Saturns Game
If you come from a family where addiction runs strong in both bloodlines (and so many of you do), then you understand that sense of hopelessness, when it feels as if no one has any control of anything. There’s something fascinating/terrifying about self-destructive behavior, and the way the mind can detach into that duality where it can both condemn whatever truly awful thing is about to happen and still send the signals to force its execution. I can barely imagine how much worse it is for people whose frontal cortex damage (or lack of proper development) prevents any sort of inhibition.
The Sharp-Dressed Man at the End of the Line
Or, When a Punchline Becomes a Story. When I was twelve I wrote a short story about a tribe of post-apocalyptic survivors crossing a wasteland to find sustenance, and in the end it turned out our protagonists were cockroaches travelling through a pantry to find the last Twinkie. I thought it was very Twilight Zone at the time. Fast forward a decade and GWB’s the president and my nuclear war paranoia is at its height and I feel a need to revisit the cockroach/Twinkie dynamic. Later, I found myself wondering what would happen to Dean and his fancy suit if they went on a post-nuclear road trip, and the novella Extinction Journals was born.
A Flood of Harriers
I didn’t hear of the CIA-coined term “blowback” until 2001, at which time it had gained a certain heavy significance. Since then— given our deeply troubled and oppressive history—I’ve been fascinated trying to quantify just how much blowback might be owed to the citizens of our country, and how I feel about the truth of that.
States of Glass
There’s a semi-curious phenomenon that occurs where, each time I stay at a hotel for work travel, I decide to allow myself the luxury of a long, hot shower, only to inevitably rush out mid-shower to jot down a new story idea on hotel stationery. “States of Glass” definitely found its genesis that way, as have many other stories. Someone postulated that it’s the travel aspect; that the new experiences and environments light up your brain’s alpha waves. Or maybe there’s something in that weird continental breakfast waffle batter. Could be both.
The Sleep of Judges
If you’ve ever been burglarized (or, say, robbed at gunpoint in a pizza restaurant parking lot) then you know the theft is just the very beginning of a long and unsettling road. I’m officially past my life quota for being stolen from, although I can still laugh about the guy who busted my car window to steal my backpack, since the only thing inside was a multi-year collection of Zoetrope literary magazines. Unless that guy figured out how to trade Mary Gaitskill stories for drugs, he must have been pretty disappointed. Also, a quick note for observant long-time readers: The activities of the residents of 17th (and Clem’s mission to stop them) might feel strangely familiar to you. And you might be right to feel that way . . .
Acknowledgments
Huge thanks go out to Cory Allyn at Night Shade whose editorial insights challenged me and pushed the book to a stronger and more visceral realm. J. David Osborne’s initial editorial work on “The Sleep of Judges” was also invaluable and helped me convert much of the strangeness from alien to human.
Brian Evenson’s Introduction, which manages to be entertaining and humorous and thoughtful (and still end on a hyper-Evensonian crisis of identity and reality) is perfect. I am forever grateful that it opens the door to this crooked house.
I often feel that Stephen Graham Jones and Craig “Nick Cutter” Davidson are the cool brothers I never had (but was lucky enough to find), and their inspiration is central to the existence of this collection. That they also took time out to vet the thing reminds me how lucky I am to know them.
Somehow the only musical artist I listened to while working on this book was Spark Master Tape. Silhouette of a Sunkken City has probably infected the work in slow/paranoid/violent ways I can’t ascertain. So thanks to Spark for the sonic backdrop.
A big shout out to Night Shade Books for believing in this crazy work enough to create such a lovely edition and to distribute it, for the first time, to unsuspecting readers around the world.
Eternal gratitude, always, to my family, for believing in my writing and encouraging me to do it despite everything else. I love you dearly.
To the magazine editors who took a risk and published these stories on their first go ‘round, thanks for digging me out of the slush pile and encouraging me to keep going.
And finally, to the readers who originally discovered these short stories in their primordial form, thank you for believing in and supporting my weird work for over a decade. That this collection exists at all is a tribute to your good will, positive energy, and discerning readership. Here’s to the next ten years and whatever madness lies ahead.
Publication Credits
“The League of Zeroes,” originally published in Verbicide #11 (2004).
“Persistence Hunting,” originally published in We Live Inside You (Swallowdown Press, 2011).
“The Oarsman,” originally published in Dark Discoveries #17 (2010).
“The Gravity of Benham Falls,” originally published in Ghosts at the Coast: The Best of Ghost Story Weekend Vol. II, edited by Dianna Rodgers (TripleTree Publishing, 2005).
“Dissociative Skills,” originally published in City Slab #6 (2005).
“Snowfall,” originally published in Verbicide #13 (2005).
“When Susurrus Stirs,” originally published in Bare Bone #10 (2007).
“Luminary,” originially published in Darker Than Tin, Brighter Than Sin, edited by Rabe Phillips (Cafepress Publishing, 2004).
“Trigger Variation,” originally published in The Vault of Punk Horror, edited by David Agranoff and Gabriel LLanas (Punk Horror Press, 2007)
“Cathedral Mother,” originally published in The Magazine of Bizarro Fiction #4 (2010).
“Swimming in the House of the Sea,” originally published in Angel Dust Apocalypse (Eraserhead Press, 2005).
“Saturn’s Game,” originally published in Angel Dust Apocalypse (Eraserhead Press, 2005).
“The Sharp Dressed Man at the End of the Line,” originally published in Angel Dust Apocalypse (Eraserhead Press, 2005).
“A Flood of Harriers,” originally published in Cemetery Dance #56 (2006)
“States of Glass,” originally published in We Live Inside You (Swallowdown Press, 2011).
“The Sleep of Judges” is original to this collection.
Jeremy Robert Johnson is the Wonderland Award-winning author of cult hits Skullcrack City, We Live Inside You, Angel Dust Apocalypse, and Extinction Journals, as well as the Stoker Award-nominated novel Siren Promised (with Alan M. Clark). His fiction has been acclaimed by The Washington Post and authors like Chuck Palahniuk, David Wong, and Jack Ketchum, and has appeared internationally in numerous anthologies and magazines. In 2008 he worked with The Mars Volta to tell the story behind their Grammy-winning album The Bedlam in Goliath. In 2010 he spoke about weirdness and metaphor as a survival tool at the Fractal 10 conference in Medellin, Colombia. Jeremy currently lives in Portland, Oregon, but one day he’ll have a cabin in the woods and a silent but respectful relationship with the owl who has long-ruled those territories. For more: www.jeremyrobertjohnson.com.
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