The Chronicle is Back!

Way back in the mid-1990s, during my brief six-year tenure as a mass-market paperback author with Zebra Books, I began a newsletter called The Fear County Chronicle. Like most writer newsletters back then, it mainly consisted of one or two pages of current news concerning my writing career at that point and upcoming projects and publications. And, as there was hardly any internet or email to speak of back then, it was intended as a mail-out. You’d type them up, print up fifty to a hundred copies, and mail them out, which could be pretty expensive, even at 32-cents a pop. Between 1994 and 1996, I put out eight Chronicles in all.

The last one I put out was the Spring/Summer issue of 1996, announcing the upcoming release of Blood Kin in June of that year. Little did I know, that would be the final issue of FCC and Zebra Books would abruptly shut their horror line down in October. I was suddenly without a publisher and any potential publishers were shunning horror fiction as if it were pure poison. After several months of trying to break into other genres without success, I grew bitter and disillusioned, and stopped writing for ten long years

When I came back to the horror genre in 2006, I considered bringing the Chronicle back, but the motivation or opportunity was never there. I was too busy trying to reestablish myself in a genre that seemed to have evolved rapidly during the last 120 months. So, I decided to put it on the backburner until it was the right time.

So, guess what? The time is finally here! You hold in your (I almost said hands!) screen the inaugural issue of the new and improved Fear County Chronicle. As you scroll, you’ll find news about current and upcoming book releases, works in progress, and maybe an excerpt from a book that is on the horizon. So, without further hesitation, let’s chase the rabbit and see what hole he takes us down…

The Silver Shamrock Fiasco: My Thoughts

So… it’s been a few weeks since one of my most promising publishers, Silver Shamrock Publishing, called it quits. The circumstances are pretty well known in the horror community, but for some reason very little has been said about it since then. Given that this was a very prominent publisher in independent horror and its demise was devastating for many authors and loyal readers, I believe it should be acknowledged and discussed. For those who weren’t privy to that very turbulent and stressful weekend (and there are more out there than you think), here’s what unfolded.

The publisher, Ken McKinley, posted the back cover synopsis of an upcoming book by veteran author Gene O’Neill called The White Plague Chronicles on several social media platforms. The unfortunate wording of that synopsis hit a nerve in the Twitter horror community, which ignited a firestorm of accusation and controversy. Many labeled the content of the post as having white supremacist leanings and, so, the publisher, the author, and the book were also accused of such. Within hours, support for Silver Shamrock swiftly began to go down the drain. Several online reviewers vowed to never again read, review, or support books published by SSP and authors began to withdraw their books and upcoming projects from the publisher. Having faced heat for a similar incident months before concerning trigger warnings, the publisher then decided that he had simply had enough and abruptly shut his doors.

Many have asked me “Ron, what did you think of all this and how did it affect you? Given that Silver Shamrock was one of my biggest publishers and I had numerous upcoming projects scheduled with them, it pretty much hit me in the gut like a sucker punch. My EC Horror-inspired ghost story collection, Haunt of Southern-Fried Fear, had been released by SSP no more than the week before, and it was selling strong and gaining momentum when all this went down. Also, SSP was committed to publishing all five volumes of my new Western-Horror series, The Saga of Dead-Eye. They had already published Book One and I was looking forward to Book Two coming out by the end of the summer. There were also several projects I had yet to announce that had suddenly gone off the rails. So, the news that Silver Shamrock was no more (and I heard the news from several fellow writers, and not directly from the publisher himself) was sad and disturbing. Did it devastate me? No. Having been in the horror business for 36 years, I had already gone through my fair share of publisher shutdowns (seven, to be exact). So, I was better prepared than many of Silver Shamrock’s authors were. Fortunately, no more than an hour or two elapsed before David Niall Wilson and David Dodd of Crossroad Press came to the rescue and my SSP titles had a new home to go to (the majority of my eBooks, paperbacks, and audiobooks have been published by Crossroad for the past twelve years, so I had the utmost confidence that they would handle The Essential Sick Stuff , The Saga of Dead-Eye series, and the Southern-Fried EC series in the same respectful and professional manner they have with the others in my backlist.)

So, do I think the publisher is racist, as he was accused of being? I’ve known Ken McKinley for going on three years now and I’ve never seen any indication of him saying or doing anything that would label him as such. Is Gene O’Neill racist? I knew of Gene back in the early 90s, but only in a professional capacity and not personally, so I can’t say for sure. What about the book, The White Plague Chronicles? I have no answer or opinion on that, either, for the simple fact that I haven’t read the book, so I have no idea if the synopsis that was posted on Twitter accurately describes the content within. I’m not openly defending or condemning the ones at the center of that controversy of a few weeks ago; I’m merely giving you my impressions. So, please, don’t kindle up the bonfire and break out the marshmallows for roasting. Believe it or not, everyone is entitled to their opinion and I’m no exception.

