Valdis Damien van Dyne

Pierce Mostyn not only has Cthulhu to think about, he also has Valdis Damien van Dyne.

Sherlock Holmes had his Moriarty. Nero Wolfe had his Zeck. Nayland Smith had his Dr Fu Manchu. Hence, I think it only natural for Mostyn to have his van Dyne.

The Diabolical Mastermind trope has been around for a long time, and has served readers, moviegoers, and TV watchers quite well. The Diabolical Mastermind is the ultimate test for the hero.

A few readers have asked, “Why van Dyne, when you already have the ultimate evil in Cthulhu?” And that is a good question.

In part, I created van Dyne for a very human face to put on the evil in our world. I relish good cosmic horror. It is the ultimate expression of the objective meaninglessness of humanity. As such, cosmic horror shows us that our meaning and purpose is all inside. Who we are cannot be found out there. It can only be found within. We must discover who we are through introspection.

Nietzsche advises us to look to art for discovering who we are. What he meant was, just as the gods are all creators so are we humans creators. It is through the act of creating that we find ourselves and express who and what we are as individuals.

While cosmic horror pictures all of this for us, for many of us it is all too abstract. What does all that have to do with the day today evil I encounter?

The Diabolical Mastermind, in a way, puts a human face to the ultimate evil that causes the ultimate horror. It’s rather difficult to come to grips with Cthulhu or Azathoth. It’s much easier for us to understand a Moriarty, or a Fu Manchu, or a Valdis Damien van Dyne.

In Pierce Mostyn’s world, van Dyne is the human counterpart to Cthulhu. Both are evil. Both exert incredible and extensive influence in the affairs of the world. And both want to take over the world, caring little about the fate of the human inhabitants in the process.

If all goes well, Van Dyne’s Zuvembies will be published at the end of this month; when we will see another titanic struggle between the forces of good (Mostyn, Bardon, and the rest of the OUP gang), and the forces of evil — personified in Valdis Damien van Dyne. The fate of the world hangs in the balance!

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Pierce Mostyn Continues

In two weeks, the sixth Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation, Demons in the Dunes, will hit the virtual bookshelves. And the word is that it’s the best Pierce Mostyn thus far. Which has me quite jazzed. I enjoy writing the Pierce Mostyn books and it’s good to know they are getting better and better.

I follow the school of thought that says don’t fully define your characters. Just start with a brief sketch and let them grow from story to story.

In practice, this means the characters may not come across as fully developed in the first book or two. Personally, I’m okay with that. I like to see a series character grow. And if what my advance readers are telling me is true, the characters are growing. Which means I am becoming more and more comfortable with them. And that is a very good thing.

Demons in the Dunes is also a bit different from the other books in the series in that the setting is not in the United States, but in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula. There is nothing like an exotic location to spice a read!

For me, one of the most interesting things to watch in the series is the development of Dr. Rafe Bardon. And Demons reveals yet another side of the good doctor that we haven’t seen before. He is truly one enigmatic fellow!

You can find the entire series here. If you become a VIP reader, you’ll get the novelette “The Feeder” as a gift. It’s another rousing paranormal tale of adventure, and it’s not available in stores.

I’ll have more next week, so stay tuned!

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Pierce Mostyn in The Medusa Ritual

Pierce Mostyn, that intrepid foe of the things that go bump in the night, last appeared in Van Dyne’s Vampires, published October of last year.

Next week he will appear in a new adventure, his fifth: The Medusa Ritual.

The germ of the idea for Mostyn’s latest adventure can be found in the Hazel Heald and Lovecraft collaboration “The Man of Stone”. Collaboration, though, is a generous term; for, according to ST Joshi, Heald seems to have contributed virtually no prose to the story — based on textual evidence.

Thus, Heald probably only provided a story idea for Lovecraft to run with. Which he did, and that story then provided me with the idea for The Medusa Ritual. So thank you Hazel for that original idea!

However, while “The Man of Stone” got the wheels turning for The Medusa Ritual, there is nothing of the earlier story in the later one other than people being turned to stone.

While Van Dyne’s Vampires focused on what is essentially a mad scientist and his monsters, in Mostyn’s new adventure we return to the world of cosmic horror. That world where the terror originates from the realization that in the big picture we are completely and totally insignificant. A realization that can easily drive us to despair, madness, or self-destruction.

Nietzsche’s answer to achieving this awareness and its accompanying despair, was for the person to become a creative individual. To become as a god, in other words, for gods create; and in creating, the individual can thereby bring meaning to his or her otherwise meaningless life.

Nietzsche’s answer was essentially an existential one. We are in command of our fate. Counter the meaninglessness of existence by creating your own meaning.

Lovecraft, on the other hand, retreated into antiquarianism, and racial and cultural identity. The old days are good. The old ways are known and comfortable. My own kind are known to me. The foreigner is unknown, a mystery, and therefore suspect.

