The Newsletter of Writer Brian Hodge

Volume 2, Issue 1 - February 2006

Web site: http://www.brianhodge.net   E-mail: brian@brianhodge.net

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Which just goes to show that some things refuse to stay dead.

Once upon a time, long-term reader Paul Legerski launched this newsletter on my behalf, a generous and time-consuming act for which I still thank him. It went through six issues, I believe, before lapsing into hibernation for a variety of reasons.

With a number of projects newly out, on the way, or in the works, the time seems right to finally slap the cardiac paddles to it. Schedule? Irregular, perhaps, but three or four times a year sounds about right.

A couple of preliminaries:

(1) This is not intended to be spam. If you don't wish to receive future issues, simply reply with an unsubscribe request and you won't.

(2) Just how did you get on the mailing list? It could be one of many ways:

• You may have subscribed through my web site or at a book signing.
• You may be a friend, acquaintance, or simply sent a nice e-mail lately.
• You may have been on the original mailing list, which drew from too many sources to enumerate, although the most unusual of them:
• We may have engaged in an eBay transaction, and your interest was piqued from a shameless promotional signature file on my e-mail.

Not to worry: The list will never be farmed out to anyone or anything else.

TO HELL AND BACK

This past autumn, Pocket Books released my newest novel, Hellboy: On Earth As It Is In Hell. It was based on the graphic novel character created by comics legend Mike Mignola and, in 2004, brought to the movies by director Guillermo Del Toro. Not counting the odd short story here and there, this marked the first time I was invited to come play in somebody else's yard, rather than stay in my own and throw rocks at anyone else setting foot on the lawn.

Overall, it seems to be managing the tricky task of satisfying readers of my prior novels and, for the most part, Hellboy fans to whom my byline doesn't mean a thing . although there's just no pleasing everybody. My favorite malcontent was the "reviewer" on Amazon whose leadoff complaint was that the book didn't have any drawings by Mike Mignola.

To which I answer: Well, no. No, it doesn't. But you know what it does come with? Mike's blessing. So grok on that, ya dur-hur.*

*dur-hur (noun). Pejorative slang for a person, nearly always male, suspected of sub-normal intelligence and a tendency to laugh in three syllables, i.e., "dur-hur-hur." Coined by my senior year college roommate, Dave.

THE ACCIDENTAL NOVEL

In the pre-dawn hours of January 6, I turned in a just-completed manuscript called World Of Hurt to Paul Miller of Earthling Publications. Months earlier, when wrangling the contractual particulars, we'd agreed on something in the 30,000-word zone. But then it got all juiced on steroids and bulked up to a far more muscular 50,000 words.

So. What we have now edges into the lower reaches of full novel territory. Lean, yes. Taut, yes. But you'd be sore amazed at how much it packs in. Upping the page count will be a foreword by renowned editor Stephen Jones and an introduction by esteemed writer Brian Keene. Plus an afterword in which I defend myself against their libelous accusations.

Although it stands entirely on its own, with an all-new roster of characters, World Of Hurt nevertheless plugs into a story cycle that began with the novelettes I wrote for Poppy Z. Brite's two Love In Vein anthologies, and more recently continued with the novelette I did for David Barnett's feel-good anthology of 2004, Damned.

Publication is set for late July or early August. In the meantime, I'll be preparing for one of those weird little promotional experiments that the Web makes so insanely easy: sculpting and recording an impressionist soundscape inspired by the novel, to be made available for download close to publication time.

We'll also be posting the opening section for your discerning eye, thereby utilizing the same marketing principle adopted by all the more forward-thinking crack dealers: The first taste is free.

AT LONG LAST . UNLEASH THE HOUNDS

There once was a time when I was about ready to concede that Mad Dogs, my next crime novel after Wild Horses, was cursed. One-eyed-Gypsy, screaming-witch-doctor, hoodoo-lady-done-wrong cursed. But there's no need to get into the particulars of all that now. As the father of the groom declares in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, "This is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who!"

And so, buzzing from a heady cocktail of enthusiasm and end-of-marathon relief, I'm pleased to announce that Cemetery Dance Publications has happily snapped it up on first reading. Publication date to come later.

Actually, I've been sitting on this news for a while. CD chieftain Rich Chizmar originally thought he would have announced it by now, but he's been timing such things with their publication schedule, and that's been in flux recently with a Stephen King project or two that have apparently gone into overtime. After a couple delays, Rich absolved me of my promise to let him break the news.

So you learn it here first: We got Dogs!

And, to once more tap Python, there was much rejoicing.

OTHER THINGS TO CLEAR BOOKSHELF SPACE FOR

Because, really now, do they all have to have their own headlines?

Prototype v.2.0. Delirium Books' reissue of my final novel from the Dell Abyss era is on track for October. After recovering the original files (Mac OS 6!) from a floppy disk on its last wheezing breath, I took the opportunity to give it a substantial polish. Not that anything different happens. Think of it as a remastered edition: same classic release, much better sound. With the addition of an introduction by John Shirley, which jazzes me no end. The man was staking out Clive Barker territory before anyone had ever heard of Clive Barker, and was pretty much the first cyberpunk, to boot.

Cover art will come from Mike Bohatch, who also did the cover for Delirium's 2005 reissue of Deathgrip. Given all the decayed industrial themes in his online gallery, I can't think of anyone more perfect for Prototype.

A Loving Look Of Agony. Hmm, when was it that Lies & Ugliness came out? Way back in 2002? In that case, looks like it's time to put together another story collection. That's number four on the scorecards, and should be turned in by late winter or mid-spring, once the new pieces are done. Again, Cemetery Dance Publications will be the imprint on the spine.

