Of great interest is that Ackerman almost published a story King wrote and sent him as a child,
The Killer. Ackerman kept the manuscript and it was eventually published in Famous Monsters of
Filmland in 1994.147 Also, see the letter King wrote to Ackerman when the budding author was but
fourteen, listed as Untitled (1987) in our Letters to the Editor, Guest Columns chapter.
Stephen King (1982)
This is an extremely short piece in which King briefly discusses two short stories, The Color
Out of Space by H. P. Lovecraft and Sweets to the Sweet by Robert Bloch. He also briefly introduces
The Companion by Ramsey Campbell, which he chose for inclusion in this anthology. Of that story he
writes, ‘I have never really fully understood what’s going on in “The Companion”; all I know is that
it produces a sense of growing dreamlike menace, capped by one of the most frightening final
moments in short horror fiction. I can’t remember ever reading a finer example of the genre.’
The piece appears in The Arbor House Celebrity Book of Horror Stories, edited by Charles G.
Waugh and Martin H. Greenberg. Arbor House published the book simultaneously in hardcover and
trade paperback in 1982.
Foreword (1982)
This foreword first appeared in Stalking the Nightmare, by Harlan Ellison. That book was
printed in limited and trade edition hardcover by Phantasia Press in 1982, reprinted in book club and
mass-market paperback editions and finally as part of an omnibus edition, Edgeworks 2.
King begins this lengthy introduction in Ellison’s style. He also uses the milk in the icebox
metaphor, as in his introduction to John Farris’s When Michael Calls (see above): ‘Does it sound
like Harlan wrote it?’ he asks. ‘It does? That’s because I just finished the admirable book which
follows. For the last four days, I have been, so to speak, sitting next to Harlan in the icebox. I am not
copying his style; nothing as low as that. I have, rather, taken a brief impression of his style, the way
that, when we were kids, we used to be able to take a brief impression of Beetle Bailey or Blondie
from the Sunday funnies with a piece of Silly Putty (headline in the New York Times Book Review:
KING OFFERS EERILY APT METAPHOR FOR HIS OWN MIND!!).’
He closes with one of his most endearing appreciations of any author: ‘You don’t make it over
the long haul on the basis of your personality. Fifteen years after the funny guys and the dynamic guys
and the spellbinders croak, nobody remembers who the fuck they were. Luckily, Harlan Ellison has
got it both ways—but don’t concern yourself with the personality. Instead, dig into the collection
which follows. There’s something better, more lasting, and much more important than personality
going on here: you’ve got a good, informed writer working well over a span of years, learning,
spinning tales, laying in the needle, doing handstands and splits and pratfalls...entertaining you
goddammit! Everything else put aside, is anything better than that? I don’t think so. And so I’ll just
close by saying it for you: Thank you Harlan. Thank you, man.’
Special Make-Up Effects and the Writer (January 1983)
The book King introduces here is by Tom Savini, a famous special effects artist who worked on
King’s Creepshow film project. He opens: ‘“I’ll show you things beyond your wildest dreams.” For
a writer of novels—particularly spooky ones—showing the reader such wild things comes so cheap
it’s positively disgusting. The Shining cost roughly 19 million dollars to produce as a film; it cost
roughly $24.00 to produce as a novel—costs of paper, typewriter ribbons, and postage. The thing is,
when it’s on the page it’s what Paddy Chayefsky once called “mental work”...and you can’t put a
price on that. No more, I suppose, than you can put a price on the special effects artist’s genius. And
genius is what it is, when it’s done right.’
King argues the importance of a technician like Savini: ‘The writer sees it in his mind, and that’s
good. Seeing it on the screen, carried through with vision and daring, is wonderful. Special effects
may not be the greatest thing about the movies—I would not argue that they are—but when anyone
really can show you something beyond your wildest dreams, I’d have to argue that it’s pretty damn
fine.’
This piece was first published in a trade paperback book, Grande Illusions: A Learn-by-
Example Guide to the Art and Technique of Special Make-Up Effects by Tom Savini, in 1983.
Harmony Books/Crown Publishers reprinted it the same year as Bizarro!
