The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 10 - [Anthology]

by Edited By Stephen Jones

  Based on the short-lived 1991-92 series,Eerie Indiana “The Other Dimension” involved Mitchell Taylor (Bill Switzer) and his friend Stanley (Daniel Clark), who discovered that weirdness was spilling into their world via an inter-dimensional television signal.

  The New Addams Family was an unfunny half-hour comedy series based upon the creepy characters created by Charles Addams. At least it included a welcome guest appearance by John Astin (the original Gomez from the 1964-66 series) and the excellent Nicole Fugere as Wednesday.

  Inspired by the 1989 hit film and characters created by Stuart Gordon, Brian Yuzna and co-executive producer Ed Naha, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids followed the usually-bizarre exploits of scientist Wayne Szalinski (Peter Scolari) and his family.

  The title of Kevin Brownlow’s slightly disappointing cable TV documentary, Universal Horror, was something of a misnomer as it also included material from several other studios. The History Channel’s In Search of History series featured two well-researched documentaries based around genre themes: Legends of the Werewolves looked at lycanthropes both real and fictional, while The Real Dracula investigated the life of Dracula author Bram Stoker and the historical facts behind the character. However, E! Entertainment’sMysteries & Scandals: Bela Lugosi was a sleazy, tabloid-style expose of “the tormented life” of the actor that simply rehashed rumour, innuendo and myths as it concentrated on the end of Lugosi’s career as an alcoholic and drug addict.

  For computer-users, The Learning Company/Red Orb, a division of Mindscape, released Blackstone Chronicles: An Adventure in Terror, a game for the PC that was based on John Saul’s series of books set in and around a haunted asylum.

  * * * *

  The 8th World Horror Convention was held in Phoenix, Arizona, over the weekend of 7-10 May. Guests of honour were Brian Lumley, Bernie Wrightson and publisher Tom Doherty, with John Steakley as Toastmaster. The Media Guest, Tom Savini, failed to show up.

  The Bram Stoker Awards were presented by the Horror Writers Association at a banquet on 6 June in New York City, with Douglas E. Winter as the Keynote Speaker and Edward Bryant as Toastmaster. The winners were Children of the Dusk by HWA President Janet Berliner and George Guthridge in the Novel category; Lives of the Monster Dogs by Kirsten Bakis for First Novel; “The Big Blow” by Joe R. Lansdale (from Revelations/ Millennium) for Long Fiction/Novelette; “Rat Food” by Edo van Belkom and David Nickle (from On. Spec magazine) for Short Story; Karl Edward Wagner’s Exorcisms and Ecstasies edited by Stephen Jones for Collection, and Stanley Wiater’s Dark Thoughts: On Writing for Non-Fiction. Both William Peter Blatty and Jack Williamson were presented with Life Achievement Awards, a Specialty Press Award was given to Richard Chizmar for Cemetery Dance magazine and CD Books, while Sheldon Jaffery received the Board of Trustees’s 1998 Hammer Award for his service to the HWA.

  Winners of the International Horror Guild Award were announced at the Dragon*Con Awards Banquet on Friday 5 September in Atlanta, Georgia. The Lifetime Achievement award went to Hugh B. Cave; Ramsey Campbell’s Nazareth Hill was voted Best Novel; The Throne of Bones by Brian McNaughton won in the Collection category; the Best Anthology award went to Revelations/Millennium edited by Douglas E. Winter; Drawn to the Grave by Mary Ann Mitchell won First Novel; “Coppola’s Dracula” by Kim Newman (from The Mammoth Book of Dracula) won in Short Form; “Cram” by John Shirley (from Wet-bones 2) was Best Short Story; Stephen R. Bissette was Best Artist; Best Graphic Story went to Preacher: Proud Americans by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon, and Best Publication wasNecrofile edited by Dziemianowicz, Joshi and Morrison. Although nominations were made in the film category, judges Edward Bryant, Hank Wagner and Fiona Webster abstained from presenting an award.

