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Occult Detective Quarterly #1
Occult Detective Quarterly #1
Mysteries, hauntings and strange encounters. Now available for the first time on Amazon - the launch issue of OCCULT DETECTIVE QUARTERLY, the finest and most intriguing stories of those who investigate the strange, the supernatural and the occult. Great fiction from new and established names, including Willie Meikle, Adrian Cole, Amanda DeWees and Joshua M Reynolds. Includes the striking and dark novelette 'Monochrome' by Ted E Grau, Tim Prasil's 'How to be a Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In 5 Easy Steps), and interior illustrations by top artists. Plus reviews, and an interview with legendary creator of Dr Spektor, Don F Glut.
“Exceeded my expectations in virtually every way. We are witnessing the birth of a major fantasy magazine.” (Black Gate).
“...A colourful, entertaining, informative magazine… I would actually recommend this magazine to anyone with an interest in supernatural tales or indeed detective fiction.” (Ginger Nuts of Horror).
“Exceeded my expectations in virtually every way. We are witnessing the birth of a major fantasy magazine.” (Black Gate).
“...A colourful, entertaining, informative magazine… I would actually recommend this magazine to anyone with an interest in supernatural tales or indeed detective fiction.” (Ginger Nuts of Horror).
224 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2016
About the author
David T. Wilbanks
11 books30 followersDavid T. Wilbanks is a writer, editor and publisher. His short stories have appeared in Horror Drive-In and Postscripts among other publications. He and Mark Justice write the DEAD EARTH series which is on its third book, SANCTUARY. Be sure to check out his website for more. David lives in Minnesota with his wife.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
February 9, 2017
Sometimes you wonder if you have something special on your hands—something that will be, if not famous, then at least a name to conjure with in the right haunts. Occult Detective Quarterly #1, edited by John Linwood Grant and Sam Gafford, is just that sort of magazine.
For my own bottle of champagne smashed against the hull, this review will look at every piece of fiction in some depth, and peel back the layers of this excellent first issue.
My particular favorites were those by David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle, Amanda DeWees, Josh Reynolds, and Aaron Vlek—all of whom turn in outstanding stories.
Got My Mojo Working – David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle
Gus is an occult detective.
Gus, in the fine occult detective tradition, could be played by Humphrey Bogart.
Gus, in the fine occult detective tradition (as played by Humphrey Bogart), needs his booze, needs his “cigarettes” (his yellows, here), and needs his wiseacre narration as he encounters a bevvy of dames and weaker men.
Gus, I hasten to add, is a gorilla.
Yes, really.
It’s a lot of fun. That’s the word Wilbanks and Meikle worked for, and they earned it.
As someone who loved Agent of Atlas’ Gorilla Man to no end, this story was perfect.
What hurts the story is the plot’s intense tradition. If you’ve read almost any dozen occult detective stories, you’ve seen this plot a dozen times. I’d imagine the authors did this for something familiar for readers to cling to, given the protagonist, but it’s the one weak point in an otherwise outstanding tale.
The way Gus finally deals with the occult menace is fresh, but it needed some ramifications to sell itself. For something so apparently big, there’s no consequence. Hopefully future stories will play with what happens if you even try to dispose of a demon that way.
When Soft Voices Die – Amanda DeWees
DeWees turns in a “traditional” sort of Gothic.
But where Wilbanks and Meikle’s story stumbled a bit thanks to the traditional trappings, DeWees wisely adds to the proceedings: how the ghosts leads on our protagonist is new, and the cast’s characterization is used to cover any over-familiar spots in the proceedings.
It’s quite a remarkable little story, and one of the highlights of the issue. I won’t spoil it, but I do have one glowing compliment to give:
DeWees knows her history. I don’t have words for how much I appreciate that. She realizes that while Victorian England was rather blasé about unmarried women—even actresses—rooming wherever, and that English attitudes toward sex were rather lax, Victorian east-coast Americans were more intense, insanely prudish than the ahistorical notions about Victorian English sexuality ever imply. Finding an author who’s done her homework, instead of relying on unresearched cliché, is thrilling.
I hadn’t been aware of Amanda DeWees before. Now, I’m impressed; she’s a talented writer, and I need to buy some of her books when I have a chance. She’s someone I would love to publish.
“Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You” – Adrian Cole
This is the latest story in the long-running Nick Nightmare series. A fan of the series will probably feel very differently about this story than I did. Me? Mostly, I just have questions…
Was Arabella a recurring character in the series? Is her ending something that I should be emotional over, or is she only in this story? Why can’t the bad guy’s magic be reversed? What, exactly, is Pulpworld? How does magic work in this universe?
As someone who encountered this series for the first time, I’m a bit confused. It’s not a bad story by any means, but having answers for the first three questions provided for new readers would go a long way toward helping my enjoyment.
It’s well written. The characters are well delineated, and interact well. The plot has quite a bit of promise.
I only didn’t have enough details to immerse in this world.
“Orbis Tertius” – Josh Reynolds
Josh Reynolds is remarkably reliable.
I don’t mean that in the insulting sense it’s so often used, where “remarkable” implies “workmanlike” which implies a cuss, or where “reliable” is another way to say “tired.”
I mean it in a personal sense. I’ve yet to read something of Reynolds’ I dislike. There are stories I, personally, like less, because the elements are less personally appealing to me. But those stories are by no means weaker, and by no means less enjoyed by me.
Remarkably reliable. Reynolds knows how to tell a tale.
“Orbis Tertius” is a story where every element greatly appeals to me. Borges? Adventurers’ clubs? Mind viruses? Some toying with form and format?
It helps that St. Cyprian and Gallowglass are so well developed. They’re among the most meaningfully well-developed occult detectives—which is to say that while we don’t have many hard facts on their lives, their personalities and attitudes are so actively developed that there’s no mistaking them, and no losing them in the crowd. To use the same word again, they’re remarkably like Holmes and Watson in that way. We don’t need hard details to pretend they’re people; St. Cyprian and Gallowglass as alive as our own friends.
