Freebie Friday time!

Evening all,

A busy Friday today, so freebie Friday is a little later than usual today - our extract today comes from Jeff Gardiner's BRED IN THE BONE, which is a wonderful story of family relations gone awry - or at least, a family life that would be hard for most of us to recognise...

Copies of No Monsters Allowed are presently available on both Lulu and Amazon, and you can check out those links at http://www.lulu.com/shop/alex-davis/no-monsters-allowed/paperback/product-21240457.html and http://www.amazon.co.uk/No-Monsters-Allowed-Alex-Davis/dp/1907133828

Enjoy the extract, and more to follow next week!

Cheers

Alex

BRED IN THE BONE

By Jeff Gardiner

I can’t complain about my childhood. I had everything a kid could need: toys, my own room, food, a regular routine and I could watch the TV as much as I wanted. The only thing I felt some regret about my parents being too strict about me seeing friends, but they had their reasons and I understood them too.

To be honest I didn’t have many friends anyway, only Robbo at school and we got into some trouble together, although I was scared of doing anything too bad as it only upset my parents and you don’t want to know my Dad when he’s angry. Me and Robbo were never bullies or anything like that, just a bit naughty – you know; lazy, not bothering to do the work properly, losing books, giggling and chatting – the sort of things that really irritate teachers, but never get you into serious trouble. We bunked as well, but were clever about it and could expertly forge absence notes. Our form tutor never seemed unduly bothered. I never told my teachers anything, I just kept quiet at school and everyone left me to get on with my own thing.

After each day at school, I’d walk home, as it’s only a couple of miles, and go to the chip shop for our regular family order. I usually got home about five and I’d have to tidy up the place – usually the mess left by my Dad – feed the dog, a bull terrier called Trooper, and then when Mum came home at six she’d stick the dinner in the microwave and I’d go and wake up Dad.

Dad could be a bit unpredictable at times, but mum was expert at soothing him and they’ve always been affectionate, so I’ve got used to them kissing and cuddling in front of me. Mum always asked about school and I’d tell her lies about what I’d learnt which kept her happy. Dad would always show me his models: he called himself an artist, although he’d never displayed his work and refused to lower himself by joining the commercialised art-world, as it’s so full of ‘rich bastards who wouldn’t understand art if it was crammed up their arseholes’. Dad always made me laugh and we did a lot together. We liked movies and he’d let me stay up into the small hours, even on school nights, watching his favourite films. I’ve got lots of happy memories of times with Dad.

Dad made my favourite toy: a doll – a strange-looking creature that had no name, but that I had always loved and kept in my bed. It might seem a bit strange for a boy to have a doll, but it was just a toy creature – anyway I loved him the best. Dad was really generous in his art and he’d always be making me things and working out what I’d like next. He was thoughtful like that.

Sometimes I’d get a bit bored and wish I had a brother or sister, or that I could go out more with Robbo, but Mum and Dad were good company and I understood that I was needed to help them out with things around the house. Honestly I didn’t mind. It sounds weird, but I did all the cleaning, cooking and washing, not because they made me, but I knew that they were busy and I had the time to do these things. I was proud to be able to help my parents in this way. I never complained.

Extract and full story copyright © Jeff Gardiner 2009

Freebie Friday 3

Evening all,

It's that time of the week again - FREEBIE FRIDAY is here, and time for another sample from NO MONSTERS ALLOWED. This time we're taking a sneak peek into 'Old Bones' by Shannon Quinn, a fantastic example of human horror quirkily delivered from the perspective of a cat. Roger is a great protagonist for this, that perhaps sees more than the people around him do, which is part of what makes this story so fascinating. So, without, further ado...

OLD BONES
By Shannon Quinn

Roger promised to visit his girl as long as he didn’t have to wear the bonnet. He has to draw the line somewhere. He hears her small steps, her breath coming in excited gasps. He sees her tangled brown curls in the distance. She is tripping along behind her mother.

Roger waits on the front stoop, soaking the last of the summer heat from the cement steps.

