Wednesday, April 29, 2015



So far 2015 has been a year of - - - sheer strange. Unexpected growth, and disappointments (of a personal nature, so they will not be discussed here), as with all things.

First up, my ROSETTA BONES column in THE INTESTINAL FORTITUDE emag has been doing well, focused mainly on music/movie/book reviews, editorial rants, etc. I am ALWAYS looking for new bands and books to review, promote, & eventually interview the creators of. Check the ROSETTA BONES column out @

Next up, on June 1st 2015, the live radiocast "2 IN THE SAME BOAT with MOJOE & VINCENT" launches. It will be a paranormal, artist, strange news & rock-n-roll based show, quite unlike anything you've heard before I can assure you - - - skeptics welcome, too! So far we have a variety of guests scheduled, including punk legend Bloody F. Mess, The Unarians, and many more. Anyone (writers, musicians, artists) interested in appearing on the show contact Mojoe (Joseph William Macguire) or myself on fb, or @ my email We have two FB pages as well: and a more interactive one:

I've been appearing regularly on, and even writing material for, THE ANDROID VIRUS & SEAN show. It is the radiocast companion to THE INTESTINAL FORTITUDE, and they've been kind enough to bequest Mojoe & myself a show of our own. The show covers a WIDE array of topics and is one of the most un-P.C. things out there. It's also incredibly funny. They can be heard LIVE on most Friday nights, 9pm-11pm est. They can be found & listened to here:

I am also reviewing horror/weird/art films for GOREHOUND MIKES WEIRD CINEMA once again, returning after a year or so hiatus, my column being called "VINCENT'S VILE VIDEO VAULT." I try to keep most film critiques to this column, which can be found here:

October will hopefully see the return of Grave Demand Magazine, in a free online format, retitled GRAVE DEMAND: OPEN CASKET. My associates in the project are the FREEZINE's Shaun Lawton, writer/filmmaker Rick Baldwin, and Nick Perrone. GD: OC is essentially the horror/extreme weird sister to the FREEZINE of Fantasy & Science FictionThere will be more info on this project as it developes.

And speaking of the FREEZINE, several of my stories, as well as my 2010 apocalyptic horror punk novella "Waiting For The End," can still be found there for free. Check it out @

My story "GLUEBABY (Her Harlequin Nightmare)" will be appearing in the January issue of INFERNAL INK Magazine. I'm also still waiting for "CORPSeX: A Method of Love" to appear in [Nameless] Magazine. The contract was signed some time ago, but I know Mr. Brock is an extremely busy gent at the moment, and usually is. I'll get in touch with him about that soon enough, and let you know from there.

There are also new stories and verse being written all the time now, since that dreadful year-long writer's block passed. I just need to get off my ass and start submitting again.

Also, I'm still putting together and polishing up my anthology of previously-published works (many of which are now out of print/circulation, and are now near impossible to find), as well as some new ones thrown into the mix. Unfortunately, the original version fried in my hard drive, so I've just started putting it together from the ground up once again. The tentative title is still BURY ME IN A NAMELESS GRAVE. 

And finally, I have collected 20+ years of my various darkpunk/deathrock bands releases and lost material on a Reverbnation page, Vincent Daemon's Age Of Desire:
It's currently warehousing most everything recorded from 1991 to the present (over 100 songs, still adding). I have many new songs written, and may begin some new recordings within the coming months. Check it out - - - burn your ears.

There's also some secret projects in the works, to which I am bound under honor of death were I to reveal at this time. 

Fangs for reading, as always. Please join and follow. Writers, musicians, artists, filmmakers, paranormal magnets, contact me at if interested in being reviewed/interviewed/appearing on the radio show. 

Vincent Daemon

Saturday, January 3, 2015


And The Importance and Similarities Thereof

Fukk that Happy New Year shit. Jan. 1st is an arbitrary day as any other for "new beginnings." Realistically, what if the "new beginning" really began some time ago? 

That statement make a lick of sense? Mmmm, not really, but stick with me. Also understand I may neverreach an end-point here. Considering there really isn't a starting one, necessarily.

