Matheson invented the horror story would be as ridiculous as it would be to say that Elvis Presley
invented rock and roll —what, the purist would scream, about Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Stick
McGhee, The Robins, and a dozen others? The same is true in the horror genre, which is the literary
equivalent of rock and roll—a quick hit to the head that bops your nerves and makes them hurt so
good.’
King often closes his introductions to books in the horror genre with a warning to the reader, and
compliments and praise if appropriate. He writes here: ‘Be warned: You are in the hands of a writer
who asks no quarter and gives none. He will wring you dry...and when you close this volume he will
leave you with the greatest gift a writer can give: He will leave you wanting more.’
This introduction first appeared as From Stephen King in Richard Matheson: Collected
Stories, published by Dream/Press in a variety of 1989 limited editions. It was reprinted as the
Introduction to Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, a collection of Matheson stories, published by Tor Books
in January 2002, in both hardcover and trade paperback; and under its original title in Richard
Matheson: Collected Stories, Volume 3, edited by Stanley Wiater, an expanded three-volume edition
o f Richard Matheson: Collected Stories, released by Edge Books/Gauntlet Press in a 2005 trade
paperback.
The Importance of Being Archie (March 1991)
King has always loved the comics, but when we think of King and that type of publication, we
usually think of E.C.-style horror comics. But what about the rest—say, an American classic like
Archie? He starts this short introduction with: ‘Forewords, even when they’re as short as this one,
rarely touch the reader’s heart unless the writer sends them out from that same location. That gives me
at least a fighting chance, because I’ve spent a lot of hours in the company of Archie Andrews,
Riverdale’s premiere teenager, and I still count him as one of my good friends.’
He closes with the longtime familiarity of one who loves the characters in this particular
fictional world: ‘So take it away, Archie; I think it’s time you jumped into your jalopy and headed
out. You’ve got a date (unfortunately for you, both Betty and Veronica think it’s with her), and you’re
running behind schedule. Just say hi to Moose, Midge, Reggie, and all the rest for me, would you? Oh,
and by the way—if you see Jughead, ask him where he got that hat. I’ve always sort of wanted one.’
This piece originally appeared in Archie Americana Series: The Best of the Forties, edited by
Scott D. Fulop, a collection released by Archie Comic Publications in trade paperback dated March
1, 1991. It appears only rarely at used booksellers and King sources.
A Warning from...Stephen King (October 1991)
This is a short introduction for Aaron N. Carmichael’s story Mr. Tilmore, King’s choice as the
winning entry in a children’s ‘scary stories’ contest. He opens, ‘There are always a few grumpy
grown-ups out there who like to go around moaning that kids are too busy watching TV and playing
Nintendo to read anymore, let alone write stories. It’s pretty clear to me that the current crop of
grumps missed the Scary Stories Contest in Disney Adventures magazine, because if they had seen the
six final entries that I saw, they would have changed their minds in a hurry. Tommi Lewis, the editor
in charge of taking care of the contest entries, told me there were over seven hundred stories in all,
and if the ones I saw were any indication of how much good writing kids are doing...wow!’
King closes, ‘... for the rest of you, just remember that the best way to fight fire is with fire, and
the best way to fight fear is with fear. In other words, keep writing those scary stories.’ He signs the
piece, ‘gruesomely yours.’
This short piece appeared only in the October 1991 issue of the children’s magazine Disney
Adventures and is relatively difficult to track down. Start with the usual online sources for used
magazines, and King resellers.
Introduction (1991)
This introduction appeared in a limited-edition only hardcover book, Signatures, published by
Lord John Press in 1991. The book is an album of photographs and signatures from contemporary
American authors and was signed by King and many others.
Keeping to the book’s theme King tells the story of his first autograph and first publicity
photograph. As far as the autograph is concerned: ‘I signed my first autograph in late 1973. It was on
the blank head-page of a paperback “advance reader’s copy” of Carrie, my first novel. That
autograph read: For Ruth King—Thanks for letting me wonder. I love you, mom—Stephen King.