Introduction (1983)
King starts the introduction to Tales by Moonlight by tackling a regular topic—the declining
market for short fiction. He goes on to say that some of the stories in this book are quite bad and
others are very good, and that in this case the good do outweigh the bad. With a couple of exceptions,
the writers in this anthology are relatively unknown; King mentions this and knows it isn’t necessarily
a bad thing. ‘Sitting down with the manuscript was like sitting down to inventory the contents of a
large suitcase purchased in a sealed-trunk auction.’
He concludes writing of the quality of the stories within and the value of finding a diamond in
the rough. ‘But everything good in this outlaw genre comes from the jungle, and no one understood
better than our parents when they ripped the horror comics and the screaming paperbacks by A.
Merritt and Richard Matheson and H.P. Lovecraft out of our hands. They didn’t want us in the jungle,
and serious critics acknowledge that jungle only reluctantly, but it is there, in all its ripe-rotten
mystery. These stories expose that jungle, and some of these writers will certainly come out of it rich
(“There are diamonds in there! Diamonds!!” as one of the characters in “King Solomon’s Mines”
whispers in a voice hoarse with wonder). One only hopes they will bring some of the jungle with
them. This is a flawed, uneven book, but it compensates with wonder; I hope we will see a sequel
soon.’ There was indeed a sequel, published in 1989, though King did not contribute.
Tales by Moonlight, edited by Jessica Amanda Salmonson, was originally published in 1983 by
Robert T. Garcia in numbered, lettered and limited trade editions. In 1985 Tor Books reprinted it in
mass-market paperback format.
Introduction to the Marvel Edition of Frankenstein (1983)
King’s introduction to this edition of the classic Frankenstein by Mary Shelley is in two parts: I.
“Concerning The Book” and II. “Concerning the Artist”. This method of introduction is especially
relevant because Berni Wrightson illustrated this edition and, as King fans know, Wrightson is one of
his favorites. He was responsible for the artwork in Creepshow, Cycle of the Werewolf, The Stand:
The Complete & Uncut Edition, the limited edition of From A Buick 8 and The Dark Tower V:
Wolves of the Calla.
King mentions he had written about this book in length in his introduction to the omnibus
Frankenstein, Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (see above) and in his non-fiction book Danse
Macabre, and that he is not about to do it again! He writes most readers might be disappointed with
this book because of the expectations they have already built up and, if they are looking for an
analysis, they should look ‘in Danse Macabre (shallow analysis), in the PhD file at your local
college (deep analysis), or in a Cliff’s Notes (dumb analysis).’ King tells us that even though it is a
difficult novel it is wonderful. ‘How is it wonderful? Never mind. I said I wasn’t going to serve that
particular batch of leftovers again, remember? Go to one of the sources cited above, or better still,
read the book.’
Concerning the artist King writes, ‘The man who made the pictures which go with this book is
Berni Wrightson, and he is one of the most talented artists to come out of the comic-book field in the
last twenty-five years or so. I don’t know if Berni is offended by the term “comic-book artist” or not,
because I know next to nothing about art. There is no prejudice in my ignorance, however; I know as
little about Michelangelo as I do about Walt Kelly.’ He closes, ‘I hope you’ll enjoy the wild tale that
follows and the joyous, energetic representations of life which accompany them...and I think you
will.’
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary W. Shelley and illustrated by Berni
Wrightson was published in 1983 by Dodd, Mead, & Co. in numbered, lettered and trade edition
hardcovers. That same year it was published by Marvel as an “illustrated novel.” In 1994,
Underwood-Miller reprinted that edition in limited and trade hardcover, and trade paperback, as
Bernie Wrightson’s Frankenstein. All carried King’s Introduction.
Introduction (1984)
King’s introduction to the reprinting of the classic novel, The Blackboard Jungle by Evan
Hunter is in three parts: “The Story”; “The Blackboard Jungle”; and “American Naturalism and
Some Critical Thoughts”. In the first King briefly discusses the basis for the novel in two paragraphs.
