ICHTHYIC IN THE AFTERGLOW IS OUT THROUGH MORBIDBOOKS!

My first book Ichthyic in the Afterglow is now for sale, and published through MorbidbookS.

The book has been out for about two weeks and has gotten some nice reviews, and I’m particularly proud of the love from not only the Bizarro and horror readers, but also the Weird (with a capital ‘W’) and the Lovecratian crowd. This book is a good amalgamation of my influences, and I’m very happy with it. Buy here from Amazon for paperback or Kindle also, if any reviewers want a PDF for review contact me through jwallen1018@gmail.com

While you’re there check out some more MorbidbookS writers!

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MELISSA ALLEN by Bradley Sands

Bradley Sands probably needs no introduction here. He is a legend of Bizarro fiction, and has written such classics as TV Snorted My Brain, It Came From Below The Belt, and his most recent from Eraserhead Press, Dodgeball High, was a hysterical dodgeball-to-the-face blast!

It’s available on Amazon.com

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I recently saw that Bradley was running a special promotion where for only $5.00 you could send three facts about yourself and he would write a surreal prose-poem about you. So, I sent him three facts about my wife, Melissa, and this is the poem.

It’s insane, and she seemed confused by it, absolutely loved it!

Thank you, Bradley

Jason Wayne Allen

MELISSA ALLEN

by

Bradley Sands

Melissa Allen takes a vacation to Planet Purple Zebra Print. She’s having a great time, until someone’s purple zebra print underwear turns black. When the government is unable to prevent this news from spreading, the planet’s inhabitants completely lose their shit and prepare for Armageddon. News correspondent Zippy McPrint is broadcasting live from downtown New Zebra when Melissa Allen grabs his microphone and yells, “It’s just black and white underwear! It isn’t the end of the world!” Struggling to get the microphone back, Zippy says, “Please, miss. I need to finish my report on people rioting in the streets and refusing to return their library books.” “I know how to solve your problem,” Melissa says. “How?” Zippy asks. “I’ll do it for all the expensive handbags in the world.” Melissa Allen puts on a ninja costume and breaks into a secret, high-security storage facility. She burns the black zebra print underwear until nothing is left except memories of pandemonium and replaces it with a pair of purple zebra print underwear. Then she gets in touch with the planet’s government to inquire about her fee. But… purple zebra print skyscrapers collapse onto purple zebra print people, purple zebra print bridges and dams explode, purple zebra print lava rains down upon the cities, purple zebra print condoms break, resulting in the conception of children that will never see the light of the purple zebra print sun. Melissa flees the planet in an escape pod. As she watches it blow up, she reflects back upon her exciting, wonderful vacation and how she’s really looking forward to going back home to play Nintendo.

Bradley Sands is an author of bizarro fiction. He wrote Dodgeball High, TV Snorted My Brain, Rico Slade Will F*cking Kill You, Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy, and other books.

Visit him at http://www.bradleysands.com

The Nickronomicon by Nick Mamatas (A Review by Jason Wayne Allen)

You can Pre-order The Nickronomicon by Nick Mamatas at the link below.

The book goes on sale November 18th 2014 from Innsmouth Free Press! Also, if you purchase during the pre-sale, you get 20% off the cover price!

 http://www.innsmouthfreepress.com/blog/tb-books/the-nickronomicon/

I would like to thank Silvia Moreno-Garcia from Innsmouth Free Press for the review copy of this book, and also Nick Mamatas for writing such  brilliant, entertaining, and thought-provoking stories.–Jason Wayne Allen

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The Nickronomicon is a collection of Lovecraftian tales by author Nick Mamatas that are modern, unique spins on ye old Yogsothery, introducing ingenious takes on Lovecraft’s mythos, and a signature style all Mamatas’s own. Nick Mamatas is a legend of Lovecraftian fiction, anyone who has read Move Under Ground can testify to that, but I think with the cleverly, and fittingly titled, The Nickcronomicon, the author’s voice and ideas truly proves to be one of the most vital, and relevant in the Lovecraftian genre.

One of the best examples of this vitality, and relevancy can be found in the novella that closes the book, On the Occasion of my Retirement (original to this collection) where we have a professor at Miskatonic University embroiled in a sex scandal with a student. After his termination from his position his money starts to dwindle, and he attempts to sale an artifact, a mysterious blacker than black stone, or bas-relief through online markets. His attempts to get a clear picture for the online markets has him calling in favors and blackmail from Miskatonic‘s A.V. department. Through a series of events he is forced into the artifact where he suffers insectoid-existential angst of a Kafkaesque variety. Oh, and our protagonist is a black guy by the way, the type of protag rarely seen in Lovecraftian stories. This story is a great example because it combines modern, relevant subject matter, and relatable characters with Lovecraft’s signature antiquarian-related themes, and philosophies in regards to man’s place in the universe…Oh, and there is a brilliant homage to Lovecraft’s The Thing On the Doorstep that you never see coming!