And the date. My mother, who was suffering with mid-stage cancer at the time I gave her that first
copy of my first book, died not long after. I haven’t the slightest idea what happened to the proof
copy. It would be worth a small fortune, I suppose, in the mad atmosphere of today’s collector’s
market, where the autographs of some writers command sums of money which seem—to me, at least
—surreal.’
He then tells the second tale: ‘My first “author photograph” was taken in the later summer of
1973, in the offices of Doubleday and Company. The photographer was Alex Gottfryd, whose credit
runs up the side of hundreds (perhaps thousands) of Doubleday books. I remember feeling a mild
sense of unreality—almost déjà vu—as I was placed in front of the unobtrusive and slightly
crumpled-looking gray backdrop that I had seen on the back flaps of Crime Club and Double D
Westerns without number. Because I didn’t have a jacket, and because Mr. Gottfryd was strongly of
the opinion that novelists (especially those who were still wet behind the ears) should be properly
dressed, I borrowed my editor’s suit-coat. It was a less than perfect fit. Then, just before beginning to
snap, Gottfryd took away my glasses, which were causing reflection problems for him. These factors,
combined with the authorly beard which had just begun to sprout, created an unintentionally comic
unity which still has the power to make me wince with embarrassment today. In that picture I look a
good deal more like Mr. Ratty from The Wind in the Willows than the so-called “master of the
modern horror story,” as the Doubleday publicity department later dubbed me.’
Aside from King’s signature and introduction, the book also includes a reproduction of a
handwritten manuscript page from King’s novel Misery and photograph of a Time magazine cover
story featuring the author. The publisher, Lord John Press, also released the limited single-volume
edition of King’s short story, Dolan’s Cadillac; and the limited edition broadsheet Letters From
Hell149.
Some of the other authors included in this book are: Robert Bloch, T. Coraghessan Boyle, Ray
Bradbury, Ramsey Campbell, Dennis Etchison, Ursula K. LeGuin, Elmore Leonard, Norman Mailer,
Richard C. Matheson, Joyce Carol Oates, Robert B. Parker, James Purdy, Dan Simmons, Peter
Straub, John Updike, Eudora Welty and Donald E. Westlake.
Stephen King PraisesThe M.D. by Thomas M. Disch (April 1992)
This is a page-long introductory piece to the mass-market paperback edition of Disch’s novel
The M.D. King writes, ‘ The M.D. is simply one of the best novels of horror-fantasy I’ve ever read.
Thomas Disch has been writing wonderful tales of imagination for years now—stories that sometimes
amuse, sometimes sting, sometimes horrify, and sometimes manage to do all three at the same time —
but The M.D. is surely his magnum opus.’
It isn’t clear when the piece was written, but one would guess sometime after the hardcover
edition and right before this mass-market edition was published, excepting that King closes with some
congratulatory words and best wishes to the author: ‘A thousand bravos to Thomas Disch, who has
written a brilliantly entertaining novel. I hope it’s a big fat #1 best-seller.’
King’s piece was only published in the Berkley Books mass-market paperback edition of
Thomas M. Disch’s novel The M.D.— readers should take care to secure the correct edition.
No Cats: An Appreciation of Lawrence Block and Matthew Scudder (1992)
As readers can already deduce, King has introduced a lot of books. The assortment is eclectic
and includes many genre novels. He opens discussing this aspect of his non-fiction writing: ‘Writing
an introduction to a good genre novel—one which has withstood the ever-popular “test of time”—is a
little bit like being the best man at a wedding, with this difference: all the best man has to do in order
to succeed is not faint or fart audibly during the ceremony, and produce the ring when it is asked for.
The introduction-writer doesn’t have to worry about losing the ring, at least, but he is supposed to say
something, and the person being introduced (the only person who can be absolutely counted on to
read the introduction) hopes it will be something interesting.’
