A recent study by science showed that one in five autumn enthusiasts will experience Halloween burnout at some point in their lifetime. Halloween burnout is a newly discovered condition that affects those who place unrealistic expectations on themselves during the spooky season, which for many begins on July 5th and ends on November 1st. Symptoms include fatigue, nausea, questioning how Michael Myers can drive, watching the Garfield Halloween Special until it loses all meaning, and more fatigue.
In all (relative) seriousness, Halloween burnout is real and it’s running rampant. The season starts earlier each year. This past June, I found a rubber bat in Michael’s. June, people. And with an ever-expanding season, come infinite ways to celebrate, whether it’s binge watching your favorite horror movies until your eyes bleed or binge eating pumpkin spice everything until…your eyes bleed. Social media’s no help. Sure, it’s a way to feel connected to your Halloween-loving peers but it also creates undue stress. You scroll through your timeline/feed/whatever and it’s all Halloween all the time. It makes you want to keep up, to never waste one precious moment on something like sleeping or brushing your teeth.
So the question remains: how can you ensure your Halloween season is as Halloweenish as possible?
The answer is simple: you don’t have to.
That’s where the Halloween Randomizer 5000.1 (patent pending) comes into play. Stay with me here. The idea is you jot down whatever Halloween activities that come to mind onto tiny slips of paper. Make sure you write legibly because you’ll need to read these later. If that’s a challenge for you, here’s hoping you can draw at a stick-figure level. Next, fold said slips and place them into a receptacle of some sort. The Randomizer can be made from whatever you’ve got handy. Mine’s a snot-green pumpkin pail mummified in orange lights. I like to add a Pumpkinhead action figure or two because that’s what I do.
After you’ve assembled your Randomizer, now it’s time to let chance step up to the podium. Shake it. Do it again, just to be sure. Maybe a third time because it kind of sounds like a maraca. Now close your eyes, reach into the Randomizer, and pull out a single strip of paper. Whatever’s written on it, that’s what you’re doing today. Could be movie marathon or maybe you’re baking an apple pie or if you’re not talented in the kitchen, go out and buy one. A pie, not a kitchen, unless you’re looking to remodel. No activity is too outlandish or low key. Heck, once the leaves turn, you could go for a walk through a cemetery and call it a day. That’s the magic of the season. Halloween’s in the very air we breathe. It smells like candy corn and candy applies and candy everything else. It smells like possibilities. Sure, the season flies by. And yeah, come November 1st, you’ll be staring into the void, but you can greatly decrease your chances of FOMO if you drop the pressure and unrealistic expectations and just have fun.
So this year, give yourself a break. It’s time to construct your very own Halloween Randomizer 5000.1 with whatever’s within reaching distance. A shoebox? Sure thing. A coffee mug? Why not? A real pumpkin? You bet, though I hope you enjoy mold. As long as you’re doing something—anything—to get into the Halloween spirit, that’s all that matters. No more pressure. No more stress. Save that for your costume. Will you wear a cape? A mask? If so, what kind of material? There’s latex and plastic and—I’ve just had the greatest idea for an invention. It’s called the Halloween Costume Randomizer 5000.1. Stay with me here.
Boo-graphy: Patrick Lacey was born and raised in a haunted house. He currently spends his time writing about things that make the general public uncomfortable. He lives in Massachusetts, in a hopefully un-haunted house, with his wife, his daughter, and his ginormous cat. Follow him on Twitter.
Sleep Paralysis: A Collection Sleep paralysis: A transitional state between wakefulness and sleep, accompanied by powerful hallucinations and muscle weakness, preventing one from moving.
A website that specializes in suffering. A basement filled with secrets and bones. An apartment housing much more than just ghosts. These are the places between reality and the unknown. These are the stories that stay with you long after you’ve read them. These are the things that visit your dreams. And nightmares.
Meghan: Hey, Patrick!! Welcome back. What is your favorite part of Halloween?
Patrick: Pumpkin beer. And pumpkin coffee. And also pumpkin English muffins. My favorite part of Halloween is all of it. It’s that you can walk into any grocery store or pharmacy and find at least one discount skeleton mask that’s probably painted with poisonous chemicals or one plastic rubber bat that’s probably…painted with poisonous chemicals. It’s that the entire world seems to be on my wavelength, which, lemme tell you, is quite often not the case.