  The 1998 British Fantasy Awards were presented at Fantasy-Con XXII in Birmingham, England, on Sunday 13 September. Voted for by members of the British Fantasy Society and FantasyCon, the winners were announced at the Awards Banquet by Master of Ceremonies Ramsey Campbell and Guests of Honour Freda Warrington and Jane Yolen. Light Errant by Chaz Brenchley won the Best Novel award (The August Derleth Fantasy Award); Best Short Story was Christopher Fowler’s “Wage-slaves” (from Destination Unknown/Secret City: Strange Tales of London); Dark Terrors 3: The Gollancz Book of Horror edited by Stephen Jones and David Sutton was voted Best Anthology; Jim Burns was Best Artist; the Best Small Press Award went to Interzone edited by David Pringle; D.F. Lewis was presented with the Special Karl Edward Wagner Award, and a Special Convention Award was announced for past BFS President Kenneth Bulmer.

  Only the location saved one of the worst-ever organised World Fantasy Conventions, held in Monterey, California, over 29 October to 1 November. Guest of Honour was Gahan Wilson, Special Guests were Frank M. Robinson, Cecelia Holland and Richard Laymon, and Richard A. Lupoff was Toastmaster. The winners of the World Fantasy Awards, selected by a panel of judges, were announced at an anti-climactic buffet lunch. The Special Award - Non-Professional went to Fedogan & Bremer for book publishing; the Special Award - Professional was won by The Encyclopedia of Fantasy edited by John Clute and John Grant; Best Artist was Alan Lee; Best Collection went to The Throne of Bones by Brian McNaughton; the Best Anthology was Bending the Landscape: Fantasy edited by Nicola Griffith and Stephen Pagel; “Dust Motes” by P.D. Cacek (from Gothic Ghosts) won for Best Short Fiction; Richard Bowes’ “Streetcar Dreams” (from The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, April 1997) was voted Best Novella, and the Best Novel was The Physiognomy by Jeffrey Ford. Life Achievement Awards were announced for editor Edward L. Ferman and writer Andre Norton.

  California-based dealer Barry R. Levin announced that Peter F. Hamilton had won his Collectors Award for 1998 for Most Collectible Author of the Year. The limited Tor edition of Robert Silverberg’s anthology Legends was Most Collectible Book of the Year, and Britain’s George Locke received the special Lifetime Collectors Award for His Unique Contribution to the Bibliography of Fantastic Literature.

  * * * *

  Ten years is a long time. It’s even longer in publishing. The past decade has not been kind to horror fiction, with the erosion of the mid-list and the cancellation of genre imprints resulting in the all-but-collapse of the commercial field.

  Which makes it all the more remarkable that the Best New Horror series has reached this landmark number of volumes. This is mostly due to the tenacity of Nick Robinson of Britain’s Robinson Publishing and Kent Carroll and Herman Graf of America’s Carroll & Graf Publishers. Despite various changes of title and format, they have continued to publish and support this series of anthologies in the face of industry apathy to the genre.

  If not for them, I could not have reprinted more than 1.5 million words of the best horror fiction to have appeared over the past ten years.

  I have always said that the aim of this series is to present a representative sampling of stories which are being nominally published under the description of “horror”, or “dark fantasy” or whatever the publishers’ current nomenclature for the genre is.

  That is why I have been proud to select work by such new and up-and-coming authors as Thomas Ligotti, Kim Newman, Michael Marshall Smith, Poppy Z. Brite, Neil Gaiman, Kathe Koja, Douglas E. Winter, Terry Lamsley, Brian Hodge, Grant Morrison, Roberta Lannes, Norman Partridge, Storm Constantine, Ian R. MacLeod, Elizabeth Massie, Nicholas Royle, Elizabeth Hand, Graham Joyce, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Chaz Brenchley, Joel Lane, Conrad Williams, Donald R. Burleson, D.F. Lewis and many others alongside more established names such as Peter Straub, Ramsey Campbell, Brian Lumley, Clive Barker, Harlan Ellison, F. Paul Wilson, Robert R. McCammon, Dennis Etchison, Charles Grant, Jonathan Carroll, Gene Wolfe, M. John Harrison, Iain Sinclair, Tanith Lee, T.E.D. Klein, Graham Masterton, Kate Wilhelm, Richard Laymon, Gahan Wilson and Thomas Tessier, to name only a few. Sadly, others like Karl Edward Wagner, Robert Bloch, Manly Wade Wellman, John Brunner and Robert Westall are no longer with us, but their work lives on, preserved in the pages of this series and elsewhere.

