Category:

Pardon Me, but Have You Seen My Eyeball?

10/29/2013

Tactful Juxtaposition in Horror

When you think about what scares you most in a horror story, what is the quickest to come to mind? Chances are, your mind’s eye will impose images of what should, under any normal circumstances, be the most unlikely of suspects. Children giggling, clowns smiling, dignified noblemen, perfectly sculpted topiary …the list goes on when it comes to imagery that, with just the right touch, goes from innocent or distinguished to downright terrifying. Place the giggling children in an otherwise empty haunted house; put a bit of blood on the clown’s suit; give the nobleman fangs; see the topiary move behind the protagonist’s back. It’s the dissonance between expectation and realization that creates the best kind of horror.

This holds true just as much with use of language as it does with use of imagery, which is why Gothic horror is (in my humble opinion) especially thrilling. While the necessary components—stormy/foggy weather, a castle or castle-like structure, a supernatural element, a maze (either literal or metaphorical) and a protagonist being pursued by some kind of monster—are dark and atmospheric in and of themselves, it is the language that seals the deal. The mesh of high literary form and supernatural evil works against a person’s sensibilities in the same way the giggle of a child possessed by pure evil might; it works much like dramatic irony, so effective because of the incongruence of elements.

Consider any of a number of passages written by the master of Gothic horror, Edgar Allan Poe. For an example, I’ve pulled a random stanza from his timeless classic, “The Raven”:

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
‘Wretch,’ I cried, ‘thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore.’

Look carefully at the language here. It is simple yet elegant, while uncommon and still fluid. Poe uses “Seraphim” and “angels” to raise (ironic) demonic imagery. He uses “nepenthe,” legendary and illusory, instead of using “forget” alone. Consider his use of alliteration: “swung” and “Seraphim”; “foot-falls” and “tufted floor”; “hath lent thee” and “has sent thee”; “nepenthe and thy”; “quaff” and “quoth.” These careful choices add an elegance to Poe’s words that make them all the more chilling.

I once conversed with another horror writer who insisted Gothic horror was, in his own language, “pretentious.” That word has stuck with me ever since. Pretentious. I must beg to differ. Gothic horror is sophisticated. It is complex. It contains a level of brilliance that might not be appreciable to fans of superficial horror—slash and dash, blood and guts, and such—and that’s okay. Literary is not everyone’s cup of oleander tea. With that said, I’ll take Gothic over gore any day.

It’s just scarier—in my humble opinion.

This blog post is part of Coffin Hop’s countdown to Halloween. There are tons of prizes up for grabs, so make sure to check out the many other participating authors’ blogs by going to www.coffinhop.com.

Also be sure to take a look at Coffin Hop’s benefit anthology, Death by Drive-In, the proceeds of which will go to the literacy program, Lit World.

What is your favorite kind or horror? Leave a comment for your chance to win a signed paperback copy of my Poe-inspired Gothic horror, Finding Poe, or an electronic copy of Death by Drive-In. Winners will be announced precisely at the stroke of the witching hour on Halloween ... unless the evil clown gets me. *insert evil laugh*

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Love the Atmosphere!

10/23/2013

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One of the aspects I love so much about Halloween is the ambiance that comes with it. I adore the cotton spider webs, the glow of Jack-o-lanterns, the witches, the goblins, and everything else that makes my favorite holiday so dark and spooky. It goes without saying that this is the time of year when horror authors shine their brightest.

I remember going all out one year in my outdoor decorations, making gravestones out of floral foam, buying dry ice to put in a cauldron on the porch, covering the entire front of the house with spider webs and plastic spiders, carving terrifying faces on the pumpkins, and compiling a track of midi horror songs. The display was so scary I answered the door to more than one parent who had to come to the porch in place of his or her child, who watched from a safer distance with friends or other family members.