Meghan: What is your favorite Halloween tradition?
Patrick: May I make this a two-for-the-price-of-one answer? If so, super! If not, this is awkward. I grew up in a horror household. My parents dug the genre and, lucky for me, they didn’t much care what I watched, R ratings be damned. So what we’d do is we’d go trick-or-treating but once the eggs started cracking and the tee-pee started rolling, we came back home and watched horror movies like they were going out of style. The real stars of the show were the snacks. I’m talking junk food like you’ve never seen. My mom persuaded me to eat relatively (insert air quotes here) healthy but on Halloween night, all dietary bets were off. We’re talking nachos, pizza rolls, and deviled eggs (emphasis on the devil). We’d shove snack after snack into our mouths until our bellies inflated and what’s better than that? What’s better than spending quality family time watching Kevin Bacon get his throat pierced with the sharp end of an arrow or Johnny Depp get swallowed by a bloody bed, all while eating things with more artificial ingredients than a can of paint thinner? Answer: nothing. It was during one of those marathons that I leaned over a lit pumpkin-scented candle and managed to catch my bangs on fire. I snuffed the flames out quick enough but have you ever smelled burnt hair? It’s a lot stronger than anything Yankee Candle carries. I surveyed myself in the mirror and yeah, there would need to be an emergency hair cut before returning to school, but you know what? Who cared? Burning bangs or no burning bangs, that night there were no problems. There were only slashers and junk food and is there anything else? To this day, if by some strange circumstance, I catch a whiff of charred hair, it zaps me back to that living room, to those snacks, to that wonderful night.
Which brings us to part two of this question, the newer tradition of carving a jack-o-lanterns with my wife and daughter. With my wife, we’ve been doing this since day one of us, but with my daughter, we’re coming up on Halloween II (the holiday, not the movie), so it’s about as new as new gets. Last year, I don’t think she was cognizant enough to understand why her parents were wielding chef’s knives and gouging large orange apples but this year—this year, all bets are off. She’s got about five non-mom and non-dad words in her vocabulary, one of which happens to be “pumpkin.” Really, it’s more like “pum pum” but she’ll get there. Any flash of orange, she lights up like a Halloween blow mold, so I’m thinking the carving will be one for the books this year. The best part is I’ve tried not to push the seasonal addiction on her, but the moment she saw her first Beistle cut-out, she smirked ear to ear. I think it’s been passed down to her, this addiction that comes from who knows where. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Meghan: If Halloween is your favorite holiday (or even second favorite holiday), why?
Patrick: Two words: spooky walks. There is nothing—I repeat—nothing better than taking a stroll around your neighborhood, town, city—whatever—once the leaves start to turn. What other time of year can you see gravestones and animatronic gargoyles in someone’s front yard? And that’s just one house, if you’re lucky. I adore pulling on a sweatshirt and grabbing a pumpkin beer and then hiding that pumpkin beer in a non-descript thermos so as to avoid being arrested, then going for a seasonal stroll. I always end up in a neck of the woods I never even knew existed. This one time, a few years back, I traversed a side street wherein every single front porch was decked out in Halloween bliss, but here’s the kicker: I could never find that street again, no matter how many times I searched, which begs the question: did I accidentally cross over into a parallel dimension or did I have a few too many of those non-descript pumpkin beers? Probably it’s the latter but a man can dream.
Meghan: What are you superstitious about?
Patrick: Everything. But there’s this one thing in particular. It’s maybe more innocuous than walking under a latter or spotting a black cat (which doesn’t bother me, seeing as how I’ve owned two or five). What it is, is the number thirteen, specifically how that number appears on my Kindle. I mostly read ebooks on account of my glasses are trifocals and the font’s easily adjustable. If I’m reading and arrive at the 13% mark, I’ve gotta keep going, if only to reach 14%, because if I stay at that cursed number, something insane will happen. Dead birds will fall from the sky. Every tree within a five-mile radius of my house will shrivel and rot. And the sun itself will burn out, dowsing the world in a never-ending cycle of darkness.
Meghan: What/who is your favorite horror monster or villain?