There’s no mistaking St. Cyprian and Gallowglass for anyone else in their genre, and Reynolds’ stories are all the richer for it.
“MonoChrome” – T.E. Grau
I’m going to spend quite a bit of time on constructive criticism for this story. I’ve noticed some other reviews note that this is the story that didn’t work for them, and I’d like to take a peek at why that might be the case—and why this story seems to be the odd man out.
It’s probably worth noting my criticisms don’t come from a place of “I don’t like stories of this sort told in this style”—Grau reminds me quite a bit of Hannah Lackoff, or an early Neil Gaiman, who are two of my favorite authors. With revision, he can begin to reach for their heights.
“Monochrome,” despite some good ideas, has serious issues holding back.
The most immediately apparent issue is striking, but the least of “Monochrome’s” problems: you could cut this story down by more than half, and miss none of its essential beats. It’s a slim story floating in a sea of “extraneous stuff.” We’re starting here because the fact this is a problem is symptom of the story’s actual problems.
The pace is glacial, and the glaciers the story chips through are massive. Development of character, plot, or world is slow in coming, and small when it arrives.
I’d like to compare “MonoChrome’s” pacing and development issues to an 18thWall release. This isn’t because I published it, but because A) I’m familiar with its contents and, more importantly, B) its already won awards. When I say this author know what she’s doing, it’s not merely my word backing it up.
M.H. Norris’ The Whole Art of Detection has quite a few scenes that could be considered extraneous. We could easily cut the prologue, and we could easily cut Dr. Baynes’ speech, and we could very easily cut most of her conversations with friends or colleges, and many of her interrogations could be trimmed to the quick. I’m sure, in a mad dash for story-only, you could cut 40-60% of the novel. However, I guarantee you that version would not have placed fourth in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll; I’m sure it wouldn’t even have been nominated, except by a slip of the hand. That space is needed to develop and build the characters, establish the world, and sell the reader’s interest in the story itself.
Character-building, which is another way to say empathy-building, is necessary.
“Monochrome” doesn’t really do this. After reading the story twice I can’t tell you a meaningful thing about the protagonist; and, even, I had to check the story to remind myself of their name. So much of the character work is attempted in the prose rather than established in conversation or action, which leads us to the core problem…
It breaks my heart that what could be good character-building is flatly told to us. He’s afraid of what could happen when the victims’ names are released. He has few joys left in life, but covering chaos. He thinks rich people are the same as gangbangers. All of these things which should be embedded in the character—as we saw with Norris’ novel—and could be meaningful, are flatly (and briefly) listed in the prose before the author goes back to the sea of words. It wouldn’t change the character or our perception of him if they were embedded in the story itself, however; it’s the thin facts of characterization, the “so-and-so likes M&Ms, but hates Twix” sort. Except in this case “so-and-so likes writing about chaos, but hates rich people.”
Grau hasn’t mastered, and doesn’t attempt, the sort of abiding character-development that Reynolds and DeWees excel at. Put any other characters in their stories, and the story fundamentally changes. Put almost any other character into the place of Grau’s protagonist, and the only thing that changes is the surface likes and dislikes. The story runs the same course. His protagonist is surface deep, which hurts a novella-length story.
The best bit of character building—one of the rare spots where the prose, dialogue, and characterization work hand-in-hand to approach that sort of abiding characterization—is when the protagonist reveals what a jerk he is about there being a new out-of-town bartender in “his” bar. It’s a great moment. It’s the one time the protagonist’s instability and nature comes out through the story, and it’s a moment no other protagonist would have captured. The story needed much more of this.
So much of the above would be forgivable if it were written well. I don’t mean “so much of this would be forgivable if it were written with the pose and grace of Edgar Allan Poe on a bender,” but rather, I mean: “so much of this would be forgivable if it were written clearly, cleanly, and with a sense for the reader.”
That last point is important. Grau does not write with the reader in mind. Run-on sentences run rampant. Sentences lack a defining goal, or sometimes even a subject. Many sentences are what should be three or four distinct sentences all strung together, occasionally without even so much as a comma.
The author tries to set a sense of pace, and a quirky character viewpoint. We’re told of cinderblock heads and other unusual images in long, thick streams. But, ultimately, the reader becomes lost in the verbage.
Does it set mood? Setting mood may not tell us anything, and often does not sell character, but it certainly has a place in horror and dark fantasy; it’s vital, and it’s necessary, and it can take up quite a few words.
I suppose some of it sets mood. The second through fourth pages of the story are almost exclusively attempts to set the mood, and inform the reader that LA is a horrifying mess. But there’s something unbalanced in a story when that much time is spent developing a mood, especially though thick paragraphs with run-on sentences and few defining images, without telling us a word about any of the necessary ways to interest a reader. It’s like reading worldbuilding without the world or characters to hang it on, or static mood—and mood needs momentum to set in. At times, it’s more of an essay on LA than a story.
So what are all of these words doing here?
Let’s talk about one of the best, and most heartbreaking, pieces of writing advice I’ve ever received.
Once upon a time, when I was very young and very, very stupid, I spent a week on five thousand words. Every sentence had to be mood and poetry and something NEW. Every sentence had to be perfect. Five thousand words of it. Heaven help me. They read it—all of it—out loud. Heaven help them. The reader turned to me, and said, “That’s a bit much dark chocolate. It’s too rich. We need cake bits to get it down.”
Young, innocent James was crushed. Old, cane-waving James thinks it’s probably the best bit of advice he got at that point in his career.
While I would say “dark chocolate” is an overestimation for both my and Grau’s stories (we are neither Ray Bradbury), I think the comparison is clear.