When it comes to my choice in Halloween movies, I want just as much atmosphere. Give me Gothic castles, full moons, rolling fog obscuring dark nights, creepy music, and supernatural monsters. There’s something about watching Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein, or a good, old-fashioned Hammer film that really sets the mood. I also enjoy the themed episodes of my favorite television shows and the spirit of the horror authors’ community coming together to supply the unsuspecting reader with thrilling new stories to read.

This year, I’m happy to help Coffin Hop Press promote its Halloween benefit anthology, Death by Drive-In, the proceeds of which will be donated to the literacy program Lit World.

While I’m not a contributing author, I support the cause and am happy to be a part of this year’s Coffin Hop. Nearly a hundred horror authors are banning together to support Death by Drive-In and make your Halloween especially creepy, giving away books and other goodies—and giving you all sorts of chances to win. Go to www.coffinhop.com for a list of other participating authors.

For my part, I’m offering one reader a signed copy of my Gothic horror novel, Finding Poe, and another an electronic copy of Death by Drive-In, so make sure to leave a comment for your chance to win. I chose Finding Poe because I feel it's the embodiment of all I love about Halloween: it’s atmospheric, dark, creepy, and twisted. Inspired by the best works of Edgar Allan Poe, the story speculates how his own writing—most notably, his unfinished, untitled short story most of us know as "The Lighthouse"—may have contributed to his untimely death.

More about Finding Poe:

When reality and fiction collide, there's no telling what horrors might ensue.

In the wake of her husband's haunted death, Karina must sift through the cryptic clues left behind in order to solve the mystery behind his suicide—all of which point back to the elusive author, Edgar Allan Poe.

Karina soon finds that reality, dream, and nightmare have become fused into one as she journeys from a haunted lighthouse in New England to Baltimore, where the only man who might know the answers to her many questions resides.

But will she find her answers before insanity rips her grip on reality for good? Might a man she's never met hold the only key to a truth more shocking than even she could have imagined?

Finding Poe was a 2013 EPIC Awards finalist in Horror.

What do you enjoy most about Halloween? What are your favorite movies to watch and books to read during the spookiest month of the year?

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The Maelstrom and Finding Poe

10/2/2013

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Since its publication in early 2012, Finding Poe has been the subject of much speculation. It was a 2013 EPIC finalist in horror, won Indie Book of the Day, and placed 2nd in the 2012 Predators and Editors Readers’ Choice Polls. While it has been well received, some readers have questioned the repetition of Karina’s nightmare of the maelstrom. Since there have been more questions on this matter than actual debate, I thought I’d shed some light on the matter.

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

For those not familiar with Poe’s “A Descent into the Maelström,” it is a story within a story, told by one of the author’s tell-tale unreliable narrators, about a massive whirlpool that swallows his ship. He claims to be the only survivor, and he also claims that the event was horrifying enough to turn his hair white overnight. The story’s theme, as subtle as it may be, revolves around the appreciation for that which is greater than oneself. The narrator helplessly watches his brothers die, the enormous waves taking one before the vortex takes another with the entire ship—but he finds himself in a moment of clarity, awed over such a powerful force of nature and humbled by his own tiny presence in comparison.

The maelstrom plays an important role in Finding Poe, serving multiple purposes:

The parallel between its narrator and Karina strengthens the notion that she is an unreliable narrator. We don’t know who either really is. Is Poe’s narrator actually a fisherman who lost two brothers during a fishing trip? (Or is it more likely that either he’s covering up a murder—or just simply insane?) Is Karina a “Lady of Norland” as she claims, or is she also something far more chilling?

The story within a story hints as something much deeper than merely an unreliable narrator. Karina’s recurring nightmare—and sometimes seemingly hallucinogenic shift into an alternate reality—of the maelstrom, suggests that her perceptions might not be sound enough for the reader to trust. Even when she believes she is being sincere, her own senses betray her. She is not living in the world she thinks she’s living in. One might even go so far as to question whether anything she experiences—or claims to experience—is real.

