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Tag Archives: Dark Fiction

Not long ago I decided to order a couple of Call of Cthulhu RPG materials. I found a great copy of “Dreamlands: Roleplaying Beyond the Wall of Sleep”. This is such a great setting book for the Dreamlands!

In the introduction, Sandy Petersen and Chris Williams provide sources for where they gathered their material from. While the Lovecraft citations are, of course, required, they also mentions works by Brian Lumley, Clark Ashton Smith, and Gary Myers.

My pursuit of these lesser known books by Myers, Lumley, and Smith began.

This would be a comprehensive library of Dreamlands related material that could be referenced for any adventures you might want to run in the Dreamlands for your role playing.

The Myers book was a pleasant surprise. It is a small, hardback edition. It might even be the first edition of the book. Pendragon Fine Books of California had it for a very reasonable price.

As far as I know, the only published Savage Worlds setting that takes place in the Dreamlands is the crossover book done for Aching! Cthulhu and DUST, which is an epic adventure!

And I must once again mention the map that ties all of this together at the gaming table, the map by Jason Thompson:

Map of the Dreamlands

Thompson also mentions Gary Myers as well as Lord Dunsany.

I am super excited about one of my stories from The Other Side of Despair being featured on the latest podcast episode of Random Transmissions. This podcast is super cool and you should go and check out all the episodes!

Random Transmissions

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My story “Shockley House” was published in this year’s Halloween anthology The Yellow Booke.

Hi! If you’ve read any of my blog and my weird writings, please take the time to post a comment about your thoughts and impressions. I’d love to hear what you think!

Also, here is an interview that I just did that delves a little deeper into my artistic vision.

Interview with David Garrett

For those writers and bloggers who have steadfastly followed the last two stories I’ve posted, I would like to say thank you for reading them. After I published my collection of short stories in 2010 I decided to take some time away from writing and figure out a new direction. Finally, I decided to write a novella that was a Lovecraftian, Cthulhu Mythos story – The Scourge of Wetumpka. That took some time to write but turned out quite well. Coming off of that I began writing Psychological Horror short stories. When I use the term Psychological, I am using it in the true sense of the term as having to do with Psychology. I have a Master’s in Psychology and I really enjoy Psychological thrillers with horror or dark fantasy overtones. The first couple of stories were “Alone” and “Shockley House”. I was very pleased with “Shockley House” but wound up re-writing “Alone” in order to make it deliver the right effect. After those two stories, I began to get interested in the use of Symbolism and the techniques used in Impressionism. The last two stories, “The Land of Nod” and “The Murklor”, explore using those techniques in writing weird tales. What makes them really work on a blog is that each day (or every couple of days) a new glimpse or vignette is added to the overall impression of the piece. In “The Land of Nod” I tried to do that by adding more bits of symbolism to the canvass of the story. In “The Murklor”, I tried to do that by adding new vantage points – usually in the form of different writing techniques. Overall, I’m really liking this new direction of Impressionistic Weird Fiction. It’s fun and offers so much freedom.

BTW, I can’t take credit for inventing it. Here’s a really good interview about what I’m trying to achieve in my writing:

The Insomniac Propagandist

One final note – the ciphers in the story “The Murklor” are very much real. They aren’t just thrown together to make the story weirder than it already is. Each one was methodically designed and does have a real solution.

Here is a good article about what this blog is all about!

Storytelling

 

The cover of the first book I wrote (Intertwined in Limbo) had absolutely nothing to do with any story in the book. The firm that created the cover just used a picture that was “ghostly”. So I decided to write a poem that told her story.

Limbo

 

The White Lady

 

Little Mason Morbid was a melancholy lad

While the other kids were playing, he sat brooding, looking sad

His cloths were black and gray and his heart was a hole

And the only thing ‘twas darker than his mind was his soul

 

On the thirteenth of the month he would adjourn unto a tomb

In an old forgotten graveyard under darkness of the gloom

He’d commence to crank the handle of a tiny music player

And then the strains of Moonlight Sonata would drift upon the air

 

Somewhere from the blackness an apparition would appear

A radiant diaphanous figure who was draped in gossamer

She would float about the graves as little Mason Morbid crooned

“White Lady, white lady, tell me of your doom.”

 

“It was in the dead of winter and the snow was falling down

Like little drops of clouds to form a blanket on the ground.

The people of the village were all huddled with each other

And the young Reverend Smithe had stopped by to pray for Mother.”

 

“He sat and read his Bible and then he joined us in our meal

Then he told my worried Father how his faith would help her heal.

He was smitten by my beauty and I was taken by his charm

Before I knew what happened, he had lured me to the barn.”

 

“The passions of the flesh overcame the strictures of the mind

The reverend’s Puritan values gave way to pleasures for a time.

I was left defiled and the guilt would take its toll

Darkness and depression were like weights upon my soul.”

 

“Consumed by misery and ashamed for being so beguiled

But the real scandal was when I found that I was with child.

And all about the gossip started that descended upon me

The Reverend Smithe could not be charged, it must be sorcery.”

 

“They drug me through the village with curses that were vile,

Accused me of witchcraft and held a mockery of a trial.

And so it was, betrayed, abused and blighted in the soul,

I was made to pay the reverend’s sin on the rope of the gallows’ pole.”

 

Little Mason Morbid heaved a heavy sigh of grief

The White Lady’s tragedy was sad beyond belief

He watched her go back to her grave then he mused aloud,

“Life is futile and so unfair, and we are wrapped within her shroud.”

 

This is a story I wrote and did illustrations for about the adventures of a Voodoo doll.

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Popinjay

Dark Muse

I’ve plumbed the depths of darkest mire

Drug back hellish creatures with twisted tongues

And scrawled the words with blood and fire

That bellowed from their blackened lungs

 

Words that wiggle like a maggot or worm

Or creep and crawl on nimble spider legs

Into the mind they scurry and squirm

To spin their webs and deposit their eggs

 

Once they’ve infected they hatch and spread

And grow into creatures corrupt and vile

They taunt and haunt and spew their dread

Sleek and shadowy with bewitching guile

 

Too late to change the fate they’ve wrought

Too awed to stand against their might

Too shocked to fathom what they’ve brought

And much too scared to put up a fight

 

Their infernal words have come to blight

And by my conjuring I’m to blame

For I’m the wizard of the terrible night

Who knows each creature by its name

Time and Death

Eyes that grope the haunted cowl

And strokes the strings of a thin lined scowl

Unruly jest made with gleeful mock

And howls the strain of a ticking clock

You slinking wraith that moans and sighs

And whispers laughs through hated cries

The clunking clank of weighted toils

The clotted filth of graveyard soils

Wincing faces of Time and Death

Marked in rasps and ticking breath

Till the final knell rings loud and clear

And the death rattle echoes with every tear

Oh sweet life that has burned so bright

And flickered long with ghostly light

What sad charm we recall to sight

The melancholy affair that conjures night