The girl’s eyes find him, “Hello Kitty Cat!” She is slapping him repeatedly on the head. Roger assumes she believes she is petting him. Her mother is fumbling with a set of keys,

“I said be gentle with that thing. You probably shouldn’t even be touching it, it could have rabies or fleas.” She mashes a key into the lock and opens the door. The girl holds Roger up, gripping him under his front legs so that he dangles inelegantly.

“He’s coming to my party.” She bolts upstairs with Roger held out in front of her, swinging like a pendulum.

Mr. Eisman hears the mother’s clattering heels on the stairs above him… heels attached to feet attached to curved lean legs. He purses his mouth. He knows he mustn’t let those kinds of thoughts into his head. He must stop all of his thinking and be still.

Early this morning he’d run into the mother as she was leaving for work. Her pulpy red mouth chewed out words asking him to look in on the girl during the evening, “unless it would be too much trouble.” His tongue had retreated and plugged the back of his throat like a garden slug. He’d had to nod yes instead of speak. Speaking to women who weren’t girls was highly unpleasant. Women were loud and their words were far too slippery.

Upstairs, Roger, a plastic frog, a mangy stuffed rabbit and the girl are all sitting in a circle. Roger is wearing a yellow bonnet trimmed with lace. His girl is pouring tea and keeping up an animated one-sided conversation. In the light of day there is no hint of the night terrors.

Yesterday evening Roger climbed up the fire escape and slipped in through her window. He had felt her whimpers right through the ceiling and deep into his bones. The terrors whispered his name as sure as they trapped her in her sleep. She sees a dark roiling sky, flooded with the milky colour of cataracts… the girl wonders to herself, who stole all of the colour… just as thundering grey emaciated bodies hurtle themselves toward her, eyes rolled back into their heads. Roger pushed himself up against her chest, purred loudly and patted at her face with his paw.

She flailed awake, throwing Roger off of the bed. She sat upright and still for a moment before she carefully pulled back the sheets she had peed in, bundled them up and hid them in the back of her closet. Then she curled up on the floor with a blanket. From under the bed Roger watched to make sure she slid back through the folds of sleep, not getting snared in roiling skies.

Roger is twenty. Twenty is old for a cat. Twenty is old to be wearing a bonnet. His girl is so young. Special. She sees what the others cannot: the shadows in the night, the extraordinary brightness of day, the weight of air, the thought of a breeze. One blink of her tiny eyelids freezes time and the second blink frees it.

He hopes he’ll be gone when it happens, when she sloughs off her childhood as all of them must. Her soul, snuggling against the infinite, will be tugged ever so slightly away. Everything will be set in motion, too quickly and without warning. It might be at recess or while hiding in a closet or sitting beside a stranger on a bus. No one can ever predict the exact moment that childhood evaporates. Roger has seen it so often, this time he’d rather be gone when it happens.

He excuses himself from the tea party. It’s past his naptime. He gingerly navigates his way down the fire escape. Once inside the apartment he can see Mr. Eisman behind his curtained partition that he uses as a bedroom wall. The shop is a dark place. The lamplight coming from beside Mr. Eisman’s cot elongates a ghoulish skeletal frame against the wall. It’s his naptime also.

Extract copyright © Shannon Quinn 2012

The Top 25 Human Horror Films - Part 2

Evening all,

Today we'll be looking at Part 2 of our top 25 countdown of human horror films, this time covering numbers 16-20. One controversial entry for sure, and other than that a few gems that have remained pretty well undiscovered - many of these are heartily worth checking out if you haven't done so already.

More from our list next week, with our next post coming in two days for the next installment of FREEBIE FRIDAY!

Cheers

Alex

Number Twenty – THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE (FIRST SEQUENCE)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1467304/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Another film that has been much vilified, much of that due to the hype and build-up before release. There's a lot about the film not to like – the acting could certainly have been better, and the storyline is relatively paper-thin. But there is a genuine feeling of empathy and sympathy for the three individuals linked as the human centipede of the title, and the conclusion of this one did really leave enough of an impression on me for it to make the top 25.

