I wish I’d taken more pictures. A part of my heart is still with each of these trucks. I remember dragging a chain out of the bed and leaving a big gouge on the bed rail of one. I remember loading a piano into one of the tall ones, in the sun, when I wasn’t sure I had gas money to get home. I remember a dog I picked up one day to get it a little farther down the road, and how it kept biting me and biting me. I remember pulling over in the ditch to write. I remember working through the night, trying to get them running again. I remember watching fireworks from the bed of the blue one with my wife, then, when the radio came on with its song to match the explosions, two-stepping out through the grass with her. I remember my daughter putting a tarp in the bed of the yellow one and then filling it with water, for all the kids on the block to have a swimming pool. And I wish I had pictures of each one of these. But you never think to get a camera out, do you? At least I never did. So, some of these are my trucks, and some are kind of stock photos—stuff I searched up.
Set in the deep South, Mongrels is a deeply moving, sometimes grisly, and surprisingly funny novel that follows an unnamed narrator as he comes of age under the care of his aunt and uncle — who are werewolves. They are a family living on the fringe, struggling to survive in a society that shuns them: living in cars or trailers, moving every couple of months, eating from garbage cans, taking whatever work they can scrounge. Mongrels takes us on a compelling and fascinating journey into this dark and shadowy world, moving fluidly through time to create an unforgettable portrait of a yoy trying to understand his place in the world and in his close-knit family of outcasts. Never has the werewolf been so funny, so bloody, so raw and so real. Jones delivers a smart and innovative novel with heart.
______reviews : LA Times | Tor.com #1 | Tor.com #2 | SciFiNow (UK) | LitReactor | DreadCentral | BookRiot (@2:55) | Literary Disco (@23:30) B&N Science Fiction and Fantasy | Locus |
Project: Black T-Shirt
“This collection showcases the best writings of Stephen Graham Jones, whose career is developing rapidly from the noir underground to the mainstream. The Faster Redder Road features excerpts from Jones’s novels—including The Last Final Girl, The Fast Red Road: A Plainsong, Not for Nothing, and The Gospel of Z—and short stories, some never before published in book form. Examining Jones’s contributions to American literature as well as noir, Theodore C. Van Alst Jr.’s introduction puts Jones on the literary map.”
1. Sitting together and reading still counts as socializing:↳ Via quoteinvestigator.com, once upon a time.
2. It’s considered polite not to read over your date’s shoulder:↳ Used to be via empoweredteensandparents.com.
3. Fill the steps between class and the bus stop with a book:↳ I wonder if these kids know they’re in the original of this image from betabeat.com?
4. Books, for all the many time-outs and half-times of the sporting events you attend:↳ Somebody here forgot their book . . . (Originally via umhoops.com).
5. “There’s such a glare in here, we’re all having to hold our phones at odd angles to see the pages of these books”:↳ Used to be from
- Introduction: Joe R. Lansdale
- Thirteen (out loud)
- Brush dogs (out loud)
- Welcome to the Reptile House
- This is Love
- The Spindly Man
- The Black Sleeve of Destiny
- The Spider Box
- Snow Monsters
- Doc’s Story
- The Dead Are Not
- Second Chances
- After the People Lights Have Gone Off
- Solve for X
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Bram Stoker Award Finalist
Back in the late nineties, I’d see Stephen Dixon stories all over and flip back to his author bio at the end of the journal or whatever not because I didn’t already know it, but for the rush: it always said he had some three hundred stories published. I had maybe six at the time? Three hundred was an amazing, impossible, never-get-there kind of number. And I’m not there yet. This isn’t that post. Though I did just total up my stories from print- and e-mags and anthologies and best-of-the-years and textbooks, meaning there’s some doubling, even some tripling, and maybe a ‘forthcoming’ or three sneaked in (I did manage not to count novel chapters that ran in different places, anyway), but still, sitting at 201, looks like. Since my first publication in Black Warrior Review back in 1996 (well, ‘first’ would be this little mag MindPurge, then there was North Texas Review. But BWR was the first I got a check for. And checks matter). Still chasing Dixon, though.
Exactly fifty stories, none longer than a thousand words, a couple just a sentence or two.
Here‘s where I was getting them all in order.
Here’s some few links:
If we had to choose one writer to rebuild American literature after the apocalypse, the smart money would be on Stephen Graham Jones, who is in the process of reinventing literally every genre from the ground up. In States of Grace he offers up lean, deftly composed short-shorts that seem effortless but inflict a surprising amount of mayhem considering their size—like a deadly gang of smurfs. – Brian Evenson
What if you weren’t looking for evidence of the supernatural, but found it all the same? A true research scientist can either hide that evidence or tell the world. Either way it’s going to haunt you. Either way your life is never going to be same.
Find out what’s always on the other side of the door.
It’s the Elvis Room.
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from Black Static:and, that long hair bit early on in the book, it’s from here. thanks to Chris Deal for the re-link. and