I must take a moment to thank Kenneth W. Cain, who donned the Superman cape and came to the rescue of all of the Silver Shamrock authors. Kenneth didn’t have to step up and handle the reversion of rights and the transfer of formatted work to the publishers who gave the authors and their books a new home… but he did. And that reveals volumes about the man. Not only is he one of the best and most thorough editors in the business, but he’s a decent, kind-hearted fellow as well. Thanks, Kenneth, for making the SSP fiasco less painful and the transition to other publishing houses so much easier. You and your efforts are - and always will be - greatly appreciated.

Upcoming Releases

So, what does Ol’ Ron have in store for you in the coming months? Let’s take a look!

After The Burn: The Illustrated Edition

One of my most notoriously extreme story collections, the post-apocalyptic After the Burn, will soon be rereleased by D&T Publishing in a new ebook, paperback, and hardcover edition boasting seventeen interior illustrations by artist Zach McCain.

D&T will do the cover reveal of ATB on May 20th, followed by its release on Godless on May 27th and finally Amazon on June 10th. I’m looking forward to seeing this book available again, in paperback particularly. And, just maybe, it’ll whet your appetite for the sequel - a full-length novel starring many of ATB’s heroes and villains - titled After The Burn: Exodus in 2023.

The Dark’Un paperback edition

For the first time since it was published as Something Out There in 1991 by Zebra Books, my novel The Dark’Un will be released in a new paperback edition with a striking cover by Zach McCain. This book will contain the original Zebra novel in its entirety, as well as a bonus novella, Of Crows and Pale Doves. Crossroad Press will be releasing the book in mid-summer, hopefully around the first of July.

Southern-Fried & Horrified

On September 6th, Stygian Sky Media will be releasing my memoir and writing guide, Southern-Fried & Horrified. This one has been a long time coming and will detail my early years as a monster-loving kid, my aspirations of being a comic book artist in high school, as well as my long journey toward fiction publication, the Zebra years, the implosion of the horror genre in the mid-90s, my ten-year hiatus from writing, and my return in 2006. It is also peppered throughout with writing advice (Grits & Bits), my favorite books, movies, and writing influences, and a number of essays. And wait until you see the incredible cover by Justin T. Coons!

Tales from the Southern-Fried Crypt

The second book of the Southern-Fried EC Comics-flavored collection, Tales from the Southern-Fried Crypt should be out in October, just in time for Halloween. Like Haunt of Southern-Fried Fear was devoted to ghost stories, Tales will feature swamp/bayou/voodoo stories told by your host, the Old Storyteller. Also, like Haunt, the second installment in the series will feature an incredible horror comic cover from Alex McVey and black and white comic book illustrations by Ol’ Ron throughout. And don’t forget to look for those cool retro comic book advertisements in the back of the book.

The Saga of Dead-Eye, Book Two: Werewolves, Swamp Critters, & Hellacious Haints

I’m currently at work on Book Two of The Saga of Dead-Eye series. I’m running a little behind on this one and am at the halfway point (it was supposed to be submitted to Thunderstorm Books in February!). It’s coming along great. The zombie gunfighter Dead-Eye and the Louisiana mojo man Job are fleshing out more and more as engaging characters and this book takes you out of Georgia and Tennessee, into Missouri, Arkansas, the Indian Territories, Louisiana, and Texas. Of course, the demon-possessed horse, Brimstone, and the kindly, but deadly mule, Balaam, accompany our heroes every step of the way.

The following is an excerpt from Chapter Eight, as Dead-Eye and Job cross over into the Indian Territories of what is now known as present-day Oklahoma:

They had ridden a couple of days across flat, desolate terrain, when something ahead stopped them in their tracks. It was a small circle of black the size of a silver dollar hanging, suspended, in the air, six feet from the ground. The edges of the hole crackled with blue sparks as it spun slowly, then gathered speed.

          “You reckon that’s…?” Job began.

          Dead-Eye nodded grimly. “The Hole Out of Nowhere. Wonder who’s coming to visit this time?”

          They sat on their mounts and waited as the hole gradually widened and lengthened until the bottom of the portal met the earth. From the darkness within emanated a warm dankness and a nasty stench like the killing floor of a slaughterhouse. Then, from within, someone emerged.

          The being was tall, perhaps seven feet in height or more. He was dressed in a long, black cloak that extended from his narrow shoulders to his ankles, and upon his head was an equally black hat, flat brimmed and rounded at the peak like a Quaker’s. There was no flesh or muscle upon his face or frame. Only bones, slickened with blood and gore, shown from within his dark clothing. Beneath the shadow of his hat, the fiend’s skull leered, grinning. The sockets of its eyes were black and bottomless, like the pit of some infinite well. Around his lean waist was a sash and bag, and he held a long scythe in one skeletal hand, also constructed of bone and dipped in glistening ichor.

