Seems every time I post I’m apologizing about the interval of time since my last entry. I’ll just say it’s been a trying time in my life and though it’s been quiet, I’m plugging away in the background on multiple projects. I made some promises I honestly haven’t kept and frankly shouldn’t have made while such calamitous life events are in play.
I said I’d have The Lost Pages of Trevor Sunburn in print around June. This didn’t happen A. Because I’m uncertain how I want to have this one distributed yet and B. I’ve simply been fucked up. This still might come out in 2012, the damn thing’s been done for years now, but I can’t say at this second precisely when. I’ve seen interest and I really want to get it out there, so stay tuned on that. Continue reading
I just found this little tidbit in an email I wrote to myself this past December, in an attempt to start a short horror/comedy Christmas story. It’s only the first two paragraphs, but I figured I’d share and if there’s any interest, I might finish it this year. So anyway, here’s the start of The List.
A tremendous sense of dread hung over the North Pole. He’d made his list, checked it twice, thrice, but no matter how many times he looked it over the impossible facts remained. The devil’s son had been good that year. Continue reading
Had Ethan believed in ghosts, he would have few doubts the house looming before him was infested. There’s a trail of paperwork stating that the house had on multiple occasions been bought and sold and that it was currently occupied, but there was no evidence anyone’s stepped foot on this property, or neighboring homes, since Howard Russo abandoned ship years ago. The weeds had overtaken the lower floor of the estate, choking what life remained from the rotting edifice; the trees wrapped themselves around the second and third floors and forced their bony fingers through several windows, exposing the interior to the elements with no apparent intervention to seal with glass or wood. No, if the house was unoccupied by ghosts it wasn’t occupied at all. Continue reading
Chapter 3 of my second novel, The Lost Pages of Trevor Sunburn. Check out the book page, which contains more excerpts here.
THE ENGINEER AND THE BLACK DEATH
Hotel food sucks. They charge an exorbitant amount of money for shit on a plate and after five days of eating that garbage, just the thought of a greasy slice of pizza would make the insides of my cheeks sweat.
Even the eggs suck. How in Zeus’s lightning do you fuck up eggs?
I guess it doesn’t help that I’m picky and don’t eat meat.
I had a vegetable panini one night; which in this case was squash, zucchini, mushrooms and some other crap on focaccia bread. Sure, it sounds mighty tasty, but damned if it didn’t make me want to fucking vomit. First, I pick it up and some big shiny red thing’s sticking out the side, wobbling around like a floppy dildo, then every time I try to take a bite of the bastard, these goddamn slimy sea creatures squeeze right out from between the buns and flop onto my plate with a wet splashing sound.
Needless to say, I took a stroll through the blistering cold to get pizza after that experience, rather than eat at the blasted hotel. It was either the elements, or I do battle with the fucking Kraken again. Continue reading
Read Part 1 here!
Read Part 2 here!
And onto the end…
I was too busy watching my finger to even notice the redhead cutting a sliver or flesh from my left thigh. I shifted my eyes down to see him placing a bandage over the exposed muscle, before depositing the flesh on a tray next to a syringe filled with the reanimation serum, then carrying the contents to the doctor and the bitch. The syringe was emptied into my flesh and they once again analyzed the data. I was not kept in the room long enough to monitor the results this time and was carted off almost as quickly as I was brought in.
I gather that only an hour or two passed before they brought me back to the operating room. What I saw was astonishing. In the few hours since they had injected the flesh from my thigh with the regenerating liquid, it had managed to mutate, forming tiny bumps that it could wiggle to pull itself along. The doctors had their masks off, big mistake, and were laughing as they watched my flesh drag itself across the cold tile floor. Was that a sense of cold I felt in the hole where my skin had been removed? Continue reading
Here’s the second part of Here Comes My Brain. Part one can be found here!
The name is Howard, I wanted to tell him, but the injection had worked on my lips as well. They lifted the deadweight that was my body and deposited it into the wheelchair with that blasted broken wheel, proceeding to push me down the hall, further bruising my knees on the cold walls due to that wicked left turn the chair so enjoyed making, and finally to the operation room the good doctor spoke of.
The room was well lit and sterile, with white walls and stainless steel tables, sinks and surgical equipment. There was a solitary metal chair in the center of the room with an adjustable high voltage light like those at a dentist’s office. Fluorescent bulbs illuminated the room as well as the two additional doctors who were waiting inside, loading syringes with a glowing amber liquid. Was that a smile I saw beneath the mask of the female doctor? That bitch just jumped up a peg on my shit list. Continue reading
Here Comes My Brain! is a short story I wrote a few years ago, which I’m presenting here in 3 parts. The story was based completely around the title, which was based around something a neighbor was screaming, which was obviously (I would hope) misheard.
Please continue reading and look out for part 2. Feel free to leave feedback. If demand calls for it, I’ll publish some of my older short stories on here as well.
Here Comes My Brain is a fun horror/dark comedy about a man who is abducted and used in experiments that involve the reanimation of dead flesh, where each day brings more bizarre procedures and less limbs, as his desire for revenge increases. Without further ado… Continue reading
Though this blog has been relatively inactive as of late, it’s anything but forgotten. Believe me, the pressure and stress of this site sitting idle, putrefying while I suffer through the trials of the real world weigh heavily on me each day. And don’t doubt for a second that I’m aware of the importance of maintaining such a site if I’m to bring exposure to the years of hard work and growth I’ve undergone as a writer, and trust me, having someone read and hopefully enjoy my work is my ultimate goal.
I’ve been low on energy, low on inspiration and currently, I’m low on coffee–perhaps the most frightening of all–but I’ve toppled my writers blocks and made a significant dent in a new chapter of The Skin Collection that had been kicking my ass for the better part of a month. It’s a complicated chapter that I’ve decided to make even more complicated rather than going the easy route, but I feel the end result will be well worth the effort, even if I had more days than I’d like to count watching a blinking cursor and daydreaming about triforce pieces, Romulans and sexdragons. Continue reading
Just in time for the holidays, I present a list of ten “people” (in no particular order) that you don’t want to invite to Christmas dinner.
You might be wondering whether or not to invite that annoying uncle that no one likes, or that relative that just can’t seem to hold their alcohol without making a complete asshole of themselves, but just remember, it could always be worse. Now there’s some obvious answers like Hannibal Lecter or the Creeper, but who’s seriously going to invite a convicted murder/cannibal, or a creature that meticulously selects specific pieces of the human anatomy to consume for 23 consecutive days, to Christmas dinner? Obvious bad choice is obvious. No, it’s the quiet ones you have to watch. Continue reading
“If this picture doesn’t make you scream and squirm, you should see a psychiatrist–quick!”
David Cronenberg's, Shivers
David Cronenberg’s Shivers, AKA They Came From Within, is one of those lost gems that’s damn near impossible to track down these days. You’ll pay upwards of $50 for a used copy, and for some bizarre reason no one seems to be stepping up to distribute this now out of print DVD. Continue reading