Moving to the second section he provides a metaphor and his definition of naturalism, which he
believes this novel uses: ‘What exactly is naturalism? I won’t try to define it, exactly, but I’d say this:
imagine a figurative car. The body and the accessories are drama or even out-and out melodrama. The
engine, however—the hidden part that makes the car actually go—is realism.’
King has always had a keen eye for what is going on in America: culturally, sociologically,
politically and so on. Closing, he argues ‘… this is a brave voice, speaking out suddenly and with
surprising vigor from the literary horse latitudes of the mid-fifties. As we face a great revolution in
American education and in the way Americans view and deal with the rot of their urban centers, it is
not a bad idea at all to reissue this book, so that a generation of thoughtful readers can reexperience
its clarity, its drama (and its melodrama), but perhaps most of all its early warning of educational and
urban illness.’
This piece was first published in a 1984 Arbor House trade paperback edition of The
Blackboard Jungle, as part of Arbor’s Library of Contemporary Americana series. Evan Hunter is, of
course, a pseudonym for writer Ed McBain.
King also wrote a portion of a tribute to McBain in Mystery Scene magazine in 2001‚ see On Ed
McBain; and a short tribute to McBain in 2005, which appeared in A Celebration of the Life and
Achievements of Evan Hunter A.K.A. Ed McBain, a very rare program booklet—both are covered in
our Miscellany chapter.
You Are Here Because You Want the Real Thing (March 1986)
King begins this rare piece recounting being at the 1983 World Fantasy Convention and hearing
everyone talking about Clive Barker being the future of horror. Later, he relates an interesting
anecdote many may not have noticed, which relates to the title of this piece: ‘At the beginning of Bob
Seger’s first live album— Live Bullet, the good one—you can hear the stage announcer telling an
audience almost delirious with excitement, “You are here because you want the real thing.” The same
might be said of Barker’s audience.’
King ends with fine praise for Barker, who would become a major writer in his own right:
‘Barker’s tales, both surreal and naturalistic at the same time, represent horror fiction at its best.
Which is also its worst; nasty, insane, brutal, breathtaking, allegorical, asymmetrical, deeply
revolting and deeply challenging. Here are all the freaks and weeping children. His unabashed glee in
what he does is his best recommendation, the sledgehammer effect of his tales his best card of
identity. Are you here because you want the real thing? Then you are here to meet Clive Barker.’
This piece was first published in the Albacon III Programme Book, which was distributed at
Albacon III, a convention held in Glasgow, Scotland from March 28—31, 1986. The authors have not
been able to track down this piece in its original appearance and have never seen the booklet for sale.
Even a hardcore collector will therefore have trouble securing an original copy. Fortunately it was
also reprinted in a preview booklet, A Special Preview Tale from The Inhuman Condition, for
Barker’s collection, The Inhuman Condition. This appearance is also very hard to find. The easiest
form of access is therefore a reprint in Clive Barker’s Shadows in Eden, edited by Stephen Jones,
published in limited and trade edition hardcovers by Underwood-Miller in 1991 and a trade
paperback in 1993.
On the Far Side (September 1986)
This is a short and interesting introduction, mostly composed of short sentence-long ‘paragraphs’
with more substantive writing between. King opens: ‘Wanna hear my definition of a Golden Age as
applies to x? No? Okay, here it is anyway: A Golden Age is a time when so many things about x are
wonderful and unique that x itself is taken for granted. And you can quote me honeychile. Take the art
of cartooning in the ‘80s. I could say that the work of Gary Larson is absolutely unique, and that it
will make you laugh your butt off, and that is true, but it means nothing in itself because in the ‘80s
there are at least two dozen cartoonists who can make you laugh your butt off, and all of them are
unique.’
He ends with this, of Larson’s work: ‘ Explain him? No. Explicate him? No. Enjoy him? Yes.
God, yes. Forget the anchovies on your pizza; if you can dig anchovies of the mind, you’re gonna have
a blast. Just don’t o.d. You could die laughing.’ The style perfectly suits the work King is introducing,
something we see throughout the breadth of his non-fiction.
This piece appeared in The Far Side Gallery 2 by Gary Larson, first published in a trade
paperback edition in 1986 by Andrews and McMeel. A book club reprinted it, as did Warner, and
Futura in the United Kingdom.