Number Nineteen - ANAMORPH

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0497323/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

One of the strangest concepts I've seen behind a psychological horror film, with an artistic serial killer using the art of perspective to provide clues to future murders that will be taking place. Willem Dafoe does a fine job in the leading role in making this difficult concept work in this piece, which is perhaps a tad over-long but other than that a good piece of dark film-making. The core concept also gives the film an interesting visual angle that you won't forget.

Number Eighteen – PANIC BUTTON

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1727358/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

A UK entry on the list, and an interesting take on the prevalence of social media in this day and age. Five 'lucky' individuals win a holiday through a social media site they frequent, and as they are boarded onto the plane they are invited to play a game whilst they travel. However this is a game with dangerous consequences, as unpleasant truhs are revealed about each character. It's a genuinely sense setting, as there's no escaping from the plane, and the only complaint I could offer is that the ending to the film is a bit weak.

Number Seventeen – THE COLLECTOR

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0844479/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

From some of the team behind the Saw films, The Collector is a piece focussing on an ex-con trying to go straight but forced into one final burglary by his partner's desperate situation. However he gets there to find that a deranged criminal is there already, and what follows is a battle of wits and a game of survival. While not living up to the impact of Saw, this film does have its moments, and the lead character's journey throughout the film is fascinating to watch.

Number Sixteen – HORSEMEN
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0892767/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Another entry that I genuinely wasn't expecting much from, but Dennis Quaid puts in a strong lead role as a semi-retired cop brought back to explore some strange murders with a biblical connection. Not a perfect film, by any stretch, but one that has plenty of interesting visuals and motifs to carry through, as well as an interesting family dynamic at its very heart. It's also, interestingly, directed by Jonas Akerlund, who has delivered some extremely famous music videos for equally famous performers.

Freebie Friday 2 - the freebieing...

Morning all,

Just preparing myself to go away for the weekend, but before I went I thought I'd pop up our latest FREEBIE FRIDAY - last week we treated you to the full story Five an Hour, which serves as a great introduction to the collection.

Today's extract is from the closing story of the collection, DOWNSIZE by Allen Ashley. I've long been a fan of Allen's work, and consider him one of the most original authors working within the genre today. And Downsize is typical of this, being a story that is highly topical - namely, just how far will an employee go to keep their job...

So enjoy, and we'll be back next week with another fab freebie friday...

Thanks

Alex

Downsize (extract)
By Allen Ashley

My first time in the loyalty chair was characterised by a sudden sharp pain gradually followed by dreaming bliss. This was essentially how I imagined the injection of a Class A drug might feel. I had no personal experience to draw on, however, and, indeed, suffer from a generalised aversion to needles.

The vision lasted for about fifteen minutes in real time though my somnolent mind perceived a much longer duration. I was transported back to a recollection of younger years: fairly accurate but mended, rose-tinted and golden rather than grey, dreary and urban. I was a little loath to leave this better version behind.

I felt hardly changed afterwards, although I undoubtedly was. Maybe the effect would be stronger in the cumulative rather than the singular. With the way the global economy was shrinking, I felt sure I’d have another turn in the loyalty chair again quite soon.

The gents’ toilet of Hirojima Financial was, as usual, a repository of rumours.

“I heard there’s restructuring going on. Serious downsizing.”

“Can’t be worse than Jones And Co. They sacked all the cleaners there last month so everybody left has to get in half an hour earlier every day to hoover the floors and shine the taps and stuff. And they have to take the hand towels home and launder them.”

“That’s nothing. The DG’s secretary at Platt Systems has had to start going down on him twice a week just to stay on the payroll!”

“You’re having me on!”

“No, I’m not. Good job she’s not a bloke, I s’pose.”

“Who told you this?”

“Just the old fashioned grapevine, mate. No smoke without fire, if you know what I mean. Anyway, gotta get back to my desk. Don’t want to be in the firing line.”

I washed my own hands quickly and held them under the foetid hot air drier till I could see no more coagulating drops. I walked rather than use the lift. Got to get some sort of exercise apart from RSI and eye strain. At the far wall of the department the dollar sign glowed large and red, the lower case e representing the Euro remained strong and white but the blue pound sign seemed fainter, smaller. The fluctuating market had changed even during my brief nature call. Sometimes matters moved with remarkable haste, other times the illuminations glowed with constant static precision for days and nights on end.