In Lovecraft’s fiction we see his philosophy play out in his vision of our world having been invaded by alien monster beings who have no regard for us. In strange, swarthy, and dark foreigners who do the bidding of these monsters. And in the insignificance of us Westerners and our science in the face of these ancient beings and their magical rituals. HPL’s conclusion is that it’s best if we don’t know too much of what is really out there, or know any of it at all.

When I come away from reading Lovecraft, I have the feeling that ignorance is bliss. In being ignorant, I can live my life in the delusion that this is a world of meaning and purpose. That I have essential meaning and purpose.

In “The Shadow over Innsmouth”, the narrator comes face to face with the horror of the curtain being pulled aside to reveal what truly is. He has looked into the abyss. In the end, when he realizes that he too will eventually join those monstrous denizens of the deep, rather than end his life, he resigns himself to his fate. For Lovecraft, once we know the truth, we either surrender to it, or go mad, or destroy ourselves. There is no Nietzschian optimism in Lovecraft.

Pierce Mostyn, knowing the truth, doesn’t go mad or destroy himself, but he is weighed down by the understanding that in the end all of his actions are futile. He resorts to duty to keep on going. Much like the ancient Roman Stoics. Duty gives him purpose and meaning in what is an otherwise meaningless and chaotic universe.

Now all of the above is a heck of a lot of philosophy. But don’t worry. It’s all in the background. The Medusa Ritual is not a philosophical treatise. It’s a tale of cosmic horror with plenty of action, adventure, monsters, and daring do. Just what we want to read. Right?

And it will be available, Amazon willing, on July 29th for your reading pleasure.

Comments are always welcome; and, until next time, happy reading!

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Book Review: Your Arms Around Entropy

Every now and then one encounters an extraordinary author. A writer who’s a magician with his or her pen. Last year, I was very fortunate to find several such authors.

This year, with the fourth of the year over, I’ve discovered one: Brian Fatah Steele.

Thus far, I’ve read his short story collection Your Arms Around Entropy and others stories and his novel There is Darkness in Every Room. I’m currently reading his early novel In Bleed Country.

The first story I read by Steele was “Delicate Spaces”. The story that starts off Your Arms Around Entropy. I was immediately struck by his imagination. Building on the foundation of Lovecraftian cosmic horror, Steele bends the sub-genre into a shape that is uniquely his.

Sometime ago I was at an art fair in Elk River, Minnesota. I looked at what the artists were selling. There were glass artisans, potters, painters, woodworkers, the whole gamut. Out of all those artists, one jumped out at me: a potter.

His work captivated me. The miniatures were subtle in their coloration. The shapes were not exotic, but just a bit off the norm to make them unique. I bought several pieces.

It’s the same with Steele’s storytelling. It’s captivating.

Your Arms Around Entropy is a collection of a dozen stories, four appearing for the first time in the book.

A lot of people don’t like short stories. I happen to love them. The main criticism I see is that they are lacking. Lacking in story. Lacking in characterization. My response is, yes, the bad or mediocre ones are. The good ones are fabulous stories, with characters we love, or hate, or love and hate.

Steele draws superbly lifelike characters, who tell us, show us, their lives, and therein lies the tale.

Your Arms Around Entropy contains a little bit of everything. Some cosmic horror, a bit of the surreal, some straight up supernatural horror, a bit of humor. And plenty of trips to places perhaps even you can’t imagine.

My favorite story in the collection was “Bleak Mathematics”. It is a story I will probably re-read — and I don’t usually re-read books or stories. The tale is replete with interesting characters, suspenseful storytelling, Steele’s unique spin on cosmic horror, a touch of mystery, and an ending that takes a moment or two to sink in before it slaps you in the face with the horror of real reality.

I was so impressed by Your Arms Around Entropy — I bought all of Steele’s books. He really is that good.

You can read my Amazon review before you buy. Or you can just plunk down 99¢ and take twelve trips to where The Twilight Zone didn’t dare to go.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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The Man Who Saved Weird Tales

…and saved weird fiction.

Really? Weird Tales and weird fiction owe their existence to one man? The Unique Magazine? The magazine of HP Lovecraft?

Actually, Weird Tales wasn’t the magazine of HP Lovecraft. Sure, he submitted stories to WT and had them published (and a few rejected). But HPL actually disdained the commercial press and those who wrote for money, or “sold their soul to Mammon”, as he once put it. Lovecraft was willing to live in genteel poverty and support the amateur press to keep his art pure.

I wonder sometimes why he submitted to the pulp magazines at all. He in truth disdained them. I guess even a purist has to eat.

No, Weird Tales was not Lovecraft’s magazine. That is revisionist history started by his proteges August Derleth and Donald Wandrei.

Actually the man who was the defining persona of The Unique Magazine was Seabury Quinn. The man usually relegated to the footnotes of WT history telling.