Why I Chose Batman (October 1986)
King begins with the questions that were impossible to answer when one was a kid: ‘These
were questions asked and answered after you were too tired to swim out to the raft anymore and had
crashed out on the beach, or when you were walking home from the baseball field in summer’s sweet
dusk with your feet burning inside your sneakers, or before you fell asleep on camp-outs. And one of
them was always this: Who do you like better, Superman or Batman? I always chose Batman.’
He closes, ‘I’d like to congratulate the Caped Crusader on his long and valiant history, thank him
for the hours of pleasure he has given me, and wish him many more years of heroic crime-busting. Go
get ‘em, Big Guy. May your Bat-Signal never fail, your Batmobile never run out of the nuclear pellets
it runs on, your utility belt never come up fatally understocked at the wrong moment. And please,
never come busting through my skylight in the middle of the night. You’d probably scare me into a
brain hemorrhage...and besides, Big Guy, I’m on your side. I always was.’
This piece was only printed in the Batman Comics #400 Anniversary Issue, published in
October 1986. Copies of this issue can be found in many comic book stores, online comic book
dealers or from the usual King sources.
Big Jim Thompson: An Appreciation (1986)
King is almost encyclopedic in his knowledge of hardboiled crime stories and the authors that
populate the genre. He opens this introduction: ‘If you put me under the gun (and I guess, considering
the subject, the pun is intended), I could probably name twenty great novelists of the “hardboiled
detective” school within half an hour. It would by my list, granted; purists might not like the inclusion
of such writers as Ed McBain and John D. MacDonald, but it would also include those of who even
the purists would approve—Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, Ross MacDonald, Robert Parker,
and so on. If you put me under the gun and asked me to name those American novelists who I believe
have written great novels of the criminal mind, my list would be much shorter, and half the people on
it only wrote one. Theodore Dreiser (An American Tragedy); Frank Norris (McTeague); Elliot Chaze
(Wettermark). The three who wrote more than one are Shane Stevens, James M. Cain, and Big Jim
Thompson.’
King closes with further name-dropping, now as contrast rather than comparison: ‘You are going
into the darkness without me, without Eudora Welty, without John Updike or Truman Capote or
Edmund Wilson. You are going there with a genuine maniac of the human underside. You may be
revolted. You may turn away, gasping with a sickened sort of laughter. But Big Jim Thompson will
not stop...and my guess is this: neither will you.’ For more on Thompson’s work, see A Word (Or
Two) From Stephen King: WARNING! WARNING! Hitch-hikers May Be Escaped LUNATICS!
below.
This introduction first appeared in Now and On Earth, by Jim Thompson, released in a limited
edition of 400 copies by Dennis McMillan Publications in 1986. The more accessible appearance is
a 1994 trade paperback edition, published by Vintage Crime/Black Lizard.
Foreword (1986)
This unusually short introduction is to a collection of short stories by Richard Christian
Matheson. Here, King gives a brief description of Matheson’s work, along with an apt analogy:
‘Matheson is remarkable because his stories are not novellas like many of [Theodore] Sturgeon’s
best, or short stories of traditional length like such [Ray] Bradbury classics as “Small Assassin” and
“The Emissary.” They are, instead, short, tightly wrapped, and abrupt. The typical Matheson story is
like something shot out of a staple gun.’
He closes, ‘The stories vary somewhat in execution and effect—a rather too-elegant way of
saying that some are better than others. This is to be expected; Richard Christian Matheson is still a
young man and still maturing as a writer. But these stories do more than mark him as a writer to
watch; they mark him as a writer to enjoy now.’
The piece first appeared in a limited (50 copies) advance reader’s copy edition of Scars, by
Richard Christian Matheson, distributed at the 12th World Fantasy Convention in 1986. The actual
book appeared the following year, in a limited edition by ScreamPress; and, finally, in a more
accessible, expanded version published by Tor in a mass-market paperback, Scars and Other
Distinguishing Marks.