I was 5 when I saw Alice Cooper on the Muppet Show. That left a particular indellible mark on me that will stick with me forever. It wasn't until I was 7 and my cousin gave me a copy of "Alice Cooper's Greatest Hits" that the fever really hit: the sound, the atrocity of what struck me even at that age as absurd and funny -- I got it, and I loved it. This was also around the time I discovered the Gill Man, my favorite (and most personally identifiable) of the classic monsters, began watching classic strange films that would run on PBS, or the local (Philly Area) "Ceature Double Feature" on ch 48 on Saturday afternoons. Movies like Astro Zombies, Horror Of Party Beach, The Giant Claw, Tarantula, Invasion Of The Saucermen,
the Welcome To My Nightmare Alice Cooper concert film, watching the Twilight Zone and Outer Limits reruns with my parents -- I was hooked. 7 and already a horror nerd. 

Let's jump ahead a coupla years. Say, 7. After all, "Seven and Seven is . . . " -- a 14 yr old shy loner finding complete solace in the music, visual, and now literary "strange" --not just horror. just the outright weird and different, in all ways, always naturally appealed to me. Music had progressed from Alice Cooper to Venom, Iron Maiden, Motorhead, King Diamond, Dead Kennedy's --- and eventually the Misfits, at that point (1987) known only by (classic) Metallica fans (due to their covers of "Last Caress" and "Green Hell") and old-schooler skater kids. They were the ultimate "horror kid's" (of which I was) band, and back then shadowed by the beauty of mystery and memory, (They also were no longer a band -- that is another story, considering to me they still ARE NOT a band, just some guys calling themselves the Misfits, an offensive parody of the band that essentially saved my life). From there, naturally, Danzig, Samhain, of course. The Undead. Any post-Misfits related band. But the Misfits are what really drove me further into the seedier, stranger realms of punk rock, and it's varied forms and original aesthetic of certain elements (which for all intents have all but faded away, except for throwbacks such as myself and a few others scattered about -- we tend to hide like roaches, smoking them as well). I discovered the Cramps, 45 Grave, Dwarves, Bauhaus, GG Allin, TSOL --- all these GREAT bands and sounds, I found a dear love in early SoCAl punk, eventually landing me right into the luxurious lap of Christian Death. 

Punk rock and horror literature saved my life then - - - and would many more times to come.

While discovering these bands, and being an early and avid reader already (mostly of Greek Mythology, Robert E, Howard Conan books, some of my Dad's strange 70's scifi he'd leave around the house), at 12 I read all the Barker and King I was forbidden to, went to the comics and book shops and ordered incredible, mindblowing splatterpunk novels from Skipp & Specter, Shaun Hutson (yeah, I read "Slugs"), Rex Miller. I'd sit for hours alone, lost deep in the sounds of Bauhaus and words of Barker's "Books Of Blood III" (still associate "Passion of Lovers with "Rawhead Rex" -- go figure). I had always been an avid reader, but after finding HPL at 12 it became almost an addiction, like music I had discovered, and like writing I just couldn't stop. Wrote my first story at 8, something goofy, and a couple others but from that first story I KNEW what I "wanted to be when I grew up." A fukking writer. Those authors and books as well progressed in both intensity and sheer strange. Read "Naked Lunch" at 16, eventally got into Byron, Keats, etc. All of this of course seemed to mix naturally with the progression of the music. Being synesthetic was a big help as weil, though it was not so much a tossed around idea then, or necessarily noticed as such by myself at that point (i figured everyone saw/thought/etc., that way -- have come to find, not so much), but I wrote incessantly, my odd, lonely, and violently strange horror tales becoming moribund poetry of many different forms, experimental, until finally turning into lyrics for my first real band, Age Of Desire. Even the band's name was copped from Clive Barker's killer final story in "The Inhuman Condition (aka: Books Of Blood 5)." The Rock and Horror connection, so firmly rooted in my mind, finally becoming one, in a 4 year band that was supposed to be a 2 "shock rock" gaffe.

