A Tour of Rob-Bell

Painting by Laura Raborn

Got some writerly friends coming in during early September and I'm putting them up at the lakehouse. I don't think they know quite what they're getting into, yet, but they will soon. But I figured I'd give them a little preview of the lakehouse and they can call dibs on bedrooms and whatnot.

The lakehouse is in Arkansas. It is called Rob-Bell, a funky portmanteau of my family names, Robinson & Campbell. It's my favorite spot on earth (except when the mosquitoes are really bad). It's been in my family since before the Civil War, but the "clubhouse" has been at this location since 1928, the year after the Mississippi and Arkansas Rivers flooded. And that flood changed the face of the nation, truly. A series of damns and levees were created from upper Ohio to Minnesota and Kansas all the way south to the mouth of the Mississippi. We're reaping the rewards of some of those decisions now, the loss of wetlands in Louisiana and lower Mississippi. At the time it was a good idea.

The effrontery of man. We reshape the world to suit our ends and a mere 74 years later, it comes back to bite us in the ass in the form of Hurricane Katrina. Sheesh. I can't wait to see the rewards two centuries of the oxymoronic "managed wildlife" brings us. The story "When the Bears Discovered Fire" might be a tad prophetic. Maybe armadillos will spread leprosy like it was the common cold. Huh. Good times.

Okay. Back to Rob-Bell.

So, when the flood of '27 occurred, this lake, Old River Lake, was not a lake at all but a tributary of the Arkansas River. Plum Bayou would empty into the Arkansas and farmers would float their cotton or grain on the bayou waters to meet steamers to take it down river to sell in Helena, Greenville, Natches, or New Orleans. Before that it was home to one of the oldest cultures of Native Americans, the Plum Bayou Indians. Some folks call 'em Toltecs, but they'd be wrong. Anywho, they lived here at the same time Romulus was marking out the borders of Rome, I think. Google it. "Plum Bayou Culture." The Toltec Indian mounds are maybe two miles from here. They're some of the oldest structures in America.

Obscured by the bushes to the left - right beyond the diving board, is the old opening to Plum Bayou. It was truncated when Old River Lake ceased being a part of the river - the Corp of Engineers capped the ends - and it became a lake.

The house was not built in 1928. It had been built before 1917 - out of massive planks of cypress - as barracks for an US Army base from south eastern Arkansas - I don't know quite where, honestly. My great great grandfather bought the small out-buildings for a song - or so I've been told - because the government was planning on burning them. Great-great-gramps Gordon Campbell put them together for a larger dwelling. Then he had a wraparound porch added. All of this was intended as a temporary building to only remain for a few years until a more permanent residence could be constructed. That was 83 years ago. Kinda speaks to the longevity of good construction materials and craftsmanship. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

When my mom and aunts were kids, they'd spend the whole summer out here. No air-conditioning. AT ALL. I don't think you yanks realize the magnitude of that. The heat you felt earlier this summer on the east coast - multiplied by the humidity? That's what we've got every summer. Sometime in the mid-fifties, they bought a air-conditioning unit that was the size of a credenza and sat in the corner of the above room, its heat exhaust pipe running out the window. My mom tells me they'd close all the doors, pull the shades, and spin records or listen to the radio, playing cards, all day, until the sun fell and her father, James Tappan Hornor but referred to by his friends and family as Big Tap, returned from working in Little Rock. No television out here until the 1980s. Neither reception nor inclination to purchase one. But don't worry, future guests, we got an HD entertainment center kicking.

They'd eat dinner here. Banquet style. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of booze that's been consumed in this house. It might not be able to float a battleship, but it surely could drown an elephant.

So, you're probably thinking, "Yeah, all this history crap is cool and whatnot, but where the hell am I gonna sleep? Get my freak on?"

You'll have your choice of one of three bedrooms in the clubhouse, or the guest house. Guest house is pretty awesome. Built in the early 1960s, it feels like you're stepping back 50 years. The decor has not changed in all that time. Unfortunately, no pics of it on my computer.