          “Who the hell are you?” asked Dead-Eye flatly.

          “I am Alkor Rank, the Bone Harvester,” he said. His voice was coarse and had a peculiar, melodic ring to it, like wind whistling through the hollow of empty, marrowless bone.

          “That’s a mouthful to be referred to,” the zombie told him. “Being dead and all, my memory for names is a mite faulty. I reckon I’ll just call you Bloody Bones instead.”

          The gunfighter’s statement seemed to vex him. “I am not a tale told to frighten young children into submission or favorable behavior! You have no notion of the thousands I have conquered, both in my realm and your own. Mongolian raiders, Roman centurions, Greek Argonauts… all have fallen beneath the sweep of my blade and the armies I have sown and brought forth.”

          “And you were sent to confront and defeat us?” asked Job. “By who?”

          “The enchantress Evangeline warranted your demise,” Alkor Rank told him.

          “And for what payment? Our souls?”

          The crimson skeleton laughed. “I have no want for souls. My needs are more substantial… more physical than existential. Upon your deaths, I shall split your flesh and claim your bones for my bounty. To build the structures and pave the streets of my kingdom, as I have done generation upon generation before.”

          “Sorry,” said Dead-Eye. “But we wouldn’t get much further without a frame with which to hold us up.” He drew the Colt Dragoon from its holster and held it aloft, barrel pointed skyward. “Now crawl back into that stink hole of yours and allow us be on our way.”

          Alkor Rank found humor in the threat. His mirth boomed across the open prairie like the rumble of thunder. “I believe not, fool. The end of your passage is at nigh. I shall depart only with your bone and life, and you shall lay flaccid and defeated upon the ground where you stand.”

“I reckon I could empty this here pistol into you and reduce you to a broken heap with no trouble a’tall,” Dead-Eye told him. “Now, do as I say. Back off!”

          The Bone Harvester shook his bloody skull, weary of their resistance. “Your petty weapon with its fire and smoke and impotent load will do me no harm. I shall call forth the dead of the earth and they shall fight for me. Those who have tasted the bitter wine of death and can die no more.”

          Alkor Rank’s slender arms emerged from the sleeves of his black cloak and, wielding the scythe, he dug a long furrow in the dry, hard dirt of the land. He then took the black bag from his sash and opened it. His bloody hand dipped inside, bringing forth a generous fistful of what looked to be human teeth. Carefully, he sowed the bits of bone into the depths of the furrow and covered the dirt over with the flat of his blade.

“This is sacred ground upon which we stand,” the Harvester told them. “Trodden by a displaced people of noble blood. Men, women, and children driven from their homes by the hatred of the pale-fleshed man. They marched under duress, mile upon mile, and many fell to despair and disease, upon their mournful trail of tears. Those who I call forth were mighty warriors… the protectors and slayers of their tribe. As they shall slay you now and end the trail upon which you travel.”

“Can’t say that I like what this is amounting to,” Job said beneath his breath. He watched the earth where the teeth had been planted. It was still at first. Then the dirt began to slowly buckle and rise.

To Be Continued…

Tomes of Terror! / Nightmare Fuel from Indie Authors

 A Bouquet of Viscera by Bridgett Nelson (self-published): Does anyone out there realize how much I love this book? Because I really, really love this book. First, there’s Lynne Hansen’s incredible cover and interior artwork boasting beautiful flowers constructed from vintage autopsy drawings. Then there’s Todd Keisling’s impeccable interior design work. It also has a foreword by some Southern-Fried dude that calls people “hoss” and “folks”, and wears big, rattlesnake-infested cowboy hats. But it’s Bridgett’s stories that make this one of the genre’s most talked about collections. No holds are barred and no punches pulled with these gruesome and ghastly tales that will make your skin crawl and your stomach somersault like an Olympic gymnast.  

Only Psychos by Daniel J. Volpe (D&T Publishing): With Only Psychos, Daniel Volpe channels the mastery of Jack Ketchum and Richard Laymon to craft a terrifying journey into madness and brutality all his own. Intense and uncompromising, Volpe’s latest tale of horror secures his standing as one of the genre’s most promising new storytellers.

The New Girl’s Patient by Ruthann Jagge (D&T Publishing):  Ruthann Jagge's The New Girl's Patient is an unrelenting journey into rural horror with no brakes applied from beginning to end. Both brutal and poignant, it delivers terror and unabashed emotion in equal measure. A riveting and unforgettable tale by a true lady of the
genre.

Well, That’s the end of this edition of the The Fear County Chronicle. I hope you folks enjoyed it and have a hankering for more. I’ll be invading your inbox every couple of weeks with more Southern-Fried news and notions. Thanks for visiting and Many Happy Nightmares, y’all!