The Ideal, Genuine Writer: A Forenote (October 1987)
King opens this lengthy piece with a note to the reader in which he thanks his wife Tabitha; and
writes briefly of the effect Robertson’s work had on him. He then begins the actual introduction, ‘This
is a forenote to Don Robertson’s novel The Ideal, Genuine Man. It is not an introduction. The idea of
writing an introduction to a Don Robertson novel is ridiculous because it is impossible. This is a
topic to which we will return once we have set our feet firmly on the ground...something which is not
always easy to do when discussing Robertson and his work.’
Robertson is still a relatively unknown writer but his talent inspired King to publish this book
under his personal imprint, Philtrum Press and to pen this essay. Later, King tells us ‘the most
unfortunate thing about Don Robertson is that he does need an introduction: he may be one of the best
unknown publishing novelists in the United States. This is not to say he does not have a coterie of fans
and admirers, because he does.’
Closing with even more praise for Robertson and his work, King writes, ‘I envy you the
experience, although I must tell you that you may never again be entirely satisfied with a book
purporting to depict “real” American life. And the effect of Robertson is a little like the effect of
going a fast five rounds with Cassius Clay about two decades ago: it takes quite awhile to wear off. I
repeat: win, lose, or draw, you have never read anything quite like the novel which follows. Never.
Never.’
This piece was originally published in The Ideal, Genuine Man, by Don Robertson, published
in a limited edition and trade hardcover by King’s private press, Philtrum in 1987. There has also
been a Book Club edition, a Signet mass-market paperback edition and a Sphere trade paperback
edition in the United Kingdom, each containing King’s Forenote, which had originally been titled The
Ideal Man.
The Strange Case of the Westlake Stationery (December 1987)
King begins this piece by hinting at the meaning of its title: ‘I suppose you’d think Don
Westlake’s stationery was only bizarre if you’d never read his novels and stories. If you have, you
understand. If you understand, it becomes pretty funny. Not as funny as the man himself—when he’s in
the mood, Donald Westlake can be downright hilarious—but pretty funny.’ He goes on to relate that
Westlake’s stationery comes from the many hotels at which he has stayed. King received a letter on
Holiday Inn stationery asking if he wanted to participate in one of Westlake’s weekend mystery
retreats and the book he is introducing is based on one of those weekends.
He closes with another reference to ‘the Westlake stationery’: ‘Now comes this book from the
estimable Mr. Dennis McMillan. Dennis sent me a check for a hundred bucks. Dennis, I’ll send it
back if the Westlake manuscript comes on hotel stationery...and if you send me a Xerox. I’ve never
been in Don and Abby’s house. The wallpaper...the toilet paper...I wonder... Could it be that...? No,
surely not. But...maybe... Day’s Inn? Caesar’s Palace? Best Western? Or maybe....’
This piece has only been published in a trade paperback, Transylvania Station: A Mohonk
Mystery by Donald and Abby Westlake. This is part of the MOHONK MYSTERY SERIES released
by Dennis McMillan Publications. It can be difficult to access, with King resellers probably the best
source.
This Guy isReallyScary (1987)
‘Banned in Boston: You’ve heard of that one, right? But banned in Dallas? Dallas, Texas? You
know, down there where they call that black stuff you put in your car awl, like the carpenter’s tool?
Where they drink Lone Star beer and eat chili so hot it comes with its own fire extinguisher (only
what you say down there is far extinguisher)? Where men are still men and women aren’t? Banned in
Dallas? Say what, boy? Only one time it’s been done, so far as I know. Only one man who could do
it. You are holding that man’s first book in your hand.’ All this in King’s short introduction to satirist
Joe Bob Briggs’ collection of film reviews.
He goes on to say that he is a big fan of Briggs’ ‘unique brand of critique-by-flamethrower’
criticism. He also wants to recommend it to readers, humor-ously noting, ‘You women step into your
frillies, your shortest skirt, your tightest tank top, and your penny loafers, you guys, throw a case of
beer in the trunk and grab your Case hat out of the closet.’ In closing: ‘Big Steve King says check it
out.’