Side bedroom. Comfy and I just put in a new air-conditioner for you. The floor slopes to the east, dramatically.

The back bedroom. It has a vanity - so the ladies will probably want this one.
Hell, I'll let you guys sort out where you stay when you get here. Meanwhile, here's some more pics.
Moms is chilling on the dock, sometime in the 80s, I think. The small house overlooking her is the guest house.
My kids and friends partying on the dock 30 years after the last pic.
My mom partying on the dock in the late 1940s or early 1950s.

Did I mention the golf-course? It used to be a cow-pasture but great-great-gramps converted it to a golf course. Private. Yeah, I know. The John H. Jacobs Professional is so NOT ME. My dad had these made. His name is John Howze Jacobs. If you've ever seen me play golf, you'd know that I would never - NEVER EVER - put my name anywhere near the word "professional" as it pertains to golf (and, honestly, Dad ain't that great either).

Yes, I realize that I did nothing to earn this wonderful place other than be born into my family. I did, however, outswim millions of other sperm. So, there's that.

I've written large chunks of all my novels here and typed the words "The End" on This Dark Earth sitting right there. I'm considering doing a writer's retreat here and inviting some of my favorite authors to visit. It's a thought. I mean, I have this place. I might as well use it.
The old plantation bell. Ring that bastard at dinner time and you can hear it miles away.
Did I mention there's a bar? With booze? There is. That's just the extra level of service I like to go to for all my guests.
Anywho, we're waiting for you to visit (you know who you are). It's gonna be a big time.

Random Photos from Context 24

Airplane. The requisite artsy Instagram shot.

Me and the legendary David G. Hartwell. Note: No one actually vomited on his shirt. It just normally looks like that.

I had to beg John Scalzi NOT to do jazz hands. The pained expression on my face comes from my soul being stolen as the picture is taken.

On the YA literature panel. I had more to say than I thought. In general, on all the panels, I discovered I had more to say than I thought. Which means, I am a windbag.

It was hard not buying this book for the title (and cover) alone.

Promotions and News

"A sumptuous Southern Gothic thriller steeped in the distinct American mythologies of Cthulhu and the blues . . . Southern Gods beautifully probes the eerie, horror-infested underbelly of the South." - The Onion AV on Southern Gods

I just thought I should repeat that.

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So, a few items of note, today. First off, the Arkansas Democrat Gazette's own Phillip Martin has said some really kind things about Southern Gods over at his blog, blood, dirt & angels. This is notable because Phillip Martin - like the folks at The Onion AV - doesn't mince words. His blog and reviews in the newspaper ain't a popularity contest. He doesn't care if you like him. Which is, in my estimation, badass. Because I so desperately do care if you like Southern Gods.

Ahem. Anyway.

So check this out. Another Arkansas magazine published by the Arkansas Business Publishing Group has pimped my book release party scheduled for tomorrow night.

John Hornor Jacobs' Stunning Novel Southern Gods Featured at Butler Center Friday

I like the ring of that headline. And the author of the post, Karen Martin, was very kind to me as well. You notice any similarities in the names mentioned today?

That's right, they're married and work at different papers. That's pretty cool.

And finally, my friend Joe Howe of the fantastic Dead in the South review site has posted his interview with me in his ongoing series, We Interrupt This Author... over at the Horror World website. It was a fun interview.

Check out the interview, HERE.
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And finally, over at The Night Bazaar, I talk about doing research for novels and I'm giving away a signed copy of Southern Gods to a commenter. (I'm crossing my fingers it will be an American who wins, not because I dislike foreigners, but because I'm cheap with postage).

That is all.

The Onion AV and Hellnotes

Two great reviews in this week.

The first is from Jason Heller at The Onion AV. Yes, that's right. The Onion.

He says, that Southern Gods is "a sumptuous Southern Gothic thriller steeped in the distinct American mythologies of Cthulhu and the blues."