A few other standouts, Inky, Pinky, Blinky, Nyarlathotep, a bizarre mix of the Old Ones and Pac-Man! Seriously, and it works!
And Other Horrors written with legend Don Webb, a gritty story about a thief who switches bodies with a member of the Great Race of Yith!–This is a very trippy tale, genius in its execution.
And Then, And Then, And Then a short tale about a guy who finds religion, so to speak, in the town of Innsmouth…I could go on, there is really not a dud in this collection. All things Lovecraft are here, including creepy epistolary tales that come off believable even, but carry Mamatas’s unique signature.

The Nickronomicon also contains some beautifully cryptic artwork by GMB Chomichuk that would do the Mad Arab himself proud!

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If you are a fan of W.H. Pugmire, Joseph S. Pulver Sr., Laird Barron, and generally very different, and interesting ideas, and voices in Lovecraftian fiction, The Nickronomicon is required reading, it doesn’t get much better than this!

–Jason Wayne Allen

A Very Beat Thanksgiving

There are a couple blog entries about Anderson already so there’s no need for an origin story.

He’s my buddy, a great artist and writer, and I’m proud to host this story.

A Thanksgiving nod to Beat Lit. and my book The Rotgut County Blues.

Thanks, Anderson,

JWA

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A Very Beat

Thanksgiving

by

David Anderson

 

“Fuck the status quo,” said Frank as he sprung the lock on the cage. “We are getting the fuck out of here.”

Tony nodded, slipping out with Frank as they gave up their sacrificial servitude to “The Man”. In this case, “The Man” really was Man.  As in mankind.

***

A Turkey can’t drive, but they can hitch a ride. Frank and Tony had escaped death, and were now on the open road in America, searching for answers. And not a moment too soon, as a sign in a store window said THREE DAYS TIL THANKSGIVING. The fucking humans changed the date every year, just to confuse their fowl subserviants.

The two Turkeys had scored some LSD off the trucker they were riding with, he didn’t seem to notice them hiding amongst the drilling equipment he was taking from Maine to San Francisco. Frank and Tony had a free trip across America, and they intended to get really fucked up along the way.

“I’m fucking tripping balls, bro,” said Tony as he thought for a moment he was a roasted bird atop a serving plate, foaming-mouthed humans sharpening their knives, ready to eat him.

“You just got to get to a better place, man,” said Frank, lighting up a joint he had scored off a hooker we she bent down to pet him at a rest stop.

Tony thought about that, trying to center his energy, trying to maintain a positive chi. He thought about the time he had period sex with that hen, it was messy but good. She popped out some bastard eggs though, but luckily some sick farmer with a taste for turkey omelets solved that little child-support problem. Turkey periods didn’t work like normal periods.

Frank was on his side, scratching the wall with his feet as his eyes rolled around. “America is weird,” he said, over and over. He also mentioned the surreal art era and how it deeply changed him.

Tony trotted over, pulling the joint from Frank’s beak, commandeering it to prevent a fire in the back of the truck, but also to get himself a bit more relaxed. They had a long way to go.

***

The road through Ohio was dotted with stout little trees, leaves fallen and crested with snow. A cold wind whipped through the back of the truck, and the two turkeys huddles together for warmth.

“I wonder if Anne is being eaten on some plate right now,” wondered Tony aloud as he imagined his menstrual lass, the image of the cute hen getting decapitated and then plucked and BBQ’ed shattering his calm aura.

“Man, best not to think about that. She’s gone now, man.”

“But I miss her, even though we only had that one night.”

“Shot gun romances, what can I tell you man.”

The two fowl did more LSD as the sun rose, the clouds above in the morning sky becoming familiar animals they used to see on the farm. After a four hour discussion of American versus Foreign Films, the two decided to just read poetry, read poetry for hours.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Frank said, happy he was getting his taste of America.

 

David Anderson lives in Mesa, Arizona and is author
of other non-fiction titles such as ‘Ping Pong: Master
Level Moves’ and ‘Beauty of the Sonoran Desert while
biking close to dark’. His official website is
mineralemporium.com