  In fact,
Best New Horror has published a total of 239 stories and novellas and one poem in its ten-year history. During that period only two authors have ever refused a request to reprint their work - it just so happens that they are the two biggest-selling names in horror on either side of the Atlantic. Go figure.

  Best New Horror has also been fortunate enough to win the World Fantasy Award, the British Fantasy Award and The International Horror Critics Guild Award, as well as being nominated on several other occasions. To everyone who voted for the book and has supported it over the years, my sincere thanks.

  I would also especially like to thank Ramsey Campbell, who co-edited the first five volumes with me and who remains this series’ spiritual inspiration. I continue to strive to match his taste, skill and intelligence with every new edition.

  But what of the future? As the new Millennium arrives and the horror field claws its way back from the brink of the abyss and begins to find its commercial voice again, Best New Horror will hopefully be there to chart its resurgence and supply a few pointers along the way. This series will continue to discover the most exciting new names in dark fiction (in all its myriad forms) and present them alongside some of the best-known authors currently working in the field.

  At its best, horror fiction is amongst the most imaginative and challenging work being published today, andBest New Horror will continue to reflect that literary excellence into the 21st century.

  I hope you’ll be along for the ride . . .

  The Editor

  May, 1999

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  * * * *

  CHRISTOPHER FOWLER

  Learning to Let Go

  Christopher fowler’s latest novel is titledCalabash. His other recent books include two new collections of short stories, Uncut and Personal Demons, and the novel Soho Black. Among his earlier work is Roofworld (currently being developed as a big-budget action horror movie), Rune, Red Bride, Disturbia, Spanky and Psychoville (also in development). Menz Insanza is a large graphic novel from DC Comics/Vertigo, illustrated by John Bolton.

  “ ‘Learning to Let Go’ came from my desire to get away from traditional ‘horror’ stories,” explains the author. “I had read many tales that were similarly constructed, and few seemed to contain any of the author’s actual experiences. So I began with a very traditional take on such tales - the journey into mystery - and gradually pulled it apart until I found something I related to myself - at which point I discovered that I no longer wished to write traditional horror stories.

  “So this is a closure, if you like, the last of my ‘old style’. For a while after I stopped writing altogether, trying to work out what to do; but once the bug is in you it’s hard to let go - hence the title - and I finally struck out in an entirely new direction, which is my latest novel. As they say, if you don’t burn your bridges now and then, you never grow!”

  * * * *

  E

  veryone has a story to tell, he reminded himself.

  Whether it really happened, to them or to someone else, is irrelevant. What’s important is that they believe some part of it, no matter how small. The most ludicrous and unlikely narrative might yield a telling detail that could lodge in a person’s mind forever.

  Harold Masters smiled at the thought and was nearly killed as he stepped off the kerb on the corner of Museum Street. The passing van bounced across a crevice in the tarmac and soaked his trousers, but the doctor barely noticed. He raised his umbrella enough to see a few feet ahead and launched himself perilously into the homegoing traffic, his head clouded with doubts and dreams. Why were his pupils so inattentive? Was he a poor storyteller? How could he be bad at the one thing he loved? Perhaps he lacked the showmanship to keep their interest alive. Why could they create no histories for themselves, even false ones?

  Fact and fiction, fiction and fact.

  What was the old Hollywood maxim?Nobody knows anything. Not strictly true, he thought. Everyone has some practical knowledge, how to replace a lightbulb, how to fill a tank with petrol. But it was true that most information came second-hand, even with the much-vaunted advent of electronic global communication. You couldn’t believe what you saw on the news or read in the papers, not entirely, because it was written with a subtle political, commercial or demographic slant, so why, he wondered, should you believe what you read in a washing machine manual or see on a computer screen? A taxi hooted as he hailed it, the vehicle’s wing mirror catching at his coat as he jumped up on to the opposite kerb.

