Ode to a Good Man & Great Writer
Died September 15, 2006, Newton, New Jersey
Charles Lewis Grant, 64, one of the post-war generation’s most honored and influential fantasy and horror writers, died of a heart attack at home in Newton, New Jersey, following a long illness. The son of an Episcopalian priest, Grant attended Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut, with thoughts of following in his father’s footsteps; but he soon changed his majors to English and History. After graduation from Trinity in 1964, he returned to New Jersey (the setting for all of his major novels) to teach high school. His first serious efforts at writing fiction came in 1966, when he attended the meetings of a local writers’ club. In April 1968, he made his first sale, to The Magazine of Fantasy of Science Fiction. Later that month, he was drafted into the U.S. Army, and served in Vietnam with the Military Police at Qui Nhon, where he was seriously wounded twice.
After two years of active duty, Grant returned to teaching, but dedicated himself to writing, producing five novels that were never published. His first published novel, The Shadow of Alpha (1976), as well as Ascension (1977) and Legion (1979) were science fiction, but he soon shifted his attention to horror, creating the “Oxrun Station” series, which includes the novels The Hour of the Oxrun Dead (1977), The Sound of Midnight (1978), The Last Call of Mourning (1979), The Grave (1981), The Bloodwind (1982), The Soft Whisper of the Dead (1982), The Dark Cry of the Moon and The Long Night of the Grave (both 1986), as well as two collections of novelettes, Nightmare Seasons (1982) and The Orchard (1985).
In 1978, Grant unveiled the short story anthology series Shadows, setting a new and insistently literary standard for horror fiction anthologies. In the introduction to its first volume, Grant offered his enduring manifesto, championing “a quiet way to scream” – a literature of “dark fantasy” that became known as “quiet horror.”
Although critically acclaimed as a writer and editor, Grant sometimes wrote pseudonymously for financial or simply entertaining reasons. He penned a best-selling series of romances as Felicia Andrews; occult adventure novels as Geoffrey Marsh; humorous fantasies and other novels as Lionel Fenn, Timothy Boggs, Mark Rivers, and Simon Lake. But his devotion to horror fiction was unrelenting – as witness the novels Night Songs (1984), The Tea Party (1985), The Pet (1986), For Fear of the Night (1988), In a Dark Dream (1989), Stunts (1990), Something Stirs (1991), Raven (1993), Jackals (1994); his “Millennium Quartet,” Symphony (1997), In the Mood (1998), Chariot (1998), and Riders in the Sky (1999); his “Black Oak” series; his final story collection The Black Carousel (1995); and two New York Times best-selling “X-Files” novels.
Grant wrote more than 110 books and 200 short stories, and edited more than two dozen short fiction anthologies. He received (among other awards and honors) the Nebula, World Fantasy, British Fantasy, and Bram Stoker Awards. He was also presented with Lifetime Achievement Awards from the Horror Writers Association, the British Fantasy Society, and the World Horror Convention. He was a past president of the Horror Writers Association and past Vice President of the Science Fiction Writers of America. As writer, editor, mentor, and friend, he nurtured the careers of countless younger writers throughout the world.
Grant is survived by his wife of 24 years, Kathryn Ptacek of Newton; his brother, John C. Grant of Washington, New Jersey; a son, Ian M. Grant and his wife Caroline of Juneau, Alaska; a daughter, Emily Stalnaker and her husband Aaron of Akron, Ohio; two grandchildren, Payton M. Grant and Aaron Robert Stalnaker; and many cousins. He was predeceased by his parents, Reverend Sydney E. and Minerva (Clark) Grant.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Charles L. Grant Memorial Fund, which will be established to help further the careers of young writers and editors of fantasy and horror fiction.
A few of my own memories:
I got to know Charlie during my years attending Necon, the annual summer retreat for horror writers, and via my membership in the Horror Writers of America (now the Horror Writers Association, reflecting its international scope of members). I was in awe of just about everyone at Necon, and given my familiarity with Charlie's horror fiction (I still haven't read his sf, sorry to say), I was in particular awe of Mr. Grant.
As a man, he was almost iconic in his embodiment of what a writer is, was, should be: intent in all matters upon how it applied to writing -- the art and the life --- and how writing applied to the subject at hand. He moved around the Rhode Island Roger Williams College campus like a vet faculty member, striding with that sturdy body language fixed between radiating the arrogance of owning the place, hunkered a bit in acknowledgement that the damnable place might really own him.