Occasionally Grau hits on a gorgeous line—“he liked this time of day, when the sun gave up…”—but the dark chocolate effect sets in, burying the flash of light under comparisons of buildings to pimps, a lake called “the broken promise of the eighteenth century,” a meditation on how the diamond-shine of old Hollywood gave way to pale, eyes that were every color except purple or red, or any of several dozen other attempted confections in the space of about three or four hundred words.
I actually pulled that from a single, particularly story-rich page, where we meet presumed cultists and learn about the victims. A several hundred word stretch, with that much storytelling ground to cover, and we’re still trapped in a dark chocolate bakery without learning anything meaningful about the characters, the world, or even the story itself. We learn nothing about how the protagonist reacts to either of these things; and only a little bit about how the world twines with these elements. The paragraphs with story are almost entirely separate from the paragraphs with mood. All of which means that we essentially just have two blocks of story, untempered by character or world or mood, sitting in the sea of attempted mood. All of which gives the story the feel of jerking back and forth on the gear-shift, as spin from examining Story to Mood and back again.
The author is trying harder to write well than to tell a story well, or develop a character well, or develop the world well. “MonoChrome” suffers as a result.
The author isn’t a poor writer. He could write excellent stories.
He only needs to learn that characters and story come first, the joys of dark chocolate writing second—and in their own way. Grau shows promise.
“Baron of Bourbon Street” – Aaron Vlek
Aaron Vlek is another writer who is entirely new to me. “Baron of Bourbon Street,” however, is the kind of story that convinces you to quickly check for an author’s other work. The case is creative, the characters are well-drawn and fresh, and the writing stands at a consistently high level. The creativity never ends.
Vlek’s use of Baron Samedi is perfect, and it’s great to see someone not only turn in a “voodoo” story, but turn in one that’s done its homework and turns everything to its own effective. I could write a few dozen words on the brilliance of making the Baron one half of an occult detective team, but that would be telling.
Vlek is another author I’d love to publish. She knows what she’s doing.
“The Adventure of the Black Dog” – Oscar Dowson
There’s no meaningful character development, there’s no tension (and, in the end, we discover there was no need for anyone to even begin to feel tense), and there’s no development of the world or magic system. The Holmesian references felt unnecessary: the story doesn’t gain anything with an Edwardian, ersatz Watson and magician Holmes, it’s simply a curious addition to the writing that’s unearned and gets in the way of Dowson’s magical recruitment story.
This is my biggest problem. Dowson writes well, the haunt is unique, and what light touches of characterization bubble up are handled well. But at no point is there, properly, a story with a beginning, middle, and end—it’s as though we’ve just read the establishing prologue of a novel, with elements set up, and then we’re left this prologue as though it stands alone. It’s not only as though we’ve read the first chapter of A Study in Scarlet as if it were a standalone, it’s as though we’ve read it and felt Holmes’ presence was entirely unnecessary.
I’d like to see more of Dowson’s writing, however. He shows promise as an author.
Occult Legion: “The Nest” – William Meikle
William Meikle is a master of three things:
1) Storytelling,
2) Occult detection,
3) Weaving his stories into a single, cohesive world.
The first chapter of this occult detective round robin novel won’t do anything to change that perception. I look forward to seeing how future authors continue the tale.
Sundry
Tim Prasil’s “How to be a Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In Five Easy Steps)” is a charming piece about the occult detective forbears, and the oddities of their tropes. It’s the standout article.
Charles R. Rutledge’s Doctor Spektor double-header (an overview of the comic series, and an interview with the original author) is fine enough. My tepid review has less to do with Rutledge’s work, and more to my indifference to summarizing “This thing I enjoy exists, and I will now talk about it” articles. As an argumentative person, I prefer arguments made and points fought for. If you enjoy this sort of article, you’ll find points to recommend it.
Lastly there are reviews by Dave Brzeski and yours truly, which, I flatter us to say, are uniformly excellent.
For my own bottle of champagne smashed against the hull, this review will look at every piece of fiction in some depth, and peel back the layers of this excellent first issue.
My particular favorites were those by David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle, Amanda DeWees, Josh Reynolds, and Aaron Vlek—all of whom turn in outstanding stories.
Got My Mojo Working – David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle
Gus is an occult detective.
Gus, in the fine occult detective tradition, could be played by Humphrey Bogart.
Gus, in the fine occult detective tradition (as played by Humphrey Bogart), needs his booze, needs his “cigarettes” (his yellows, here), and needs his wiseacre narration as he encounters a bevvy of dames and weaker men.
Gus, I hasten to add, is a gorilla.
Yes, really.
It’s a lot of fun. That’s the word Wilbanks and Meikle worked for, and they earned it.
As someone who loved Agent of Atlas’ Gorilla Man to no end, this story was perfect.
What hurts the story is the plot’s intense tradition. If you’ve read almost any dozen occult detective stories, you’ve seen this plot a dozen times. I’d imagine the authors did this for something familiar for readers to cling to, given the protagonist, but it’s the one weak point in an otherwise outstanding tale.
The way Gus finally deals with the occult menace is fresh, but it needed some ramifications to sell itself. For something so apparently big, there’s no consequence. Hopefully future stories will play with what happens if you even try to dispose of a demon that way.
When Soft Voices Die – Amanda DeWees
DeWees turns in a “traditional” sort of Gothic.
But where Wilbanks and Meikle’s story stumbled a bit thanks to the traditional trappings, DeWees wisely adds to the proceedings: how the ghosts leads on our protagonist is new, and the cast’s characterization is used to cover any over-familiar spots in the proceedings.
It’s quite a remarkable little story, and one of the highlights of the issue. I won’t spoil it, but I do have one glowing compliment to give:
DeWees knows her history. I don’t have words for how much I appreciate that. She realizes that while Victorian England was rather blasé about unmarried women—even actresses—rooming wherever, and that English attitudes toward sex were rather lax, Victorian east-coast Americans were more intense, insanely prudish than the ahistorical notions about Victorian English sexuality ever imply. Finding an author who’s done her homework, instead of relying on unresearched cliché, is thrilling.
