Tag Archive | horror
April 12, 2011  

Job Security — Part 1

For the past several years, zombies have been all the craze in the horror world. Personally, I’ve been obsessed with the subject ever since my father took me to see the original Dawn of the Dead.

Job Security is my little addition to the zombie genre. I’ve broken it up into easily digestible bits (kinda like nice, soft brains) and will post a new section each week. Enjoy!

JOB SECURITY

By Hunter Shea

PART ONE:

The sun was out that day for the first time in over a week, but Russell Banks didn’t have the spare time to notice. Every day was the same as far as he was concerned. Wake up, piss, shower, change and go to work until the sun went down, even on summer days when the Georgia sun reluctantly said goodnight at nine o’clock every night.

            Banks Textiles was built with Russell’s sweat and blood and while he was still on this earth, he would continue to pour his very soul into the business at the expense of his own social life. Just ask his ex-wife, June, and the two boys he hasn’t seen in close to three years.

            Thanks to the cancer that was outsourcing, the textile business in America was fast becoming a by-gone industry. You could hear Russell Banks decry the goddamn foreigners about ten times a day, along with countless other colorful epithets.

            So it came to be that Russell was immersed in his duties as captain of the sinking ship on that bright, humid Tuesday when his secretary Hannah barged into his office looking waxen.

            “Excuse me, Mr. Banks?”

            “Hannah, I don’t have time,” he barked behind his imposing oak desk. A phone headset sat atop his balding scalp and he scanned the data on two computer monitors that sat side by side amidst the clutter.

            He was too busy to notice that the old girl looked about ready to faint.

            “But, someone’s here to see you and…”

            He cut her off with a sharp wag of his finger and spoke into the fiber optic tube by his mouth. “Don’t give me excuses. Call me back in ten minutes with an answer.” He angrily punched the disconnect button on his pone, cursed the entire country of India and began poking through a mound of loose papers.

            When he looked up and saw his secretary leaning against the door with eyes as wide and terrified as soon-to-be road kill, he asked, “Why are you still here. I told you, I don’t have time.”

            “Bob Samson is here to see you,” she blurted out, her voice rising.

            Russell removed his headset and gently placed it on the desk. Hannah had never acted like this before and he prayed it wasn’t some change of life episode. Sometimes women could be as irritating and life draining as the foreigners.

            “Who the hell is Bob Samson and why the hell are you getting so worked up about it?” he said in a calm, even tone that barely masked his simmering anger.

            Hannah moved away from the door and sat across from him. She looked about ready to jump out the window.

            Her chin quivered as she said, “Bob Samson used to work in the factory. He was a line worker until last week. He came to get his job back.”

            Ah, a former disgruntled employee, Russell thought. He probably came in all full of piss and vinegar and put the fear of God in her. Well, that was nothing a quick call to security couldn’t fix. As he dialed the extension for security, he said, “If he lost his job in the first place, it was for a good reason. I’ll have security come up and fetch him.”

            Hannah leaped up and swatted the phone away. Russell jumped back in his chair, stunned.

            “You don’t understand, Mr. Banks. Bob Samson died last week!”

            Before he could retort, come up with something to gently suggest Hannah had lost her mind, there was a knock on the door, just three soft taps. The doorknob turned and Hannah dashed behind Russell sitting in his big swivel chair.

            The smell made its greeting moments before Bob Samson came waltzing in. He looked as if he’d been black in life, but death had cast a gray pallor to his livid flesh. Removing his baseball cap, Russell noticed a tuft of wiry black hair pull from his scalp and plop onto his floor, weighted down by a small chunk of skin.

            “I’m awful sorry about that,” Bob Samson said, reaching down to pick up that small part of himself and stuffing it into his pocket. “Seems I’m still getting used to my, ah, current condition.” He smiled, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites, the end result of Banks Textiles’ superb dental plan. Seeing such a set of choppers in a walking, talking corpse was about the only thing that kept Russell from losing his lunch, for no amount of polite banter could mask Bob Samson’s stench. It reminded Russell of the time he had found a dead deer while hiking in the woods. It had been sitting in the sun, bloated and gnawed upon by bugs and other animals beyond recognition, for close to a week.

            Oblivious to their terror and disgust, Bob went on as if talking to a corpse was an everyday occurrence. “Now I know this is a bit of a shock and I don’t have an appointment and all, but I really wanted to talk to you personally, Mr. Banks. I mean, the first time I was alive I never got the chance to thank you for the job you and your company gave me. Why, it kept a roof over my head and food on my table for close to thirty years and I can’t think of anyone else that would do that for a man like myself.”

            Russell and Hannah sat in mute silence.

            “I know I’m not the most educated man in the world, but I was always a hard worker.”

            “But…but, you’re dead,” Russell said. There was no need for a death certificate. His nose and eyes were all he needed to confirm the truth.

            Bob laughed and slapped his thigh. “Was dead, was dead. When I woke up in that box, believe me, I was just as surprised then as you are now. Took me a better part of a day getting myself out of that fix. Now, I don’t profess to know how this happened or why. I never was much for goin’ to church and I stopped my schoolin’ when I was about nine. All I know is I’m back and I can’t think of a better thing to do with myself than come back to work for you, Mr. Banks. You might say I’m a new and improved model, because I don’t need sleep or food, so if you’ll have me, you got yourself a 24/7 employee.” He leaned back in his chair and marveled at the possibilities. “Well, maybe I’ll take a smoke break every now and then. At least now I know the smokin’ can’t hurt me.”