At 17 (1991) I began the project, which lasted until 1994 when, invariabley, everything collapsed. We were known for trashing the places we played and people who came to us (who absolutely loved it), both house parties and legit clubs, with gallons of Karo syrup blood (home-made, of course), pounds of ground meat babies ripped apart and thrown raw at our adoring cWe had fans (deaht-metal people, most oddly, as we were a "gothic punk" band -- punks seems to hate us, which I loved). We did a small botched tour, had numerous line-up changes, an onstage, outdoor crucifixtion, started what turned into a brief but serious riot, put 3 albums out, with numerous unreleased recordings --- yet ended in creative disputes, a drug-addled drummer, and a stolen van full of our equipment. 

I started to write fiction again, this time much more coherent and life experience, escpecialy after having worked at the world's most monstrous nursing home (not kidding) and having dealt quite closely with death for quite some time. Still wrote music, performed in bands, and worked a myriad of jobs I increasingly loathed. But I did keep writing. And silence never quite cut it but for the odd and rare occasion. I made many a well thought compilation to accompany these days-and-nights-long forays into the stranger realms of my imagination, interspersed with a break to write a song or two amongst the pounds of stories piling up in my in my drawer, on my dresser. By now I'm in my mid-20's. 

By summer of 2000, I was actively in 4 different musical projects, still wrote stories I had no idea what to do with. Unfortunately a good portion of that written material, all those stories and years of work destroyed in an instant during an unexpected flood. I wrote and performed music at this time with Eddie "Skinhead Gourmet" Petro (find his show, THE SKINHEAD GOURMET, on youtube), in our deathpunk band the Necrotics until 2003, when he moved. After having stoppedwriting fiction again for several years (since some 100+ stories disintegrated before my eyes in the flood), I began to take it up again a little bit. 

But no go. 2004-2008 was a bad couple of years. Virtually no writing, had given up on most everything, disappeared from the grid, and worked for a small home remodeling company while living alone in various nefarious places. I went essentially fully off the grid. There was no creativity (that I would allow out any longer), and a sickly "Travis Bickle" like mentality was beginning to sink in, the same sortof despair, lonliness. Weirdness. But during that 4 year period I read, non-stop, anything I could get my hands on, in fact oft-times ignoring 

In the blistering summer of 2008, while working a miserable forklift job for Northtec Industries (aka: the shady-assed and wicked-corrupt Estee Lauder Corporation) and living with an even more miserable woman, I out of the blue (perhaps self-peservatory flight AND fight reactions simultaneously, heh) began to write a lot. Flash fiction, some bizarre poetry, and some disturbingly vicious full length horror stories, my first in years. And stuff that was actually good, different. Writing had become rock-n-roll for me, experience, wisdom, age, something new and nameless I was learning about the art of writing -- a feeling of having to have had lived through hells to write the proper cautionary tales about hells. And when I say hells I speak not in some Xtianiazed sense of the world you perceive and the ill's that have forever plagued the deepest reptilian region of mankinds mind for so long as being controlled by some silly, angry JudeaoXtian man in the sky, nor a GAOTU (Great Architect Of The Universe), nor any silly horse-shit like that. I'm speaking of no money, no food, nowhere to live, losses of jobs, and the heavy static of gravity pushing down so hard over such aperiod of time that - - - snap. 

13 hours a day on a forklift, moving literally tons of material from A to B, causes strange things to happen. 

So on January 1st 2009 I submitted a poem somewhere, under my real name, and it was accepted, even lauded by the editor. Then, a full piece of fiction, to the FREEZINE of Fantasy and Science Fiction, whose founder/editor Shaun Lawton really liked. Then I just kept doing it, writing constantly, "honing my craft," so to speak, act of 'habitual personality' (ie: addictive personality) tendencies creeping in - - - like so many haunted memories yet in the most non-haunting of ways. Cathartic release of soul pains, instead. 

Were those experiences, those hells, worth the havoc they could (and would) ultimately wreak in order to finally force it out of me like some placebo-exorcism? Anxieties and depressions, agoraphobias and other true things that go bump at any hour they want, night or day, involuntary and of their own volition -- those horrid defacto ghosts of the mind -- the ghosts of memory and time, worth every grind of sound as that synesthesia transforms those notes to the shape of letters, each one a gutteral sound in itself; a numerical letter not fed from outside and into your mind by outsourced data, but instead blown forth from inside out of your mind, soul and heart, ejaculated onto the page from the pen you possess, that may in fact perhaps posess you.