He goes on to say:

But rather than degenerating into some retro-themed True Blood arc, Southern Gods cannily recycles real-life blues history, from Robert Johnson’s apocryphal deal with the devil to the appropriation of black music by Sun Studio’s Sam Phillips (winkingly re-imagined as Sam Phelps of Helios Studio, employer of the missing promotion man). Jacobs’ view of the blues as a reservoir of arcane power and awe—which was how much of white society did view the blues at the time—is brilliantly conceived and subtly filtered into the plot.

And then he says some other stuff that you don't care about and follows it up with:

What keeps Southern Gods moving is Jacobs’ dark heart and graceful pace. Even when knee-deep in gore, his prose bears a perverse, leisurely politeness, and that down-home drawl renders his quiet moments of tenderness especially poignant. Jacobs’ absorbing passages about music shine brightest, though. Everything from the blues’ ritualistic rhythms to the Stonehenge-like radio antennae dotting the landscape are brought into vivid, poetic focus, even as they’re suffused with ancient weirdness. “You’d think I was going into Transylvania,” Bull quips early in the book, when he’s about to leave his relatively cosmopolitan Memphis for the unknown terrors of rural Arkansas, just across the Mississippi. That joke could also serve as Jacobs’ statement of intent...Southern Gods beautifully probes the eerie, horror-infested underbelly of the South.

And he gives it above average marks. Which is nice. So I've got that going for me.

You can go read the excised bits at The Onion AV Club. But there's no reason to. I've given you all the important stuff.

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Over at the Hellnotes blog, Sheila Merritt reviews Southern Gods and had some very nice things to say. Some of it went like this:

Sarah is complicated and compelling; passive and dutiful until confronted with insidious evil, it’s as though she blossoms in darkness. The characters, in general, are fascinating. They are easy to visualize courtesy of the author’s attention to detail concerning mannerisms, dress, and demeanor. Their dialogue well conveys the accents and speech patterns of the period, region, and class structure. Yet, the novel’s greatest strength is the way it builds to a shattering climax.

John Hornor Jacobs doesn’t allow the narrative to lapse into predictability in its last chapter. And the epilogue is highly unsettling. Yes, Southern Gods does call upon dark deities popularized by other writers. In composition and tone, however, it creates a malign magic all its own.

Go read her full review HERE.


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Context 24 - My Schedule

Next week, I'll be attending Context 24 in Columbus, Ohio. It looks like it's gonna be a great time and there are beaucoup great authors in attendance, including L.E. Modesitt and Seanan McGuire and many more.

Here are my panels, if you're curious.

Saturday, August 27

11 am: What Works in Young Adult Literature - Arena District Room
2 pm: Agents - The Good, The Bad, The Ugly - German Village Room
4 pm: The Genre Mash-Up - German Village Room (MODERATOR)
9 pm: Myth & Folklore in Fantasy - German Village Room

Sunday, August 28

1 pm: Taboos in Fiction - Main Programming

NOTES: You'll notice I'm moderating my first panel on The Genre Mash-Up. Should be interesting. If I can conduct myself half as well as Jesse Bullington did when he was ringleading my very first panel at World Horror, I will count myself successful.

In addition, in the panel regarding agents, I will have only GOOD THINGS to say about Stacia.

Fierce as the Grave

I've dipped my toes into the ebook waters with a short collection (25k words) of stories called Fierce as the Grave. It is only 99¢ and I've released it in hopes of turning on people to Southern Gods. If you liked Southern Gods, you might like this. If you liked Fierce as the Grave, you might like Southern Gods. See how that works? One hand washing the other.

So, tell your friends. Tell your neighbors.

That is all.

GET IT HERE.

The Big Idea and Other News

Over at John Scalzi's blog, he runs a series called The Big Idea. He was kind enough to let me reminisce about growing up being my father's shadow on hunting and fishing trips and how that affected me and consequently the gestation of Southern Gods.

