I’ll let the photo speak for itself but I was delighted to see this posted on Facebook by JD Gillam
SciFiNow Review
- thanks for sharing, sir!
SciFiNow gives Black Feathers half a page and a big thumbs up!
What an exciting week!
I had an email from my agent saying we’ll soon be signing a deal for the audio rights in MEAT and Garbage Man. Taken with the scheduled reissue of both titles in e-book and print by Andrews UK, it’s a sign that both books have long tails and real staying power. I couldn’t be happier about it.
Since my last round up another swathe of great reviews have come in for Black Feathers. As you can see from the countdown to the right, there’s less than a month to go until UK publication (and less than three weeks until the American release)!
The final printed copies arrived at Angry Robot HQ this morning – gorgeous or what?
My thanks this week go to Jason for his BoneBreaker post, Horror Fiction Review, Bane of Kings (for The Founding Fields) and the wonderful woman I know only as ‘karen’ who put this awesome response on Goodreads, resulting in forty shelf adds! Karen, you are awesome!
This Is Horror are also having a big Joseph D’Lacey week with a written, in depth look at Splinters and a two-part podcast on the project. Part one was very difficult to listen to for me, as three horror experts carved a Y-shaped incision into the book and completely dissected it. Still, the verdict was good and the podcast contains another chance to hear Richard Kellum reading the infamous Son of Porn (adult content).
I have two Black Feathers launches coming up and will dedicate a full post to those in the next few days.
Have a lovely weekend!
As I’m unable to achieve anything else today, here’s a poem…
Spice Girl by Joseph D’Lacey
It was all champagne and laughter,
Real love, real ales and beers.
By morning all the fizz went flat,
I’d seen the curry in your ears.
You’d hid it well the night before
Beneath your flowing silken locks
But you’ve got lughole biriyani
And some chutney in your socks.
There’s passanda in your pockets
And chapatis in your pants.
The vindaloo that’s in the loo
May spoil this new romance.
When I saw you in that beer tent,
I never thought to worry
That you’d stuff naan bread up your nose
And plug your ears with curry.
There’s bhoona in your brassiere,
Tandoori ‘twixt your toes.
Where you keep your hot Madras
Shiva only knows.
You truly are a spicy lass
That could be my good luck.
Let’s go share a takeaway
And then a nice hot Bombay duck.
Blood Fugue, the untold story.
Blood Fugue came out in November 2012 – my first novel since Garbage Man in 2009.
It was a relief to finally get back on the shelves after some rough air on the publishing front.
Some facts about the book:
- It was the 3rd novel I ever wrote, back in 2003.
- It was my 1st Horror novel.
- I wrote it having asked my wife to randomly choose a word from a list of thirty human ‘activities’ and a list of thirty themes. The words were Ritual & Outdoorsmanship.
- I edited it many times over ten years, including altering the POV from 1st to 3rd person.
- It was rejected by most literary agencies and publishers in the UK, as well as some in the USA.
- The original text was 108K.
- The final text was 76K.
- Steve Haynes of Proxima approached me for the novel, making it the first time I didn’t have to submit a piece of work in the usual way.
- Steve was responsible for 24K of the 32K that were cut during the edit.
- It was the first time I’d ever asked another author to read a novel and give me a quote – the author was UK Horror’s brightest star, Adam Nevill.
- I dedicated the book to my step-dad, who encouraged my love of reading and books from a very early age.
Probably the best thing for me about Blood Fugue was how well it was received after I’d been absent from bookshelves for quite a spell. This is what people had to say:
“From the riveting, sexually charged opening chapter of Blood Fugue, the reader knows they’re in good, if a little twisted, hands. D’Lacey’s tale blasted through 265 blood-soaked pages in a fevered frenzy. Haven’t had this much fun with a dark tale since Wilson’s The Keep. It’s vampires pumped up on steroids and raunchy as hell, making Stoker’s Dracula blush and Meyer’s Twilight seem even more like sparkly, emo wimps.” Don Roff, author of Zombies: A Record of the Year of Infection
“Folklore and mythology, as well as man’s catastrophic disregard for nature, are the meat of Joseph D’Lacey’s horror. But the prime cuts are always compassion and surprise.” Adam Nevill, author of Apartment 16, The Ritual and Last Days
“Blood Fugue is the third novel from a top British horror author. Blending well-written prose with fantastic imagery, this novel packs plenty of punches. Ideal for fans of Stephen King and Richard Laymon. Watch out! The ‘Fugue’ is about!” Ellie Wixon, Blackwell’s
“A wonderfully twisted and uber-violent take on the vampire myth.” Wayne Simmons, author of Flu and Drop Dead Gorgeous
“Captivating…truly a joy to read.” Horror Reviewsite
“Blood Fugue is a near perfect mix of vampires, body horror and ecological thriller. if you only read one vampire novel this year, make sure it is this one.” Gingernuts of Horror.
