The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 17

by Stephen Jones

  The Kong overkill continued with an animatronic figure, light-up snowglobe, drinking flask, stoneware stein, various shooter glasses, lunchbox with thermos, chrome lighter, string of head lights, two types of headknockers, six different kinds of candy dispensers and other tie-in tat.

  Imported from Japan by X-Plus USA, “Universal Monster Resin Busts” featured nicely detailed eight-inch pre-painted sculpts of Boris Karloff’s Son of Frankenstein and Lon Chaney, Jr’s The Mummy’s Tomb. Also available were twelve-inch pre-painted Bust Coin Banks of Karloff’s The Mummy and Chaney, Jr’s The Wolf Man.

  Available by mail-order only, the “Universal Studios Monsters Halloween Village” contained Dr Frankenstein’s Castle, Count Dracula’s Castle, The Mummy’s Tomb and The Creature’s Black Lagoon and featured collectable figurines, spooky sounds, glowing lights and real swirling fog! Somewhat predictably, the same set was a third more expensive in the UK than it was in the US.

  “The Munsters Holiday Wreath” was available just in time for Halloween.

  A twelve-inch detailed collectible figure of Vincent Price as The Abominable Dr. Phibes with interchangeable accessories was available in a window box from Majestic Studios.

  Majestic also offered two twelve-inch figures of vampire Barnabas Collins (“1795” and “Present Day”) from the cult 1960s TV series Dark Shadows, along with a figure of werewolf Quentin Collins from the same show. All three figures came with interchangeable parts and accessories. Reel Toys’ second series of “Cult Classics” featured poseabale action figures of Freddy Krueger from Wes Craven’s New Nightmare, The Tall Man from Phantasm, Frank the rabbit from Donnie Darko and Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

  Meanwhile, Sota Toys’ second series of “Now Playing” seven-inch articulated figures featured Jeepers Creepers 2, Killer Klowns from Outer Space and The Mummy Returns, while a Darkman mini-bust was limited to 1,500 pieces and featured interchangeable heads and hands. Series 3 included figures from Dog Soldiers, Dune, John Carpenter’s The Thing and Legend.

  Also from Sota, “Nightmares of Lovecraft” featured seven-inch articulated action figures of Dagon, Pickman’s Model and, of course, Cthulhu himself. A limited edition six-inch Cthulhu Mini-Santa Plush was also available for the holiday season.

  The second series of Mez-Itz’s “Cinema of Fear” included new figures of Freddy, Leatherface and Jason in a three-pack.

  The “Friday the 13th 25th Anniversary Action Figures Boxed Set” featured action figures of Sack-Head Jason, Pamela Voorhees, and Jason’s shrine to his dead mother.

  For the dedicated serial killer fan, Otis’ mask from Rob Zombie’s The Devil’s Rejects sold as a prop replica displayed inside a shadow box, limited to 250 pieces.

  A Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Buffy vs. Dracula Bust” was limited to 5,000 pieces sculpted by Gentle Giant, while Pablo Viggiano’s “D’Hoffryn Bust” from the same show would mostly likely appeal to scorned women. A super-articulate deluxe figure of rival vampire slayer “Faith” was also available.

  Mini-paperweights of Jack Skellington and Sally the Patchwork Girl were based on Tim Burton’s cult movie The Nightmare Before Christmas.

  In February, The Hammer House of Horror announced it was producing a line of “Gothic chic” fashion, to be created by bespoke tailor Gresham Blake, and Clive Barker’s “Moon Me” T-shirt design was available in black with Barker’s signature on the front.

  Available in time for Halloween from Artbox Entertainment, the “Universal Frankenstein Trading Cards” set included seventy-two base cards depicting the 1931 movie, along with randomly inserted glow-in-the-dark and sketch cards. The set was also available in a limited edition tin and trading card binder.

  A poster for Fritz Lang’s 1927 science fiction film Metropolis sold in November to a private collector in America for a record $690,000. The previous record, set in 1997, was $453,000 for Universal’s The Mummy. The sepia-coloured poster designed by German graphic artist Heinz Schulz-Neudamm was one of only four copies known to still exist.