Karina’s recurring experience parallels the cyclical nature of the maelstrom. Just as Poe’s narrator perceives an awesome greatness in the vortex, one that, in its cyclical nature, might represent the cyclical nature of life and death, Karina’s repeated experience—the cyclical nature of the story itself—offers a marriage of form and content that hints at information lying far below the text’s surface. Is Karina even alive? If not, what is her real story? Is she reliving her own death—or does her personal descent into the maelstrom represent something even more profound?

I invite those of you who have read Finding Poe to offer your own insights on this—but just don’t spoil Karina’s true identity if you’ve already figured it out. Piecing together the puzzle within the story is half the fun, you know. Her place, what she really means to Poe and his work, is what the story is really all about….

Excerpt—Karina’s descent into the maelstrom:

I turned back to the window, and it took a moment for me to process the strange sight. An enormous black bird kicked and flapped its wings against the glass, somehow keeping in perfect time with the moving train.

“I think it’s trying to get in, but it can’t … can it?” the woman asked, shying back in her seat.

I watched, silent. The bird’s wild, angry moves were hypnotic. I thought about my nightmare, about the impending doom promised to me, and I wondered if perhaps Death himself had been commissioned to track me down. No earthly bird would behave such a way, and I knew, given all I had recently seen, that was a personal omen if nothing else.

The woman frantically waved at the window, yelling for the bird to go away, but I watched silently, feeling quite assured that the bird was merely the harbinger of doom and not the actual purveyor of it. The woman’s shrieks—not to mention the reactions of other nearby passengers—began to come across as comical overreactions to a threat that existed in their thoughts alone. The bird continued to harass the window, but clearly it had no way in. I sat back and watched the different reactions, wondering how many people the bird would alarm before it finally ducked away to carry its grim message to the next sorry soul on its list.

“Someone needs to scare it away,” the old woman beside me finally suggested.

“It’s attracted to something inside here,” said someone else nearby.

“Or someone,” said the old woman.

“What would a crow want with any of us?” I asked, my voice trembling despite me.

“That there is a raven,” said the old woman.

“Whatever it is, what would it want with any of us?” I asked.

“Or we would ask, more specifically, what would it want with you?” the old woman asked. I realized that everyone in the car was staring at me. The raven continued to bat wildly against the glass. I tried to remain calm, but everyone began to move in toward me, giving me little room to shift. I felt a burst of nervous energy as the other passengers crowded all around me and suddenly I had no room to move at all.

Desperate for fresh air, the hot crowd leaving everything around me warm and stale, I attempted to push my way through. I could not see the door leading out, but I knew it was near. Each person I passed seemed to do his or her best to slow me down, grabbing at my clothes and blocking me with their bodies. After much grappling and groping, I finally made it to the door, only to find it locked.

The ride became unsteady, as if the train were suddenly traveling over heaps of rocks, then everyone screamed as we began to tilt to the left. I grabbed the nearest seat, doing my best to brace for the worst, when water broke through one of the windows. I watched a group of passengers fight the locked door while others attempted to flee through broken windows.

“Maelström!” one person cried.

Out here? I tried to make sense of it, realizing that it made no sense at all. I thought about a story I had read some time ago about a man who had thought he had awakened from a nightmare, only to realize that he was still dreaming. There was no other explanation in my mind that fit what I now witnessed, and I closed my eyes and allowed the water to rise over me, knowing very well that the dream would not be able to last much longer. I held my breath and shut my eyes as the current snatched my body and flung it into the sea. I felt my body float deep into the abyss below, bubbles rushing past me as they escaped the folds of my dress, my long curls tangling across my face.

The pressure against my lungs became great and the urge to exhale overcame me, but I couldn’t even see the surface from where I was and I had nowhere to take a breath. Unable to hold the air any longer, I expelled it, which provided a fleeting moment of relief. Immediately following that, however, there came the sudden and overwhelming urge to take in another breath, one I could not ignore. Left with no other choice, I took a thick, lung-flooding breath of water. To my surprise, I felt no pain, nor the reflex to cough; I merely had the urge to exhale again. A rush of water left my lungs, and then again, I took a breath.