Quinn was a lawyer, magazine editor, and prolific writer of fiction. He wrote over 500 stories. His published works number more than 5 times that of Lovecraft, and that includes HPL’s ghost written stories and collaborations. Granted Quinn lived 32 years longer than Lovecraft, but HPL was even out written by his younger contemporary, Robert E Howard, who had far fewer productive years than Lovecraft. 

In actuality, Lovecraft saw himself first and foremost as a poet. Let’s be honest here. Lovecraft wrote around five dozen stories and maybe half are memorable. It’s also true that HPL would have faded into oblivion were it not for Derleth’s continual paean of praise.

Quinn, on the other hand, had no champion and did fade into obscurity — and only now is being given a fair assessment. And the verdict is that he was a very decent writer. In fact, he was the most popular of Weird Tales’s cadre of authors.

Quinn and Lovecraft made their debut WT appearance in the 7th issue, October 1923. Lovecraft’s contribution was “Dagon” and Quinn’s was “The Phantom Farmhouse”.

Quinn’s story was so popular among WT readers they consistently asked for it to be reprinted. Not the case with “Dagon”. I’ve read both stories. Both are good. Different, but equally satisfying reads — for differing reasons.

Quinn’s occult detective, Jules de Grandin, first appeared in the October 1925 issue of Weird Tales and immediately became a hit with the readers. They couldn’t get enough of the little Frenchman and it was Quinn’s de Grandin who saved Weird Tales from dying in 1931.

The Unique Magazine had financial troubles throughout its entire history. This was partly due to its small readership. Competition for readers was fierce amongst the plethora of pulps and slicks. Not unlike the competition amongst indie authors today for readership.

The first issue of Weird Tales was March 1923. Edwin Baird was the editor. In just 13 issues, Baird had saddled WT with a debt of over $40,000. In contemporary dollars, that’s close to $600,000. Most of this money was owed to WT’s printer.

The publisher, J. C. Henneberger, decided to solve the problem by selling majority interest in the magazine to B. Cornelius, the printer, with the understanding that when the magazine became profitable, Cornelius would get his money back and the stock returned to Henneberger.

In the re-organization, Baird left and Farnsworth Wright took over as editor in 1924 when Lovecraft failed to accept Henneberger’s offer. And even though Wright’s tenure as editor is considered the magazine’s Golden Age, Weird Tales remained an unprofitable enterprise.

By late 1931, Cornelius’s patience had run out (we are talking 7 years here) and he ordered Henneberger to shut the magazine down.

Let’s think about this for a moment. If Cornelius had gotten his way, the history of weird fiction would have been very, very different. The best of Robert E Howard’s horror and fantasy, gone. No CL Moore or Robert Bloch. Much of Mary Elizabeth Counselman’s weird fiction, gone . Most of Carl Jacobi’s weird fiction, gone. We wouldn’t have Lovecraft’s “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward”, “The Dreams in the Witch House”, “The Thing on the Doorstep”, or “The Haunter of the Dark”.

The best years of the magazine would not exist.

However, Wright managed to convince Cornelius he had two serials that would turn the magazine around. They were Otis Adelbert Kline’s Tarzan pastiche, Tam, Son of Tiger, and Seabury Quinn’s The Devil’s Bride, the longest de Grandin story Quinn wrote.

The Devil’s Bride ran for six issues and effectively saved the magazine.

Darrell Schweitzer wrote, in his introductory essay, “Jules de Grandin: ‘The Pillar of Weird Tales’”:

“When you consider that Robert E Howard still had his best Weird Tales material in front of him and that all of CL Moore, Robert Bloch, and many others was yet to come, it is worth pausing to reflect on how much fantastic literature owes to Seabury Quinn’s excitable Frenchman.” (The Dark Angel: The Complete Tales of Jules de Grandin, Vol. 3. Night Shade Books, 2018)

So why is Seabury Quinn so little known today? I think the answer is August Derleth and his indefatigable championing of Lovecraft. Derleth placed all Weird Tales writers either in Lovecraft’s circle or outside it. And because HPL did not like Quinn’s writing, Quinn was damned. Because those outside the circle were promptly forgotten.

That Weird Tales was a Lovecraftian world is a myth. A myth created by HPL’s protege, August Derleth. Who also happened to be the second most published Weird Tales author. Much of that due to his “fake” collaborations with Lovecraft.

Stefan Dziemianowicz noted in his essay “‘Loved by Thousands of Readers’: The Popularity of Jules de Grandin”:

“In retrospect, Seabury Quinn’s tales of Jules de Grandin played a vital role in the development of weird fiction, if largely through their relationship with Weird Tales and its readers.” (The Devil’s Rosary: The Complete Tales of Jules de Grandin, Vol. 2. Night Shade Press, 2017)

Now that’s not something we weird fiction fans hear every day. Nor something we should ignore.

Comments are always welcome! And, until next time, happy reading!

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