  Meanwhile, the Dalek Supreme, from the 1979 Doctor Who serial Destiny of the Daleks, was purchased for £36,000 in November at a charity auction benefiting London’s Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Children.

  World Horror Convention 2005 was held in New York City over April 7th–10th and boasted an impressive line-up of Special Guests of Honour that included authors Harlan Ellison, Joe R. Lansdale, Tim Lebbon, Jack Ketchum, Tom Piccirilli and Mort Castle, filmmaker Mick Garris, artist Allen Koszowski, editors Tom and Elizabeth Monteleone, poet Linda Addison, and Master of Ceremonies Stanley Wiater. Somewhat predictably, Buffy actress Amber Benson failed to show up. F. Paul Wilson was the recipient of the 2005 Grand Master Award.

  It was the West Coast’s turn to host the 2004 Bram Stoker Awards, held in Burbank, California, over June 25th–26th. Among the many people recognised by the members of the Horror Writers Association for Superior Achievement in Writing were Peter Straub for his Novel In the Night Room, and John Everson and Lee Thomas, who tied for First Novel with Covenant and And Stained, respectively. Kealan-Patrick Burke’s The Turtle Boy picked up the award for Long Fiction, while Nancy Etchemendy’s “Nimitseahpah” (from The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction) won for Short Fiction. Thomas F. Monteleone’s Fearful Symmetries collected the Fiction Collection Award, and the Anthology Award went to The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror 17th Annual edited by Ellen Datlow, Kelly Link and Gavin Grant. Judi Rohrig’s electronic Hellnotes won for Non-fiction and Jai Nitz’s Heaven’s Devils was awarded Illustrated Narrative. The Screenplay Award was a tie between Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Shaun of the Dead, and Clive Barker’s Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War and Steve Burt’s Oddest Yet tied for Work for Young Readers. The Women at the Funeral by Corinne De Winter won for Poetry Collection, and Tom Piccirilli’s poetry anthology The Devil’s Wine received the award for Alternative Forms. Delirium Books picked up the Specialty Press Award, and the Hammer Award for outstanding service to the HWA went to webmaster Steve Dorato. Michael Moorcock was announced as the recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award.

  FantasyCon 2005 was held over the first weekend in October in the West Midlands town of Walsall. Guests of Honour were Mark Chadbourn, Simon Clark and Steven Erikson, with Graham Joyce as Master of Ceremonies.

  The 2005 British Fantasy Society Awards were presented at the convention Banquet on October 2nd, and the winner of The August Derleth Award for Best Novel was Stephen King’s The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower, which was accepted by Graham Joyce. Marie O’Regan collected the Best Novella Award for Christopher Fowler’s Breathe, while Paul Meloy was on hand to accept the Best Short Story Award for his tale “Black Static”. Andrew Hook’s The Alsiso Project was voted Best Anthology and he also collected the Best Small Press Award for Elastic Press. PS publisher Peter Crowther accepted the Best Collection Award on behalf of Stephen Gallagher for Out of His Mind, Best Artist went to Les Edwards, and Ramsey Campbell accepted the Karl Edward Wagner Special Award on behalf of Nigel Kneale. The winners were presented with a new-look British Fantasy Award depicting a winged demon perched on a rock, designed and sculpted by Arthur Payn.

  The World Fantasy Convention was held November 3rd–6th in Madison, Wisconsin. One of the best World Fantasy Conventions for several years, the eclectic Guest of Honour list included artist Kinuko Y. Craft and writers Graham Joyce, Robert Weinberg and Terri Windling. Peter Straub was the Toastmaster, and April Derleth and Walden Derleth were the Special Guests from publishing imprint Arkham House.

  For the first time, the International Horror Guild Awards recognising outstanding achievement in horror and dark fantasy were announced at a ceremony at the convention. Lost won for Television, Shaun of the Dead for Film and The Third Alternative for Periodical. The Non-fiction Award went to A Serious Life by D. M. Mitchell, Anthology went to Acquainted with the Night edited by Barbara Roden and Christopher Roden, and Collection went to The Wavering Knife by Brian Ev
enson. Don Tumasonis won the Short Form Award for “A Pace of Change” (from Acquainted with the Night), Daniel Abraham was awarded Intermediate Form for “Flat Dance” (from The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction), and the Long Form Award went to Lucius Shepard for Viator. John Harwood’s The Ghost Writer picked up the award for First Novel, and Ramsey Campbell’s The Overnight won the Novel Award. Artist Gahan Wilson was announced as the recipient of the annual Living Legend Award.