Patrick: Freddy Krueger, full stop. Here’s the thing. Freddy’s the reason I’m a horror fan. Like I mentioned before: my parents didn’t give a darn what I watched, for better and worse (mostly better). Because of this lack of parental advisory, one of the first movies I remember watching is A Nightmare on Elm Street. And let me tell you: it did a number on me. I had actual nightmares for days, maybe weeks, on end. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that glove and that fedora. So I watched it again. And again. Then I watched the sequels. And my revulsion turned to fascination. I loved the sense of nightmare logic. Because we’re dealing in dreams, the rules are less rigid and more fluid. Doors don’t lead where they ought too. Steps are made from oatmeal for some reason. And is that a goat over there? Yes, that’s definitely a goat.
Meghan: Which unsolved murder fascinates you the most?
Patrick: The Zodiac Killer has long been a morbid fascination of mine and I think it has to do with reading too many Batman comics, specifically those with the Riddler and how he always left clues and if you could just decipher them, you could stop him from performing whatever villainy was on his mind. But the difference is that Batman always solved said puzzles and real life isn’t so squeaky clean. I’m not exactly writing my thesis on the Zodiac but from what I’ve read, part of me wonders if the puzzles were intentionally unsolvable. He promised answers in there somewhere, all jumbled up, but maybe there never were answers.
Meghan: Which urban legend scares you the most?
Patrick: I’m from a small fishing town named Gloucester. It’s on the north shore of Massachusetts. And in my small fishing town, there was this tale making the rounds when I was a freshman, sophomore, somewhere around there. People swore there was a group of kids that called themselves the Gloucester Vampires. They congregated in abandoned buildings and under bridges late at night, when the town slept, and they did unspeakable things, performed rituals from texts so evil, reading a single page could make your mind burst like an over-ripe cantaloupe. Or so they said. Probably, it was a bunch of kids who wore black and were in the thick of their Hot Topic phase. But to my over-active mind, there was a cult in my small fishing town, a cult searching for new members. Once they chose you, there was no canceling your membership. I was so perturbed by this (probably) imaginary cult, I wrote a novel about it. It’s called We Came Back. It’s about to go out of print as of this writing but it’ll rise from the depths in a new edition soon enough.
Meghan: Who is your favorite serial killer and why?
Patrick: Care for a deep cut, so to speak? My wife’s family has a vacation home in Cape Cod. We got there twice, maybe thrice times a year, and in the neighboring town of Truro, there was once a serial killer who went by the name Tony Chop Chop, which, as far as serial killer names go, has got to be up there. The killings had a slight ritualistic bend, insofar that the hearts were removed from the victims. The case never gained the popularity that other killers of the time did, but Kurt Vonnegut wrote an article about Mr. Chop Chop in Life Magazine of all places, so the situation didn’t exactly go unnoticed. I’ve traveled to one of the supposed murder locations—a crypt long since busted open and cleared out—and you can’t deny the dread. It sticks to you like Laffy Taffy. In reality, serial killer culture deeply disturbs me, so much so that I wrote a novel (Where Stars Won’t Shine) to get it out of my system. And while I’m not exactly going to start a Tony Chop Chop blog, I do find the case fascinating.
Meghan: How old were you when you saw your first horror movie? How old were you when you read your first horror book?
Patrick: I’ll echo my earlier answer here. It was A Nightmare Elm Street, which I saw at the ripe age of way too young. But I’m not complaining. Thanks again, Mom and Dad. For horror books, it’s got to be Stephen King‘s Skeleton Crew but that only counts on a technicality. See, my mother had an dog-eared, spine-creased copy on her bookshelf. The one with that wide-eyed monkey and the cymbals. I’d pull it down, half-cover my eyes so said monkey couldn’t stare into my soul, and flip to a page at random. I loved what I read but I couldn’t read for long because I knew the book was alive, that it had teeth in some secret compartment, so it was better to place it back on the shelf where I found it. Years later, I’d give it a proper read and it would become a favorite. I still have my mom’s copy. Thus far, I haven’t seen those teeth. Maybe they just haven’t come in yet.
Meghan: Which horror novel unsettled you the most?