In his introductions, book reviews and elsewhere, King is often trying to make readers aware of
the work of good, relatively unknown artists and this piece is no different. ‘If it does nothing else, The
Sins of the Father will introduce new readers to a distinctive voice in American fiction, and to a
character who confirms the worth of the genre from which he came. It is writing which exists
splendidly on its own merits, and it emphatically deserves this longer-lasting hardcover edition. One
other thing—if you enjoy it as much as I did upon re-reading it, remember that this is only the place
where Matt Scudder’s long, sometimes painful, and always interesting journey begins.’ Indeed,
through 2005’s All The Flowers Are Dying there are sixteen Matthew Scudder novels.
This introduction appears only in the Dark Harvest limited and trade hardcover editions of The
Sins of the Fathers: A Matthew Scudder Novel, by Lawrence Block. King would later write short
introductory notes for an anthology edited by Block—see Untitled (November 1999) below.
Introduction: Shiver...Shake...Scream...and Wonder (1992)
King begins this introduction telling readers that comedies and horror movies are the only movie
styles that have never gone out of fashion. He continues in this vein: ‘comedies and horror pictures,
the only ones that invite us—hell, beg us—to disregard ordinary theater etiquette (“Please Be Quiet
So EVERYONE Can Enjoy the Show!”) and make as much racket as possible. Comedies and horror
pictures, which, when successful, cause us to make loud noises in the dark. Comedies and horror
pictures, which, in their bright simplicities and nightmarish juxtapositions, are most like the dreams
that slip through our sleep as half-glimpsed shapes. And perhaps, in the end, they are really the same
thing...because isn’t our laughter more often than not a defense against some painful indignity or
almost unbearable embarrassment? Is it perhaps horror when it happens to us and only comedy when
it happens to someone else?’ Of course, this isn’t the first time King has posed the idea of horror as a
form of catharsis.
He lists his ten favorite horror movies and his ten favorite horror movie posters (appropriate
because this book is a collection of horror, fantasy and science-fiction art). King’s ten favorite horror
movies in this offering150: Alien, Burnt Offerings, The Changeling, Curse of the Demon, Dawn ofthe Dead, Dementia 13, The Evil Dead, Pet Sematary, Psycho and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
His ten favorite horror movie posters are: Child’s Play 2, Curse of the Demon, Earth vs. the Flying
Saucers, I Was a Teenage Frankenstein, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Night of the Living Dead,
Paper House, Rabid, The She-Creature and Them!
This introduction makes its only appearance in Graven Images: The Best of Horror Fantasy
and science-fiction Film Art from the Collectionof Ronald V. Borst and Margaret A. Borst edited
by Ronald V. Borst, Keith Burns, and Leith Adams. Published in hardcover in 1992 by
Grove/Atlantic, it appears regularly on eBay and can be also purchased from online booksellers and
King dealers.
James Herbert: Introduction (1992)
King provides quotes from the punk rock band, the Sex Pistols, and James Herbert to head this
introduction, and references the former later in the essay. The Sex Pistols quote that King uses is from
their song, Anarchy in the U. K.: ‘Don’t know what I want, but I know how to get it.’ The James
Herbert quote is from his novel, The Spear: ‘He knew that she was dead. But he wondered why her
tongue had been ripped out.’
The actual piece opens, ‘ “Engage brain before grasping pen” is a pretty good rule to follow
when writing essays, but in this case I might have overdone it a little. I was first asked to write a
piece for By Horror Haunted over a year ago, and have been thinking about James (Jim, to his
friends) Herbert at odd moments ever since. Sometimes I found myself wondering how he has
continued to write such delightful (strange word to use, considering his subject matter, but a true
word nevertheless) and involving novels when so many of his contemporaries and imitators have
either fallen by the wayside or into self-parody. At some later date I found myself wondering if I
might be able to write about him in an evolutionary sense—because he has evolved—and realized
that I had answered my original question by posing this second one. James Herbert is still around and
still prospering precisely because he has evolved.’