I hadn’t been aware of Amanda DeWees before. Now, I’m impressed; she’s a talented writer, and I need to buy some of her books when I have a chance. She’s someone I would love to publish.
“Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You” – Adrian Cole
This is the latest story in the long-running Nick Nightmare series. A fan of the series will probably feel very differently about this story than I did. Me? Mostly, I just have questions…
Was Arabella a recurring character in the series? Is her ending something that I should be emotional over, or is she only in this story? Why can’t the bad guy’s magic be reversed? What, exactly, is Pulpworld? How does magic work in this universe?
As someone who encountered this series for the first time, I’m a bit confused. It’s not a bad story by any means, but having answers for the first three questions provided for new readers would go a long way toward helping my enjoyment.
It’s well written. The characters are well delineated, and interact well. The plot has quite a bit of promise.
I only didn’t have enough details to immerse in this world.
“Orbis Tertius” – Josh Reynolds
Josh Reynolds is remarkably reliable.
I don’t mean that in the insulting sense it’s so often used, where “remarkable” implies “workmanlike” which implies a cuss, or where “reliable” is another way to say “tired.”
I mean it in a personal sense. I’ve yet to read something of Reynolds’ I dislike. There are stories I, personally, like less, because the elements are less personally appealing to me. But those stories are by no means weaker, and by no means less enjoyed by me.
Remarkably reliable. Reynolds knows how to tell a tale.
“Orbis Tertius” is a story where every element greatly appeals to me. Borges? Adventurers’ clubs? Mind viruses? Some toying with form and format?
It helps that St. Cyprian and Gallowglass are so well developed. They’re among the most meaningfully well-developed occult detectives—which is to say that while we don’t have many hard facts on their lives, their personalities and attitudes are so actively developed that there’s no mistaking them, and no losing them in the crowd. To use the same word again, they’re remarkably like Holmes and Watson in that way. We don’t need hard details to pretend they’re people; St. Cyprian and Gallowglass as alive as our own friends.
There’s no mistaking St. Cyprian and Gallowglass for anyone else in their genre, and Reynolds’ stories are all the richer for it.
“MonoChrome” – T.E. Grau
I’m going to spend quite a bit of time on constructive criticism for this story. I’ve noticed some other reviews note that this is the story that didn’t work for them, and I’d like to take a peek at why that might be the case—and why this story seems to be the odd man out.
It’s probably worth noting my criticisms don’t come from a place of “I don’t like stories of this sort told in this style”—Grau reminds me quite a bit of Hannah Lackoff, or an early Neil Gaiman, who are two of my favorite authors. With revision, he can begin to reach for their heights.
“Monochrome,” despite some good ideas, has serious issues holding back.
The most immediately apparent issue is striking, but the least of “Monochrome’s” problems: you could cut this story down by more than half, and miss none of its essential beats. It’s a slim story floating in a sea of “extraneous stuff.” We’re starting here because the fact this is a problem is symptom of the story’s actual problems.
The pace is glacial, and the glaciers the story chips through are massive. Development of character, plot, or world is slow in coming, and small when it arrives.
I’d like to compare “MonoChrome’s” pacing and development issues to an 18thWall release. This isn’t because I published it, but because A) I’m familiar with its contents and, more importantly, B) its already won awards. When I say this author know what she’s doing, it’s not merely my word backing it up.
M.H. Norris’ The Whole Art of Detection has quite a few scenes that could be considered extraneous. We could easily cut the prologue, and we could easily cut Dr. Baynes’ speech, and we could very easily cut most of her conversations with friends or colleges, and many of her interrogations could be trimmed to the quick. I’m sure, in a mad dash for story-only, you could cut 40-60% of the novel. However, I guarantee you that version would not have placed fourth in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll; I’m sure it wouldn’t even have been nominated, except by a slip of the hand. That space is needed to develop and build the characters, establish the world, and sell the reader’s interest in the story itself.
Character-building, which is another way to say empathy-building, is necessary.
“Monochrome” doesn’t really do this. After reading the story twice I can’t tell you a meaningful thing about the protagonist; and, even, I had to check the story to remind myself of their name. So much of the character work is attempted in the prose rather than established in conversation or action, which leads us to the core problem…
It breaks my heart that what could be good character-building is flatly told to us. He’s afraid of what could happen when the victims’ names are released. He has few joys left in life, but covering chaos. He thinks rich people are the same as gangbangers. All of these things which should be embedded in the character—as we saw with Norris’ novel—and could be meaningful, are flatly (and briefly) listed in the prose before the author goes back to the sea of words. It wouldn’t change the character or our perception of him if they were embedded in the story itself, however; it’s the thin facts of characterization, the “so-and-so likes M&Ms, but hates Twix” sort. Except in this case “so-and-so likes writing about chaos, but hates rich people.”
Grau hasn’t mastered, and doesn’t attempt, the sort of abiding character-development that Reynolds and DeWees excel at. Put any other characters in their stories, and the story fundamentally changes. Put almost any other character into the place of Grau’s protagonist, and the only thing that changes is the surface likes and dislikes. The story runs the same course. His protagonist is surface deep, which hurts a novella-length story.
The best bit of character building—one of the rare spots where the prose, dialogue, and characterization work hand-in-hand to approach that sort of abiding characterization—is when the protagonist reveals what a jerk he is about there being a new out-of-town bartender in “his” bar. It’s a great moment. It’s the one time the protagonist’s instability and nature comes out through the story, and it’s a moment no other protagonist would have captured. The story needed much more of this.
So much of the above would be forgivable if it were written well. I don’t mean “so much of this would be forgivable if it were written with the pose and grace of Edgar Allan Poe on a bender,” but rather, I mean: “so much of this would be forgivable if it were written clearly, cleanly, and with a sense for the reader.”
