William Harms

I “met” Scott Nicholson a few months back via MySpace. I sent him copies of Impaler, and he sent me a copy They Hunger, his most recent novel. Pretty good arrangement, if you ask me.

Set in the Southern Appalachian Mountains, They Hunger offers a pretty unique spin on the vampire mythos. More animal than human, the vampires in They Hunger are giant, bat-like creatures that are freed from their underground lair when a bomb blasts a hole in the side of a rocky hill. Nicholson resists the urge to define the vampires with lengthy explanations, instead opting to provide details with subtlety. For example, there’s a scene where a character is having his blood drained, and he’s in a stupor, which implies that there is something in the vampire’s saliva that sedates the victim, calming them and making them a more pliable.

The characters that populate the book run the gambit from empathetic to downright despicable. (Interestingly, one of the primary characters is a guy named Ace Goodall, an anti-abortion nutjob who’s on the run because he blew up several abortion clinics.) Nicholson has a natural way of peering into a character’s thoughts without delving into the goofiness that sometimes permeates Stephen King’s more recent work.
I also enjoyed the fact that the people in the book are who they are. Despite the fact that they face near-constant attacks by the vampires, none of them pull a 180 and become a “hero”. They’re looking out for themselves, and no one else really matters. That decision may turn off some readers, but I appreciated it.

The ending of They Hunger definitely leaves open the possibility of a sequel, and if Nicholson decides to revisit the story, I hope the stage is expanded to a larger scale. But as it stands, They Hunger is a taut, well-written vampire novel.

Check out Scott Nicholson’s site: Haunted Computer.

The trailer for Space Siege has been posted on Game Trailers. Check it out.

Cindy and I went and saw the Halloween remake last week. On the way out, I asked Cindy what she thought, and she said: “Why does it [Zombie’s movies] always have to be so sleazy?”

Why indeed.

The first half of the movie could’ve (and should’ve) been cut. Seeing the creation of a monster isn’t scary, it just weakens the power of the monster. And when we see Michael’s world populated by scumbags and bullies (and the stripper with a heart of gold), it turns into one big cliche. If you’re going to show Michael’s “origin”, at least make it scary. A kid that gets picked on and lives in a cesspool isn’t scary. A kid that comes from a normal, middle-class family has some potential. At least that kid is expected to grow up, go to college, etc. The idea that their kid could turn into a raging murderer could’ve resonated with a lot of parents.

That said, once Michael escapes and goes on his rampage, the movie becomes pretty decent. There are a couple massive lapses in logic, and the ending is kind of crap, but there are also some truly chilling scenes. I just wish that there had been more of those.

I took a couple days off from work and spent one of them going through my files. And I found some really cool stuff.

• A hand-written, two page letter from Chris Bachalo. On the back is a drawing of Shade
• A picture of Spider-man (and letter) signed by Todd McFarlane
• A picture of Delirium by Jill Thompson
• Letter from Marc Hansen with a kick-ass picture of Weird Melvin

And so many rejection letters. I have two from the late Archie Goodwin (complete with a scribbled personal note and his signature), from a variety of magazines and other comic book editors. My favorite, though, is a rejection from Vertigo Executive Editor Karen Berger. When DC relaunched Dr. Fate in 1988, I read the first issue, decided I hated it, and wrote up a detailed proposal and sent it off. Basically, it was five pages of how I’d revamp the character.

A few months passed, and then one day I get this awesome-looking envelope from DC. Was this my big break? Nope, it was a letter from Karen saying that she wasn’t looking for anyone else to write the book. The reason it’s my favorite is because she actually wrote a full letter, telling me about their new talent program, how new writers don’t start off right away on a monthly book. For an 18-year old high school kid, it was like getting a glimpse of writing nirvana. I sent off a letter to Joe Orlando (who was in charge of DC’s new talent program), and never heard a peep. Still, it’s amazing how a few words of encouragement, intended or not, can impact someone just starting out.