Also, a few people questioned why I included Howard Waldrop in my list of horror writers. A few weeks ago, Dave Truesdale, our illustrious and talented editor, called me up to bitch about my perpetual tardiness with this column. Not only did Dallas hit us with a blast of uncontrollable fear and loathing back in 1963, but the city perpetuated it both by allowing Oliver Stone to film three movies here, and by making Edie Brickell, Vanilla Ice, and Lisa Loeb household words.
Problem is, short horror has been getting worse and worse over the last eight or so years.
It's not an effect of time and wisdom, but an effect of reading far too many crappy stories. Some people ride roller coasters, others skydive or bungee-jump, and a few smartasses write satirical essays about the lowlifes, jamooks, dweebs, and sociopathic losers who hang around science fiction conventions. Quite a few folks read horror so as to sleep at night. Well, maybe it's about time we should. Just as science fiction and fantasy need a good kick in the cojones every once in a while to keep the troops honest, so should we with horror.