That last point is important. Grau does not write with the reader in mind. Run-on sentences run rampant. Sentences lack a defining goal, or sometimes even a subject. Many sentences are what should be three or four distinct sentences all strung together, occasionally without even so much as a comma.
The author tries to set a sense of pace, and a quirky character viewpoint. We’re told of cinderblock heads and other unusual images in long, thick streams. But, ultimately, the reader becomes lost in the verbage.
Does it set mood? Setting mood may not tell us anything, and often does not sell character, but it certainly has a place in horror and dark fantasy; it’s vital, and it’s necessary, and it can take up quite a few words.
I suppose some of it sets mood. The second through fourth pages of the story are almost exclusively attempts to set the mood, and inform the reader that LA is a horrifying mess. But there’s something unbalanced in a story when that much time is spent developing a mood, especially though thick paragraphs with run-on sentences and few defining images, without telling us a word about any of the necessary ways to interest a reader. It’s like reading worldbuilding without the world or characters to hang it on, or static mood—and mood needs momentum to set in. At times, it’s more of an essay on LA than a story.
So what are all of these words doing here?
Let’s talk about one of the best, and most heartbreaking, pieces of writing advice I’ve ever received.
Once upon a time, when I was very young and very, very stupid, I spent a week on five thousand words. Every sentence had to be mood and poetry and something NEW. Every sentence had to be perfect. Five thousand words of it. Heaven help me. They read it—all of it—out loud. Heaven help them. The reader turned to me, and said, “That’s a bit much dark chocolate. It’s too rich. We need cake bits to get it down.”
Young, innocent James was crushed. Old, cane-waving James thinks it’s probably the best bit of advice he got at that point in his career.
While I would say “dark chocolate” is an overestimation for both my and Grau’s stories (we are neither Ray Bradbury), I think the comparison is clear.
Occasionally Grau hits on a gorgeous line—“he liked this time of day, when the sun gave up…”—but the dark chocolate effect sets in, burying the flash of light under comparisons of buildings to pimps, a lake called “the broken promise of the eighteenth century,” a meditation on how the diamond-shine of old Hollywood gave way to pale, eyes that were every color except purple or red, or any of several dozen other attempted confections in the space of about three or four hundred words.
I actually pulled that from a single, particularly story-rich page, where we meet presumed cultists and learn about the victims. A several hundred word stretch, with that much storytelling ground to cover, and we’re still trapped in a dark chocolate bakery without learning anything meaningful about the characters, the world, or even the story itself. We learn nothing about how the protagonist reacts to either of these things; and only a little bit about how the world twines with these elements. The paragraphs with story are almost entirely separate from the paragraphs with mood. All of which means that we essentially just have two blocks of story, untempered by character or world or mood, sitting in the sea of attempted mood. All of which gives the story the feel of jerking back and forth on the gear-shift, as spin from examining Story to Mood and back again.
The author is trying harder to write well than to tell a story well, or develop a character well, or develop the world well. “MonoChrome” suffers as a result.
The author isn’t a poor writer. He could write excellent stories.
He only needs to learn that characters and story come first, the joys of dark chocolate writing second—and in their own way. Grau shows promise.
“Baron of Bourbon Street” – Aaron Vlek
Aaron Vlek is another writer who is entirely new to me. “Baron of Bourbon Street,” however, is the kind of story that convinces you to quickly check for an author’s other work. The case is creative, the characters are well-drawn and fresh, and the writing stands at a consistently high level. The creativity never ends.
Vlek’s use of Baron Samedi is perfect, and it’s great to see someone not only turn in a “voodoo” story, but turn in one that’s done its homework and turns everything to its own effective. I could write a few dozen words on the brilliance of making the Baron one half of an occult detective team, but that would be telling.
Vlek is another author I’d love to publish. She knows what she’s doing.
“The Adventure of the Black Dog” – Oscar Dowson
There’s no meaningful character development, there’s no tension (and, in the end, we discover there was no need for anyone to even begin to feel tense), and there’s no development of the world or magic system. The Holmesian references felt unnecessary: the story doesn’t gain anything with an Edwardian, ersatz Watson and magician Holmes, it’s simply a curious addition to the writing that’s unearned and gets in the way of Dowson’s magical recruitment story.
This is my biggest problem. Dowson writes well, the haunt is unique, and what light touches of characterization bubble up are handled well. But at no point is there, properly, a story with a beginning, middle, and end—it’s as though we’ve just read the establishing prologue of a novel, with elements set up, and then we’re left this prologue as though it stands alone. It’s not only as though we’ve read the first chapter of A Study in Scarlet as if it were a standalone, it’s as though we’ve read it and felt Holmes’ presence was entirely unnecessary.
I’d like to see more of Dowson’s writing, however. He shows promise as an author.
Occult Legion: “The Nest” – William Meikle
William Meikle is a master of three things:
1) Storytelling,
2) Occult detection,
3) Weaving his stories into a single, cohesive world.
The first chapter of this occult detective round robin novel won’t do anything to change that perception. I look forward to seeing how future authors continue the tale.
Sundry
Tim Prasil’s “How to be a Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In Five Easy Steps)” is a charming piece about the occult detective forbears, and the oddities of their tropes. It’s the standout article.
Charles R. Rutledge’s Doctor Spektor double-header (an overview of the comic series, and an interview with the original author) is fine enough. My tepid review has less to do with Rutledge’s work, and more to my indifference to summarizing “This thing I enjoy exists, and I will now talk about it” articles. As an argumentative person, I prefer arguments made and points fought for. If you enjoy this sort of article, you’ll find points to recommend it.
Lastly there are reviews by Dave Brzeski and yours truly, which, I flatter us to say, are uniformly excellent.
February 3, 2017
Very enjoyable debut. Ghost, monsters, occult detectives of many kinds. Interviews and reviews. It's got all your Occult Detective needs!
