Bill Gauthier's AMERICAN GAUTHIC: Installment 1 -- My Name Is...

a column by Bill Gauthier

This essay originally appeared in Dark Discoveries #3, Fall 2004.

Installment 1:

My Name Is,

or Who the Hell is This Guy and

Why the Hell Does He Have a Column?

Here we are at the beginning. I meant this as a joke, you know. When I mentioned to James that I'd be willing to write a column for Dark Discoveries, I didn't think he'd take me up on the offer. Until recently, selling my work has been rather difficult. Truth be told, it still is. So to not only have sold James two stories of mine ("The Umbrella People" back in the first issue and "Fun Gus the Tap Dance Man" in the last issue) but to have fooled him into giving me a column is somewhat surprising. And scary. And unsettling. And fucking cool.

The thing is, I don't have any delusions -- well, not many delusions; I know the majority of you have no idea who I am. Aside from the byline and the cool portrait of me in the masthead that my best friend Toby Gray drew, I'm not surprised. Most of my work thus far has appeared in small press 'zines or websites: three stories in Greg F. Gifune's late magazines Burning Sky ("Icarus Falling") and The Edge, Tales of Suspense ("Stray Cats" and "Burned Out"); a flash-fiction piece called "Snow Day" can still be found at the webzine Ideomancer (www.ideomancer.com, January 2003); and two other stories on sites that I won't mention right now because neither the stories nor the webzines were very good. If you know me from anything other than my two appearances here in DD, then it will probably be from my short story "The Growth of Alan Ashley" in Borderlands 5 (out now from Warner Books as From the Borderlands).

As your friendly neighborhood columnist, I'm sure you'll want to know a little about me before you listen to whatever madness I'm going to throw at you, so now I'll give you some biographical info.

I turned twenty-seven this past August, a week after the twenty-seventh anniversary of Elvis Presley's death. I'm recently separated from my wife and living on my own for the first time. I have a six-year-daughter who says I don't know anything about style. I don't have pets. I like it that I don't have to clean litterboxes or walk dogs or anything like that, and while I get lonely, I'd rather be lonely than have fur in my face. Cold? Maybe. Honest? Betcha ass.

I'm prone to hyperbolic tendencies.

I've always had a great imagination and a love for imaginative storytelling. My earliest memories aren't of Sesame Street but of CHiPs and sitcoms and Mom's soap operas and Adam West as Batman and George Reeves as Superman back when local UHF stations ran themselves and showed cartoons and reruns. Bugs Bunny, Woody Woodpecker, Casper. My father would bring home comic books and I loved them. And action figures! Chee-rist, I had some action figures. They were a perfect toy for a poor family; hours of entertainment for a few bucks. It was from these comic books and superheroes where I began to get my high ethical threshold.

Then came Star Wars. My father took me one night to see it in one of its rereleases in 1981 or 1982 and I was hooked. Still am. I love these movies, even the new ones, more than I can put into words. They were (and are) escapes for me. They were a place I could go to play when I was a kid and now they're doorways to my childhood. Yes, even the new ones.

When I was nine I found horror. I saw the first two Nightmare On Elm Street movies (there were only two) on HBO one night and was terrified...and hooked.

At thirteen, the love of horror brought me to Stephen King's The Shining, which I've written about elsewhere. I was at the part where Jack Torrance is being shown the basement. King had managed to make a thirteen-year-old who didn't read much read about a basement with great interest. The ability to do such a thing is magic. And I wanted it. So I set up an old Royal Quiet DeLuxe on some milk crates and began typing with one finger.

And, of course, there were more influences along the way. Harlan Ellison, Dan Simmons, John Steinbeck, and so many more. I don't claim to be innovative. The idea of having a column is stolen from Ellison and Thomas F. Monteleone. I've been reading Tom's Mothers And Fathers Italian Association since I was fifteen. Of course I'd want to emulate these guys. They talk the talk and walk the walk. I admire people who do that.

I'm a student at the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth and finally started my senior year. I work at a local independent bookstore called Baker Books, a place with lots of good shit to read and lots of good people who work there. Come by, pick up a copy of From the Borderlands, and I'll sign it for you.

Of course, there's more, but this isn't a memoir, it's a column, and while I'm one of my favorite topics, I won't waste anymore of your time with personal shit right now. You know me well enough for us to have an idea of where I'm coming from. One thing you may have noticed by now is that I use foul language. My parents didn't raise me that way (although I'm not sure if a day ever went by without hearing Mom say shit) but I picked it up, anyway. And while it may turn some of you off, fukkit. It's my column and James said I could write about what I want, how I want.

