (and brand loyalty) at a healthy fever pitch.

I'd like to see a stronger Bentley Little web presence because I think his work is amazing.

Admittedly, I don't always like the way he rushes to resolve his stupendous premises, but I'm totally drawn to his perverse imagination, and his black as pitch humor.

He's up there with the finest writers of the fantastique in the world.

Little is with Signet, not a publisher associated in the public mind with horror. Saul is with Ballantine, a publisher of mass market fiction; they publish horror, but they're not known for it. And much of their horror has been shifted to the "Fiction" list.

Leisure Books, on the other hand, is strongly identified with horror (at least for fans), even though they have robust Romance, Western and Thriller imprints; their parent is Dorchester.

Bentley Little's work gets very decent distribution; I can always find his titles at Borders or Barnes and Noble. Sometimes he's in "Horror", often he's in "Fiction". Since "Fiction" is a larger category and more diverse, that may be a better thing for him.

Here's the crucial question: Is the web pointing readers to writers they don't know, or is the presence of an author's book (in sufficient quantities) on physical bookshelves enough to drive sales?

I say Yes to the first question, and No to the second.

There is an interesting assumption when one sees many copies of a single author's book. To me, at least, it indicates popularity. Demand. But it's not enough these days because on-line retailing is booming while in-store sales are receding like George Costanza's hairline.

Let's return to Stephen King once more. He's everywhere. His books are so plentiful they cause the shelves to sag. Few authors have the shelf sagging weight of Stevie. His competitors can only attempt to shift attention from the mighty K-L category of horror authors which now includes King and Keene, Koontz, Ketchum, Laymon, and Little. Despite his power to splinter the timber of bookshelves, King remains a potent web presence.

The rumpus on Little is he's a shut-in, a reclusive fellow who prefers not to spend his precious time on planet Earth on-line. He wants to focus entirely on writing. Nothing wrong with that.

But if the wordsmith who's been called a "master chef of the macabre" and "the horror poet laureate" by Mr. King wants to elevate his "brand" in the horror and general book buying community, a web home is essential. How the web home is managed is up to the author and/or publisher, but it's a necessary evil than can no longer be... ignored.

Am I off base?

Sit Right Back and You'll Hear A Tale...

Brian Keene's latest, Castaways (Leisure, '09), is a very entertaining read in the hardcore tradition.

Echoing reality TV, Series 7, Punishment Park, and Battle Royale, its greatest debt (stylistically) is to Richard Laymon.

A Writer's Tale

Bryan Smith's "Soultaker" (Leisure; 2009) has just hit the shelves and I'm enjoying it immensely; the opening chapter gets so much right about the birds and the bees. The author's "Depraved" will follow later in the year. I'm hanging out for that.

While reading "The Freakshow" (Leisure; 2007), also from Mr. Smith, my mind kept drifting back to a disturbing sequence from Richard Laymon's "The Woods Are Dark" (Warner Books; 1981). "Woods" was the late, great writer's second novel and it was butchered by its publisher.

Still, it had a strong impact on me.

From the first page:

Neala saw it, too. She hit the brakes. Her friend thrust a hand against the windshield as the car jerked to a stop. In front of them, the legless thing dragged itself over the road with powerful, hairy arms. "What the fuck is it?" Sherri muttered. Neala shook her head. Then it faced them.

***

It fumbled at an opening in its furry vest. A pocket? It pulled out a severed human hand, kissed its palm, and tossed it. The hand flipped toward Neala. She ducked her head, felt it in her hair, and knocked it aside. It fell into the gap between the bucket seats. The legless thing scuffled off the road and disappeared into the forest.

Isn't that great? The "legless thing"? The imagery that conjures! It's beautiful. The feelings it stirs! Ah, what delicious terror this is. What is it about a legless, misshapen sack of flesh and bone that spears us in the pleasure center? Why does the tossing of a severed hand at another human being seem so...right?

Laymon really nails it. He loved the freaky, the malformed, and the misunderstood. He shed tears for the denizens of the dark. When I read "The Wood Are Dark" for the first time, I felt like I was in the company of family.

The two books are very different, but they share a deep love for the grotesque and they're big on unspeakable monstrosities.

Clearly inspired by Todd Browning's "Freaks", Smith delights in imagining his freak-infested milieu, and his creations invite sympathy as much as horror. But they are driven by a force that distinguishes the story from others.

The cover art for Smith's book is slick and inviting. The size of Smith's name suggests that he's becoming a brand. His "Deathbringer" and "House of Blood" earn a byline, too.

Brian Keene, another writer from the Leisure stable, and one more established than Smith, has a quote on the cover.

It is not uncommon for authors from the same publishing stable to promote each others books.

As much as I enjoyed the subject matter of "The Freakshow", I felt it lacked contrast. It was "All Freaks, All The Time", and some of the weirdness just got overwhelming and repetitive. Still, I like Smith very much, and it's clear that he writes from a dark, bloody heart.

Contrast the reverential cover treatment Leisure gave Mr. Smith with the appalling presentation given Mr. Laymon.


It's important to note that Warner had recently made a killing with Laymon's "The Cellar", one amazing debut novel, so the author was deserving of some respect, right?

Wrong.

Laymon's name is much smaller than the title and you have to squint to read "author of The Cellar", which was a best seller. There's nothing there to grab your attention. The green foil doesn't help, either.

Just as unforgivable is the nonsensical, grammatically ridiculous blurb:

"Only fools stay in Barlow, the town the Devil built, when night falls and...The Woods Are Dark".

What clown wrote that?

Clearly, Warner had no idea how to sell this novel. They hired some hack to come up with a phrase that incorporated the title. It didn't have to make a jot of fuckin' sense.

And what the hell is that illustration buried between tree branches supposed to be?

Well, you have to flip the book over to find the answer to that.


Then there's this quote...

In Laymon's out-of-print autobiography, "A Writer's Tale" (Deadline Press; 1998), easily one of the most honest books on writing and publishing you will ever read, the author admits that the Hirschfeld quote didn't come from Hirschfeld at all; he'd never even read a Laymon novel.

Regarding the importance of cover art, Laymon had this to say:

Read this closely:

Well, the Warner Books cover of "The Woods Are Dark" did destroy the author's career (in America) for a very long time. Although publishers did release some of his books, the runs were short and publicity was minimal.

Luckily, he was embraced and treated with enormous respect and affection by British publishers in the decades to follow.

Recently, Leisure Books has been releasing US editions of the late author's extraordinary work, including a brand new edition of "The Woods Are Dark" that restores it to its original state.

It's nice to see that while Mr. Laymon is resting (or is that restless?) in pulp purgatory, the printing presses are not.