On the way back to my screen, I passed the lovely Christine, who continued to resist my polite but definite amorous overtures. She was wearing a short-sleeved white blouse and her downy arms moved over the keyboard with the grace of a pianist. She threw back her bobbed blonde hair but ignored me as I passed. Steve was at my desk, cribbing some export figures for the last quarter.

“Have you heard?” I began.

“Yeah. Big time downsizing. We’ll be all right, though, mate. You been in that loyalty chair yet?”

“Just the once. You?”

He unbuttoned his cuff and showed me his small blue implant. “Any day now, I hope,” he smiled. “I tell you what, Dave, I think me and you’ll be OK. I reckon we’ve got jobs here for life if we want them.”

That’s a big if, I thought but didn’t say.

Beyond the window, the staff of Salt Mine Securities buzzed as busily as ever and in the street below the shoppers and skiving commuters crawled like worker ants. Life as normal.

In the constant shadow of the sword of Damocles.

The Divisional Chairman, Mr St John, called a general staff meeting at six-thirty on Friday. I could see that several of my colleagues were itching to let off steam down the pub or catch commuter trains back to long-suffering families but aside from a few stifled yawns, nobody let on at the inconvenience of the forced, unpaid overtime.

“I just wanted to reassure all of you that we are maintaining a continued commitment to our current workforce,” he began. “Yes, you will undoubtedly experience some hardship during this period of shrinkage but, as I’m sure you’re aware, in the current climate we must look at and indeed grasp every opportunity to cut our costs. I believe we will be able to emerge from this with a slimmed-down but more efficient and indeed healthier workforce. Any questions?”

Caroline cleared her throat and nervously asked, “Are you saying in effect that everyone is going to be forced to undergo the ordeal of the loyalty chair?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly describe it as an ordeal, my dear.”

“I’ve heard it will interfere with my ability to bear children.”

“The old conundrum, I’m afraid: family or career. But to answer your question, it’s likely that we may make further use of the loyalty chair. With suitable modifications. It’s really nothing to be afraid of,” he smiled.

The pregnant silence was only punctuated by an embarrassed rustling of papers and slight shuffling of feet.

“Well, if there’s no further questions... Good. I trust you will all have an enjoyable and relaxing weekend.”

Allen Ashley is an author, an award-winning editor, a prize-winning poet and a writing tutor. He won the British Fantasy Society Award for Best Anthology in 2006 as editor of The Elastic Book Of Numbers (Elastic Press, 2005). He leads the advanced writing group Clockhouse London Writers. He is the judge for the BFS Short Story Competition 2013.

Copyright © Allen Ashley 2004

The top 25 human horror films - Part 1

Morning all,

Having put NO MONSTERS ALLOWED out there under the bracket of 'human horror', I thought it'd be fun to explore what this concept means and some of the other examples of this that are out there. And so today I'm glad to present the first of five blogs, which will be counting down the best 25 human horror movies. The one thing I would say before I get cracking is that throughout this list I have tried to avoid what might be some of the more obvious selections and focus on work that may be a bit less-known and hopefully may just reveal a treat or two for readers of this blog.

Interestingly, this first part seems to focus on titles with an element of grim and macabre humour, and features a couple of titles that have been highly controversial upon their release. I don't mind anything being controversial - the real problem I have is when things become gratuitous, and with the films in this list I would tend to very much argue that any of the more shocking content is necessary to the plot. Of course that may well be an element of individual taste, and individual standards, but there you go.

Just click on an individual title for more information on it anyway - this will lead you direct to the IMDB page for the movie.

Number Twenty-Five – GROTESQUE

Dare I say, a typical piece of Japanese Cinema madness. Grotesque is probably one of the shortest films I've watched – weighing in at barely over an hour – and also one that does have a number of flaws. But what the film does have that rescues it as a piece of viewing is a strange sense of fun amidst the gory torture that inhabits the most of it. The final scene is astounding visual, almost to the point of being cartoonish – one for those with strong stomachs and those who can take graphic scenes with a pinch of salt.