Which is pretty damn scary now that I'm here at the keyboard. I'm one of those people full of insecurities and this past year has been pretty difficult for me. This is one more thing to carry on my back. Yet, it's also a great feeling. Someone thinks I have enough talent to entertain the lot of you. Go figure.

So now that we're sitting here, you and I, let's talk. I may have failed to mention I have a knack for biting the hand that feeds me. Yes, it's a cliché but it's an appropriate one and it's late and I don't feel like trying to come up with something better. It's true, though. Some of my favorite Letterman moments aren't from gags but are the snide remarks he'll make about whatever network he calls home. I dig that because I'm the same way and always have been. My poor parents saw this first hand. I terrorized those poor people. And my kid sister, yikes! Poor thing. So, with that in mind, let's take on the small presses, me and you. The place where I'm finding my way.

Now, for some of us, the small presses are a godsend. They're a place where young writers can begin to learn the craft and possibly get their names out there. But I believe there are degrees of small presses and I'm going to attempt to break them apart right now. Bear with me, okay? I know that these divisions are too cut-n-dry but they're the best I can do in limited space and they'll suit my purposes (and then there are always parenthetical asides for stray roads).

We'll start at the top and work our way down. At the top of this pyramid is what I think of as the big small press. These include Cemetery Dance Publications, Borderlands Press, Subterranean Press, and recently Flesh & Blood and Delirium. There are others but these are the ones that come immediately to mind because I either own books by them or have wanted books by them. In the case of CD and F&B (and I'm assuming you'll be able to figure out who I mean), some of the big small presses also include magazines -- Cemetery Dance, Flesh & Blood, and Weird Tales -- that pay professional rates. They publish people like Stephen King and Peter Straub and Tom Piccirilli and Tom Monteleone. They produce some really great stuff.

Below the big small press is the small press. This is where most of the magazines linger and die. This is where a lot of writers hang for a while before going to the top of the pyramid. The aforementioned Flesh & Blood and Delirium presses are also huge in this group. There are some good magazines in this area. You're reading one of them now. Sadly most of the presses never rise above this area. There are a few that do, but not many. But even sadder, is the last level of our pyramid.

The small small presses are where the majority of the print- and webzines in the horror field are. This is the place where most of those at the top of the pyramid began. These are the guys (and gals) who pay in copies or "exposure." There are some great little mags here. Greg Gifune ran The Edge, Tales of Suspense and Burning Sky from here and I'm thankful for it. This is where people like Michael Laimo -- whose first novel Atmosphere is a knockout -- began. He worked his way up the pyramid to the top. He still hangs around the middle, but he's finding a nice penthouse with a view.

So where am I going with this? Well, any genre works on a small scale, which is why they're genres. That's cool. The small press is a great place to learn the craft, to develop friendships, and to see what's going on. There's a lot of good shit out there. Unfortunately, there's a lot of plain ol' shit out there too. And there's also a system that develops.

I've noticed that many small press publications (both print and internet) and writers stay there by choice now. A case of big fishes in small ponds. That's fine, but doesn't it get the water stagnant? For example, take a guy, let's call him Phillip Finkle. He's a writer who keeps getting rejected by the dudes at the top of the pyramid and those just below them. He frequents some bulletin boards online, goes to some conventions, whatever. He decides to start a magazine. So like that, Finkle's Freak Show is born. He needs writers but can't pay. Fine, go to the boards, post the info, and watch. A tub fulla stories come in, some even by people in the small press with "names." Sure, no one aside from readers of Molding Death or Black Heart Quarterly have heard of them, but that's okay, because like that Laimo guy, some of these people are Going Places. So FFS debuts and sells to, well, people who actually pay for sample copies and family members coerced by the writers (or, more realistically, the writers themselves) to buy additional copies.

This ain't good, right, Phillip? Well, here's the thing: Phillip wrote a story that Better Known Writer/Editor X rejected. In his rejection, he wrote, "Valiant effort. Entertaining if not a little tired. I'd ask you to please submit again but the sight of your name scares me." So, with a few ellipses, Better Known Writer/Editor X has just given a blurb. Finkle's work is "valiant...entertaining...the sight of [Finkle's] name scares me." Perfect! And plus, he's got The Buddy System.

The Buddy System is where one editor from one 'zine places an ad in another 'zine for return space. If it stopped there, that'd be cool, but too often it doesn't stop there. There's a whole system in place. Go to this website, vote for my story, I'll vote for yours, it'll work out well. Soon the time comes for a chapbook. I like certain chapbooks -- I wouldn't mind having my name on one -- but there seems to be a lot of them that look like real crap. Many appear to be written by the same people. This guy says nice things about the other guy while this woman says nice things about the previous guy and so on. Again, stagnant water.

