THE NEW DEAD, a review

Just before Christmas I picked out a huge stack of fiction that I wanted to have as a gift for the holiday. One of the dozen or so books was this one, THE NEW DEAD. It's a horror anthology edited by Christopher Golden. Generally, I enjoy genre anthologies, but I'm very critical of them. I expect the stories to entertain me and to contain real quality. Often, I'm disappointed.

My own expectations are that 75% of the contents consist of excellent work. One of my old writing acquaintance I parted company with some time ago feels that if you get two good stories out of an anthology then you should be happy with the purchase. Well, I disagree with that, but I often find that many anthologies are filled with crap. One reason for this is that a lot of anthologies are sold on the basis of the names of the authors contained within the covers and not the quality of the fiction that was purchased for publication. This is a sad fact. A lot of professional writers work to build a name for themselves and then go on autopilot, churning out substandard work. In many cases a name author will get a request for a submission and the editor will accept the story, no matter how awful it might be.

So I've gotten to the point where I often expect to actively dislike about half of the contents of any given genre anthology.

What a happy surprise THE NEW DEAD was for me.

I'm sure Mr. Golden took some of these stories based solely on the author's name, but those particular folk did seem to produce good stories for this book.

One story in here that made me laugh after I'd finished it was "Shooting Pool" by Joe Lansdale. I had to laugh not because the story was funny (he can write humor, but this stark tale was definitely not funny), but because it has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the topic of this anthology: zombies. Moments after I finished the last line of Lansdale's excellent yarn I was chuckling. And the laughter came because who but a few writers have the reputation and the eggs to deliver a story to a zombie anthology that has absolutely nothing to do with zombies. "Shooting Pool" is classic Lansdale, and I loved every word of it--but it's not a zombie tale. (But I'm not complaining. I'd still buy the anthology just to add it to my Lansdale collection.)

Now, the best thing about this collection is that so many of the stories are top quality. Even though I'd gotten Carole to buy it for me, I did have a bit of fear that the anthology might be disappointing. There have been a few zombie-themed collections that were top-notch, and I was wondering how much new and fresh could be added to or said about this sub-genre of horror fiction. I need not have feared, because the writers that Golden assembled for this book really seemed to dig very deep indeed to deliver some kickass work.

When I was trying to decide what the absolute best story was, I found that it was really tough to decide. It was so tough that I decided not to decide on the very best one, but whittle it down to the best two stories. And sticking to that theme, I'll list the best by the author's last names in alphabetic order.

"Kids and Their Toys" by James A. Moore was the kind of story that is so well executed that one cringes. It basically features a group of southern kids who chance upon a newly risen zombie and who decide to trap it and keep it in a kind of clubhouse. Moore writes convincingly of the ways of male children and of the southern setting in which they move. I found nothing at all false or contrived in the way the kids acted or spoke and found myself able to believe that something like this could--and probably would--happen in a world where Romero-esque zombie walked the Earth. It's just a fantastic story.

Then David Wellington delivered "Weaponized". This story features some very upsetting zombies which are really not much like the ones we're accustomed to seeing in the movies or reading about in the proliferation of new novels and anthologies. This story is centered on zombies as military weapons. The story is told from the point of view of a female journalist embedded with US forces in some fictionalized Arab nation in which our soldiers are engaged. The place is not Afghanistan, but might as well be. I found myself again believing the situation and amazed at the polish of Wellington's fiction. Also, I'm getting the distinct impression that the author, who has made his name writing about zombies, werewolves, and vampires should take a serious stab at science fiction. He really has developed the chops to write a seriously good sf novel.

Another great turn at pure style was Stephen Bissette's "Copper". He shows here that he's as good a writer as the horror genre has to offer these days. This tale features one familiar trope of soldiers-as-zombies, but attempts to paint the photo of soldiers as victims. While I'm not so sure that I agree with the sympathies of this story, I was blown away by the singular style that Bissette wields here like a scalpel. He cuts deep and makes you bleed emotions. I hope like Hell to read more prose from Steve Bissette.

A couple of the stories explored themes that were just a bit too similar in nature to suit and this is a situation when the editor should likely have accepted the first one to come across his desk and asked the subsequent author to supply another tale. However, when dealing with writers who have reached a certain spot in their careers, I know that this is sometimes difficult if not totally impossible. These particular yarns dealt with the theme of "closure" (a term I don't like) and what's to be done with the resurrected loved ones once they come back to flesh-eating unlife.