Go check it out and comment. It's a nice little essay.

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In other news, Peter Andrew Leonard gave a glowing review of Southern Gods at his fantastic book review blog, The Man Eating Bookworm. So, get on over there and comment.

Historical, lyrical, and downright masterful. SOUTHERN GODS is a carefully executed excursion into the unmapped territory of madness and horror. Each sentence, each paragraph, displays Jacobs' care and precision, his dedication to craftsmanship.

He said that and other nice things. Go visit.

The Week in Review - Book Release Week

It's been seven days since the official release of Southern Gods. A lot of stuff has happened during that week. Let me recap it for you, in case you missed anything.

MONDAY, AUGUST 1st

Southern Gods was reviewed on Luca Veste's site, Guilty Conscience. He had to say this about SG:

It's exceptionally smart and sharp. Towards the end, it has some of the most shocking moments I've ever read. This story is dark. I mean it's as dark as dark can be. It contains some of the most horrific moments I've ever read in print. But, it's also beautiful...it's beautifully horrific. If there is such a thing.

Also, on Monday, I was lucky enough to appear in a guest blog on Stephen Blackmoore's L.A. NOIR. I indulge in a little navel gazery.

In his introduction, Stephen was kind enough to say this:

This is Lovecraftian Southern Gothic. It's got blues and family, horror and magic. I love this book. It doesn't shy away from horrors of family any more than it shies from the gibbering, squamous, eldritch-horror-from-the-stars type.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 2ND

On Tuesday, Erik Lundqvist reviewed Southern Gods. On the whole, he liked it, though he had some reservations. He said:

I suspect Southern Gods would make a kick ass movie with The Rock as Bull. Future novels by John Hornor Jacbos will pretty much automatically be added to the reading pile from now on. Any fan of horror will enjoy reading this book. But be warned, the book is best read wearing your wellies and rain coat so you can easily wash away the blood spatter afterwards.

Um, I don't know about The Rock. And it's interesting to see what other people think of the depictions of violence in your own work. While I felt it was nearing tame - with the exception of one scene - he felt it was overly gory. De gustebus non est disputandem.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 3rd

On Wednesday, I did an interview with The Qwillery. I said some stuff and I thought it sounded pretty good at the time.

You can check that out here.

Also, on Wednesday, Jimbo Mcleod, the proprietor of the Ginger Nuts of Horror review site put up a glowing review of Southern Gods. Jimbo said:

Jacob's has not forgotten that the heart of a good novel is a good story, and the story presented here is one worthy of high praise indeed. Too often a good story is swamped by unnecessary writing, writing that is just trying to be literate for the sake of it. Jacob's has struck the balance between strong assured, and powerful writing, and one hell of a good narrative.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 4th

Thursday is my duly appointed time to embloggen at The Night Bazaar. Which I did. I wrote about humor and the carnival tradition in literature. Heady stuff, and I channeled the scholar JHJ, lost sometime in 1994 after I graduated from college. My favorite bit of the blog?

Our lives are nasty, brutish, but long. We have ample time to savor our misery. Your life, your whole existence, will be lived in service to others, working for someone else until you begin to succumb to the slow oblivion that comes with being subsumed by a culture that cares only for appearance and consumption. You’ll grow fat, or painfully thin, your skin will crack and wither and you’ll even forget the memory of the blush of youth. And then, after a lifetime of toil and loneliness – yes loneliness because no one can ever truly know anyone else – you’ll die and people will forget what you look like as soon as the last shovel of dirt is tossed over your grave.

But you have to go to the blog and see how I then uplift your spirits. I break you down and then build you back up. It's the feel-good movie of the summer.

Also, on this date, Southern Gods hit #25 on the Hot New Releases on Amazon. Could still be there now, I don't know. But I do know this: tracking my sales is gonna drive me CRAZY!