Patrick: It’s gotta be The Grip of It by Jac Jemc. I don’t see this one getting as much love as it rightfully deserves. It’s a haunted house novel, which is probably my favorite sub-genre, seeing as how I grew up in one (a story for another time). The horror that makes me all shivery is when bad stuff isn’t easily definable. Masked killers are fun but you can see a masked killer. What you can’t see are invisible forces working to unravel our minds one cold spot at a time. That’s what The Grip of It is. It’s a series of inexplicable scenes with no clear-cut answers. We, as readers, aren’t even sure if the house is haunted. And if it is, we can’t begin to theorize what’s haunting it. I don’t like it when authors tie things up in bow. I much prefer when horror is kept vague and it doesn’t get vaguer than The Grip of It.
Meghan: Which horror movie scarred you for life?
Patrick: Stick with me here. There’s this one scene in The Mothman Prophecies that’s always on repeat in my brain. It’s when Richard Gere is washing his face in the bathroom sink, huddled over the faucet. We see the mirror and in that mirror is a shape standing just behind Richard. The problem with that shape is you can’t see its face. It’s like a smear on the lens that became sentient. And I have this thing with smooth faces. The concept of person with no eyes, ears, mouth, just smooth flesh—heck no. So while The Mothman Prophecies isn’t exactly known a walk-don’t-run flick, that scene is burrowed beneath my skin. Even today, when I’m washing my face, I know he’s there in the mirror. Mothman’s there and this time my eyes are the camera.
Meghan: What is your favorite Halloween costume?
Patrick: My favorite Halloween was when I dressed up as a zombie this one time in eighth grade, which in and of itself doesn’t demand bragging rights, but I wasn’t just any rotting corpse. I was fourteen and it was the early 2000’s. Nu metal was having a moment. The most infamous practitioners? Limp Bizkit. And since I was a super fan, I dressed as the lead singer. Let me say that again: one time, two decades ago, I walked around dressed as a dead Fred Durst and asked strangers for candy.
Meghan: What is your favorite Halloween-themed song?
Patrick: Gonna cheat here and choose the original Halloween theme, composed by Mr. ball-of-sunshine himself, John Carpenter. Sure it’s not a Halloween-themed song but it’s a song in a film called Halloween. Take that, semantics. The thing with this theme is it makes anything sinister and brooding. Break it out at a party, and it’ll set the mood with those dueling notes and that odd time signature (I wanna say it’s 5/4 but my math could be wrong). But why limit yourself? Crank it while you’re washing the dishes. You’ll be surprised by the results. On their own, dishes are boring. But with John Carpenter in tow, suddenly that chef’s knife takes on a whole new meaning. It’s great for long drives, too, especially on a cool fall night when the trees are bare and the fallen leaves scuttle in the wind. And make sure you keep those high beams on because you know Michael’s out there. He’s always out there.
Meghan: What is your favorite Halloween candy or treat? What is your most disappointing?
Patrick: My favorite Halloween candy is candy corn and the most disappointing is also candy corn. Hear me out. I love the OG kind. And yes, I understand it tastes like melted candle wax mixed with high fructose corn syrup but don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. And if you have tried it, and you still hate it, then it’s okay to be wrong sometimes. Which brings us to the disappointment. It’s like I said: I love the original candy corn, but these weird new flavors? These fruity-flavored knock-offs? These caramel-flavored monstrosities? Not on my watch. There’s something so pure about candy corn and to mess with perfection only ruins the allure. So give me some CC all day long but make sure it’s the kind that’s been on sale since the seventies and is probably from the same batch.
Meghan: I just can’t imagine Halloween without you, Patrick, and some of these answers made me laugh out loud. Thanks for stopping by!! We’ll have to make plans for next year as well. But before you go, what are your top three Halloween movies?
Patrick: Hack-O-Lantern If you haven’t seen Hack-O-Lantern, stop reading this and go see Hack-O-Lantern. This thing is dripping with vintage Halloween goodness. You could make a drinking game wherein you pause and take a shot every time a retro seasonal decoration pops up in the background. Though, on second thought, don’t do that because I refuse to be held accountable. Also, it’s got heavy metal and satanic panic vibes, the chocolate and peanut butter of horror. If robed cultists, devil-masked killers, and incessant music video dream sequences are your thing (and they really should be), look no further.