And, sadly, a couple of the established pros decided to phone in their contributions, knowing of course that their so-called "name brand" would guarantee a place in the anthology. I won't mention these, not even the one who so enjoys mentioning his own "name brand" whenever he crows about himself.

Fortunately, these few lousy tales are far outweighed by exceedingly high quality work from the likes of Rick Hautala ("Ghost Trap"), Tim Lebbon's "In the Dust", and "Second Wind" from Mike Carey.

I have to say that I was impressed with Christopher Golden's choices of authors (mainly) and stories. This anthology hit the ball out of the park and is far more pleasing than I had any reason to expect.

THE BLEEDING EDGE Arrives

Some months ago Jason Brock and William F. Nolan announced that they were going to be editing a new horror anthology entitled THE BLEEDING EDGE (Dark Barriers, Dark Frontiers). It would feature stories that were to be cutting edge horror with themes that pushed the envelope of the genre. I had a story that I figured would qualify and submitted it. They bought "Love & Magick" from me and soon paid full pro rates for the tale. Bill Nolan had me make a few changes, but having my work edited has never been an issue with me.

Last week the book arrived. Jason worked long and hard putting this anthology together and ensuring that it would be an impressive book when it was off the presses. I have to say that I am impressed with the look and feel of the package. The paper quality is grand, as is the binding. The book is bound in blood red stock with appropriately black title.

The contents, too, are excellent. The lineup of authors is impressive, with stories by some of my favorite authors and many professional writers from my youth. Some of the names present are William F. Nolan, Ray Bradbury, Richard Matheson, John Shirley, Earl Hamner, Jr., Joe Lansdale, Gary Braunbeck, Steve Rasnic Tem, and others. Brock and Nolan included not just stories but also teleplays. It has been a long time since I've seen that format presented in a fiction anthology.

I've now received my copies of the trade hardback version, but the signed and numbered limited edition won't be release until later in the month. I look forward to seeing it. Thus far, quality-wise, this is the best anthology of which I've been fortunate enough to be a part.

You can order the book at Amazon, or directly from the publisher.

The Genre Coughs up a Good One.

For most of my late youth and almost all of my adult life I have enjoyed reading and writing horror fiction. However, while I have discovered many quality works of horror in the short form, and many skillful practitioners of horror fiction of shorter length, there have been very few novels within that genre that actually achieved what I suspect their authors set out to do.

So, about ten years ago I found myself reading less and less horror, either in the short story form or in the novel format. With the contraction of the magazine markets I really couldn't locate much in the way of short horror fiction, and almost all of the novels I was picking up just left me cold.

And that sent me to looking over my vast library of horror fiction and judging it. I own quite a lot of horror anthologies and collections and I attempted to reread material that had held my interest in earlier times.

On resurrecting this stuff, I found it better left in its pulpy graves. No new authors have appeared recently that have impressed me, at all. I grab horror novels in the shops and read the first chapter or two and…well, just put them back on the shelves.

Today, I walked into a local booksuperstore and walked down the aisles looking for something to buy. I read a lot of non-fiction, so buying something there wasn't going to be a problem. I read a lot of mainstream fiction, so picking out something along those lines that would interest me wasn't going to be much of a stretch. Even science-fiction has produced so many good authors and interesting ideas in the past couple of decades that I can almost always find a good sf novel of recent vintage that won't leave me regretting my purchase.

But I wanted to find a good horror novel, by Crom. Something with teeth. Something with wit. Something with style.

And I actually located a new book by probably the only horror writer who's walked up out of the horror ghetto in the past thirty years who seems to know how to write a good book:

Joe Lansdale.

Unlike too many writers today, the man has style. You don't have to see the name on the cover to know that you're reading a Joe Lansdale book (or short story). And, as I am out of the genre fiction news loop, I didn't realize that he had a new horror novel out there—one LOST ECHOES. I read the jacket blurb and the bare bones plot synopsis and while it didn't scream of innovation, it did grab my interest.

And then I opened it up and the book just fell open and my eyes nailed this line:

As his father said, "If it cost a nickel to shit, we'd have to throw up."

I don't know if Lansdale coined that himself, or if he heard it from one of the east Texas folk with whom he was raised. But whichever, it was a line I'd only be likely to see used (and used right) in a Joe Lansdale novel.

So I bought the book (the last copy on the shelf), and I'll have it read as soon as I get back from bushwhacking to the summit of a NC mile-high peak. Horror fiction seems to have come through with at least one book worth reading today. I reckon there's hope for that steaming, rotten, backwater, closed-up, decrepit, wandering-in-circles, dying genre yet.