Number Twenty-Four – LUCKY

Macabre humour much? This dark little tale concerns struggling writer Millard Mudd, who lives a lonely life and is fighting a battle against deadlines and writers block. Into his life comes Lucky the dog, a pooch who happens to inspire his creativity again – by talking to him and giving him ideas. But as Lucky's demands grow and grow, they take Millard down a very dark path. This one contains one of my favourite film lines – see if you can spot it...

Number Twenty-Three – OTIS

I went into this film with pretty low expectations, but the style and delivery of this one made it superior to many that have come before. Otis is a trouble young man looking for love, and seeks it by kidnapping young girls and trapping them in his basement with the intent of wooing them through a series of dates. It's strange to feel any kind of sympathy for the bad guy in this kind of movie, but Otis has a strange sense of innocence that hangs around him, making him almost as tragic as his victims.

Number Twenty-Two – REDD INC./INHUMAN RESOURCES

A very entertaining Australian entry, with Nicholas Hope putting in a star turn as Thomas Reddman, a businessman convicted of murder but now escaped and determined to prove his innocence. His approach is to chain six employees to their desks and set them the task of proving his innocence. Unfortunately there are some heavy penalties for not meeting targets and turning out results... the only thing that stopped this film being a bit higher up the list was something of a silly ending.

Number Twenty-One – A SERBIAN FILM

One of the most controversial releases of recent years, and with good reason – I have to issue a public health warning with this one, as it is a severe and disturbing piece of work. Despite the nasty taste it left, and many genuinely uncomfortable moments while viewing, this is an arresting movie with some unique visuals and a brutal means of making its point about Serbian culture. If I were making a list of the most shocking films I'd ever seen, this would probably top the list - you have been warned!

We'll be back Wednesday of next week with numbers 16-20 on the list!

Cheers

Alex

Scardiff Report

Morning all,

Back last night for the inaugural Scardiff event (http://scardiff.co.uk/) and wanted to post a quick report on the event itself from our perspective. I'm greatly indebted to both Theresa Derwin and Adrian Middleton at Fringeworks/Nightwatch for all their support over the weekend, even though unfortunately the book we had planned to launch didn't arrive in time!

But I was still there with a box of No Monsters Allowed, and really looking forward to a fine day. The might storm that was promised didn't arrive, thankfully, and the journeys both there and back were very smooth. It was fantastic to arrive at 10am and see a fair queue forming outside the door - always a good sign for any event, and I'd add that this was a great crowd, particularly bearing in mind this is a first event. There's undoubtedly an appetite for horror in Cardiff, and an even bigger event next year would be no surprise at all given this initial success.

Although I did spend most of my day behind my desk (as is often the case when you're bookselling...), I was on the opening panel of the day at 11am with Anthony DP Mann and Dominic Brunt. Both great guys, really friendly, and a panel that I really enjoyed. The subject was 'Tropes of Horror', looking at some of those favourite old staples of the genre - vampires, zombies and werewolves. And some very interesting points made, including a good point about Twilight (and I'm sure you can imagine the reaction when that particular subject came up...) and plenty besides. I was also greatly heartened to see the turnout for this - the room was damn near full, which for 11am at any convention is fine going.

This was followed by our launch slot, which was originally intended to be for Knightwatch's Seven Deadly Sins anthology X7 (although we did have a few pre-orders for this, which was heartening) and eventually became something of a shop window for No Monsters Allowed. It's great to have the chance to talk a bit about the process of the book coming together, although of course my speech was somewhat improvised on the spot!

Back to the desk, and it was great fun to see a host of fantastic cosplay throughout the day - there were zombies in abundance, as you may have expected, but also some rather more obscure outfits - particularly like the nurse from the Silent Hill game and movies, although those scenes did always somewhat creep me out...

But overall I want to tip my hat to the organisers - really well organised, very smooth, a large and enthusiastic crowd and a crammed dealers room are all testament to just how good a job the whole team did. Big thanks to Mike Allwood, Wayne Simmons, Iz McAuliffe and anyone else involved in the running that I didn't get the chance to meet and say hit to on the day.