Night of the Demons Just the perfect movie to throw on for the big night. It’s got a spooky mansion, excellent demonic make-up effects from legend Steve Johnson, and a fantastic wraparound story in which a grumpy old man gets what’s coming to him. Director Kevin Tenney is on record saying he wasn’t even a horror fan when he came aboard the film. Could’ve fooled me. I watch it every October. And also every November and December.
Trick or Treat Note the “or” as in not Trick ‘r Treat. This is another heavy metal horror flick and if you’re sensing a pattern, it’s because I’m a life-long metal head and horror head (which I’ve never seen in print and will most certainly not Google). In a nutshell, a high schooler’s favorite metal musician dies and inhabits our protagonist to then help him exact revenge against his bullies. Bad things ensue. Like the other two films, this thing is just begging to be watched on a cool autumn night in the presence of a pumpkin-scented candle. Unfortunately, because of legal issues with the heavy-metal-tinged soundtrack, this one can be difficult to track down. The DVD’s out of print and there’s no American Blu-ray, though there is a Spanish one with an English version of the film. What I’m saying is, it might take some effort to track down, but the pay-off’s worth it a thousand-fold.
Boo-graphy: Patrick Lacey was born and raised in a haunted house. He currently spends his time writing about things that make the general public uncomfortable. He lives in Massachusetts, in a hopefully un-haunted house, with his wife, his daughter, and his ginormous cat. Follow him on Twitter.
Sleep Paralysis: A Collection Sleep paralysis: A transitional state between wakefulness and sleep, accompanied by powerful hallucinations and muscle weakness, preventing one from moving.
A website that specializes in suffering. A basement filled with secrets and bones. An apartment housing much more than just ghosts. These are the places between reality and the unknown. These are the stories that stay with you long after you’ve read them. These are the things that visit your dreams. And nightmares.
In the murky London gloom, a knife-wielding gentleman named Jack prowls the midnight streets with his faithful watchdog Snuff – gathering together the grisly ingredients they will need for an upcoming ancient and unearthly rite. For soon after the death of the moon, black magic will summon the Elder Gods back into the world. And all manner of Players, both human and undead, are preparing to participate.
Some have come to open the gates. Some have come to slam them shut.
And now the dread night approaches – so let the Game begin.
Author: Roger Zelazny Illustrator: Gahan Wilson Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Gaslamp Publisher: Avon Books Publication Date: September 1, 1994 Pages: 280
October 29th
Jack tries to convince Jill to switch sides in the game, but she is determined to play it out the way she started, despite now having conflicting emotions about it all. They have tea anyway, all cozy and domestic, which unnerves Snuff.
Snuff takes a walk and makes a trip to the burned out ruin of the Good Doctor’s place to check if there is any trace of the man. He finds no burned bodies but, in the barn, finds the smell of the Big Man, and also discovers a sleeping bat, Cheeter, the Count’s familiar. It is intimated that the Count may not be as dead as first thought, and that they are still in the game. The bat and Snuff share information, but are disturbed by the arrival of the mad Vicar with a crossbow.
Snuff is in serious trouble, and despite the fluttering help of the bat it seems like the Vicar has him dead in his sights… until ‘Linda Enderby’ arrives, Snuff does his ‘I’m just a big daft dog’ act, and the Vicar is persuaded to leave.
‘Linda Enderby’ isn’t so easily fooled though. Revealing ‘herself’ as the Great Detective, Holmes makes it known he knows approximately what Snuff is, knows about the game, and is determined to try to save the Vicar’s niece from being sacrificed on the big night.
Snuff tries to tell him about Larry Talbot’s similar plan, but Holmes doesn’t trust the beast in Talbot, believing it will be too strong to allow Talbot to be rational on the night. Holmes asks Snuff to show him where the ritual will take place.
Snuff agrees.
So another alliance has been made. Holmes ‘feels’ like he should be a closer but there’s a streak of rebellion in the character that might yet show through. The pieces have almost finished being moved about now, and we’re approaching the endgame fast, with still no clue as to who might win, and still with more than a few wild cards determined to disrupt things.
Hang on to your hats, it’s almost showtime.
Boo-graphy: William Meikle is a Scottish writer, now living in Canada, with more than thirty novels published in the genre press and over 300 short story credits in thirteen countries.
He has books available from a variety of publishers including Dark Regions Press, Crossroad Press and Severed Press, and his work has appeared in a number of professional anthologies and magazines.