FRIDAY, AUGUST 5th

Friday, the honorable Jedidiah Ayres was kind enough to mention Southern Gods in his Barnes & Noble Ransom Notes blog. He said:

Southern Gods by John Hornor Jacobs is flat-out one of the scariest books I’ve read in a long time; a sweaty, sultry trek through the secret geographical and spiritual places of the American South fueled by a delta blues soundtrack so transcendent and graphically conjured you’ll not be able to shake reverberations of the spectral tunes you’ve never actually heard for weeks (and the dreams they’ll conjure will keep your local mediums, pharmacists and psychoanalysts in the manner they’re accustomed to for years).

Also, on Friday, we discovered the audio sample to Southern Gods on the Brilliance Audio site. Let me tell you, it's bizarre hearing someone else read your words aloud.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 6th

Tom Picirilli was kind enough to review Southern Gods on his blog, The Cold Spot. I think the greatest thing about becoming a novelist is hearing from people you've read, you've idolized in some fashion, reading your work and enjoying it. Pic said this:

If you dig crime/horror/dark fantasy/southern gothic crossover (and who doesn’t?) written with a confident voice and a haunting, poignant edge, pick up John Hornor Jacobs’s debut novel SOUTHERN GODS. I recommend it wholeheartedly and look forward to whatever else Jacobs presents to us next.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 7th

Sunday was a day of rest, with no news.

MONDAY, AUGUST 8th

Peter Andrew Leonard was kind enough to interview me on The Maneating Bookworm, which, BTW, is a fantastic book review site. You should bookmark it. Here's a little snippet of my interview:

JHJ: I don’t write with any visual medium in mind. The hard part of writing is transferring experience – even false, imaginary experience – into prose. So, there’s more than just the visual that goes into effective writing, in my humble opinion. Conveying an experience takes in sight, of course, but there are so many more sensations that feed into memory – the smell of grass and the sound of wind and the far off howl of a jet passing in the sky, the invisible pressure of sunshine on skin and the taste of spring air on the tongue. All these non-visual cues going into experience that are far more intrinsic to sense-memory and hook the reader not in their brain - like most vision does - but somewhere behind their navel. Viseral, is the word, I believe.

And, on this date in history, I wrote and posted the blog you are currently reading. How's that for meta?

BREAKING NEWS!

Just learned that my old friend, Joe Howe aka @kentallard1 has posted another review on his awesome horror review site, DEAD IN THE SOUTH. He is too kind, saying:

A lot of writers these days seem to miss a central truth about their vocation: It is a combination of art and craft. They embrace the art side, telling stories, but shy away from the hard work of crafting words together in just the right order, the tedious business of finding the proper phrase to communicate to the reader what the writer is attempting to say. John is not one of those people. He labors hard at finding the right word, the appropriate phrase. Southern Gods was already a good book when I first read it in an early draft, better than the vast majority of what’s published today, but John was willing to perform surgery on it to make it even better. That dedication to his craft is going to make John an important writer, not just in the relatively small horror field, but in all of fiction.

I'm blushing. Wow.

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I'd like to thank all of those people who were so kind to either allow me to promote Southern Gods through their venues or helped me to promote it through reviews. I cannot express how grateful I am for all of your support.

Thank you.

WHY I'M BADASS: Matthew J. McBride

There comes a time in every journalist's career where it is better to just ask the questions and let the interview subject answers without any input from the interviewer. No fluffing the questions, no investiture of personality. Just bare bones and break-neck. This is that time.

However, it wouldn't be a WHY I'M BADASS interview without a little preamble, so I offer you this.

I took his advice - over there on the right! ;)

He is a warrior-poet. A slab of tenderized meat riding a turbo-charged hell-hound. He is force of nature. He's younger than me, and looks it, yet he's got kids older than I am. He's a drug laced gumbo of hubris, audacity, and pure maniacal genius with a generous helping of bonhomie.

Put your mitts together for Matthew J. McBride, total badass.

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JHJ: Why are you badass? Please explain your badassery.