I felt a warm, peaceful feeling take over me, relaxing my limbs and easing my fearful thoughts. My eyes closed and the sea went silent, and it occurred to me that I had drowned.

What a shame, I thought. Had I only known life was so short….

Finding Poe is available in paperback and Kindle.

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Fox's THE FOLLOWING was Brilliant, No Matter What Anyone Else Says

1/21/2013

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I could spend a few hours looking for photos that fall within public domain, but in this case, I believe content is more important than any possible pictures or files.

I sit at my desk, struggling to catch my breath, in awe over the literary brilliance that went into the first episode of Fox’s new series The Following. I have read pre-release reviews on the show, and they have been as varied as the speculations portrayed in Poe’s art. Denver Post television critic Joanne Ostrow writes, “[The Following’s creator] seems to be treading a familiar path but with a more adult sensibility. [Kevin Williamson has] left the vampires behind, kept the scream-worthy horror and added some smart plotting.” In stark contrast, The Washington Post’s reviewer, Hank Stuever writes, “…I realized: ‘The Following’s’ fundamental problem is neither its gore nor its brutality; it’s the display of arrogance. Tangled up in easily avoidable clichés of the genre, this is a show that is entirely too pleased with itself and its pretentious concept. It’s not that we’ve become numb. It’s that we’ve become dulled."

“Pretentious” is often a term used by those who are too ill-educated or unsophisticated to appreciate the brilliance or depth of a particular work. Stuever clearly doesn’t know his Poe, nor can he appreciate the literary merit that has gone into the series pilot. As both a well-read student of Poe and an artist, I can say with certainty that Stuver has no idea what he’s talking about. He’s poorly misinformed, a fact easily discerned by anyone who has any background in the genre.

It is with great irony that I begin with the response to the antagonist’s first novel, which he himself calls “literati pretense.” He understands the gap between art and perception, and the writers take this concept to its own level. Clearly, its naysayers have no clue of the brilliance they review. While they cover the ramblings of a madman, unaware of the literary implications, the most important being the realization of one of Poe’s greatest fears: falling into the chasm of insanity. Poe also often used the theme of the (often insane) “unreliable narrator” to express ideas far beyond the scope of his characters. Anyone who has studied Poe will know that the themes explored by The Following explores themes only barely touched by many of Poe’s works. “The Black Cat,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” and “The Raven” are three stories mentioned by name, but beyond story titles and thematic implications, the mere mention of these stories says something important about the series and where it is going.

Starting from importance, “The Tell-Tale Heart” hints at the physical issues implicated through other characters’ dialog. Retired FBI agent Ryan Hardy obviously has some kind of health issue related to his heart, an issue that will surely reveal itself in greater detail in episodes to come. Ryan is also a clear parallel to Poe’s deductive amateur detective Auguste Dupin.

The symbolism included in the series premiere is as important as any other aspect one might analyze. Hardy’s discovery of not only Carroll’s part in the continuing murders, but the connection to Poe’s works in his followers, suggests “The Murders of Rue Morgue,” as well as other prominent Poe works. The significance of “Rue Morgue” demonstrates the implication of Carroll’s ability to reduce his followers to the mental state of an orangutan—capable of great destruction but unaware of the effects of their mayhem.