Was it really worth it, letting Djinnout of bottles and opening Padora's Box to see just what it  is that hides inside? Is it worth opening the closet door at 3 a.m. and facing that which holds you back?

You're goddamned right it is - - - and was. For some, in fact, it is necessary.

PUNK'S UNDEAD - - - and this began a long, long time ago.

If you actually made it this far, thanks for reading, please subscrube to blog if not already.

Stay Sick,

Vincent Daemon

Monday, November 17, 2014

NOVEVEMBER NEWS and Other Bullshit

Greetings my fellow revelers of the dark and demented, sick and twisted, and just plain perverse.

October was indeed an interesting month. I got to see one of the infamous SAMHAIN's final perfomances (show review here: ), which was magnificent.

I was lucky enough to have my bittersweet Halloween fable "See You Next Year My Love" appear in the FREEZINE's "Devil's Week Spectacular," along with four other writers who I couldn't have been be more ecstatic to have appeared with in this special edition of the ezine: John Claude Smith, HP Lovecraft, Gil Bavel, and finally the inimitable John Shirley. Even with the holiday now weeks behind, it is still (and always will be) worth a look -- five tales of the Season Of The Dead from a group of writers you cannot go wrong with. You can find all that here:

In other news I am currently putting together my first anthology, BURY ME IN A NAMELESS GRAVE, consisting of tales both previously published (many out of print now), and newer works as well.

I've appeared twice (episodes #49 and I think # 47) as a guest on the ANDROID VIRUS & SEAN radio show, to which I am most grateful for, and is always a hell of a lot of fun. They can be tuned in to almost every Friday night, 9pm to 11pm EST at:  (which also features all their previous episodes -- go have a listen, get some laughs, and perhaps even learn a little morbid knowledge as well).

My column ROSETTA BONES is going quite well, and can be found at:
on THE INTESTINAL FORTITUDE  It is the online companion piece to the ANDROID VIRUS & SEAN radio show.

ANY writers, musicians, or filmmakers feel free to contact me at for an interview or to have your work reviewed.

And finally, speaking of film, the earliest planning stages are in the works for a filmed version of my 2010 novella WAITING FOR THE END , which was published as a serial on the FREEZINE as well, and can be found here:

Scripting and screenplay duties will be handled collaboratively by myslef and intense poetess and screenwriter Linda Angel (check her blog at ), and directing duties to be handled by Shaun Lawton. The rest will fall into place as we progress. As stated this is in its earliest stages of planning, the project not scheduled to fully begin until the new year. I am most excited about this, personally, as are the others thus far involved. The most interesting part is that these people came to me about this. It'd be foolish to not do this. More news on the project will appear here as it progresses.

And speaking of 2015, expect the (hopeful) return of GRAVE DEMAND Magazine (at some point) in a new online format. The revised title will be Grave Demand: OPEN CASKET. Again, more on this as it developes.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading, and as always, STAY SICK,

Vincent Daemon

Friday, September 26, 2014



Firstly, life is strange. It just is. The whys and wherefores matter not, oft times, only instinct and intuition. Timing. Decision. Action. Perception. Reality.

But just what is real.

Sometimes weird things just happen, and something from somewhere says no or now. Sometimes it can be at the best of possible times, others the worst. Sometimes just in the middle, when you feel you live in a "dying place" inside yourself. When you feel incorporeal; or like a fully dried raisin, empty but for a few useless and wasting calories. Spent and tired and drained and passionless and always awake. Too awake. Scary awake. Too many shadows darting from the corners of your eyes. You are sober when this happens. That is when the bottom feels like it is slipping out. The bottom of your mind, sluicing through empty and invisible pores as sweat and invisible gasses . . . you feel like an Android. Or perhaps a Replicant. Devoid of ALL creativity and Free Will and Thought . . . and you feel like living damage: a consistently self-deprecating invisible demon claws forever at your back,your heart. Depression, anxiety . . . madness slowly sets in as creativity slithers silently out.



Until that one day your demons decide to fukk with you just a little more. Then seclusion, exile of the self and will and mind; all of it self-delusion.