“Blowjobs, threesomes and girl on girl…owes more to Fifty Shades of Grey than to Dracula.” Annexe Magazine
“D’Lacey captures the minutiae of small town America with a skill that is reminiscent of early Stephen King. If you’re a horror fan and you’re not already reading Joseph D’Lacey you had better have a bloody good excuse.” The Eloquent Page
“A magic carpet ride back to the early days of horror.” Clare’s Crypt
“D’Lacey forms a world that is some part the beautiful mystery of early Koontz, the small town whimsy of King and the dangerously blurry line between sex and violence that encapsulates Laymon.” Snakebite Horror
“If you love horror that doesn’t hold anything back with great, three-dimensional characters, unique plots and some scary-arse monsters, pick up a book by Joseph D’Lacey – his stories are inventive, terrifying and oh-so-good – horror at its very best.” The Aussie Zombie
“D’Lacey’s writing is definitely sexy, terrifying and very, very visceral…This book is just glorious.” Adventures in Trash
“A trip through the forest from hell…Unforgettable.” Dark Arts Magazine
“D’Lacey’s storytelling ability is strong and compelling…brutal deaths, incredibly sinister characters and scenes of a graphic sexual nature.” Andy Erupts
(You can read the full story of the horrific Blood Fugue edit on Wayne Simmons’ Write Club.)
Our first conversation
When I was seventeen, I decided it was time to get to know my father. I’d seen him only once, very briefly, since I was two years old.
Discovering he was in the UK, I made arrangements and told my mother I was leaving, that didn’t know when I’d be back. On a cold day in March 1986, I alighted from a train at a remote station in the east of England in my leather jacket and steel-capped Doctor Martens.
There he was. Smoking. Casual. Quick-eyed. Did we hug or just shake hands? I don’t even remember. I was scared and excited. This was either a new world or another dead-end. What must he have thought of my gaunt, hollow face, my collapsed Mohican and wild beard?
We went to a pub and got drunk. They knew him there; everywhere he went people knew him or if they didn’t they soon couldn’t forget him. “This is my number one son,” he said to the landlord that day and he said it wherever we went for the next four or five years.
We drank standing up – a habit of his enabling him to gauge his level of inebriation. The conversation was simple. He did all the talking. “I never did anything to hurt your mother,” he said. He said it over and over in many different ways. I was embarrassed. I tried to explain that it was none of my business, that I didn’t really want to know. But for a long time, that was all he said whenever we were drinking together.
I don’t think he was telling me. I think he was telling himself.
I ended up working and travelling with him as a cold caller and salesman for the next few years. I was already experiencing depression, anxiety and panic attacks by then. I’d hoped the new start would fix everything but it didn’t.
Two good things came of it all, though. I did begin to know my father – through his charm and rage, and through his language – and I was thrown into an extremely challenging job without any means of escape. To quit would be to go home, beaten and ashamed.
Seeking the burger
In every great fantasy, there is a quest.
In my fantasy, that quest is for the tastiest vegetarian burger ever conceived. I do accept that I may never hold such a grail in my hands (or take a bite out of it) but that’s no reason not to saddle up and sally forth.
Why a burger, though?
Well, when I stopped eating animals – a direct result of researching and writing MEAT – I did still miss certain textures and flavours. I love food immensely and I enjoy cooking even more now than I when I ate meat. I also firmly believe that there is a meatless alternative that will not simply substitute the burger experience but better it.
So if you have such a recipe and wish to share it or if you’ve heard a rumour of a venue where such a delicacy is served, this is the place to whisper your secret.
I’ll do the same!
Interpreting the language of my dead father
How many of us can say we really know our parents? Is this concern unique to me or do others ask themselves a similar question?
My father has been dead a few years now but his ghost still lingers. Not a vengeful spirit with its own intelligence and agendas. No. Simply my memories of his behaviour and, more often, the things he said; his words. I often wonder what they meant.
If you’re easily offended, perhaps this isn’t a page you should read. This is where my dead father will speak his words again – good, bad or just quirky – and where I will attempt to understand them.
First here are some words of my own that describe him – from the outside, unable to fathom what was going on within:
raging; compassionate; volatile; gregarious; drunk; charismatic; violent; eloquent; unfaithful; ambitious; controlling; inspired; bigoted; passionate; irrational; fugitive.
I hope these words are observations rather than judgements. I hope the same is true of any words that follow.