By connecting the murders with the unfinished work, Poe’s “Lighthouse,” the writers make a point about the power of words. Poe died after writing three pages of “The Lighthouse,” and yet Carroll is able to harness the power Poe has left behind and use it against his fellow man. There is repeated reference to “The Black Cat,” as well as reference to the often poorly understood “The Cast of Amontillado.” By referencing the lost clues that might reside behind closed walls, the story's authors offer deep commentary on what is versus what is perceived, an offshoot of Poe’s strong themes of the unreliable narrator. When Carroll refers to Hardy as “the flawed hero,” he speaks not only of the ex-agent who has lost sight of his greatest nemesis’ intent. This, of course, plays upon the literati philosophy of author intent. The gay couple draws attention from the babysitter, the babysitter represents the “unfinished work” portrayed in Poe’s unfinished short story “The Lighthouse,” and Carroll’s antagonistic leads play against Hardy’s predetermined views about the serial killer and the power he holds over all he’s affected.

The only other thing made clear is that Carroll is intent on creating a Poe-inspired masterpiece of his own by riding the coattails of the Gothic horror master. Whether or not he will succeed lies in the hands of The Following’s writers. I suspect they have a decent idea of what they’re going. Whether or not the general audience will identify with the brilliance the writers are tapping into remains to be seen.

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Happy Birthday, Edgar Allan Poe!

1/18/2013

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Edgar Allan Poe was well known for his critical reviews of other authors, and to pay homage, I’ve decided to offer a critical review of what I believe to be one of his most provocative short stories, “The Pit and the Pendulum.” While Poe’s reviews were often scathing, I felt it more appropriate to celebrate his birthday with something a bit more praiseworthy and analytical.

In “The Pit and the Pendulum,” Poe uses hellish visuals to portray the irony of religious justification for torture and death. His unnamed protagonist first describes his physical response to the “inquisitorial voices” sentencing him to death. His senses fail him before he falls into a mild hallucinatory state, at which time one must consider the possibility that Poe is using his common tool, the unreliable narrator. This works to the benefit of the story, however, allowing one to regard the entire work as an opinion piece.

The narrator describes,

I saw, too, for a few moments of delirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment; and then my vision fell upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white slender angels who would save me: but then all at once there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fibre in my frame thrill, as if I had touched the wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaningless spectres, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help.

Here, the seven candles represent the Catholic pontifical high Mass, which is commonly associated with the Pope. It is in the above passage where he makes clear his intentions in writing this story. When he describes the candles as “angel forms [that] became meaningless spectres, with heads of flame,” he juxtaposes the holy with hellfire, a visual that will prove to be a recurring theme throughout the work.

The narrator falls into a fugue state, which he can only compare to death. Poe writes,

I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of it there remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all was not lost. In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon -- no! In death -- no! Even in the grave all was not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterwards (so frail may that web have been) we remember not that we have dreamed.

The narrator’s inability to define or describe his experience represents the unknown and the uncertainty of what lies beyond death. Through his perceived encounter with those sanctified by the Catholic Church, our protagonist loses his faith in the divine. He further exemplifies this ironic event in his confusion over what exactly he has encountered: “In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon -- no! In death -- no! Even in the grave all was not lost. Else there is no immortality for man.” By claiming, “Even in the grave all was not lost. Else there is no immortality for man,” the narrator is defining the moment in which he feels forced to question the afterlife. He compares the encounter to a dream immediately forgotten upon waking, bringing death to a strictly physical level and abandoning any spiritual connection. He elaborates upon this sentiment when he soon thereafter describes the experience as “some token of the state of seeming nothingness into which [his] soul had lapsed.”

Illustration courtesy of MacFran:
http://macfran.deviantart.com/

Poe cleverly offers a sense of confusion over the narrator’s unreliability when he comes upon a brief moment of clarity. He describes, “I brought to mind the inquisitorial proceedings, and attempted from that point to deduce my real condition. The sentence had passed, and it appeared to me that a very long interval of time had since elapsed.” Here, he recalls his sentencing, but also questions the state in which the shock of that sentence had imposed upon him. He exemplifies this by adding, “Yet not for a moment did I suppose myself actually dead. Such a supposition, notwithstanding what we read in fiction, is altogether inconsistent with real existence; -- but where and in what state was I?” By specifically referring recorded experiences of death as “what we read in fiction,” he denies any supernatural connection to said experiences. His additional observation that it might be “altogether inconsistent with real existence” fortifies the idea that there is a clear divide between his perceived and actual occurrences.