That mix of bravado and vulnerability vanished as soon as he was one-on-one with anyone in conversation, particularly since writing and horror were always the primary hot topics at Necon -- Charlie owned that turf. Period.
Charlie was a constant presence, clearly one of the scene's key people and a fierce curmudgeon when provoked or feeling like being left alone. Panels were instantly livelier if Charlie was part of 'em, coming across like a surly lion when forced to contend with transitional subjects he found frivolous ("splatterpunk", anyone?), passionate and articulate when talking about the life of a writer -- the working writer, as Charlie's own credentials (including pseudonames) amply embodied; he had little or no patience for "lazy writers" -- or his favorite genre and its magic & potential.
Charlie was initially quite gruff with me -- I was, at the time, a bit of an interloper, "that comics guy" who was bleeding into horror writing via my writing on horror films for fanzines and zines and my initial tentative stabs at published short fiction. My growing argumentative during "That Damned Game Show" when an answer I gave -- that Mario Bava directed Caltiki, the Immortal Monster, not Riccardo Freda, who walked off the set and abandoned the film -- was shot down ("the answer is -- Riccardo Freda," Doug Winter sternly asserted) prompted an unexpectedly warm comment from Charlie as I stepped down from the stage. Baring one's teeth was a necessary rite-of-passage into Charlie's circle of respect, and the fact I followed through with evidence to back my contention long after Necon was over (thanks, Tim Lucas!) further endeared my stubborn Yankee streak to Charlie.
In short order, my knowledge and great love for films Charlie loved -- Val Lewton's RKO gems, Jacques Tourneur's Curse/Night of the Demon, vintage 1930s and '40s horror, etc. -- led to some pleasant late-night Necon conversations amid the usual Necon hubbub. I recall particularly Charlie approaching me seeking a copy of a rare title he was seeking; I mailed it to him pronto upon my return home, earning a kind postcard and -- the following summer -- a wink and scowl followed by, "I don't care what Doug says about you, Steve, you seem to be an OK guy." (BTW, Doug and I quickly became good friends, too, so don't take this history the wrong way.)
That attitude changed when I advocated comics and graphic novel writers being eligible for Bram Stoker Award nominations -- suddenly, I was back to interloper status, and damned interloper status at that. Charlie was vehemently against such nonsense, and was quickly in my face about this -- and I do mean in my face. He waved his finger at my nose and literally yelled, "It isn't a viable medium for writers! If you want this to go through, you'll have to prove it to me or push it over my dead body!" Charlie was formidable, to say the least, but I stood my ground -- and loaned him a set of Sandman (still only in its comics format, pre-graphic novel volumes) as evidence of my argument that there were, indeed, some top-notch writers mining the genre in the once-despised comics medium.
A lesser man would have tossed them back unread; Charlie not only read them, he loved Sandman (thanks, Neil!), asked if I could find a set for him, and made a point of letting me know he had been wrong and I was right. Of course, that same Necon, he gladly turned the tables and boastfully asserted himself when he caught me in an error of fact during conversation -- "ah ha! Phah -- artists! What you don't know!" -- and we laughed, and thus, all was right with the world. Charlie was again on top, and I was in my place, and neither of us would have had it any other way.
I haven't been at Necon for years, sadly, and lost contact with Charlie over the years, though I read his work forever thereafter (including the X-Files novels and every installment of the Shadows anthology I could find). My last couple of Necons included brief conversations with Charlie, but he was in poor health and often too exhausted to engage with the fire I so associated with my first impressions of him. (I won't belabor those last impressions; it's never fair to shade one's memories of a person's spirit with the toll the failing flesh takes upon said spirit.) Charlie was one of the greats I've been fortunate enough in this lifetime to meet, and he indeed encouraged my own pursuits as a writer.
I've missed him for years; we'll all miss him forever, now.. save for his writing, which -- as Charlie always knew and said -- will outlive us all.
(w/Bissette art, Bissette/CCS team minicomic)
Streets On Tuesday!
This coming Tuesday, the two DVDs I've written about off and on all year (due to my own participation in each project, in very different ways) are streeting at last, both from the good folks at Heretic. (Both films are, appropriately enough, cinematic examples of the "quiet horror" approach Charlie so eloquently championed throughout his career.)