King closes speculating about Herbert’s future career and echoing a sentiment he himself has
uttered more than once over the years: ‘ I’m just a storyteller—he says it over and over again in his
interviews. Just a storyteller, and that’s fine with me. Yet the interviews—and, more importantly, the
books—of the last few years make it clear that the process of becoming a storyteller is still going on
inside Jim. The cauldron is still bubbling, the loom still shuttling. Herbert has got enough better, in
fact, to make me wonder with real excitement what he might be up to in the year 2010, and that is a
long way from thinking he might flame out or blow up. It’s enough to make you wonder what the Sex
Pistols might have become if that silly clot Sid Vicious had managed to stay away from needles.’
This introduction is exclusive to United Kingdom publications, only appearing in James
Herbert: By Horror Haunted, edited by Stephen Jones, published in hardcover by New English
Library and by Book Club Associates, both in 1992.
Introduction (September 1993)
This very short piece of only three paragraphs was included at the beginning of a companion
book about the popular television classic, The Fugitive. King makes two claims about why this show
was different from all others: ‘ The Fugitive was a groundbreaking television series because it
featured a hero who was totally powerless. Everybody who watched The Fugitive could identify
with Richard Kimble... The Fugitive broke all the stereotypes. It was at the time (and still is, when
you see the reruns) absolutely the best series done on American television. There was nothing better
than The Fugitive—it just turned everything on its head.’
Thi s Introduction has only appeared in The Fugitive Recaptured: The 30th Anniversary
Companion to the Television Classic by Ed Robertson, released in trade paperback format by
Pomegranate Press in September 1993.
On J. K. Potter: The Art of the Morph (November 1993)
In this piece King talks about his previous forays writing essays on artwork: ‘There’s an old
superstition which holds that things come in threes, and it’s one that offers some comfort as I sit down
to write this brief essay. This is the third time in the last seven or eight years that I’ve agreed to
introduce a book of artwork, you see (my previous lunges in this direction covered the work of Berni
Wrightson and the gargoyles which overlook downtown Manhattan151), and that means that I may soon
be able to put my art critic’s hat back in the closet. I will be happy to do; it doesn’t fit very well. I
reached the apogee of my own career as a visual artist in the first grade, doing stick-figure drawings
of children jumping rope outside vast, crooked houses, and that fact makes me very uneasy about
writing essays that concern themselves with art. I lack the unquestioning arrogance of the true critic,
and am thus able to write with very little confidence about artistic ideas in which I have absolutely no
talent whatsoever. To write a negative analysis concerning somebody’s work in such a field would
be completely beyond me, but that is most definitely not the case—J. K. Potter’s best work may
sometimes unsettle me, but it never leaves me feeling let down, presumed upon, or demeaned.’
Once again, King ends a piece by donning the friendly old Uncle Steve mask: ‘Oh, look here—
we seem to have come to a barricade across the path. One could push it over and stride on, I suppose,
but I urge you not to. If we step into the shadow of yon trees, we may enter a new world, one full of
sights we have never seen before. Shall we? Take my arm—I’ll go with you,’ he closes.
The piece first appeared in a magazine, Interzone for November 1993. It was reprinted in a
book, Horripilations: The Art of J. K. Potter by Nigel Suckling, published as a trade paperback in
the United Kingdom in 1993. That book was reprinted by the specialist King publisher, The Overlook
Connection Press in 1995. The magazine is very difficult to locate but the two books may be
purchased from the usual King sources.
Foreword (1993)
This is a very short (three paragraph) introduction to the modern classic, The House Next Door
by Anne Rivers Siddons. King opens, ‘When I began putting together a study of the Gothic horror
novel for a non-fiction book I’d been thinking about since the mid-70s, I had just become aware of a
young Southern writer who seemed to have quite an original talent for the genre. Anne Rivers
Siddons, it occurred to me as I read The House Next Door, was one of those rarities—a fledgling
fiction writer (this was her second novel) who could create a fully realized sense of place, populate
it with real people and make them do things that any reader would die to know about.’
King had expressed his liking for this work previously: ‘As I wrote to her in April of 1981, “I
loved The House Next Door and hope you’ll work in the genre again.” While her eight subsequent
novels retain much of the tone and spirit of the horror novel, I was happy when she asked if I would
write this foreword for the new edition of her only pure Gothic. So far.’ As he suggested, King wrote
extensively of this book in Danse Macabre—see our Danse Macabre, On Writing chapter.