Q-and-A TORTURE TEST

You ask, I answer. Or evade.

Q: How did you end up landing a gig to write a Hellboy novel?

A: A few months after the movie came out, Mike Mignola licensed four novels to Pocket Books/Simon & Schuster. Which meant they needed somebody to come up with them. For quite a while I've been acquainted with Mike's longtime associate, Christopher Golden, who is overseeing the entire thing, as well as doing the fourth novel in this quartet. A few years back, Chris invited me to contribute to the original Odd Jobs anthology of HB short stories that he edited for Dark Horse Comics. I wrote a story inspired by Beowulf, and it turned out to be one of Mike's all-time favorites. So when he licensed these new novels to Pocket, I was on the shortlist of people he was interested in asking to write one.

The next one, Unnatural Selection, should be out in late March, and was done by Tim Lebbon, another writer I hold in high regard.

Q: Did they give free run of the Hellboy universe, or did Mike Mignola or the publisher impose any requirements or restrictions?

A: There were very little of that, and nothing at all from Pocket. Overall, it had to be set in the graphic novels' world, not the slightly different movie version of it, or a hybrid of two. Mike's main priority was not wanting the novels to seem cartoonish. Instead, he was interested in dark, moody, subtler work. Beyond that, the only stipulation upfront was that these new books be set between the first and second graphic novels: a period of about three years in the mid-'90s. That automatically imposed a few limitations. I couldn't use the character Roger, for instance, since he wasn't around yet.

The only other matter emerged during the synopsis stage, when I outlined something that turned out to be too similar to what Mike was working on for his next major story arc. The workaround that he and Chris and I came up with turned out better in context, I think, than the original idea. But that was about all. Mike extended as much leeway as possible, and I tried to honor that with something that would do us both proud.

Q: Will you be writing more of these kinds of tie-ins in the future?

A: I'm not actively seeking them out. This was more of a one-off, although if something came up where I really connected with the source material, then sure, I'd consider it.

Q: Are you planning on ever doing a blog?

A: The phrase "Not even at gunpoint" comes to mind, but that's so risky . like those scenes in movies where somebody in unpleasant circumstances toots off that optimistic chestnut: "It could be worse. It could be raining." And you know what happens next.

Some people raise blogs to an art form. Long, beautifully structured, thoughtfully composed essays that leave a reader wondering how the blogger can possibly get anything else done during the day. Sometimes it's obvious they don't - they'll spend an entire blog complaining about it.

Other people draw readers in with endless drama and feuds. Unfortunately, as though one who has taken a cue from "Desiderata," I usually go placidly amid the noise and haste. Except maybe during happy hour, when all bets are off.

For now, it's challenge enough to find the time to get to everything that's already on the daily desk calendar - this year, The Far Side's "Mating Rituals" collection. Sorry. But look on the bright side: It could be worse. It could be raining.

Q: Whatever happened to Mad Dogs? You said months ago that some kind of announcement was coming soon.

A: Weren't you paying attention above?

NOT TO GO OUT ON A DOWN NOTE, BUT.

One morning during the last week of November, I made one of my usual passes by Shocklines, my only habitual bulletin board, and got an armor-plated punch in the heart. From a post by an equally heart-stricken Gary Braunbeck, I learned that, a few days earlier, lung cancer had claimed the life of singer/songwriter/guitarist Chris Whitley.

The name may not mean much to you . he didn't have the profile of, say, a David Bowie . but while he may be gone much too soon, at age 45, his work is still there to be discovered. For the uninitiated, if you drop by his web site and check the Downloads section, you may be able to sample without risk. A number of concerts and rare tracks have been sporadically available there, disappearing and reappearing again.

I mention his death here because I'm one of those writers tremendously influenced by music, and there was no such greater influence on my novel Wild Horses than Chris Whitley's 1991 debut album, Living With The Law. The entire CD felt like a soundtrack to the novel. During the writing of it, I actually did compile a more varied soundtrack tape that helped me remain deeper inside the world of the novel; a couple of songs from LWTL went on it, including the title track, whose earthy yet epic sweep seemed to make a letter-perfect opening theme for the movie I was seeing in my mind.

I'm especially glad now that I had the opportunity to tell him so.

It came one early April afternoon, a frozen day of heavy, constant snow . two months after we'd moved from Illinois to Boulder, one month after Wild Horses sold at auction for a very nice sum that pretty much saved my life at the time. Chris Whitley was booked to play at a theater across town, along the edge of the University of Colorado campus. We already had tickets, but then I learned that a few hours before the concert, he was also going to be playing a few songs in a basement record store across the street.

Just him and his National steel guitar and his voice - that's all he ever needed, really, to bring the magic. Like most creatively restless people, he ventured in several directions, and I can't say that I've liked them all equally. For me, he was never better than when things were stripped down to these essentials, or when he was otherwise mining the passionate, sweat-soaked roots of American folk-blues traditions, and still managing to put his unique stamp upon them.

After he finished playing, it was no problem to hand him my copy of Living With The Law to have it signed. It's not often we get a chance to tell someone just how much their work has meant to us, done for us, and why, but that day provided one.

It's risky, too, briefly meeting someone whose work you've admired for years, but in Chris Whitley I found someone who seemed to not only have no trace whatsoever of ego or attitude, but who was endearingly, maybe even painfully, shy. Doli told me later that as we talked, it was interesting to watch because of the gulf between our abilities. I enjoy dabbling in music (a fact that I spared him), but can't conceive of writing songs like his. He told me he couldn't begin to imagine writing a novel.

That's okay. He helped me find one anyway.

END