Horror Movie Survival Kit


If the horror movies of the last ten years have taught us anything, it’s that adhering to archaic rules like ‘don’t have sex,’ ‘don’t do drugs,’ and others like them won’t protect you. Spoiler alert: in Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard’s excellent The Cabin in the Woods, the stoner is one of the only survivors (which don’t really matter, because the world ends minutes afterwards); in The Babadook, the mother and her son have to learn to live with the titular monster instead of try to defeat it; and in AMC’s The Walking Dead, no one is safe. The rules are of little consequence; instead, the best one can hope for, if stuck in a horror movie, is to be prepared for the worst.

Thankfully, the good folks at Man Crates are thinking ahead. Providing gift baskets for men (or whoever may enjoy opening their presents with a crowbar), they’re unique delivery method allows one to consolidate everything they’ll need to survive a horror movie in one place.


What would go in my crate? Read on to find out.

1. A 5-gallon can of gas. Let’s face it, I’m not Dean Winchester. Throwing down with a machete-wielding Jason Voorhees or a rabid werewolf is not in the cards. The fuel can do one of two things. Firstly, you can use it to fill up your car’s tank and drive off into the sunset with Leatherface waving his chainsaw in the middle of the road and lamenting your escape. Secondly, if all else fails, nothing ends a movie like a good explosion. Blow up the haunted house with the ghosts inside. Blow up that possessed car before it runs you off the road. Gasoline is your friend.

2. A spare set of keys. That great escape I told you about? Not gonna happen if you drop your keys while running to your getaway car. If you have a spare car key (ideally attached somewhere on the car), you won’t have to die in an embarrassing way like being choked out while sitting in the driver’s seat and squealing about how you can’t find the keys.

3. Running shoes! I recommend Asics. My pair has lasted me over three years and I’ve done plenty of running in them. They’re perfect for making a break for your vehicle, or if for some reason your car still want start after taking precautions 1 & 2 into consideration, you’re gonna need to run. A lot. Without the proper shoes, evading a psycho killer can be quite exhausting.

4. Randy Orton! Yes, the wrestler. I can’ think of anyone I’d rather have in my corner than a guy who can hit an RKO out of nowhere and drive your assailant’s face into the ground. Of course you’ll have to make sure he’s well-fed and keeps up his workout regimen so when it’s time to fight, you can call on him.


5. A reliable spell-book to send any pea-soup vomiting demons back to the pit they crawled out of. The older and more beat-up the better. Bonus points if the book is also bound in human flesh. Be careful though, the wrong spell or the right spell uttered incorrectly can make things a lot worse. Bottom line, regardless of what you have in your crate, know your stuff.


Guest Post by Horror Author Glenn Rolfe

Please give a warm welcome to friend and fellow horror scribe, Glenn Rolfe. You may remember my interview with him a few months back. Today he’s here to talk about the joys of the Halloween season and his brand new werewolf novel, BLOOD AND RAIN.



This month, Samhain Publishing released my werewolf novel, Blood and Rain. I cannot express how cool it is to have this baby come out in October. I mean, this is the month of all months, right? Halloween? So cool.


For most of us horror guys and gals, we like to delve into the dark side any time of year, but for the majority of the people out there, October is the perfect season for scary reading. It’s when your aunt Mae puts down her Patricia Cromwell or Janet Evanovich novels and reaches for the Dean Koontz book in the dark corner of the bookshelf. It’s when Uncle Eddy sets Robert Parker to the side and dives into Pet Sematary. If Eddy or Mae are feeling especially wicked, and maybe they happened upon a copy of Ketchum’s Off Season or Laymon’s The Cellar at the Goodwill this summer, maybe they brave the unrelenting horror waiting within those yellowed paperback pages. Any way you slice it, they’re in for a treat.


In Blood and Rain, I take a small town sheriff and pit him against one helluva monster. There’s no cute love story. There’s no conflicted beast trying to decide whether or not to give into its primal urges. There are no perfect people. And if you think everyone is coming out of the next full moon alive and well? You will be in for s surprise. This is a mean machine of a novel that decided to treat like a trail of gasoline–open page one, drop the match, and get ready for this story to fucking burn.