OCCULT DETECTIVE QUARTERLY #1 delivers on its premise and promise of .. well .. occult detectives. If you don't know what classifies an "occult detective" well - they're those heroes of fiction who investigate, expose and battle the occult - whether that be ghosts or monsters, other strange happenings, strange people, stranger creatures and things beyond the ken of men. Think Carnacki, Kolchak, and a host of others.
This debut issue has a wonderful mix of haunts and fun and whimsy. How about a tough guy PI who is a talking gorilla? A vengeful ghost? Men who walk in other dimensions and faerie realms? (And, don't think we're talking about cute faeries - we mean the dark fey of old times.) Voodoo and black dogs. You will find all that and more in these pages.
Plus reviews, a history of comic occult detective Dr. Spektor, and an interview with Spektor's creator, Donald Glut.
I enjoyed all the material and strongly recommend grabbing a copy if you enjoy the wide range of the occult detective milieu.
OCCULT DETECTIVE QUARTERLY #1 delivers on its premise and promise of .. well .. occult detectives. If you don't know what classifies an "occult detective" well - they're those heroes of fiction who investigate, expose and battle the occult - whether that be ghosts or monsters, other strange happenings, strange people, stranger creatures and things beyond the ken of men. Think Carnacki, Kolchak, and a host of others.
This debut issue has a wonderful mix of haunts and fun and whimsy. How about a tough guy PI who is a talking gorilla? A vengeful ghost? Men who walk in other dimensions and faerie realms? (And, don't think we're talking about cute faeries - we mean the dark fey of old times.) Voodoo and black dogs. You will find all that and more in these pages.
Plus reviews, a history of comic occult detective Dr. Spektor, and an interview with Spektor's creator, Donald Glut.
I enjoyed all the material and strongly recommend grabbing a copy if you enjoy the wide range of the occult detective milieu.
April 26, 2017
I wasn't sure what to expect with this particular magazine, but by all measures it exceeded my expectations. Each story was written to quality prose standards, and rather than a tedious retreading of existing ghost-hunter tropes, there was a great deal of inventiveness in the settings and styles at work here. The Edwardian and Victorian eras do show up here, but we also see noir-infused 40's or 50's America, pre-modern England and Scotland, and modern day New Orleans and Los Angeles. All-in-all another impressive debut from Electric Pentacle Press.
April 3, 2019
Well this was bad. I am not normally a fan of short stories but I thought these pulp inspired ones would be at least interesting. Oh was I so wrong. Bad writing & bad plotting made this a torture to read. Avoid this one and save yourself the minutes of your life you would waste reading it.
September 12, 2019
As this is a magazine with a variety of content I shall comment on it between stories/articles.
Got My Mojo Working.
By David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle.
Well, first story is one of Gus, a private detective with a twist in that he is a gorilla. It piles on familiarity as the detective is hard drinking, hard smoking, hard talking and in general just hard. At first the fact that he is a gorilla seems somewhat ludicrous; however, as the tale goes on the detective’s simian nature comes to the fore and actually makes contextual sense. Unfortunately, there are two major issues I have with this story, one of which is the enormous spoiler given by the insertion of an excellent illustration by Wayne M Miller before the text begins in which you can clearly see what this Gorilla Grodd of gumshoes is up against. The second issue, even more important than the first, is that there’s a very big question of how a gorilla became significantly more intelligent than average, acquired the power of speech and became of all things a Private Detective. This, for me at least, is where the more interesting story lies. That is not to say that ‘Got my Mojo working’ is a bad one, it isn’t, I enjoyed the simplicity and quirkiness, but I would much rather have read an ‘origin’ type tale.
Could I see myself reading more of this character’s tales? Yes, certainly.
When Soft Voices Die.
By Amanda DeWees.
Again it is unfortunate that the illustration, this time by Robert Freeman, acts as a spoiler. Maybe it’s just me, but I would really like to see these either partly through the story, or at the end, with the latter being preferred. As to the story itself it should be a fairly straightforward and by the numbers ghost story, somewhat clichéd with the vengeful ghost theme. However, this story makes even the most familiar aspects appear fresh, it is carefully paced and to my mind at least, exhibits an elegance most modern day horror writers appear hard-pressed to emulate. Definitely a quality story.
Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You
By Adrian Cole
Nick ‘Nightmare’ Stone is another detective with a difference; in this case it’s the ability to travel to another dimension. The tightly packed narrative flows smoothly as it tells the tale of a collector of exceptional rarities who hires Nick to bring him something which is quite literally out of this world. Adrian Cole’s characters are richly rendered, with just enough detail surrounding them to allow us to know the private worlds of each, without it being intrusive. The denouement is actually quite sad yet strangely appropriate. Well worth the read. No illustration for this one.
Orbis Tertius
By Josh Reynolds
Illustration by Mutartis Boswell
Orbis tertius is something which to my mind at least reminded me very much of the essence of the Avengers TV series, that’s the John Steed and Mrs Peel version as opposed to the more recent superhero fare. As with the Avengers there’s a supernatural element and initially I was considering that the story would be a little dull and dusty but was pleasantly surprised to find it was written with a deft touch and a humorous tone. There is something seriously amiss at the Voyagers Club, and it is up to Charles St Cyprian and his relatively new charge Ebe Gallowglass to sort things out. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to comment more on the story, it would I fear give away too much, suffice to say I enjoyed it. St Cyprian and Gallowglass are well poised for many more adventures, which can only be a good thing.
Monochrome
By T. E. Grau
Illustration by Dave Felton.
This is the longest story the magazine has to offer, which is unfortunate as it was my least favourite. My reason for saying that is simple; the story seemed to me to have very little going on that required 26 pages to describe it. I cannot remember reading anything in recent years which described so many largely irrelevant things in so much detail, hardly any of which made the experience any richer for me. It’s a shame because this obviously has got a story hidden in it somewhere as the basic idea is interesting enough with certain things defying the laws of physics, strange hooded figures acting in unison et cetera. Henry Ganz is the ex-cop, ex-reporter who is now a writer/private investigator and the general hero of this story. He is very well fleshed out and believable, but for me it was just not enough. Who knows, maybe you’ll love it, this is after all just one person’s opinion, so I guess I’ll have to wait and see what other people think. I’ll probably get hate mail for saying this too, but I found Dave Felton’s illustration didn’t seem quite at home with the overall quality of the publication.
