4.
A Long December
by Richard Chizmar
About the Book:
"In 1996, Richard Chizmar’s debut short story collection, Midnight Promises, was a finalist for the World Fantasy Award. Publishers Weekly called it “a sterling collection” while singling out “The Silence of Sorrow” as “an understated masterpiece.”
Two years later, Subterranean Press published a mini-collection from Chizmar entitled Monsters and Other Stories. In his introduction, acclaimed genre critic Edward Bryant said, “When all is said and done, this book should leave you in utter silence, giving you time and opportunity to contemplate what you just read. Tough storytelling from a tough writer; but a writer who is not calloused. Chizmar possesses a finely honed gift of empathy. With utter grace and loving kindness he’ll put you right inside the life (and soul) of the monster.”
My thoughts:
(Although this is a Subterranean Press book, I bought my copy from Cemetery Dance, so it qualifies for the thread.)
Growing up, I had a brother who took great delight in terrifying the crap out of me. And while he was unrelenting, he knew when to back off. And he would. For long stretches of time where I would think he was done tormenting me and I found myself lulled into a sense of security.
The sh*t-yourself-jump-scare would happen when I least expected it. I won't get into the fact I started carrying around steak knives -- this is true. bwhahaha! Hey! Back off! I was 7 and just defending myself. And a couple stories actually feature a brother or two which Richard claims is not anything like his real brother. I'll take his word for that, unless of course his brother is holding him hostage as I write this. If so Richard, just tap out in Morse code: The lizard bellows near the dirty sock -- and I will send the appropriate ninjas to rescue you. Of course, I would have to hear those taps. Unlikely. And I don't know Morse code.
Anyway, these entries by Richard Chizmar were very much like this -- just really nice writing, flowing along telling a story, clapping me on the back with a hearty howdy-do, lulling -- lulling -- and then he would come in with some really unexpected ending that left me feeling unsettled and totally blindsided. I would get to the end of the story and he'd change it up on me from where I thought it was going. And that was great fun! I ended up saying, "Oh. My. God" outloud, numerous times.
After reading him for a while though, I sort of started expecting a twist, I got into his mindset. I didn't always know what was coming or which character was going to deliver the blow, but I knew it was waiting to clothesline me. And I was prepared mentally for it, watching for it. So, I had a break in reading
A Long December because life sort of jumped in, and that really ended up being a good thing. Because, I was lulled back into the role of victim. Talk about a kick to the girl balls!
At the back of the book, he does something I wish more authors would do. He chats about the stories and the seed of inspiration. I love to read about an author's process.
I only have one really huge complaint. And it's pretty bad.
What. The. Hell. Mr. Chizmar. Christmas eve? They got their tree Christmas eve in the title story,
A Long December? That is just wronger than wrong. As I write this, 2-20-2018, my Christmas tree is still up with your book in my lap and a couple steak knives resting close by.
Big recommend from me.