What would Mae or Eddy think if they stumbled across my book? Well, that’s the other thing. While it is definitely a horror novel, I want it to be that next book in the dark end of the bookshelf at your aunt and uncles. These characters are real. Their flaws are flaws that we all have. The town could be any small town you’ve lived in or passed through. Gilson Creek, Maine is like a mash-up of Farmingdale, Gardiner, and Augusta, the places I grew up. I hope in writing my people and the places the way that I have it will make them and my story accessible to any fiction fan out there. Even Mae or Eddy. But definitely you and me.


There are a lot of horror books out there today (and a lot of GREAT ones this year in particular). I hope whether you’re a full-time fan of horror fiction or just a once and a while spook-seeker, you’ll give Blood and Rain a chance to scare the hell out of you. Happy October reading!


Glenn’s Amazon Page

Glenn’s Samhain Page

We Are the Accused

Here’s a little tease from the piece I’m working on:

“He raised his head and inhaled, pulling the mist inside. These moments, when he devoured pestilential entities, were the only times he saw God: an entity of blood and fire, a churning chaos of creation and destruction, but so fucking beautiful. Euphoria washed over him. Full body orgasms throbbed through him a hundred times a minute. He ate and ate, gulping down flesh and ether. He consumed the man in black until only a wet gaping hole remained in place of his enemy’s throat and chest. When he finished, he wailed, unsure if he cried in pleasure, fear or shame. Perhaps all three.”

Weirdo Wednesday

Lately, I’ve been posting very short stories as statuses on Facebook. Some of them are true, some of them are not. I’ve been doing it every Wednesday, and I’m thinking I may do it here as well, in the interest of keeping them in a more permanent location.

Here are the most recent two:

For a very brief period, I lived in a small Texas town called Tyler. One night, a UFO landed somewhere in the rural outskirts. To fit in with the locals, I joined them in a pickup truck to go searching for it. We drove down dark, winding, unpaved roads, our search fruitless. At one point, the driver turned to me and said, anything happens there’s a shotgun at your feet. Indeed there was, but I’ve never fired a gun before, and all I could think about was how I kissed Jean goodbye and promised to come back, but I didn’t know if I would. What kind of movie was this? In some films, the dude with the love interest survives. In others, he’s killed for dramatic effect. What kind of movie was this. Was this the kind where aliens exist? Or was this the kind where my newly acquired redneck friends lure me into the wilderness and chop me into chili?


I once submitted a story to a “for the love” market where they promised payment in exposure.

“I love attention!” I thought and enthusiastically awaited their response.

Three months later a helicopter landed on the roof of my house and a voice over a bullhorn said, “We’re pleased to announce that we will accept your story for publication. Are you prepared for the exposure we offer?”

“I love attention,” I thought and climbed aboard.

We flew over a desert wasteland where they handed me a canteen and threw me to the nearest dune. There I wandered, confused, scared, parched.

I drank from the canteen. Vodka.

Hours later I was drunk, hot, and lying in a pool of sweat, fully exposed to the wrath of Ra.

“I love attention,” I slurred as Ra came down from heaven, arms and eyes aflame. Then, “K-kill muh-me…”

Interview with Cult/Bizarro Author Robert Devereaux


I’m delighted to have the awesome author Robert Devereaux on my blog this month. He’s the author of a series of very strange novels featuring Santa Claus, as well as Slaughterhouse High, Deadweight, and Walking Wounded. I first met him at World Horror in Portland where we did a panel on erotica and romance in the horror genre. I instantly found him knowledgeable and friendly; he’s also quite the novelist to boot. Check out the interview below.

LUCAS MANGUM: Your novels have appeared in what are arguably the most important horror imprints of the last 2 decades (Dell/Abyss, Leisure, Deadite). What are some of the biggest changes you’ve noticed in the genre over the years?