This introduction appeared in Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-in, by Joe Bob Briggs (a pseudonym
of John Bloom). Delacorte Press published the book in the United States; and Penguin Books did so in
the United Kingdom, both in 1987. As an aside it should be noted ‘Joe Bob Briggs’ starred (and did a
remarkably good job) as the lead character, Alfie Zimmer, in James Renner’s ‘dollar baby’ 148 movie
adaptation of King’s short story, All That You Love Will Be Carried Away; and appeared in a cameo
as Deputy Joe Bob Brentwood in the mini-series, The Stand.
A Word (Or Two) From Stephen King: WARNING! WARNING! Hitch-hikers May Be
Escaped LUNATICS! (1988)
Once again we find King writing about a hardboiled crime novel and once again the author is
Jim Thompson (see Big Jim Thompson: An Appreciation earlier in this chapter). Referencing the title
of this piece King opens, ‘When a sign like this appears by the side of the road in the nightmare world
of Jim Thompson, no one even comments on it...which may be one of the reasons that Thompson’s
work is still worth regarding some forty years after it first began to be published.’
He closes by sending us into a world of Thompson’s creation and quotes the author on his way
out: ‘So it’s time to let go of my hand and enter Central City, Jim Thompson’s vision of hell. Time to
meet Lou Ford, the nothing man with the strangled conscience and the strangely divided heart. Time to
meet all of them: “Our kind. Us people. All of us that started the game with a crooked cue, that
wanted so much and got so little, that meant so good and did so bad. All us folks...all of us. All of
us. ” Amen, Jim. A-fucking-men.’
This introduction first appeared in The Killer Inside Me, by Jim Thompson, a limited edition
published in 1988 by Blood & Guts Press. It was reprinted in The Fine Art of Murder: The Mystery
Reader’s Indispensable Companion, edited by Ed Gorman, Martin H. Greenberg, and Larry Segriff
with Jon L. Breen, published in hardcover and trade paperback in 1993 by Galahad Books and
Carroll & Graf respectively; and in the Winter/Spring 1997 issue of Midnight Graffiti magazine.
Each appearance is relatively obscure and the best point of access will be online sources and King
resellers.
The Collector:A New Introduction (1989)
Opening the introduction to this novel, one of the great classics of dark fiction, King writes, ‘The
novel of suspense and the novel of ideas are two species which rarely mix well. In most cases it
seems that a suspenseful situation so excited our emotions that it’s hard to think, and a cerebral one
makes it hard to rouse any but the most delicate emotions—amusement, distaste, and surprise.’ He
realizes the importance of this book being reprinted and wants to tell us why: ‘It’s a marvelous idea
to reissue The Collector in a new edition because it...will give the reader only half of what it has to
offer on first reading. The reason is simple: If you give the average reader a novel which offers a
number of intriguing ideas about sex, class, art, and even the purpose of life wrapped around a
situation of teeth-aching suspense, like fine wire wrapped around a heavy nail, that reader will
discard the ideas wholesale and concentrate completely on the situation that is generating the
suspense.’
King again mentions the amount of ideas in this book and its literary importance: ‘I’ve done little
more than mine a few of the ideas in this marvelously rich book, but I think it’s time to have done.
Literary analysis itself is a form of collecting, and I’ve pinned enough butterflies to these
pages...enough so that I am a little disgusted at my own willingness to play the game. In a sense, it
doesn’t matter. What appears dead and mounted here will come back to life in Fowles’s taut
character study, and so I will leave you now to go on by yourself. Just leave your net behind.’
This piece originally appeared as a 12-page booklet distributed with the Book-of-the-Month
Club edition of TheCollector, by John Fowles; and was reprinted as A New Introduction to John
Fowles’s The Collector in Secret Windows by Stephen King, a collection that was also only
available through the Book-of-the-Month Club. This last appears frequently on eBay and can easily
be purchased from online King dealers.
From Stephen King (1989)
King opens this short introduction comparing the horror genre of literature to the rock genre in
music, offering a parallel between Richard Matheson and Elvis Presley: ‘To say that Richard
Дата добавления: 2015-11-04; просмотров: 21 | Нарушение авторских прав
| <== предыдущая лекция | | | следующая лекция ==> |