The Occult Files of Doctor Spektor.
By Charles R. Rutledge.
This is an article about the short lived comic book from Gold Key comics in the early 70s. Extremely informative, lavishly illustrated and a definite must read for anyone interested in comic books, especially those with an occult theme.
The Man Behind Dr Spektor
An Interview with Don F. Glut
By Charles R.Rutledge
In a direct follow-on from the comic book article, Charles R Rutledge talks to the man responsible for creating the comic. As a former comic book collector I found this highly interesting and definitely a worthy addition to this magazine. It would be good to see similar features included in the future.
The Baron of Bourbon Street
By Aaron Vlek
This is a lavish tail of Vodou with Baron Samedi strutting his spectral stuff in New Orleans. The story is one of deep horror which involves voodoo, zombies and betrayal told with such a natural voice that I was quickly immersed in the events and swept along by the poetry of it. Beautifully written, with excellent pace and a simple coherent plot, this for me was one of the more polished gems in this fine collection.
The Adventure Of The Black Dog
By Oscar Dowson
A simple tale well told of a Gentleman moving into a new apartment which he will be looking after in the owner’s absence, soon to be confronted by the titular black dog, which is not all as straightforward as it may look. It’s actually something of a Genesis, the black dog being the means by which the main character learns of the existence of the Tulpa and of the remarkable Dr Crow. A supernatural event becomes the catalyst for what appears to be a Sherlock Holmes/Dr Watson type relationship. Although content wise it wasn’t as powerful as some of the other stories here, it was well written, good-natured and interesting enough for me to read more of their adventures.
The Occult Legion
Chapter 1: The Nest
By William Meikle
Now we are on to the novelty. It is only fitting that a magazine such as this would have a serialised work in it, and so it is that seven writers have formed ‘The Occult Legion’. It remains to be seen whether all seven writers will contribute chapters to this story, however, the pace has already been set by the very able Willie Meikle.
Alexander Seton, by orders of the King, attends the construction site of the King’s latest castle, where the digging of the foundations has been halted by something of a supernatural nature. For readers familiar with the works of Mr Meikle you’ll no doubt know what you are in for in this first chapter as it is as Scottish as haggis with just as distinct a flavour. There is a cave beneath the foundation dig which houses something unlike the wee beasties usually offered up by tales set in Scotland, which neatly elevated the story beyond the norm. What chapter 2 will have in store for us I can’t quite readily imagine, for whatever is, I’m sure it will be handled expertly and will be well worth subscribing to.
How To Be A Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In five easy lessons).
By Tim Prasil
When you have read the stories in this magazine, and assuming that you’re not a writer, you may want to have a go at writing your own. Tim Prasil has penned a handy little guide with something of a work through of what you may need to include in your story and why. Obviously well researched, it should set your gears turning with enough practical knowledge to make a good job of whatever you choose to do with the information. Mr Prasil has read through and analysed enough Victorian fiction to be able to speak with authority on the subject. Informative, highly practical and definitely worthy of inclusion in this magazine.
As well as the above stories and articles the magazine also has advertising and reviews. I do not believe it is necessary for me to review the reviews, or indeed to point out what they are reviewing, suffice to say that the genre reviewed is similar in content.
The magazine finishes off with the biographies of the writers contained therein, as well as a thank you to the magazine’s backers from their Kickstarter campaign.
Summary: a colourful, entertaining, informative magazine with a somewhat specific target audience. It has been some considerable time since I have read similar stories, but this magazine has certainly renewed my interest. On the basis of what I’ve read I would actually recommend this magazine to anyone with an interest in supernatural tales or indeed detective fiction. Cracking first edition, well done chaps.
Got My Mojo Working.
By David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle.
Well, first story is one of Gus, a private detective with a twist in that he is a gorilla. It piles on familiarity as the detective is hard drinking, hard smoking, hard talking and in general just hard. At first the fact that he is a gorilla seems somewhat ludicrous; however, as the tale goes on the detective’s simian nature comes to the fore and actually makes contextual sense. Unfortunately, there are two major issues I have with this story, one of which is the enormous spoiler given by the insertion of an excellent illustration by Wayne M Miller before the text begins in which you can clearly see what this Gorilla Grodd of gumshoes is up against. The second issue, even more important than the first, is that there’s a very big question of how a gorilla became significantly more intelligent than average, acquired the power of speech and became of all things a Private Detective. This, for me at least, is where the more interesting story lies. That is not to say that ‘Got my Mojo working’ is a bad one, it isn’t, I enjoyed the simplicity and quirkiness, but I would much rather have read an ‘origin’ type tale.
Could I see myself reading more of this character’s tales? Yes, certainly.
When Soft Voices Die.
By Amanda DeWees.
Again it is unfortunate that the illustration, this time by Robert Freeman, acts as a spoiler. Maybe it’s just me, but I would really like to see these either partly through the story, or at the end, with the latter being preferred. As to the story itself it should be a fairly straightforward and by the numbers ghost story, somewhat clichéd with the vengeful ghost theme. However, this story makes even the most familiar aspects appear fresh, it is carefully paced and to my mind at least, exhibits an elegance most modern day horror writers appear hard-pressed to emulate. Definitely a quality story.
Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You
By Adrian Cole
Nick ‘Nightmare’ Stone is another detective with a difference; in this case it’s the ability to travel to another dimension. The tightly packed narrative flows smoothly as it tells the tale of a collector of exceptional rarities who hires Nick to bring him something which is quite literally out of this world. Adrian Cole’s characters are richly rendered, with just enough detail surrounding them to allow us to know the private worlds of each, without it being intrusive. The denouement is actually quite sad yet strangely appropriate. Well worth the read. No illustration for this one.