I had a story that was published on a webzine that was on the bottom here. I came across the 'zine in question when it was a print 'zine. Greg Gifune had published a story in the first issue and I like Greg's short work, it's pretty damn good, so I figured I'd chance the 'zine and submitted a story. The story was accepted and was slated to appear in issue three. Payment was one copy of the issue. Fine. I should've known something was up, though, when the editor/publisher of the 'zine made it sound as though his assistant coerced him into accepting my story.

Anyway, a month passes and I get an e-mail saying that the print version of the magazine is no more but a web version is on the way. I have a chance to pull the story. I thank him for the info and say it's fine, publish the story. However, since I was going to get a free copy of the magazine my story was going to appear in, how about a copy of issue 1 or 2? Okay, says the editor/publisher, if you send me money for the postage. Now hold on, here. You want me to pay the postage on something I would've got for nothing originally? I told him to forget it. I'll take the "exposure" the webzine would generate. Of course I knew perfectly well the exposure would be next to nothing. But the thing that cinched it, was that this guy wanted me to vote for his story on some website! He didn't even ask, just made it sound as though it was expected.

For the hell of it, I went to the site and I began reading the story. And it sucked. I go to this guy's website and he's got these blurbs up from people and I'm shocked. He's created this image for himself that may only be true here on the very bottom of the pyramid. The real fucker of it is, I know there are others out there doing the same goddamn thing! There are people who are wasting our paper and our time staying in the small presses, trying to convince anyone who will listen that the big guys (read: anyone above that lowest level) are sell-outs.

And people buy it. I'm no conformist, but damnit, I want what I've written to be read. While I'm grateful for the opportunities the small small presses have given me, there's a reason why I didn't submit much to The Edge after January 2003: I began getting into places with more readers and who paid more. I won't go into art versus commerce here, we'll save that monster for another time. But I want you to look around and see what's going on.

I was apprehensive on even mentioning a column to James because I don't want to be known as a horror writer. I'm a guy who writes horror. I also write other things. But I decided to go with it because I think what James is doing with Dark Discoveries has the potential to become another Cemetery Dance and Flesh & Blood. It looks great and it has great stories in it.

Now, like I said, there are a lot of good things on the bottom (and second level) and some will rise to the top. But there are also a lot of charlatans who are too busy trying to create this mythic underworld to be taken seriously. And what often happens is that it sends out diseases to the rest of the pyramid and makes it all a little sicker.

* * *

I used Michael Laimo as an example several times here. There's a reason for this. Michael began at the bottom but has since climbed up. His first novel Atmosphere, was published in hardcover by Delirium and paperback by Leisure. It's a great novel and I highly recommend it. His second novel, Deep in the Darkness, appeared in a nice (although crammed full o' typos) hardcover from Flesh & Blood and in paperback by Leisure. I recommend this novel, too, though I still prefer Atmosphere more. Michael is a shining example of the small press doing its job, taking a young writer and helping him along. Go out now and get his books if you haven't already.

I also mentioned Greg F. Gifune. As an editor/publisher, he helped me during some formative times and I'm grateful to him for that. I urge you to get his collections Down to Sleep and Heretics, both published by Delirium. Also, his novella Saying Uncle (published by December Girl Press) is a masterpiece. Greg has written three novels, too, and while I've enjoyed them, I think his short fiction is like a punch to the gut. Like anything worthwhile in life, it hurts. He'll have a breakthrough novel yet, I'm sure, and while The Bleeding Season (published by Delirium in 2003) is close, I don't think it's there yet. Certainly seek him out, though.

* * *

One of the ideas for American Gauthic that I'm toying with is finding some news articles from around the country that I deem "weird" and bringing them to you. One story that I found comes from KOAT 7: The New Mexican Channel in Albuquerque, New Mexico. A man named Conrado Gonzalez has been charged with murdering his separated wife's boyfriend, Patrick Garcia. The estranged wife, Victoria Pedro-Gonzalez, has been charged with conspiracy and evidence tampering after she helped her husband clean up the mess he made. The cinch for me is that they're both deaf, "which," the article says, "has caused a bit of a setback in the case."

I don't exactly know why that item stuck out, but it appealed to my morbid side. I found it...well...Gauthic.

* * *

That's about it for this installment. If you want to say hi, feel free to send me an e-mail. I also keep a journal there where you can watch me go crazy if that's to your liking. And please, let me know what you'd like to see in future installments. It's your column as much as it is mine. I may not reply to you personally and (unless you explicitly ask not to be named) I may use your e-mail in future columns, but I will love hearing from you.

And, please, let me know how I'm doing. This is new for me, uncharted territory. I hope that I can entertain you and -- maybe -- give you something to think about. This should be a fun ride for both of us.

Take care.

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