Our next launch activity for No Monsters Allowed will be at Derby's Central Library next Monday, 4th November, where I'll be joined by the wonderful Adam Craig for readings and Q+A. You can check that out at http://www.derby.gov.uk/leisure-and-culture/libraries/library-events/listen-while-you-lunch-with-writer-adam-craig-and-writer-alex-david/

Cheers!

Alex

FREEBIE FRIDAY is here!

Morning all,

It's Friday, and why not join us for a little light weekend reading? Every Friday from now until the end of the year - at least - we'll be posting either an extract or a full story from the NO MONSTERS ALLOWED anthology. There is some absolutely wonderful stuff coming up over the next ten or so weeks, and hopefully plenty to give you an appetite for 'human horror'...

We kick off this week with one of the very first stories I accepted for the anthology, FIVE AN HOUR, by Devan Goldstein. The thing that I immediately loved about this story was its macabre humour, and the sense that this is the kind of thing that could almost happen to anyone. Anyway, enjoy, and don't forget to drop by next Friday for more NO MONSTERS ALLOWED goodness!

Cheers

Alex

Five an Hour

by Devan Goldstein

My first day on the butterscotch line, they tell me I can eat five chews an hour.

Frank says, “That’s more than on the taffy line.” Frank works across from me. He and I box the butterscotches, fifty a box.

“If they’re so worried about money,” I ask, “why do they let us eat the candy at all?”

Frank throws ten or fifteen pieces into a box. Then he asks me if I know Kevin Mercer.

“No.”

“Kevin worked here for three months. Left a year ago, I guess, and opened up the hot dog stand outside. Know why he quit?”

“No.”

“Never ate the candy. Without the candy, this job sucks.”

I wonder how much worse this job could be than the one he has now. “I guess he eats the hot dogs,” I say.

My second week on the job, I start to make rules to pace myself. I’ve been throwing two or three butterscotches into my mouth at the top of each hour, and the long stretches after my rations run out have been murder. As the candy goes by on the line, it talks to every part of you: your hands, your nose, your soul.

The first rule I make is, one piece at a time. Last Friday, I told Frank I’ve got a big mouth, and he said, “If a whale worked the line, he’d get five an hour just like you. You think he’d bitch about his big mouth?”

I didn’t know if whales bitched, I told him, but did he have to be so rude?

The second rule is, stick to some kind of schedule. At first, I think I should have one butterscotch every twelve minutes. But then I think of Swagger, and how slow the strippers there unwrap themselves, the good ones anyway, and make you wait for it. So maybe I’ll have one piece at the one-minute mark, then wait for at the half-hour, then one every ten minutes for the rest of the hour.

I ask Frank which system he thinks will work better.

“I just eat them when I eat them,” Frank says. “But everybody’s different.”

“You must have seen guys try different ways, though. Who’s worked here the longest?”

Frank looks at me like I just dumped his box of butterscotches onto the floor, and then says, “I have.”

By the end of my third week, I have tried five different schedules, and even messed around with eating two pieces at a time again. But the problem isn’t the schedule. It’s the candies. Too many of them go by. It just makes you want endless chewy butterscotch.

On a break, I tell these things to Marcus, the floor manager. Then I ask him: What if somebody sent the butterscotch rations down the caramel line, instead, and the taffy down the butterscotch line, and the caramel down the taffy line? That way, we’d all get excited when the candies we could eat came by, but we wouldn’t care about the ones we were cutting or wrapping or boxing. We could store up candies, too, like a bank account.

“A bank account,” Marcus says. Then he tells me to go get a hot dog.

“I hate hot dogs,” I say.

“Then just eat the bun,” he says, and I do, wishing he’d listen to my idea like I listened to his.

Over the next few days, I bring in different things to chew on in between pieces of candy. I like the springiness of balloons, but Frank complains about how loud they squeak between my teeth. A piece of my old brown belt makes less noise, but the leather makes my tongue sting by lunchtime. Silly Putty disintegrates in ten minutes, and I pick it out from the spaces around my teeth for the rest of the day. I probably swallow half of it down with my butterscotch rations.