First up is The Last Broadcast, for which I painted an expansive piece which appears as inside-cover art, suitable for framing/display, and worked with a dedicated team of Center for Cartoon Studies year one students on the bonus "Jersey Devil" mini-comic tucked inside with the DVD itself. Very cool package, all in all, and a nifty movie, too.
As a favor to filmmakers and amigos Lance Weiler and Stefan Avalos, I also cobbled together three variations on possible back-cover text, which I'm posting for your amusement, below.
Having worked as a video superstore buyer/manager for many years, I know how vital this aspect of the packaging can be -- who is the audience you're trying to attract to your film? How do you present your film?
An essentially sui generis film like The Last Broadcast (a mockumentary-mystery that might be too bizarre for mystery fans, too tame for horror buffs) can be a difficult sell. One neither wishes to play up certain elements to misrepresent the film as an all-out horror pic, or undersell its unique merger of psychological dread and inventive storytelling. Furthermore, The Last Broadcast holds a special allure for young filmmakers who likely heard of the film via internet chatrooms, discussion boards or buzz -- though pitching that too strongly might alienate casual viewers just looking for a good night's entertainment -- and there's that pesky The Blair Witch Project bugaboo to deal with or ignore, which is both a key sales point and albatross (The Last Broadcast, completed over a year before Blair Witch, clearly provided the template for 1999's breakthrough sleeper horror hit, and the "innovative" Blair Witch online ballyhoo was whole-hog stolen from Stefan and Lance's Last Broadcast online promotion).
Writing this kind of box copy is a fun challenge, and one I enjoyed. I'll leave it to you to find out which version Stefan, Lance and Heretic finally went with!
Version #1:
________________________
“**** ...creates an alternate universe
in mind-boggling detail...” - New Jersey Star Ledger
“...a slick thriller.” - Time Magazine
“...a masterpiece.” - Punk Planet
“Let’s not mince words: The Last Broadcast is The Jazz Singer
of the digital era of feature filmmaking.” - SR Bissette
On December 15th, 1995, a four-man team from the cable-access program “Fact or Fiction” braved the desolate New Jersey Pine Barrens, determined to deliver a live broadcast of the legendary monster The Jersey Devil.
Only one came out alive...
...and that was only the beginning.
The Last Broadcast is many things: an inventive internet-era mystery, an atmospheric horror film, a clever ‘mockumentary’ satirizing ‘Reality TV’ creators, parasites and sycophants. Often imitated but rarely seen (or bettered), The Last Broadcast presents itself as a documentary comprised of interviews and ‘found footage’ shot by those who were savagely murdered in the dead of night. The tangled web of psychic and psychotic behavior, backwoods menace, brutal death and buried secrets creates its own brand of spidery terror. And at the center of that web waits the horrific truth behind -- The Last Broadcast.
Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler’s The Last Broadcast also made history as the first digitally-produced and satellite-broadcast theatrical feature in history. It has since earned cult stature as a pioneer in how 21st Century films are made and seen -- and as an eerie, innovative gem.
This definitive DVD edition features:
[see extras list with Version #3, final copy, below]
Version #2:
_____________________
Ambition.
Obsession.
Madness.
Damnation...
...and Death.
And That’s Just the Beginning of --
THE LAST BROADCAST.
On December 15th, 1995, a four-man team from the cable-access program “Fact or Fiction” braved the desolate New Jersey Pine Barrens, determined to deliver a live broadcast of the legendary monster The Jersey Devil.
Only one came out alive.
It took the police two days to find the remains of two torn and battered bodies.
The third was never found.
It took the coroner four days to put the pieces back together.
It took the jury 90 minutes to sentence the lone survivor to life in prison.
One year later, filmmaker David Leigh decided to mount his own investigation. Convinced that the man convicted of these terrible crimes was innocent, Leigh proposes the murders were committed by someone -- or something -- else.
Could the Jersey Devil still haunt the barrens?
Often imitated (The Blair Witch Project debuted a year later) but rarely celebrated or seen, The Last Broadcast is many things: an inventive internet-era mystery, an atmospheric horror film, a clever ‘mockumentary’ satirizing ‘Reality TV’ creators, parasites and sycophants. It unreels as a documentary comprised of interviews and ‘found footage’ shot by those who were savagely murdered in the dead of night.