MJM: I’m badass because I once had to fight five guys at the same time—then went to work the next day with five broken bones in my face and used a chainsaw for ten hours in the heat. After that, I wrote a letter to the newspaper about the Chief of Police and the Prosecuting Attorney and I publicly humiliated them for turning a blind eye to the law. In fact, I’d like to do it again. Sheriff Chris Heitman, of Maries County, Missouri, you, sir, are a pussy for not doing your job. PA Terry Delany Schwartz, you are nothing more than a piece of sweaty ball sack lent.

JHJ: What’s the most bad-fucking-ass thing you’ve ever done?

MJM: I once outran the police on my motorcycle and the deputy was going so fast trying to catch me that his sirens blew off the cop car and he was forced to reattach them with duck tape. I parked my bike in a friend’s garage and called my wife to come and get me. After that, we drove through town drinking beer in her Tahoe and laughed as the cops searched for me.

JHJ: How many weapons do you own (not including your hands)?

MJM: Everything is a weapon. As a badass, everyday I’m surrounded by weapons. Any common household item is a weapon when you’re a badass. You can kill a man with a newspaper if you know how, and I do. Ink pin? Weapon. That stapler over there, yeah, try coming after me once I staple your eyes shut. A can of hairspray = weapon. Why? Because I’ll mace you and then I’ll set your face on fire. I collect hardback books and I’ll hit you in the teeth with the spine if I have to.

JHJ: Even badasses have a soft side. A mark of a true badass is to be able to admit his or her love. What do you love without stint or reservation? (If you say “My kids” or “My cat” you are not badass. Those are given. Be bold.)

MJM: I love shotguns, chainsaws, and hand grenades. That’s about as soft as my badass exterior will allow. If a badass does have a soft side, then he is not a true badass, he is a candyass—and nobody likes a candyass.

JHJ: What’s the most badass book ever written?

MJM: FRANK SINATRA IN… oh, wait a minute. I’m going to go with WINTER’S BONE. Although KNOCKEMSTIFF was pretty badass. Damn. They both had a profound effect on me. Coin toss.

JHJ: What’s the most badass movie you’ve ever seen?

MJM: THE MATRIX was pretty badass, but so was PULP FICTION. Damn, again. My inability to choose just confirms what I’ve already suspected. 100% BADASS. Only a true badass would have trouble deciding which is more badass.

JHJ: When you’re out and about, being a total fucking badass, what music do you listen to?

MJM: iPod. At the gym or on the motorcycle, it’s hard shit. Lamb of God, Pantera, Bullet for my Valentine, Atreyu, Job For A Cowboy. When I’m out and about, doing other badass stuff, its hip-hop or gangster rap. With a shitload of bass. I like to try’n blow my 12-inch Kicker Competition subs apart.

JHJ: You ever kill a man? Describe how you’d kill your worst enemy. Make it good.

MJM: Not yet—but when I do, I’ll cut his head off with a chainsaw and he won’t like it. Then I’ll do a burnout in the pool of blood that forms around his headless body with my crotch rocket. After that, I’ll pound a shot of gasoline and drink motor oil through a funnel.

JHJ: How would you dispose of his/her body?

MJM: I’d crush the bones and snort the dust, then burn the skin and eat the meat.

JHJ: When you’re at the Badass Cave, cold chilling with your significant other(s) – and you guys are going to drink and feast and get freaky. Describe that badass night – your meal, your music, your drink. Getting your badass super-freak on. Don’t be shy. We’re all freaks here.

MJM: A perfect badass night would begin with the consumption of alcoholic beverages. We’d begin by riding waverunners on the river, because we live on a river. More alcohol would be consumed, I’m sure of this. We also live on a farm, and since we kill our own meat around here, I’d throw steaks, venison, or chicken on the grill—along with an abundance of bacon, which I have in strong supply. More drinks.