ROBERT DEVEREAUX I’ve fallen away from horror over the past many years. I’m grateful to have made my debut there, though I’ve been pigeonholed as a horror writer because my first published novels (not the first ones I wrote), Deadweight and Walking Wounded, clearly belong there. These days, my writerly passions take me less and less into the dark regions of the human psyche. They are in fact quite wide-ranging. I offer in evidence my Santa Claus novels which—though troubling in some passages—aren’t horror novels at all. Call them instead novels of the fantastic, if labels there must be. So in answer to your question, I’ve been paying little attention to changes in the horror genre as such and so am ill-equipped to give a useful response.


LM: Your work, particularly the Santa novels, was ahead of its time in a lot of ways. Now with the advent of Bizarro over the last decade, has it gotten easier to place pieces that are more outside-the-box with respect to genre?

RD: It has. Mainstream publishers tend to reject books that straddle genres, because they present a problem about bookstore section placement and can therefore be a hard sell from sales reps to bookstores. Two novels I had been unable to place at Dell or Leisure found a place at Deadite Press, those being Slaughterhouse High (at one time called Ice Ghoul Daze) and Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes. With the advent of e-book publishing and POD, I have also chosen to focus on self-publishing as well as small presses, and I expect to start releasing original works within a year or two on a regular basis, both fiction and non-fiction. I don’t plan to be pursuing agents or editors in the mainstream houses, preferring to focus on creating and polishing new works and bringing them to my readers straightaway, either through small presses or via a publishing company of my own.

LM: At the 2014 World Horror Con, you and I did a panel on Romance and Eroticism in Horror. What are some examples of this crossover between the erotic and the horrific which have been most effective? Why do you think horror and erotica can work so well together?

RD: What immediately springs to mind are two ghost tales, Henry James’ novella The Turn of the Screw and Shirley Jackson’s novel The Haunting of Hill House. Both books feature repressed female characters, whose repressions cast doubt on their perception of supernatural phenomena. In the ideal, the realm of erotic connection ought to bring out the most intimate, the most tender way two or more people can relate to one another. It’s also then a realm of potential violation of the most damaging sort, setting up vast disturbances at the intimate ground of our being.


LM: Who are some authors who inspired your earlier work? Who are some authors that continue to inspire you?

RD: For earlier works in horror, my inspirations were Stephen King, Clive Barker, and the splatterpunk authors, specifically Rex Miller, David Schow, Richard Laymon, John Skipp, and Craig Spector. But I have always loved gifted, quirky writers, so let’s add into the mix Vladimir Nabokov, Tom Robbins, John Irving, Nicholson Baker, and Terry Southern. These days, I read more non-fiction than fiction, but distinctive writing of any kind always thrills me.

LM: Do you have a favorite of all your novels?

RD: Not a favorite exactly, since all my babies come into the world as fully-limbed and perfect as I can make them. But if anyone asks which novel to begin with, I usually suggest Santa Steps Out: A Fairy Tale for Grownups, a book that takes no prisoners, speaks truth about the three nocturnal creatures we allow into our homes, and pays due homage to the Greek mythology near and dear to my heart.


LM: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

RD: When receiving feedback, either in a workshop setting or from your editor, ponder the changes suggested, give them due weight, then make only those that truly resonate with your desires. Push back on changes you disagree with. Be sure—and this can be difficult—to separate sheer ego stubbornness from standing firm for the integrity of your narrative.

LM: What’s a fun, little-known fact about yourself you’d like readers to know?

RD: I am a trained clit stroker. I’ve been stroking clit for more than two years, thanks to a practice called Orgasmic Meditation. I trained in Boulder and now OM with a number of women who come to my home on a somewhat regular basis. Now, from the outside, this practice may strike one as odd and as most definitely sexual in nature. But in fact, while the stroker and strokee are playing with sexual energy, they are not “having sex” in the understood sense. The fifteen-minute practice is without a goal, beyond narrative, beyond the commercial model of male-female interaction. The partners focus on the point of connection, moment by moment. That alone. It becomes a life changer, and it becomes that in every relationship of any kind one enters into. Those interested can go to www.onetaste.us to watch a video and find out if there’s an OM community near them.