  Dr Harold Masters, at the end of the twentieth century:

  Insect-spindled, grey, dry, disillusioned, unsatisfied, argumentative (especially with his wife, whom he was due to meet on the 18:40 p.m. train from Paddington this evening), hopeful, childish, academic, isolated, impatient, forty-four years old and losing touch with the world outside, especially students (he and Jane had two of their own - Lara, currently at Exeter University, and Tyler, currently no more than a series of puzzling postcards from Nepal).

  Dr Harold Masters, collector of tales, fables, legends, limericks, jokes and ghost stories, Professor of Oral History, off to the coast with his wife and best friend to deliver a lecture on fact and fiction, was firmly convinced that he could persuade anyone to tell a story. Not just something prosaic and blunted with repetition, how granny lost the cat or the time the car broke down, but a fantastic tale spun from the air, plotted in the mouth and shaped by hand gestures. All it took, he told himself and his pupils, was a little imagination and a willingness to suspend belief. Peregrine Summerfield disagreed with him, of course, but then the art historian was a disagreeable man at the best of times, and had grown worse since his girlfriend had left him. He made an interesting conversational adversary, though, and Masters looked forward to seeing him tonight.

  Thank God we persuaded him to come out and spend the weekend with us, he thought as he left his taxi and walked on to the concourse at Paddington Station. Peregrine had suggested cooking dinner for the doctor and his wife this weekend, but his house doubled as his studio and was cluttered with half-filled tubes of paint, brushes glued into cups of turpentine, bits of old newspaper, pots of cloudy water and stacks of unfinished canvasses. Besides, they were bound to argue about something in the course of the evening, and at least this way they would be on neutral ground. Or rather, running over it, for they had arranged to meet in the dining car of the train.

  Masters spent too long in the station bookshop quizzing one of the shelf stackers on her reading habits, and nearly forgot to keep an eye on the time. Luckily the dining carriage was situated right at the platform entrance, and he was able to climb aboard without having to gallop down the platform.

  “Darling, how nice of you to be on time for once.” Jane, his wife, kissed him carefully. “I felt sure you’d miss it again. Perry’s not made it yet, either. I bribed the waiter to open up the bar and got you a sherry. God, you’re soaked. I thought you were going to get a taxi. Do you want me to put that down for you?” She pointed to his dripping briefcase.

  “Um, no, actually, I’ve something to show you.” Masters seated himself and dug inside, removing a handful of yellowed pages sealed in a clear plastic envelope. “Thought you’d be interested in seeing this. I might include it in the lecture.”

  Jane had hoped for a little social interaction with her husband before he plunged back into his ink-and-paper world. Concealing her disappointment, she accepted the package and slipped the pages from their cover. She was good at masking her emotions. She’d had plenty of practice. “What’s it supposed to be?”

  “It was found in a desk drawer in a Dublin newspaper office when they were clearing out the building. Miles passed it to me for verification.”

  With practised ease, Jane slipped the yellow pills into her cupped hand and washed them down with her sherry. “You really want me to look at this now?”

  “Go on, before Perry gets here,” pleaded Masters. He was like an irritating schoolboy sometimes; he would hover over her, drivi
ng her mad if she didn’t read it straightaway. Reluctantly, she perused the battered pages.

  “Obviously it’s meant to be a missing chapter from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, revealing the fate of Jonathan Harker. But if it was real, it would have to be part of an earlier draft.” Jane tapped the pages level. “The quality of the writing is different, too coarse. It wouldn’t fit with the finished version of the book at all.” She studied the pages again. “It’s a fake. I think it’s pretty unlikely that Bram Stoker would write about oral sex, don’t you? The ink and the paper look convincingly old, though.”

  “Damn.” Masters accepted the pages back. “You saw through it without even reading it properly. Miles went to the trouble of using genuine hundred-year-old ink, too. It’s his entry for a new course we’re starting called ‘Hidden Histories’.”

  “Did you really expect me to believe it was the genuine article?”

  “Well, I suppose so,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “Honestly, you and Miles are as bad as each other.”

  “Well, I believed it,” he moped. “But then, I always believe the stories I’m told.”