In the background I’d set the mood with Old Blue Eyes. We’d eat and drink as the sun dropped behind our barn like a big orange ball. Then I’d carry her upstairs and throw her to the bed and ravage her time and time again like the true badass that I am. Post coitus, I’d step onto the back porch and howl at the moon as I fired a shotgun into the pitch-black night.

JHJ: The haters got lucky and caught your badass self by the border. You’re about to be hanged. What are your badass last words?

MJM: Hey, that almost happened to me once—but, well, because a true badass never gives up, I’d attempt a parliamentary procedure and stage a filibuster to drag the process out as long as I could—give my brain time to formulate a plan. I’d begin by insulting them ... Fuck you guys. And fuck your shitty water! I couldn’t even drink it. I mean, all I did is brush my teeth with that shit back in the hotel and I got sick. Seriously. I don’t get it. What’s wrong with the water around here anyway? I mean, you bastards drink it all the time and it doesn’t hurt you. By this point, I’d either come up with something even more badass or I’d swing—but I’d be doing it in style.

A true badass would never go down without a fight.


JHJ: So, you write books, do you? What’s your work about and how is it badass?

MJM: I just had an eBook published called FRANK SINATRA IN A BLENDER. It’s badass because I wrote about a Private Detective named Nick Valentine and in the first paragraph he snorts a line of Oxycontin at a crime scene. He carries a shotgun and a chainsaw. He orders three drinks at a time and strippers love him. That’s badass.

JHJ: Where can we buy that bad mama-jama?

MJM: Here is a link to the author page on my publishers website. Speaking of badass, be sure’n check out a book by my pal Scott Phillips called Rum, Sodomy, and False Eyelashes. Now that title is badass.


JHJ: Thanks for playing. You are totally badass.

MJM: Thanks for having me and I know.

Official Release Day & Other News

I forgot that today was the official release of Southern Gods. The print date changed so many times that when the ebook date, i.e. the OFFICIAL release date, rolled around, it was almost old news to me. Almost.

But now I'm just sitting here gobsmacked that I have a book released into the wilds. It's an exhilarating feeling.

So, if you've been waiting for an ebook, you can get yours at the following places -

AMAZON B&N (forthcoming) WEBSCRIPTION

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I guest blog over at Stephen Blackmoore's house, L.A. Noir. He says some nice things which means a lot to me because not only is Stephen one smart cookie, but he's written one of the best books I've read in a long while, City of the Lost.

I indulge in a little bit of navel gazery and second guessing myself at his blog, but that's okay, right?

Right?

Check it out here.

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Erik Williams was kind enough to give Southern Gods a little praise and pimpery. Erik, if you didn't know, is a helluva author and a co-grunt from Borderlands Press Boot Camp. He's got oodles of books out and coming out and you can check them all out here. His forthcoming novel, DEMON, is crazy good.

Anyway, go over to his blog and say hello.

That link is right CHERE.

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More news when I have it.

Wow. I have a book out.

That is all.

WHY I'M BADASS: Martel Sardina

I do not know enough about Martel to riff on where she hails from, though judging by her accent, it's far north of the Mason-Dixon line. I can tell you this, whatever I think about her accent, she does not give one fuck.

For instance, we were at the World Horror Convention in Austin, Texas, and I was deep in my cups due to some good news - pretty damn good news - so I was understandably tight, traipsing my way from room party to room party. I would see Martel in passing and hail her, resoundingly. Without batting an eye, she's say, "Ya, oh hey, John," glance at me to check my level of sobriety and then move away.

Only later did I realize that instead of calling her Martel, I'd been referring to her as Martina, like she was some Czech athlete.

So, here's how badass she is: she didn't break me down and kick my ass for garbling her name. That, mi amigos, is kindness. And kindness is badass. And Martel Sardina is totally badass.

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JHJ: Why are you badass? Please explain your badassery.

MS: A true badass does not explain her badassery. Much like being cool, it’s something you just are.

JHJ: Either I'm going to have to change this first question OR folks are gonna have to understand the concept of interview. I ask the questions. You answer them, wot? What’s the most bad-fucking-ass thing you’ve ever done?