  As usual, the World Fantasy Awards were presented at the Banquet on the Sunday afternoon. Robert Morgan’s Sarob Press won the Special Award, Non-Professional, and the Special Award, Professional went to the ubiquitous S. T. Joshi for his many years of scholarship. John Picacio was presented with the Artist Award in front of his proud parents, and Margo Lanagan’s Black Juice won for Collection. The award for Anthology was a tie between Acquainted with the Night edited by the Rodens, and Dark Matter: Reading the Bones edited by Sheree R. Thomas. Margo Lanagan also won the Short Fiction Award for her story “Singing My Sister Down”, Michael Shea’s “The Growlimb” (from F&SF) picked up the Novella Award, and Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell won for Novel. Life Achievement Awards were presented to Carol Emshwiller and publisher Tom Doherty.

  Several months ago I was travelling on a tube train across London when I noticed a young woman reading a book further down the same carriage.

  A few years ago, that would have been no big deal. But in these days of cheap iPod downloads and multi-media cellular phones, seeing anybody actually reading a book, anywhere, has to be considered a rarity.

  That it just happened to be a copy of the latest volume of The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror merely made the event all the more pleasurable for me. The occasional copy of The Da Vinci Code or the latest Harry Potter adventure I expect, but to see someone actually reading a horror book – any horror book – is unusual these days. The fact that it was also an anthology made the incident akin to discovering that a living Dodo was sharing the same carriage!

  The problem is that almost nobody reads books any more – any books, let alone horror titles. There are too many distractions in our modern lives for most people to commit their time to sitting down and absorbing two or three-hundred pages of quite often complex prose. Better to wait for the DVD instead.

  The problem is that we are producing too many books for an ever-decreasing readership. Last year, according to research firm Bowker, for only the second time in twenty years publishers in Britain produced more English-language books than their American counterparts, despite the US total for 2005 being that country’s second-highest on record.

  Whereas US output dropped for the first time since 1999, the number of titles churned out in the UK leapt by 28 per cent. With Britain having a population one-fifth the size of America, this is obviously an unsustainable situation. And although horror fiction only accounted for a very small proportion of the 206,000 new titles published in the UK in 2005, it can still be seen as a microcosm of the problems affecting the publishing industry as a whole.

  The number of new books being produced has been rising steadily since the mid-1980s, and the amount of books coming from American publishers has jumped by an incredible 51 per cent since 1995.

  Meanwhile, in 2005 it was also claimed that if the current rate of decline continued, books would no longer be borrowed from British libraries in just seventeen years’ time. With an estimated yearly decline of 2.2 million, borrowings had slumped from 55.2 million in 1997–98 to just 39.7 million for the 2003–04 period. The writing is already on the wall – at least for those who can still be bothered to read it.

  With production costs getting increasingly expensive every year, publishers will be forced to squeeze their mid-lists even more than they already have to make their sales figures work – especially for high-discounting outlets such as supermarkets and the Internet. Which means saying goodbye to most first novels, collections and anthologies. Only those titles making the biggest profits – usually reflected in the size of their advances and publicity budgets – will survive.

  As for the rest, there’s always the small press imprints or print-on-demand publishing, but you can’t earn enough money from those markets to survive as a full-time writer or editor. Which means that for future generations, the idea of someone having a career as a writer may be just as esoteric a job as being a gas-lamp lighter or an animal trainer in a circus.

  With ever more technological advances flooding the market every day to distract us, and the growth of an apparently sub-literate population, how long can it be before the printed word goes the way of the vinyl record album?

  So then, who is actually reading all these books we’re currently producing? Somebody must be. I meet a few of them at the conventions I attend each year, and an even smaller number contact me through my website. As for the rest, I can only assume that they are out there happily picking up the occasional title from a chainstore or Amazon.com because they like the cover design or recognize a name whose work they know and enjoy.