Orbis Tertius
By Josh Reynolds
Illustration by Mutartis Boswell
Orbis tertius is something which to my mind at least reminded me very much of the essence of the Avengers TV series, that’s the John Steed and Mrs Peel version as opposed to the more recent superhero fare. As with the Avengers there’s a supernatural element and initially I was considering that the story would be a little dull and dusty but was pleasantly surprised to find it was written with a deft touch and a humorous tone. There is something seriously amiss at the Voyagers Club, and it is up to Charles St Cyprian and his relatively new charge Ebe Gallowglass to sort things out. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to comment more on the story, it would I fear give away too much, suffice to say I enjoyed it. St Cyprian and Gallowglass are well poised for many more adventures, which can only be a good thing.
Monochrome
By T. E. Grau
Illustration by Dave Felton.
This is the longest story the magazine has to offer, which is unfortunate as it was my least favourite. My reason for saying that is simple; the story seemed to me to have very little going on that required 26 pages to describe it. I cannot remember reading anything in recent years which described so many largely irrelevant things in so much detail, hardly any of which made the experience any richer for me. It’s a shame because this obviously has got a story hidden in it somewhere as the basic idea is interesting enough with certain things defying the laws of physics, strange hooded figures acting in unison et cetera. Henry Ganz is the ex-cop, ex-reporter who is now a writer/private investigator and the general hero of this story. He is very well fleshed out and believable, but for me it was just not enough. Who knows, maybe you’ll love it, this is after all just one person’s opinion, so I guess I’ll have to wait and see what other people think. I’ll probably get hate mail for saying this too, but I found Dave Felton’s illustration didn’t seem quite at home with the overall quality of the publication.
The Occult Files of Doctor Spektor.
By Charles R. Rutledge.
This is an article about the short lived comic book from Gold Key comics in the early 70s. Extremely informative, lavishly illustrated and a definite must read for anyone interested in comic books, especially those with an occult theme.
The Man Behind Dr Spektor
An Interview with Don F. Glut
By Charles R.Rutledge
In a direct follow-on from the comic book article, Charles R Rutledge talks to the man responsible for creating the comic. As a former comic book collector I found this highly interesting and definitely a worthy addition to this magazine. It would be good to see similar features included in the future.
The Baron of Bourbon Street
By Aaron Vlek
This is a lavish tail of Vodou with Baron Samedi strutting his spectral stuff in New Orleans. The story is one of deep horror which involves voodoo, zombies and betrayal told with such a natural voice that I was quickly immersed in the events and swept along by the poetry of it. Beautifully written, with excellent pace and a simple coherent plot, this for me was one of the more polished gems in this fine collection.
The Adventure Of The Black Dog
By Oscar Dowson
A simple tale well told of a Gentleman moving into a new apartment which he will be looking after in the owner’s absence, soon to be confronted by the titular black dog, which is not all as straightforward as it may look. It’s actually something of a Genesis, the black dog being the means by which the main character learns of the existence of the Tulpa and of the remarkable Dr Crow. A supernatural event becomes the catalyst for what appears to be a Sherlock Holmes/Dr Watson type relationship. Although content wise it wasn’t as powerful as some of the other stories here, it was well written, good-natured and interesting enough for me to read more of their adventures.
The Occult Legion
Chapter 1: The Nest
By William Meikle
Now we are on to the novelty. It is only fitting that a magazine such as this would have a serialised work in it, and so it is that seven writers have formed ‘The Occult Legion’. It remains to be seen whether all seven writers will contribute chapters to this story, however, the pace has already been set by the very able Willie Meikle.
Alexander Seton, by orders of the King, attends the construction site of the King’s latest castle, where the digging of the foundations has been halted by something of a supernatural nature. For readers familiar with the works of Mr Meikle you’ll no doubt know what you are in for in this first chapter as it is as Scottish as haggis with just as distinct a flavour. There is a cave beneath the foundation dig which houses something unlike the wee beasties usually offered up by tales set in Scotland, which neatly elevated the story beyond the norm. What chapter 2 will have in store for us I can’t quite readily imagine, for whatever is, I’m sure it will be handled expertly and will be well worth subscribing to.
How To Be A Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In five easy lessons).
By Tim Prasil
When you have read the stories in this magazine, and assuming that you’re not a writer, you may want to have a go at writing your own. Tim Prasil has penned a handy little guide with something of a work through of what you may need to include in your story and why. Obviously well researched, it should set your gears turning with enough practical knowledge to make a good job of whatever you choose to do with the information. Mr Prasil has read through and analysed enough Victorian fiction to be able to speak with authority on the subject. Informative, highly practical and definitely worthy of inclusion in this magazine.
As well as the above stories and articles the magazine also has advertising and reviews. I do not believe it is necessary for me to review the reviews, or indeed to point out what they are reviewing, suffice to say that the genre reviewed is similar in content.
The magazine finishes off with the biographies of the writers contained therein, as well as a thank you to the magazine’s backers from their Kickstarter campaign.
Summary: a colourful, entertaining, informative magazine with a somewhat specific target audience. It has been some considerable time since I have read similar stories, but this magazine has certainly renewed my interest. On the basis of what I’ve read I would actually recommend this magazine to anyone with an interest in supernatural tales or indeed detective fiction. Cracking first edition, well done chaps.
May 18, 2019
I love each new installment of Occult detective Quarterly, not only for how the pay homage to the OGs of the genre, but also actively curate stories by and about underrepresented people. Full disclosure, I let out a loud squeeeeeeee to no one in particular when I found out that there was a magazine dedicated to one of my absolute favorite genres. I love reading these stories and teaching them in my gothic and OD themed courses. Keep up the good work ODQ!
August 11, 2024
I expected something better, these stories are average at best.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews