Maniac Gods

Maniac Gods is the new novella from Rich Hawkins and is published by the Sinister Horror Company. I’ve been a fan of Rich’s writing since his novella Black Star, Black Sun which I read back in 2015. Since then, his output has been nothing less than impressive, including the post-apocalyptic Last Plague trilogy of novels and his bloody and visceral take on vampire lore King Carrion.

Apocalyptic themes have been a constant in Rich’s writing and such is the case with this new novella. It tells the story of Albie Samways – a typical everyman Hawkins protagonist – whose daughter Millie disappears, along with the inhabitants of the village in which she lives, victims of a bizarre cult intent on bringing about their own version of the end days. The bond between father and child is another recurring motif in Rich’s books and here, as in all the other books, it provides a profound and moving emotional core to the story, a shining light amidst the darkness which engulfs everything around it.

It takes real skill to present such tender moments and not make them saccharine and this is most certainly the case here. Throughout, the writing is of such a high standard that I honestly think this is the best thing Rich has written. Just as these moments of hope and light pluck the appropriate emotional strings, so do the moments of horror. Where some would revel in the opportunity to layer on the descriptive prose, the approach here is the polar opposite. Indeed, many of the most horrific passages read almost like lists, basic descriptions of the nightmarish scenes and characters Albie encounters. Sparse and yet poetic at the same time it’s a devastatingly effective technique. The lean, stripped prose put me in mind of Adam Nevill, the creatures here presented akin to those of that author’s imagination but also to the very best of Clive Barker in his heyday.

And what horrors… Rich has created here a memorable set of creatures, most notably the Flayed – a group whose very name leaves nothing (yet somehow everything) to the imagination – acolytes to the mysterious leader of the cult Dr Ridings, himself a wonderful creation, his features hidden behind a bronze mask.

Religion is not so much a subtext of the novella than an integral part of it. It’s notable that Ridings calls those who oppose him “infidel” –a term perhaps more closely linked to certain faiths nowadays but which is a generic term for any non-believer. A key scene plays out in the wonderfully named Red Cathedral. It’s the gods worshipped by Ridings and his followers which provide the Lovecraftian overtones to the book, ancient deities lurking in other dimensions, awaiting their chance to break through the thin places.

Maniac Gods is a story brimming with so many great ideas that it might have worked better as a novel. That said, the shorter word count brings with it a sense of frantic urgency to the narrative, resulting in a thrilling ride towards a conclusion which is as good, and effective, as everything which has gone before.

This could be the quintessential Rich Hawkins book. For those who have yet to experience his writing there could be no better starting place. For those already familiar with his work, Maniac Gods will bring a warm tingle of recognition, and a new appreciation of his talent. At the very least, it should cement his reputation as one of the best writers currently working in the horror genre.

King Carrion.

King Carrion is the new novella from Rich Hawkins and is published by The Sinister HorrorCompany. Both author and publisher are on a bit of a roll at the moment with a veritable flood of literary delights washing over the horror landscape. It’s often the case that quantity is inversely proportional to quality but that certainly isn’t the case for Sinister Horror – who are producing some top-notch books – or Rich himself who continues a run of consistently entertaining horror stories with this novella, his take on vampire lore.

The novella opens with a deeply atmospheric prologue set in 49 AD Northern England. It’s a stunning opening to the book which I loved every moment of. There’s much dramatic imagery on display here, and some lovely prose. I loved the line “The wind mourned the loss of another day.” The opening sets the scene brilliantly, and introduces the titular character, a creature of darkness – its face hidden behind swaddled rags, tainted with the smell of death and corruption…

All jolly stuff then, and topped up with a multiple sacrifice. The Romans are coming however, and amongst the many things they did for us was to attempt to wipe out pagan beliefs in their occupied territories and so it is that King Carrion makes his escape, hiding away from the world until the time is right to emerge once again and claim dominion.

It’s a great prologue, and I wish it could have gone on longer but, no sooner is the page turned than we’re transported to the modern day. Enter Mason, an archetypal Hawkins protagonist, a man of sorrows, just released from prison after serving time for causing a fatal road accident. Mason is haunted by the accident, those terrors manifesting themselves in the form of the Dead Girl, the innocent victim of his crime.

Mason’s journey back to see his wife lead him to a town in southern England – at precisely the same time that King Carrion has returned from his self-imposed exile. Cue much gory action and suspense as KC (and his moonshine band) run riot through the streets, converting the populace to vampires.

Nothing sparkles here except the prose; these vampires are vicious, feral beasts who revel in the death and destruction they bring about. These are definitely at the 30 Days of Night end of the vampire spectrum.

There are few who can write an action set-piece better than Rich and he has a field day here, describing the numerous battles with the vampire horde. What makes him an even better writer is that he can handle the quitter stuff with aplomb too. There’s proper emotion going on here amidst the gore.

All things of course lead to a climactic encounter with King Carrion himself at the vampire’s vividly described lair…

I loved King Carrion, a great example of old-school horror delivered with style and gusto. My one criticism of the book is that – as with the prologue – it’s too short. This criticism is two-fold; firstly for selfish reasons – I wanted to spend more time enjoying the book, but secondly because I think the material required a longer form, there’s enough going on here to fill a novel easily.

There’s a scene where Mason glimpses a vision of King Carrion’s past life and experiences which cried out for more detail and, as mentioned earlier, the prologue could easily have been extended. Cramming so much into a novella-length book certainly moves the story along at a cracking pace but the world Rich has created here is one I think would definitely benefit from a higher word count.

This minor quibble aside, I really do recommend that you check this novella out. You’ll have a blast and at the same time enjoy the writing of one of the future stars of the horror writing world. Rich already has an impressive back catalogue and I’m certain this is indicative of great things ahead.

You can buy King Carrion here.

Fallen Soldier

Fallen Soldier is a new short story by Rich Hawkins and is published by… himself. Yes indeed, Rich has taken the plunge and gone and done the whole thing himself, no doubt incurring the wrath of all those who see self-publishing as the eighth deadly sin.

There is still a stigma attached to self-publishing, presumably as a result of the misguided opinion that an author will take this route because their work isn’t good enough to be accepted by “real” publishers. Bollocks, frankly. It’s interesting to compare the attitudes towards self-publishing between the music and writing industries. In the former, there’s a degree of kudos given to musicians who start off on their own, posting videos they’ve made themselves online, building up a fanbase before “making it big”. If you’re a writer doing the same thing the immediate assumption is often the one I opened this paragraph with.

 

Bottom line: What’s wrong with an author taking charge of all aspects of their own work?

Anyway, I digress. What about Fallen Soldier?

It’s great. I’ve expressed the opinion before that the novella is the perfect length for horror fiction, a view I stand by, but second in line has to be the short story. It’ll take you about twenty minutes to read Fallen Soldier but in that time you’ll experience ghosts, zombies and demonic troglodytes all tied up in a tightly paced narrative. There’s nothing worse than a short story that outstays its welcome but that most certainly isn’t the case here in this tale of the return of a soldier from the trenches of the Great War to find that the horrors he experienced there are nothing compared to those which await him on his arrival home.

The single short story format is making somewhat of a resurgence and it’s an absolute strength and positive of e-publishing that it makes this a readily available option. That said, great things are being done by small presses releasing chapbooks too. It’s a trend I’m extremely happy to see emerging, already this year I’ve relished two stories from Philip Fracassi (Mother and Altar) and one from Scott Nicolay (Noctuidae) which have been released as “singles”. Fallen Soldier – I’m very happy to say – has joined their ranks.

You should buy Fallen Soldier, you won’t find much better value for money for 99p. If you haven’t read Rich’s work before then it’s a great introduction, if you have then you’ll enjoy again his trademark mixture of visceral horror and thoughtful characterisation.

You can get it here.

The Last Soldier

The Last Soldier is the new novel from Rich Hawkins and is the final book in the Last Plague trilogy published by Crowded Quarantine Publications. The first two books in the series were outstanding with the The Last Plague followed up by the smaller scale, more introspective but vastly darker The Last Outpost and that incredibly high standard is more than maintained in this, the conclusion. The Last Soldier is proof indeed that all good things must come to an end.

It’s set a year after the events of The Last Outpost which described the aftermath of the outbreak of the titular plague whose victims transformed into Lovecraftian monstrosities, consumed by the desire for human flesh. That book ended with a journey from Britain to Scandinavia, the location of the fabled outpost. In contrast, The Last Soldier begins with a return to British shores, the journey taken by Morse – the soldier of the title, a man who has seen active duty in Northern Ireland – and Florence, a young girl who may, or may not be, the key to a fightback against the hordes of infected and the Plague Gods, huge cosmic horrors circling in the skies above the ravaged landscape.

 The Britain they return to is changed completely from pre-plague times with uninfected humans now absolutely in the minority and a sense of some kind of evolution of the infected into bigger, even more deadly manifestations. There’s also evidence of interaction between humans and the infected, exemplified in a particularly chilling set-piece involving a pit and which provides further evidence that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Given that the story is set in a bleak, post-apocalyptic word it’s natural that Rich should choose to set most of the action in my home county of Northumberland. Some of the place names he uses will raise a smile amongst those familiar with indie press horror but I was pleased to see that he obviously like the name of a real place – Black Heddon – as much as I do, using it for a key scene.

So, given this is the culmination of the series, the big question is – does the ending work? Is it worthy of the exemplary ground work that has preceded it? Is it a fitting conclusion?

Absolutely.

No spoilers here but honestly, the way this epic story ends, and in particular the way in which Rich chooses to handle it, is perfect. It works with all that has gone before and is eminently satisfying.

I enjoyed the hell out of The Last Soldier – as I did the first two books of the series – and can’t recommend it highly enough. Rich has created a truly spectacular, and entirely plausible and brilliantly realised, post—apocalyptic vision here. The characters he has placed within his world are real and believable and perfect vehicles for the theme of humanity which runs throughout the series. By choosing to tell an epic, world-altering story through the filter of individual experiences is a technique that has worked brilliantly throughout, no more so than in this final instalment. The trilogy may be complete now but it’s a world that deserves revisiting, something I sincerely hope he finds time for.

The Last Outpost.

The Last Outpost is the new novel by Rich Hawkins and is the sequel to The Last Plague. Both books are published by Crowded Quarantine Publications.. I read The Last Plague having been introduced to Rich’s writing via his novella Black Star Black Sun and thoroughly enjoyed this particular take on the apocalypse, an end of the world scenario which merged Lovecraft and zombie tropes in spectacular fashion, producing a novel which has rightly been nominated for a British Fantasy award.

The first novel described the apocalypse itself, the moment when (possibly) the stars were right and the titular plague ravaged humanity, turning its victims into ravening hordes of monsters – the “infected” – human beings metamorphosed into horrifying shapes and forms with an insatiable blood-lust. Although focussing in on a small group of characters, the novel was epic in scale, full of marvellously executed set-pieces and horrifying imagery.

The Last Outpost takes up the story not long after the events of the first book are over and as such, is more concerned with the aftermath of the plague. Whilst the first book was an action-packed rollercoaster ride (© reviewer’s clichés) this is a more sedate piece of writing, introspective even, almost a stream of consciousness from the character of Royce, a survivor of the plague, now wandering alone through the ravaged countryside.

There’s much existential angst going on here, with Royce having to come to terms with the new world he finds himself in as well as the death of his wife and daughter. This is bleak stuff but credit is due to Rich for taking this path and also for the quality of the writing on display here. In effect, it’s an extended soliloquy but one that’s full of real emotion, the writing spot-on, poetic in parts.

The bleakness conveyed in Royce’s inner monologue draws favourable comparison to Cormac McCarthy’s The Road conjuring up similar feelings of desolation and despair as that classic book and, like The Road, an encounter with other survivors provides a pivotal moment in the book. There’s a change in tone about halfway through The Last Outpost where a set-piece within a house provides one of the most intense passages of horror writing I’ve come across in a while.

The second half of the book provides more action and introduces more characters but the overarching feeling of despair is never lost, lurks constantly in the background. The title of the book comes from rumours of a settlement of survivors on the other side of the North Sea, the journey towards which provides the main narrative thrust of the story but it’s the characters who count here, Royce himself, George – an elderly man he meets on the way and Amy, pregnant and so fighting for the survival of her unborn child as well as her own.

It’s the journey that’s important though, not the destination and quite a journey it is too. Rich has created an entirely believable world here, one in which the horrors come from not only the infected, and the mighty Titans which swoop through the skies above but from the darkness that lies within all of us. The book does however end on a note of optimism, hope even – made even more profound by the events leading up to (and especially immediately before) it.

The second of a trilogy is always regarded as the darkest and that’s certainly the case here. Bleak and nihilistic but beautifully written The Last Outpost is a book I highly recommend and I look forward with great anticipation to whatever happens next…

Black Star, Black Sun.

Black Star, Black Sun is a new novella from Rich Hawkins and is published by April Moon Books. It's my first encounter with the author (although I do have The Last Plague lurking on the kindle, waiting to be opened) but, if all his other work is as good as this, then it certainly won't be the last. I really enjoyed Black Star, Black Sun and was impressed by the writing as well as the plot and structure.
The story concerns the return of Ben Ottway to his childhood home of Marchwood. Ben is a broken man, still recovering from the disappearance of his wife, that trauma manifesting itself as a desire to self-harm. The visit home should help in his recovery, a chance to reconnect with happier times, with his elderly father - himself a widower - who still lives in the village.
Perhaps if the novella had been called Shiny Star, Bright Sun this would all go to plan and Ben would find both himself and some closure, undergo a profoundly moving reunion with his father and look forward to a new life. But it's not.
Soon the nightmares begin - of a desolate world filled with terrifying creatures - and it's not long before the lines are blurring between dreams and reality. Rich does a great job here, slowly increasing the sense of paranoia, gradually introducing the weirdness, building to a climax that's earth-shatteringly effective.
It's all very Lovecraftian of course, the horror is definitely cosmic but the author uses these well worn tropes and ideas in a way that breathes new life into them. He strikes the perfect balance between familiarity with the themes and bringing something original to the story. I did smile at the line "the stars were wrong."
The small town location works very well indeed - why shouldn't the end of the world begin somewhere insignificant? - with the characters Ben encounters, and their interactions, drawn perfectly. It's the descriptions of the mundane (the Roy Orbison CDs in the local store, the paperbacks with lurid covers by authors no one has ever heard of) that ground the story in reality and which makes the other-worldly horrors seem even more effective. The imagery Rich employs in the nightmare sequences is wonderfully unsettling.
The small community setting perhaps stretches credulity a wee bit too much with the character of Doyle - who has experienced a previous encroachment by the Black Sun - happening to live in Marchwood too but this is a minor criticism. Exposition's always a tricky one to pull off and it's handled skilfully enough by the author that it doesn't come across as clunky.
The ending is epic and perfectly suits all that has gone before. It's again testament to the author's skill that Ben's backstory is used here but not in the clichéd way that might have been expected.
Black Star, Black Sun is a great little novella. Atmospheric and unsettling, it packs a great deal into its relatively short word count. I recommend it highly. You can buy it here.