MS: Which of these is the most badass? Being the lead singer in a metal band called The Janitors of Anarchy, taking an unauthorized water taxi ride in Cabo San Lucas, or being tied to railroad tracks (a la Snidely Whiplash) in an art house film? The water taxi was the most frightening of the three for sure.

JHJ: I'm going to go with being the lead singer of The Janitors of Anarchy. What do I win?

MS: ...

JHJ: Nothing? Shoot. Okay. Moving on. How many weapons do you own (not including your hands)?

MS: One. Sweeney Todd, the world’s fiercest attack wiener dog. Watch your ankles, folks.

JHJ: *Shudder* Death by weiner dog is terrifying. Speaking of weiners, even badasses have a soft side. A mark of a true badass is to be able to admit her love. What do you love without stint or reservation? (If you say “My kids” or “My cat” you are not badass. Those are given. Be bold.)

MS: Tex Avery cartoons. A real badass can enjoy a good laugh now and then.

JHJ: What’s the most badass book ever written?

MS: The Deep Blue Good-By by John D. MacDonald.

JHJ: I'm ashamed to admit I haven't read that one. It's going on my list. What’s the most badass movie you’ve ever seen?

MS: True Romance

JHJ: That is the second time True Romance has been mentioned in this interview series. I'm thinking it's probably ranking up there in the top badass movies. Okay, next up. When you’re out and about, being a total fucking badass, what music do you listen to?

MS: I love all kinds of music. So it could be anything from Buddy Holly to Motorhead.

JHJ: You ever kill a man? Describe how you’d kill your worst enemy. Make it good.

MS: On paper, yes. For real, no. Sometimes killing is the easy way out. I don’t know that I’m interested in killing my worst enemy per se. I think breaking the person’s spirit and letting them live is a far worse punishment.

JHJ: Good point. But just saying you did kill 'em. How would you dispose of his/her body?

MS: Toss ‘em in quicksand.

JHJ: Very good, effendi. You are as wise as you are crafty.

MS: ...

JHJ: Um. Yeah. Well, there's that impression. So, when you’re at the Badass Cave, cold chilling with your significant other(s) – and you guys are going to drink and feast and get freaky. Describe that badass night – your meal, your music, your drink. Getting your badass super-freak on. Don’t be shy. We’re all freaks here.

MS: Drinking margaritas and eating enchiladas while watching JUSTIFIED. After that, I’d break out my record player and listen to some classic rock on vinyl. Whitesnake’s “Slide It In” or Rainbow’s “Man on the Silver Mountain” immediately come to mind.

JHJ: Heh. Whitesnake. Hair band who likes groupies names their band Whitesnake? Hehehe. I guess I could've named my band Albinoworm, or Purplemushroomhead. Those names would've slayed.

MS: ...

JHJ: What? You don't think so?

MS: ...

JHJ: Dang, tough crowd here today. Okay, the haters got lucky and caught your badass self by the border. You’re about to be hanged. What are your badass last words?

MS: “I always knew it would come to this. I’ve got no regrets. I’ve had a good run.”

JHJ: So, you write books, do you? What’s your work about and how is it badass?

MS: I write short fiction and poetry. The types of stories I write range from romance to noir crime to horror. My work is badass because I like to dwell on characters and/or subjects that are uncomfortable to read about. I like to shed light on things that most people would rather ignore.

JHJ: Where can we buy some of those bad mama-jamas?

MS: I currently have a poem in A SEA OF ALONE: POEMS FOR ALFRED HITCHCOCK and an essay in BUTCHER KNIVES AND BODY COUNTS. Both were published by Dark Scribe Press.

You can watch the trailer for BUTCHER KNIVES AND BODY COUNTS here.

And if you want to find out what I’m up to, you can find me online at www.martelsardina.com or follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/martelsardina or friend me on Facebook.

JHJ: Thanks for playing. You are totally badass.