Paperbacks From Hell: The Twisted History of '70s and '80s Horror Fiction

Skipping my weekly Abyss review for a special book I've been hearing about on the internet, it's been burning up the forums and Facebook groups ever since it came out: Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of '70s and '80s Horror Fiction by Grady Hendrix.

It's a magnificent volume, with hundreds of  examples of classic, and not so classic, vintage horror paperback covers.

But it's not just pretty pictures (which are GORGEOUS,  by they way,) but it's a subtle cultural history as well, the trends in publishing that reflect the moods and attitudes of the country,  from the Satanic boom in the early seventies, through eco-horror, to splatterpunks and serial killers.

Hendrix not only gives an exhaustive look at the genre, but he spotlights major artists as well, giving credit where credit is due.

There's a nice amount of back matter at the end where he lists the players, authors, publishers and artists, a suggested reading list from Will Errickson at Too Much Horror Fiction, and a impressive listing of  cover credits for the book covers used in this.

Of course, the part I'm really there for is at the end: four pages about thle Dell Abyss imprint.  Four sweet glorious pages, one of which is NOTHING but covers!  Hendrix gives a TV Guide synopsis of the founding  of the line, explaining that the market was in such that "the coroner had called it and the medical examiner was zipping up horror's body bag."  But then came Jeanne Cavelos.  I will be indirectly singing her praises a couple of times a month with this blog, because she was the motivating force behind the imprint.

(Final note:  I've subscribed to Audible.com and they're offering an audiobook version of this.  Seriously.  What The Hell?  I'm sure all the discussion about the books will sound GREAT but the strength of the book is the pictures.  Hell, the first two times I "read" this, I was just looking at covers- the first time was just out of sheer joy; the second time I was in full covet mode.  This book is the Sears Christmas Wishbook for horror fans.)

Nightlife

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Part way through the early section of Brian Hodge's novel Nightlife, I get an idea in my head and I can't shake it and it impacts the way I read the rest of the book: specifically that it's "Bright Lights, Big City" meets "Scarface" meets "Altered States".

It isn't really, and there's a South American native warrior in the mix.  The yuppie is a former ad-man who has left the Mid-West because of his cocaine problems.  Coming to Tampa, he encounters the local friendly drug lord who's giving out a sample of a new exotic product straight out of the jungles of South America, Venezuelan marching powder, called skullflush.  This powder is sacred to the people of the native warrior, who's there to reclaim it with whatever body count it takes to do so.  Skullflush allows the user to get in touch with their inner essence, transforming them into beasts- alligator people, big cats, wolfgirls and most magnificently, a Were-Piranha.

Yes, seriously, a Were-Piranha.  Who sleeps IN, not on, a water bed.

It's glorious.

Read enough Horror or Weird Fiction, and you sort of become jaded.  There wasn't any horror here for me- just a strange delight at how progressively complicated the character's lives become. 

Which ends up being pretty fucking complicated.

Because Were-Piranha.

Oiginal publication date: March 1991

Availability: There's a German version from 2004, but other than that, the hard copy is out of print.  Used copies are available on the secondary market.  An e-book edition is available from Crossroads Press, for $3.99.

 

Cover image snagged from Brian Hodge's website, linked to above.

The Cipher

Fun fact: I'd planned this weeks ago, penciling in The Cipher on the calendar, the top of a list of the first eight books from Dell Abyss, that this post would go up January 6; as it happens, today, the sixth is Kathe Koja's birthday. That's some pretty cool synchronicity there.
Now, on with the post:

I've tried this before, but I'm going to give it another go for 2018. 

This time I have a plan and structure and God knows I need that. One book a week. Post goes up on Saturday. And I've started at the beginning: Kathe Koja's The Cipher. The Cipher was the novel chosen to lead off the imprint, and it does with a bang.

Dell Abyss liner editor  Jeanne Cavelos said "We'd had too many stories about haunted houses and evil children and ancient Indian burial grounds.”

What was needed was something different. Different it is.

Nicholas and his not girlfriend Nakota have discovered a spot, a hole in a store room in his apartment building. They call it “The Funhole.” Like a vantablack puddle, the hole doesn't go to the floor below, but somewhere else. Nakota experiments by lowering things into it. Bugs. A mouse. None of them come back alive, or unchanged. This drives Nakota to up the stakes by lowering a corpse's hand into it. The results from that grisly attempt inspire her to put a video camera into The Funhole. The resulting footage is different for Nicholas, and what Nakota and everyone else see changes relative to the viewer. Nicholas eventually ends up putting one of his hands into The Funhole, and everything pretty much goes to Hell from there.

Nicholas and Nakota aren't particularly likable people. But I knew them. The poet working at the video store. The bar waitress- artist. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes. Re-reading this reminded me just how awesomely fucked up the nineties were. This time, I wasn't seeing the horror of what Nicholas becomes because of The Funhole, who Nakota becomes because of it. This was Nostalgia. Not just for the first time I'd encountered The Funhole, but for who I was when I did. Stale beer. Clove cigarettes. My old leather jacket. The poets and painters and actors and madmen who occupied my world.
I don't miss any of that.  Not really. 
Except maybe at 3am, when the cats have woke me up for a snack and I think there was a time when I'd be getting home at that hour.

Original publication date: February 1991.
Awards: 1992 Bram Stoker Award for Best First Horror Novel. Locus Award Best First Novel.

Availability: Paperback was reprinted with a different cover, but both editions are currently out of print and commanding pretty good prices on the secondary market. Roadswell Editions released an affordable ($3.99) e-book, available in several platforms. I actually have the Android edition that I read on my phone when I'm in the mood and away from my bookshelf. When they released the ebook, they made a trailer style commercial for it:

This is probably the closest we'll ever get to The Cipher: The Movie.