The narrator, upon gaining full consciousness, finds himself in a pitch-black dungeon, which he describes as difficult to gauge in shape and dimension. This, of course, works as a parallel to the indeterminate size and shape of our universe (which remained an enigma at the time of this story’s creation), his imprisoned world suddenly reduced to the same level of uncertainty. He clarifies the nature of his prison, however, after again falling unconscious and waking to find the dungeon lit just enough for him to gauge his surroundings. He describes it as “a wild sulphurous luster” with an “origin of which [he] could not at first determine.” By describing the vague light source as having “a wild sulphurous luster,” he incorporates sensations most often associated with Hell, and by adding that the origin was one “of which [he] could not determine,” he makes clear the ethereal ekphrasis intended.

When Poe introduces the pendulum, he provides an interconnection between time and death, insinuating the finiteness of all life. He describes the pendulum as “a painted figure of Time as he is commonly represented, save that in lieu of a scythe he held as a casual glance I supposed to be the pictured image of a huge pendulum, such as we see on antique clocks.” By meshing the traditional images of (pendulum) and death (scythe), he alludes to the association between the two; both are inescapable and both play against one another in the eventual mortality of all humans. Many attempt to diffuse their fears over the two through faith, but again, perception and reality do not always go hand in hand.

Poe further alludes to this connection when his narrator describes, “there had been no perceptible descent in the pendulum.” Like watching a child grow or a person age, the perception is not one that can be viewed in one moment to the next. One might as well attempt to watch the grass grow. Old age creeps upon us all, and youth falls to the wayside before it can be fully appreciated. Death, as inevitable as it is, often seems distant until nearly the moment it strikes. Most of us think little about our mortality, or the finality that may come with death, until we’re forced to, as Poe’s narrator exemplifies, “For the first time during many hours, or perhaps days, I THOUGHT.” It isn’t until the pendulum has nearly reached him that he is able to ponder both its implications and his possible escape.

Poe returns to allusions of the battles resulting from the Inquisition when he brings the rats inhabiting the dungeon to the forefront. The narrator describes,

I had not counted in vain upon their voracity. Observing that I remained without motion, one or two of the boldest leaped upon the frame-work and smelt at the surcingle. This seemed the signal for a general rush. Forth from the well they hurried in fresh troops. They clung to the wood, they overran it, and leaped in hundreds upon my person.

Notice the choice in language here: the “general rush” and the “fresh troops.” Poe clearly depicts war through the garish guise of vermin warming a man on the brink of death. Still, his narrator survives, patiently waiting for their assault against his flesh to weaken also the ties that bind him, only to describe the horrors that ensue:

I had scarcely stepped from my wooden bed of horror upon the stone floor of the prison, when the motion of the hellish machine ceased and I beheld it drawn up by some invisible force through the ceiling. This was a lesson which I took desperately to heart. My every motion was undoubtedly watched. Free! I had but escaped death in one form of agony to be delivered unto worse than death in some other.

Image courtesy of Ryan Russell.
Click on image for more information.

Here, one might find a correlation between the assumed all-seeing eyes of God and the narrator’s torturers: “My every motion was undoubtedly watched.” The pendulum ceases as soon as he slips from his binds, and he anticipates a new level of suffering to replace the old. The “lesson which [he takes] desperately to heart” compares to the canonical “lesson[s]” anyone might derive from any given religious text.

When the torturers are finally revealed, the narrator describes “Demon eyes, of a wild and ghastly vivacity, glar[ing] …in a thousand directions where none have been visible before, and gleamed with a lurid luster of a fire that I could not force my imagination to regard as unreal.” The description here is more ethereal than it is earthly, turning men into demons, meshing the imagined with inescapable reality. Those trusted with the position of punishing the condemned are no better than those deemed the heathens they have sentenced; human and demon become one in the same. Poe ensures his message is clear by describing his torturers as “most demoniac of men,” and by transforming the stone walls of the narrator’s prison as “burning iron” ever closing in on his protagonist.