The piece first appeared in the limited edition hardcover of The House Next Door by Anne
Rivers Siddons, published by Old New York Book Shop Press in 1993 (a limited trade hardcover
edition was published simultaneously). In 1995, The Overlook Connection Press printed an edition
consisting of re-bound copies of the Old New York Book Shop Press limited edition. While all these
are fairly difficult to obtain specialist King sellers do offer them irregularly.
An Introduction (1994)
King has always been a fan of comic books and graphic novels, so an introduction to a
collection of the classic Sandman series should come as no surprise. He writes, ‘Can I say anything
new about the Sandman, Death’s dark brother, at this point, or add to the cartography of his legend?
Doubt it, Constant Reader152. Doubt it very much. I got to this introducin’ party rather late, you see,
and some of the people who got here first are pretty awesome heads. Neil Gaiman is a pretty
awesome head himself, but those of you who have been following the series through its many odd
— very odd, extremely odd, ultimately odd—twists and turns hardly need me to tell you that. Which
is part of the problem. I should give you a bunch of reheated leftovers when this guy (not to mention
Bryan Talbot, Mark Buckingham, Shea Anton Pensa, and all the other pencil people and inkfolk here
represented) is going to follow me? I mean, jeez, Louise. Gimme a friggin’ break.’
He closes, ‘These are great stories, and we’re all lucky to have them. To read Now, and maybe
again Then, later on, when we need what only a good story has the power to do: to take us away to
worlds that never existed, in the company of people we wish we were...or thank God we aren’t.
That’s enough from this end, I think. All of you turn the page, like good little girls and boys....’
This introduction appeared in The Sandman, Volume 8: Worlds’ End, by Neil Gaiman, edited
by Bob Kahan, illustrated by D. Giordana, V. Locke, and Dave McKean; a graphic novel printed in
hardcover by DC Comics/Vertigo in 1994. The book was issued in trade paperback in 1995.
Foreword (1995)
King opens the foreword to PSYCHOanalysis, by Steve Lyons by writing of its baseball
player/author, referencing his nickname and the book’s title: ‘At some point between the time when
baseball crapped out in August of 1994 and the time when it finally crapped back in during April of
1995, Steve Lyons wrote a book, which he calls Psycho analysis. Great title. And, if you happened to
go through most of your baseball career nicknamed Psycho, maybe the only title.’
King loves baseball (see our Faithful, Head Down and the Red Sox Obsession chapter)—that
he loves Lyons’s book comes as no surprise. Closing, he says, ‘Steve Lyons’s book...is the story of a
hard-working (and occasionally ill-used) player who never lost his love of the game...or (lucky for
him) his sense of humor. It doesn’t tell everything; there’s not much in the way of sin, sex, and scandal
(what a relief) but it tells enough to make me absolutely positive of one thing: if Steve Lyons is a
psycho, I want to be one, too.’
This piece appeared in PSYCHOanalysis, by Steve Lyons. Sagamore Publishing released it in
hardcover in 1995; a trade paperback appeared in 2001.
Introduction: Rita Hayworth and the Darabont Redemption (March 1996)
The Shawshank Redemption was one of the best, most successful and critically acclaimed of
King film adaptations. He opens: ‘I love the movies. When people ask how come so many films have
been made from my work (twenty-five or so, including half a dozen pretty good ones), I say it’s
simple: I love the movies. From time to time I have been accused by curmudgeonly critics of writing
with the movies foremost in my mind, but why would I? The money for the books is three times
better...if, that is, money is even the yardstick we must use to measure with. The fact is, I have never
written with the movies in mind, but I have always written with them in my eye. When asked why I
had been so successful as a novelist, Bill Thompson, my first editor, said: “Steve has a projector in
his head.” I don’t (it would be very bulky, for one thing, and would make it impossible to get through
airport metal detectors), but sometimes it does feel that way. My books are the movies I see in my
head, that’s all. I write them down, and some producer says, “Hey! This’d make a pretty good
movie!” because in a way it already is one.’ King mentions this metaphor of seeing his writing as a
film inside his head from time to time and most readers would agree it is apt.