The tangled web of psychic and psychotic behavior, backwoods menace, brutal death and buried secrets creates its own brand of spidery terror. And at the center of that blood-spattered web lurks the horrific truth behind -- The Last Broadcast.
This definitive special edition of the chilling classic features:
[see extras list, below]
“Incredibly creepy. Don’t see it alone.
And if you do, don’t go to bed alone...” - The Vanguard
“**** ...creates an alternate universe
in mind-boggling detail...” - New Jersey Star Ledger
“The story is well told... it’s terrific!” - Fox TV
“...a masterpiece.” - Punk Planet
__________________
Version #3:
___________________
“Let’s not mince words: The Last Broadcast is The Jazz Singer of the digital era of feature filmmaking.” - SR Bissette
From the makers of Head Trauma and The Ghosts of Edendale -- the ‘shockumentary’ that launched the New Millennium of filmmaking!
The Last Broadcast is many things: a mystery film, a horror movie, an inventive and often-imitated ‘mockumentary’ -- and the first digitally-produced and satellite-broadcast theatrical feature in history. It has since earned cult stature as a pioneer in how 21st Century films are made and seen -- and as a seminal 1990s ‘sleeper’, must-viewing for all who love cinema and a healthy chill.
One year after a horrific multiple murder in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, filmmaker David Leigh (David Beard) mounts his own documentary investigation of “psychic” Jim Suerd (Jim Seward), serving life in prison for the murder of a three-man amateur cable “news team” (played by Rein Clabbers and The Last Broadcast co-directors Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler) he led in search of the legendary “Jersey Devil.” Leigh believes someone -- or something -- else was behind the brutal deaths.
What is the horrifying secret of The Last Broadcast?
Building on the bedrock of Ruggero Deodato’s notorious Cannibal Holocaust (1981) and genuine documentaries like Paradise Lost (1996), The Last Broadcast probes the psychopathology of “reality TV.” But The Last Broadcast delivers its horrors without spilling entrails, anticipating the subtler suggestive horrors popularized by The Sixth Sense and Japanese ‘J-horror’ ghost films. As in their subsequent solo features -- Stefan Avalos’s The Ghosts of Edendale (2005) and Lance Weiler’s Head Trauma (2006, also available from Heretic) -- they create goosebumps by exploring the dark corners where the real monsters dwell.
This definitive special edition of the chilling classic features:
[see list of extras, below]
__
“***1/2 Creepy and Provocative...” - The Philadelphia Inquirer
“...May have influenced Blair Witch -- it certainly preceded it.” - Indie Wire
“**** ...creates an alternate universe in mind-boggling detail...” - New Jersey Star Ledger
“...a masterpiece.” - Punk Planet
___________
For box art:
This definitive DVD edition features:
* Remastered Picture and Sound
* Two audio commentary tracks with co-creators Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler
* English and Spanish Subtitles (Feature only)
* Behind the scenes docs on Production, Post-Production and Distribution
* 12-pg. booklet including color mini-comic “Jersey Devil” by Stephen R. Bissette (co-creator of Constantine) and The Center for Cartoon Studies; Jersey Devil sightings map; bios; liner notes; more!
* Exclusive Interviews
* "Fact or Fiction!" rare clips from the infamous public access cable show.
* Jim Seward - Alive and Well (2 folk songs)
* Trailers for The Last Broadcast, Ghosts of Edendale and Head Trauma
* "Gallery of Gore"- Pine Barrens murder crime scene & autopsy images, The Last Broadcast poster and box art from around the world!
For booklet:
* Remastered Picture and Soundtrack
* Two audio commentary tracks with co-creators Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler (1999 and 2006)
* English and Spanish Subtitles (for the Main Feature only)
* Behind the scenes documentary featurettes on Production, Post-Production and Distribution
* 12-pg. booklet including color mini-comic “Jersey Devil” by Stephen R. Bissette (co-creator of Constantine) and artists and writers from The Center for Cartoon Studies; Jersey Devil sightings map; filmmaker portraits & biographies; liner notes; more!
* Raw Interviews - Improv before the edit
* "Fact or Fiction!" - rare clips from the infamous public access cable show!
* Jim Seward - Alive and Well (performing two folk songs)
* Trailers for The Last Broadcast, Stefan Avalos’s Ghosts of Edendale and Lance Weiler’s Head Trauma
* "Gallery of Gore"- original Pine Barrens murder crime scene & autopsy images, The Last Broadcast poster and box art from around the world!