When he rouses from his imagined hell, the protagonist realizes “the fiery walls rushed back” and he is still on the battlefield, fighting alongside General Lasalle of the French army, driving those fighting for the Inquisition into submission. This reversal of roles here is key to the story. By shifting the narrator’s hell into reverie, Poe merely shows that he portrays one side of a complicated story. More importantly, he illustrates the atrocities that might exist due to something as menial as a difference in belief. The enemy is always the demon, and his domain is always Hell, and it is only human nature to dehumanize he whom one currently fights against.

Works cited by link:

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01347a.htm
http://www.literature.org/authors/poe-edgar-allan/pit-and-pendulum.html
http://macfran.deviantart.com/
http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/edgar%20allan%20poe

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Contest: How Many Poe References Can You Find?

1/17/2013

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As most of you already know, my Edgar Allan Poe-inspired novel Finding Poe contains references to over twenty-five of his best (but some not so well known) works. Are you a Poe fan? Think you can name the most references?

If so, send me a private message with your list using the web form on my Contact page. The winner, whom I’ll announce at the end of the month, will receive a signed paperback copy of Finding Poe, a signed cover art postcard, and a cover art refrigerator magnet.

Remember, Finding Poe is only $0.99 on Kindle through the anniversary of his birthday (January 19).

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It's Poe week at BOOKISH FRIENDS!

1/16/2013

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Do you love Poe as much as I do? If so, you'll enjoy this video released today through Bookish Friends. It opens with avid reader Bunny Cates reciting Poe's haunting poem, "Alone," and then cuts to a mini biography of Poe's writing and motivations recorded by yours truly.

Thanks again to Bunny Cates for inviting me to join in on this fun, Poe-filled venture!

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I’ve Had Poe on My Mind

1/14/2013

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With the anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe’s birthday coming up, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about his life and his amazing collection of short stories and poetic works. Most people think of “The Raven” or “The Tell-Tale Heart” when they think of Poe, but those who have read a decent sample of his writing know that he was as eclectic and innovative as he was prolific. Although my favorite works of his all fall under his vast umbrella of horror, he also wrote strange tales, humor, and detective mysteries (he was the inventor of the deductive sleuth).

It seems I’m not alone in seeing Poe as a creative inspiration. Last year’s The Raven came out shortly after I released Finding Poe (you can read my review of the film here) and the Poe-inspired Fox television series The Following premieres later this month. Although The Raven and The Following are vastly different from Finding Poe and each in their own way, both incorporate elements of his most well known works.

The muses hit me with the idea for Finding Poe after I had read (or re-read) a number of his short stories, and in order to do the best justice to my tribute, I read and studied literally every work of his that I could find. PoeStories.com is a great resource, as is The Literature Network, and you can find several free or low priced Poe short stories and poetry collections for your Kindle at Amazon. Not every work he wrote is brilliant, and a handful of his short stories are downright awful, but they’re worth sifting through.

In honor of Poe's upcoming birthday, I’m reducing the Kindle price for Finding Poe to $0.99 through January 19. His is a legacy that few other authors have achieved, and I’m proud to be among the writers and artists who have strove to pay him his due homage. Happy reading—you might want to leave more than one light on.

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Pardon Me, but Have You Seen My Eyeball?

Love the Atmosphere!

The Maelstrom and Finding Poe

Fox's THE FOLLOWING was Brilliant, No Matter What Anyone Else Says

Happy Birthday, Edgar Allan Poe!

Contest: How Many Poe References Can You Find?

It's Poe week at BOOKISH FRIENDS!

I’ve Had Poe on My Mind

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