As most King fans know, many of the film adaptations of his work are sub-par at best. However,
there are many that are good and a few are widely praised, and among those is The Shawshank
Redemption, written and directed by Frank Darabont. King closes with praise for the director and the
film, and with reference to the playful title of this introduction: ‘Frank’s screenplay follows. I urge
you to read it and enjoy it, but also to marvel over it: you are, in the realest sense, reading a dream
come true, a miraculous triumph of art over the buck. As for me, I’m just grateful to have known
Frank, and to have experienced the Darabont Redemption firsthand.’
Darabont previously made the first ever ‘dollar baby’ (a movie made from King’s work by film
students, for which King charges $1.00 for the rights but does not allow commercial exploitation)
and, of course, would go on to write and direct The Green Mile, another huge critical success. 153
King also introduced that screenplay (see Introduction to The Green Mile: The Screenplay below).
This piece appears in The Shawshank Redemption: The Shooting Script, by Frank Darabont,
published by Newmarket Press in 1996.
~FLASH~ Tim Sample Saves America! (1996)
Tim Sample is a well-known Maine satirist. King has always supported fellow New Englanders
(especially those from Maine) and Sample is no exception. With regard to the title of this piece he
feels some explanation is in order: ‘Okay. Okay. So Tim didn’t save America. Exactly. But he has
been responsible for saving a part of America, an important part, and if you’ll lend me your ear for
just a few minutes before turning it (your ear, that is) over to Mr. Sample, I think I can make you
understand what I mean. And by the way, up in these parts, ear rhymes with the girl’s name Leah. If
you can get that straight and keep that straight, you’ve come a fair way toward understanding Maine
humor. Deah.’
The crux of King’s argument is this: ‘Tim has done three great things in his career, in typically
modest Down East fashion: he has accurately set down the stories and voices of his home place, he
has made them universal, and he has captured our own unique version of humorous storytelling.’
The piece only appeared in The New Saturday Night at Moody’s Diner: Even More Stories, a
book written and illustrated by Tim Sample. 154 It was published by a small Camden, Maine company,
Down East Books in trade paperback in July 1996 and is very difficult to find. Readers should
contact the usual King sources; second hand book dealers in Maine and New England generally; along
with eBay and abebooks.
Introduction toThe Girl Next Door(October 1996)
King begins this piece with the author of The Girl Next Door and his pseudonym: ‘There is no
Jack Ketchum, not really: It’s a pseudonym for a man named Dallas Mayr. This is certainly not the
sort of thing I’d be letting out if it were a closely kept secret, but it’s not; Dallas Mayr’s name
appears on the copyright pages of all Ketchum’s novels (seven or eight have been published in the
United States), and if he gives you an autograph, he’s apt to sign himself “Dallas.” (His readers will
probably get “Jack Ketchum” on the tip-sheets of this edition, however!) Jack Ketchum never seemed
like a bona fide nom de plume to me, anyway; more like a nom de guerre. And a fitting one. Jack
Ketch was, after all, the name given to generations of British hangmen, and in the novels of his
American namesake, no one really survives; the trap always drops, the noose always runs up tight,
and even the innocent are apt to swing.’
King loves Ketchum’s style and, in fact, revels in it: ‘The only two sure things in life are death
and taxes, the old saying goes, but I can add a third: Disney Pictures will never make a movie out of a
Jack Ketchum novel. In Ketchum’s world the dwarves are cannibals, the wolves never run out of
breath with which to huff and puff, and the princess ends up in a fallout shelter, tied to a beam while a
madwoman burns away her clitoris with a laundry-iron.’
He opines, ‘we would be poorer in terms of our literary experience without him [Ketchum], it
Дата добавления: 2015-11-04; просмотров: 30 | Нарушение авторских прав
| <== предыдущая лекция | | | следующая лекция ==> |