And anyway, nothing replaces the candy, nothing makes me want it less, not even for the ten minutes between late-in-the-hour butterscotches.

Frank and I hardly talk anymore, but one day I ask him, “You ever try quitting the candy?”

He says, “This job sucks without the candy. Only reason to quit the candy is to quit the job.”

I know he’s right. You can’t quit the candy.

Soon, I start to think about the candy in a different way. I imagine naked fat women swimming through grain silos full of butterscotches. I think of my grandfather’s anal medicine, and I wonder if stuffing butterscotches up my ass would keep me from wanting them so bad, or if they have to hit your taste buds to work.

Then, I have an idea: I could easily fill two boxes at a time, one box with my left hand, and one with my right, switching every so often to make up for the difference in speed between my two hands. If I can fill two boxes, I should get double rations.

The next morning, I wait in the parking lot to tell Frank my idea.

When he opens his car door, I say, “I could fill two boxes at a time, and get double rations.”

Frank looks at me the way Marcus did when he told me to eat a hot dog bun. Then he starts to walk away.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Inside,” he says. “so I can do my job and then go back home.”

I walk after him, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Frank, wait.”

As he brushes my hand away, I notice how bony his shoulder feels, like I could crumble it in my hand. And if I did, he couldn’t work the butterscotch line anymore. Marcus would have no choice but to ask me to fill two boxes at a time.

Then I grab the collar of his jacket and pull it hard. Frank falls onto the pavement. He looks up at me, and where his eyes usually are I see two unwrapped butterscotches. As I reach for the one on the right, I think, if he has one butterscotch in each eye, his head must be full of them.

Devan Goldstein’s writing has appeared in The Collagist, The Rumpus, A List Apart, and elsewhere. He lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with his wife and son, and works as a web usability and strategy consultant 

Copyright © Devan Goldstein 2012

If you fancy grabbing yourself a copy of this, and indeed 19 more stories of human horror, then you can grab the anthology at http://www.lulu.com/shop/alex-davis/no-monsters-allowed/paperback/product-21240457.html

Cheers!

Alex

A face for radio!

Afternoon all,

Just another swift piece of news as per No Monsters Allowed - I shall be appearing on BBC Radio Derby next week on Andy Potter's show. So tune in if you can at 2pm on Wednesday the 30th to hear me talk about the anthology, and plenty besides I expect!

You can find out how to tune in - and I believe listen again if you miss it live - at http://www.bbc.co.uk/radioderby

Later this week we'll be starting out our series of 'Freebie Fridays', although given some of the stories I was tempted to go with 'Freaky Fridays'... anyway, each Friday over the next few months we'll be getting an insight into the collection with some extracts - and even full stories - from No Monsters Allowed just to whet your appetite. What more could you ask for?

Back again soon...

Cheers

Alex

Launch-type goodness!

Afternoon all,

Delighted to deliver some more good news on No Monsters Allowed today, as there are two launch events on the very near horizon for the book! Both very different in nature, and given how things are shaping up, I expect these two to be the tip of the iceberg - so nil desperandum if you can't make either of these, as hopefully we'll be rolling up at a bookshop or art venue near you soon!

SCARDIFF 2013: http://scardiff.co.uk/
SUNDAY 27TH OCTOBER, CARDIFF, MERCUSE HOLLAND HOUSE HOTEL
10am onwards
This'll be the first time physical copies of NO MONSTERS ALLOWED will be on sale, and I'll also be doing some panelling at the event if you fancied coming to hear me speak on horror fiction. Funnily enough, I'm on a panel about monsters, so I might just be the cat among the pigeons there...

LISTEN WHILE YOU LUNCH: http://www.derby.gov.uk/leisure-and-culture/libraries/library-events/listen-while-you-lunch-with-writer-adam-craig-and-writer-alex-david/
MONDAY 4TH NOVEMBER, DERBY, CENTRAL LIBRARY
12:00pm-1pm
Me oh my, aren't Monday afternoons tedious? Well they needn't be! If you find yourself at a loose end, come down and join us for a lunchtime session at Derby Central Library, where I'll be joined by ADAM CRAIG, who'll be talking about his story 'The Silence After Winter' and post-apocalyptic fiction in general. Again, we'll have copies for sale at the event. Oh, and do feel free to bring your sandwiches along with you...