  Such as that passenger who was reading The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror on the London Underground. Of course, I considered approaching her, introducing myself and asking what she thought of the book. And then I thought better of that idea. I didn’t want to scare her off buying the next one. So I left the train at the next stop with a self-satisfied grin, and the thought that I had at least one reader out there that I would probably never meet but who would hopefully continue to read horror. Perhaps even seek out more work by some of those authors she first encountered in my anthology.

  So if you happen to be that woman who was on the tube, and you are reading this current volume, then all I can say is . . . thank you. This genre needs more people like you – many more – or there may not be a mass-market horror field around in a decade’s time. But then again, there may not be such things as books either . . .

  The Editor

  June, 2006

  RAMSEY CAMPBELL

  The Decorations

  ONE OF THE MOST difficult aspects of compiling The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror each year is deciding which story by Ramsey Campbell to reprint.

  More than any other author working in the genre, Campbell continues to produce consistently superior short fiction, whether it is for mainstream publishers or obscure small press imprints.

  This year it was particularly difficult to choose between all the original short fiction he had published, and in the end I decided that the only way to do his work justice was to reprint the two stories that bookend this current volume.

  The Decorations was the first book from Alpenhouse Apparitions, a new imprint of Sutton Hoo Press, dedicated to publishing the best supernatural fiction and other genres in hand-made letterpress editions. A year in the making, The Decorations was printed from Joanna types with Perpetua titling on dampened Johannot and Somerset papers. The standard edition was bound in quarter cloth with French marbled paper and foil stamped on the spine. The deluxe edition was bound in a contemporary half-leather and marbled paper binding and housed in a clamshell box.

  “‘The Decorations’ was written for this special edition,” explains the author, “and I thought it might make a good Christmas present – hence the Yuletide theme. Mind you, anyone who has read ‘The Chimney’ will know that Christmas can be a macabre time in my tales.

  “Maybe it’s the result of receiving that Rupert Bear annual for Christmas when I was a toddler.”

  “HERE THEY ARE AT LAST,” David’s grandmother cried, and her face lit up: green from the luminous plastic holly that bordered the front door and then, as she took a plump step to hug David’s mother, red with the glow from the costume of the Santa in the sleigh beneath the window. “Was the traffic that bad, Jane?”

  “I still don’t drive, Mummy. One of the trains was held up and we missed a connection.”

  “You want to get yourself another man. Never mind, you’ll always have Davy,” his grandmother panted as she waddled to embra
ce him.

  Her clasp was even fatter than last time. It smelled of clothes he thought could be as old as she was, and of perfume that didn’t quite disguise a further staleness he was afraid was her. His embarrassment was aggravated by a car that slowed outside the house, though the driver was only admiring the Christmas display. When his grandmother abruptly released him he thought she’d noticed his reaction, but she was peering at the sleigh. “Has he got down?” she whispered.

  David understood before his mother seemed to. He retreated along the path between the flower-beds full of grass to squint past the lights that flashed MERRY CHRISTMAS above the bedroom windows. The second Santa was still perched on the roof; a wind set the illuminated figure rocking back and forth as if with silent laughter. “He’s there,” David said.

  “I expect he has to be in lots of places at once.”

  Now that he was nearly eight, David knew that his father had always been Santa. Before he could say as much, his grandmother plodded to gaze at the roof. “Do you like him?”

  “I like coming to see all your Christmas things.”

  “I’m not so fond of him. He looks too empty for my liking.” As the figure shifted in another wind she shouted “You stay up there where you belong. Never mind thinking of jumping on us.”

  David’s grandfather hurried out to her, his slippers flapping on his thin feet, his reduced face wincing. “Come inside, Dora. You’ll have the neighbours looking.”

  “I don’t care about the fat old thing,” she said loud enough to be heard on the roof and tramped into the house. “You can take your mummy’s case up, can’t you, David? You’re a big strong boy now.”

  He enjoyed hauling the wheeled suitcase on its leash – it was like having a dog he could talk to, sometimes not only in his head – but bumping the luggage upstairs risked snagging the already threadbare carpet, and so his mother supported the burden. “I’ll just unpack quickly,” she told him. “Go down and see if anyone needs help.”