Click here to read part 2!

 

Check out Forest of Shadows by Hunter Shea : "Dark, intense and not afraid to get down and dirty."

April 8, 2011  

My Inspiration For…By Guest Blogger Lynn Hones

One thing every single writer is asked time and time again is, “Where do you get your ideas?” I was recently at a talk given by R.L. Stine, and he said he’s always wanted to respond, “I don’t know, where do you get yours?”

Inspiration can come from anywhere. From a childhood event, to something you see on the news and even a mispronounced word (which sparked a short story of mine that has been published quite a few times). I want to peel back the skullcap of horror writers and take a peek inside their creative process for all to see. I’m going to kick off this series with author Lynn Hones and the childhood vacation that was the golem-esque clay for one of her novels.

So without further ado, the following page is Lynn’s stage…

My horror ebook, Laugh in the Dark, started this way. Back in the late 1960’s it wasn’t unusual for Dad to call out to my mom that we were taking a road trip. Keep in mind this was way back before seat belts were mandatory and the posted speed limit was 70 miles per hour. There were six kids and one Volkswagen Bug. Growing up in Ohio, near the Pennsylvania border, the usual response uttered under our breath was, “Dear God, not Gettysburg…again.”

He’d light a cig and smiled, “Nope, we’re going to Conneaut Lake Park.”

Now he was talking. We’d happily jump into that tiny car with big smiles dreaming of Devil’s Den with the infamous Wall of Gum. I made a mental note to have the mandatory wad of gum to stick on the wall as the cart went up the first hill.

Mom, depending on the year, was pregnant and holding a baby in the front seat, with the rest of us crammed into the back and the “puke bucket,” along with a random kid or two, stuffed in what we called “the well” in the way back.

Once there, us kids, green from Mom and Dad’s ciggy smoke filling the car, would jump out and run for the Conneaut Hotel. Old and spooky, built on Lake Conneaut, it was a fantastic place with long, uneven hallways and doorways with windows up top to let in the lake breezes. No televisions, radios, phones or air conditioning, it was right next door to the small park. We loved to hear the old-timers tell us about the young and beautiful bride, Elizabeth, who died in a fire there on her wedding day, and haunted the hotel ever since, looking for her lover.

Dad would buy the tickets and we’d run through the park and ride to exhaustion. Back in our room, we’d sleep with one eye open waiting for Elizabeth to float through the wall.

Fast forward to 2011. I now bring my own kids there and run around with them like the skinny little, Converse wearing, gum chomping girl I used to be.

 The best part, is that the hotel, built in the late 1890’s, is still operating and…there are still no phones, radios, televisions or air conditioning. And yes, the Wall of Gum is still there. The park is just hanging on however, financially and may be seeing its last days in this economy. If you get the chance, go. The lonely bride will remind you that although she died over sixty years ago, her spirit lingers, just as the spirit of the old park lingers in the memories of anyone lucky enough to have visited it back in the day or as recently as last year.

For further information check out this website, http://www.clphotelconneaut.com/history.html, or go to my own website, www.lynnhones.com and look for my page, A Haunted Hotel. I’d love to hear from anyone who has been there and their memories.

March 28, 2011  

Joining the Horror Writer’s Association Made Easier

When it comes to writer’s organizations, there are those who are natural born joiners and others who prefer to be the lone wolf. In my experience, there is no right or wrong here. (I made my first professional sale without being a member of an organization and without an agent, but I do know the tremendous value in each.)

For those interested in joining the HWA (Horror Writer’s Association), there is good news. It seems that they have made joining much, much easier. In years past, you needed solid professional sales in order to be a member. This is all well and good, but it did block out those who really needed the invaluable tools and contacts that membership provides. I’ve been a member in the past and plan on signing up again this year.

The key is to make the most of your experience. Volunteer, join in discussions, carefully read the information posted. Most of all, give as much as you get. The HWA represents a pretty impressive fraternity of horror professionals.

If this is your kind of thing, click here to read more about membership requirements.

March 27, 2011  

The Rebirth of Horror

Like most people, I was devastated, angry and temporarily lost when Leisure Books (Dorchester Publishing) completely imploded last year. In just one month, they stopped printing paperbacks, lost most of their treasured authors and parted ways with their editor, Don D’Auria, the man responsible for keeping horror not only alive, but an important and valuable genre in the publishing industry.

After over a decade of trying to break into Leisure, Don had accepted my novel just a little over a month before it all fell apart. It was kind of like getting that pony you always wished for on Christmas, only to watch in horror as dad backed his SUV over it in the driveway.

I thought all was lost and I was truly ready to throw in the towel. I’m glad I didn’t (and big thanks to my agent Louise Fury for that). I know this was announced in January, but not everyone is aware that hope has arrived. (The following from sfscope.com)

Don D’Auria lands at Samhain
By Ian Randal Strock  
Don D’Auria has joined Samhain Publishing as Executive Editor. He will oversee the company’s new horror line, which will launch in October. Previously D’Auria was executive editor for Leisure Books at Dorchester Publishing.

Samhain is looking for supernatural or non-supernatural, contemporary or historical horror novels from new or experienced authors (agented or un-agented). “Content can range from subtle and unsettling to gory and shocking. The writing is what counts.”
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