He lives in Newfoundland with whales, bald eagles and icebergs for company.
When he’s not writing he drinks beer, plays guitar, and dreams of fortune and glory.
The Green & the Black — A small group of industrial archaeologists head into the center of Newfoundland, investigating a rumor of a lost prospecting team of Irish miners in the late Nineteenth century.
They find the remains of a mining operation, and a journal and papers detailing the extent of the miners’ activities. But there is something else on the site, something older than the miners, as old as the rock itself.
Soon the archaeologists are coming under assault, from a strange infection that spreads like wildfire through mind and body, one that doctors seem powerless to define let alone control.
The survivors only have one option. They must return to the mine, and face what waits for them, down in the deep dark places, where the green meets the black.
In the murky London gloom, a knife-wielding gentleman named Jack prowls the midnight streets with his faithful watchdog Snuff – gathering together the grisly ingredients they will need for an upcoming ancient and unearthly rite. For soon after the death of the moon, black magic will summon the Elder Gods back into the world. And all manner of Players, both human and undead, are preparing to participate.
Some have come to open the gates. Some have come to slam them shut.
And now the dread night approaches – so let the Game begin.
Author: Roger Zelazny Illustrator: Gahan Wilson Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Gaslamp Publisher: Avon Books Publication Date: September 1, 1994 Pages: 280
October 28th
Snuff’s calculations are done. The central point is the same hill and tumbled old stones where he and Graymalk were transported to the Dreamworld. Not exactly a surprise, but it appears Snuff is the first of the calculators to figure it out.
He has a long talk with Bobo which serves as some more exposition about the nature of the game, discovering that Bobo has been paying more attention than most of the actual familiars. The game is ancient, and is indeed a battle to open, or close, the way for the coming of the Old Gods of Chaos. We also hear of a legend, of a wild man and his dog who are always there at the end.
At the end of the day Jack and Snuff reminisce about previous games they have played.
Just how old are Jack and Snuff? And how many games have they played. There was a mention sneaked in of Cain and Abel. Is that Jack’s curse? Is he the original murderer, cursed forever to weild a blade? Or have I just watched too many episodes of Supernatural? There was another allusion to a man on a hill and a last supper. is there a Judas lurking somewhere?
Whatever the case, this chapter was a short one, just to remind us of players and stakes and bring us back to the point of it all before the climax. But Snuff has made a pledge to stay friends with Graymalk whatever happens, and I suspect nothing will ever break his bond with Jack.
Three days to go, and all to play for.
Boo-graphy: William Meikle is a Scottish writer, now living in Canada, with more than thirty novels published in the genre press and over 300 short story credits in thirteen countries.
He has books available from a variety of publishers including Dark Regions Press, Crossroad Press and Severed Press, and his work has appeared in a number of professional anthologies and magazines.
He lives in Newfoundland with whales, bald eagles and icebergs for company.
When he’s not writing he drinks beer, plays guitar, and dreams of fortune and glory.
The Green & the Black — A small group of industrial archaeologists head into the center of Newfoundland, investigating a rumor of a lost prospecting team of Irish miners in the late Nineteenth century.
They find the remains of a mining operation, and a journal and papers detailing the extent of the miners’ activities. But there is something else on the site, something older than the miners, as old as the rock itself.
Soon the archaeologists are coming under assault, from a strange infection that spreads like wildfire through mind and body, one that doctors seem powerless to define let alone control.
The survivors only have one option. They must return to the mine, and face what waits for them, down in the deep dark places, where the green meets the black.
A List of Films to Watch Around Halloween, None of Which are HALLOWEEN
How about that lame ass title?
It’s that time of year again, Boils & Ghouls. I was asked by Meghan to contribute to her yearly holiday blog series, and as usual I said yes and then flaked until literally the day before a piece is due. The grandest intention being to craft a fresh story or autobiographical sliver as I have in past years.
But, see, I think my brain is broken. Plague World and working retail have done it in. Focusing is hard and holding a captured thought is akin to catching tadpoles. So in true cop out fashion I give you this list of movies I love to watch this time of year that may or may not have anything to do with the holiday…okay, a couple of them do.
