you will soon have these stories from the Reverend of Words, Stephen Graham Jones. Amen.
After the People Lights Have Gone Off is a collection of fifteen swift little gems of weirdness, for they are all what we in the business call really damn strange.
I won’t go through every story and tell you about it. First off, Stephen tells you about the stories at the back of the book. I’m also afraid I might make a mistake and give too much away. But before I depart and leave you to the good stuff, I’d like to make some general comments on some of these stories. I’ll pick a few of my favorites.
“Thirteen.” I’ll simply say I’m a sucker for horror stories that have to do with theaters, drive-ins, and the cinema in general. This is one of those, and it’s a good old-fashioned fear of the unknown type that is like a kind of campfire story, or legend that is told as the truth, and in time seems to be the truth.
“Brushdogs.” I adore this one. The term brushdogs is an old country term I’ve heard used here in East Texas. You’ll find out more about that as you read. This story reminds me, for some odd reason, of Robert E. Howard’s, “The Horror From The Mound.” Perhaps it’s the atmosphere. It also reminds me a bit of David Drake’s much pulpier, “The Red Leer.” But it is still all Stephen. Stephen’s style is really lean and simple on the surface, not a lot of gesturing and purple window dressings. And it’s that knife-edge prose in this one, the very disturbing ending, that causes me to suggest you might not want to read this one before bed or in some place shadowy. It would creep a creep. Very fine.
“Welcome To The Reptile House.” Oh hell, this is so wrong and so good and so beautifully written. It’s a fine and marvelous trick when it doesn’t look like anything unique or stylish is happening in the prose, but it is, and you feel it, even if you can’t quite deduce it, and it builds and builds, like a pimple soon to burst. This one is a favorite for the writing alone, not that the story itself won’t pull the skin off your ass and over the top of your head, because it will. It’s got the skin-crawling goods, dear readers. You think I’m lying. Just wait. You’ll see.
“Doc’s Story.” My favorite monster is the werewolf. Always has been. Oddly, there are very few great werewolf films and books and stories as compared to others. This one is pretty special. It’s no secret what it’s about, but how Stephen approaches the idea is what makes it sweet. Darkly sugary, and like ice cream so cold when you bite into it you get brain freeze. The whole business with the ball-peen hammer gets to my nerves something dreadful. It reminds me of some things I’ve seen in my life and would like to un-see. That’s another key to Stephen’s work, no matter how fantastic: telling, realistic details. If the characters are believed, the setting is believed, you can tell any damn story you want, and it’ll work. Provided of course you have the writing voice for it. This is one of those stories. It’s got it all, and in not too many pages.
“Uncle.” Another real skin crawler. Disturbing.
Oh hell, enough said. I’ve already said more than I meant to say, and I still fear I might give something away. I’ve tried hard not to, and have mentioned only the things that are obvious and don’t harm the stories, but I’m getting nervous. And I don’t want me to get in the way of what matters here. This collection. Stephen’s stories. His voice. His unique talent.
You need this book. If you like anything close to horror, and also like your stories to have other elements other than just standing in the darkness with a bloody knife, you have the right book.
Enjoy.
I have no doubt you will.
—Joe R. Lansdale
March 25, 2014
Nacogdoches, Texas
FOR THE VELVET DROOGS: IT WAS A GOOD RUN
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