Expect lots more news in the next few weeks about launch activities, and hopefully will see some of you at these two events anyway!

Cheers

Alex

No Monsters Allowed - an introduction...

Afternoon all,

An introduction in more senses than one, as I'm not only introducing this blog today, but also sharing my own introduction to NO MONSTERS ALLOWED.

But let's start at the beginning - NO MONSTERS ALLOWED is an anthology from Dog Horn Publishing, and one that I had the pleasure of editing. As the title suggests, you won't see a single vampire, werewolf, zombie, goblin or ghoul in here. Each story is about some distinctly human element of horror, from war to work, and family to friends. And I must say I'm really pleased with the end result, which takes the theme in directions that I would never have guessed at. 

So, in this first post, I thought I'd share my editors introduction to the collection with you. And as the days and weeks wear on, you can expect exclusive extracts, interview, giveaways and much more from NO MONSTERS ALLOWED.

So, without any further ado...

INTRODUCTION

from Alex Davis

I have to start by saying that this is an anthology I have wanted to do for a long time. The title No Monsters Allowed has been rattling around in my head for many years, and the concept came around for a very simple reason – I can’t remember the last time a monster really scared me in any form of fiction.

As a young horror reader I worked my way through many of the books that deliver classic monsters – James Herbert’s The Rats, Stephen King’s IT and of course the many Cthulhu tales of HP Lovecraft. I also saw more than my share of horror B-movies presenting all manner of weird and wonderful monsters.

However, over the course of time, I’ve very much found my taste changing towards what I’ve grown to dub ‘human horror’. What another person can do to you can be just as terrifying – if not more so – than what any werewolf, vampire or zombie can inflict. For me, that comes from the feeling that you don’t necessarily expect such a thing from your fellow human. The classic monsters, by their very definition, are evil. There’s no shock when a zombie tries to eat your brains, a vampire tries to drink your blood, or a werewolf goes to bite and transform you. That’s expected. A human being – well, human beings are surely good, on the whole? Aren’t they?

Perhaps so. But you can’t apply such a sweeping statement to all of humanity, and even less so when humanity finds itself placed in extreme situations. It’s a common thread in what disparagingly gets called ‘torture porn’, a genre that for me has ironically brought some of the most affecting films of the last ten years. Movies like the Saw series, Vile and The Tortured have played with this concept in a manner that is both intelligent and harrowing. The fear doesn’t come from the extreme nature of the violence itself, but the thought that it has been willingly inflicted by another person somewhere. There is also a lot to be said for the psychological aspect of horror – something foreign horror cinema does very ably, as evidenced by pieces such as The Squad, Ringu and Hierro.

What delighted me in particular with No Monsters Allowed is the range of submissions that I received. The term ‘human horror’ would of course seem to lend itself naturally to serial killers or revenge stories, but for me there is much more to it than that, something this anthology ably demonstrates. ‘Bred in the Bone’ and ‘An Honest Woman’s Child’ tell of the horror of family relations that are broken beyond recognition. ‘Puppyberries’ and ‘Special Girl’ tell of the horrors that may lurk within childhood. ‘Five an Hour’ and ‘The Algorithm’ explore the horrors that lie within the human brain itself, under the right – or the wrong – circumstances. There are stories here that explore the horrors that can exist within the workplace, within politics, within friendships. Each of these stories takes a very different approach to its horror, but keeps the human element at the very heart.

So if the invasion of monsters has left you weary and jaded, there might just be something here to perk you up a bit.

And remember to just be that bit careful of the people around you...

Alex Davis

Wolverhampton, October 2013

If you'd like to find out more about No Monsters Allowed, or pick up your copy, just drop by http://www.lulu.com/shop/alex-davis/no-monsters-allowed/paperback/product-21240457.html

Cheers!

Alex