Ready? Here we go, in no rank or order…
Burnt Offerings. This amazingly gothic film concerns the account of a family whom rent an old mansion in the middle of nowhere only to discover it is not, exactly as promised. Lured by the unreal low cost, the trio learn about desires dark and hungry, about aspirations realized and locked away and never have framed old pictures of people not smiling ever been creepier. Based on the equally superb novel by Robert Marasco.
Dark Night Of The Scarecrow. A Made-For-TV movie that debuted on CBS in 1981. Starred the late Larry Drake as Bubba, a mentally retarded young man who falls victim to violence and prejudices in his tiny farm town…you think. But when the true reason behind his murder begins to show through “Vigilante” posse-runner, Otis Hazelrigg’s cracks (And my God, is it dark and icky for television) you find out it run much deeper. A fantastic cast and wonderfully creepy atmosphere have turned this into a cult favorite. Directed by Frank De Felitta.
Something Wicked This Way Comes. There is nothing that tastes more like October than this novel from the master. A deeply affecting coming-of-age tale about a town haunted. The haunts here are regret and disappointment. Are aging and absenteeism. Are wishes and I mean, we all know how long and hard a wish can clank about in the darkness. Two boys eager to be men, witness the arrival of a strange carnival one late October night. And coming with it are things that live on dreams…and barter for much bigger things. Perfection, this one!
WNUF Halloween Special. This recent treasure from Chris LaMartina is a pinnacle of “found footage/nostalgia itching.” An incredibly well-done trip down memory lane in the costume of a recorded-from-TV Hallwoeen special complete with commercials and static and rewinding and a fairly effective if pretty simple set-up and delivery. A ghoulishy good time!
The Funhouse. This 1981 gem is on here because I have always found it deeply creepy and it always gave me the Autumn feels, even though I think it might be set in late summer. There’s a thick vein of sleaze running through this slasher classic where a group of horny teens (always with the horny teens) decide to sneak into a carnival funhouse for a night of Bible study and crafts and by that I mean probably smoking weed and bumping uglies, only to find themselves pursued by the deformed son of the carnival owner. Not super high on gore but it makes up for it in gross close ups of drooling monster mouth and weird carny imagery.
The Other. 1972 film based on the splendid novel by Thomas Tryon. Set during the Depression, twin brother are at the center of a circle of bizarre events and murder in their rural community. The less you know going in to this one the better but it is absolutely fantastic and a gorgeous film to behold, literally.
I’m going to leave off with this one. The goofy and highly off-kilter Satan’s Little Helper. A video game obsessed little boy finds himself assisting a serial killer plundering his town on Halloween. The boy is all about a game where you help the Devil do bad things and since the killer is dressed as the horned one he thinks that’s what he’s doing. Sure this relatively tame flick has all kinds of logic holes and the acting isn’t the best. But it’s fucking weird. And a lot of fun. From Jeff Lieberman, the feller what gave us the killer worm classic Squirm and the slashery Just Before Dawn.
There. You’ve maybe seen these. Might not have heard of some. Or maybe just never gave them a thought as a Halloween watch. But seeing the white-painted Kirk face every year…hearing the doo-doo-doo-doo of the Silver Shamrock jingle…Watching that little dude with the burlap face chase Brian Cox around his house with a broken lollipop? Change it up. Add one or two of these to your last weekend’s viewing and I promise you you might find at least one new favorite to sew into your Octobers from now on.
And if not, Michael Myers will be waiting for you…as always.
Boo-graphy: John Boden lives a stone throw from Three Mile Island with his wonderful wife and sons. A baker by day, he spends his off time writing or wasting time watching terrible horror films from the 70s and 80s. He likes Diet Pepsi, cheeseburgers, heavy metal, and old country music and often sports ferocious sideburns. While his output as a writer is fairly sporadic, it has a bit of a reputation for being unique. The books Dominoes, Spungunion, Walk The Darkness Down, and Jedi Summer are his doing alone. Detritus in Love, Out Behind the Barn, Rattlesnake Kisses, Cattywampus, and the nearly finished Black Salve… on those, he had assistance from Mercedes Yardley, Chad Lutzke, or Robert Ford. He’s easily tracked down on Facebook or the Twitter and as rumors have it, a pretty friendly feller… honest.
Meghan's House of Books 