But you don't know that yet.

No, not til that day you, seemingly for no apparent reason whatsoever, decide get up and attempt to (proactively through intuition/instinct?) do something you've been battling with yourself about for what by now feels like aeons, actively fighting to remember passwords and log-ins and usernames and all that bullshit.

"A writer who doesn't write, is merely an insane person."  Not the exact quote; do not recall who said it; too lazy to look it up, heh. But it was something writer and friend John Claude Smith had said to me once in an online conversation we had been having about writing and madness and muses.

Your perceptions,of all things, have shifted. Now you have noticed that.

But this comes with another something you didn't notice due to your ever so oddly wired perpetual-motor time-shift mind frame (of the passed [yes, spelled as such on purpose] what feels like aeons), as again it didn't allow you to notice. Things you would not/could not have conceived.

My own mind, once again, my own worst enemy.

Finally, though, it circles round, the slithering Ouroborous round the Moebius Strip; the machine has re-awoken, restarted itself, not alone but through the other beautiful strips that criss-crossed yours, bringing to your eyes now colors that you did not even realize existed yet always have; colors that speak in the soft martian-sky whispers of cosmic winds and the safe, warm eternal sands they cover you with, cocoon-like. A cocoon that slowly crackles, bringing forth a different, healthier, safer beast, one of positive energy as opposed to negative despair. 

Its like learning to breathe for the first time. Creativity has come back. Learning, slowly, to take better of myself, inside my mind; inside my heart.

We all should, we all need to.

If you actually read all this ramble, try to learn from it as I am, if you yourself are in despair. And thank you for your time.

Onto other things now:


Starting at some point today at the FREEZINE Of Fantasy And Science Fiction, is my 4 part serial OF CADENCE AND WEATHERED STATUES. Runs from today until Monday Sept. 29th. Go read and enjoy some great FREE Lovecraftian-themed fiction, my style, as well as the other great stories by Gene Stewart and Keith Graham that appeared in this edition of the FZ. Go here: and check until it is up, which should be by this evening. When up I'll put in the proper link.

Also, check out my regular new column ROSETTA BONES (  ) on the e-zine THE INTESTINAL FORTITUDE ( ), essentially the online companion to THE ANDROID VIRUS AND SEAN radio show ). My ROSETTA BONES column covers music/film reviews and rants and rages on whatever topic hits at the time and more. Currentlyup, my review for the new album from Dave Lombardo's project PHILM  ( ), and a commentary on morbid porn titled Elegy: The Death Knell Of Sensuality In Smut ( ).  For October's horrors I'll be doing (amongst reviews) a several part article on the horrific history of the band CHRISTIAN DEATH, righting wrongs, dispelling misgivings and the many myths that surround these enigmatic Goth Rock legends. And on that, I just may be on the radio show at some point in October, as it is their special October Horror's Month, and they have a great line-up of guests and gags. More info as it comes.

In October I will be in a special holiday edition of the FREEZINE, with two of my favorites, but for now that remains between the nano's and I. However, you will not be disappointed. And if you are, shame on you.

And some things I have come across that you should all give a look-see:

For you words, check out the blog Liberate Tutemet (  ), by writer Linda Nagle. Sonnets, verse, and wondrously worded, intelligent rants from this incredibly gifted and perceptive writer. Very powerful, passionate, raw, honest wordplay at work here.

For your visuals, check out Kara Koma's gallery  ( ) to see some amazing, macabre and beautiful art from another of the great undiscovered's floating around. Plus her gruesomely erotic piece "Weathered Statue" accompanies my story this weekend in the FREEZINE.

That's all for now, kiddies. Looks like you all have some reading and investigating to do, and it will be well worth your while to do so.

Thanks for reading and Stay Sick,

Vincent Daemon

Wednesday, September 10, 2014



Greetings one and all. No, I am not dead (on the outside, anyway). It's been quite a while since I have made a post here, or anywhere for that matter. Details are not important here, merely that I am doing a bit better, have started writing regularly again, and even have started working on some visual art as well.

My disappearance from the grid was something I had to do for my own piece of mind and sanity. Depression, anxiety, insomnia, and agoraphobia (which became techno-agoraphobia) led to a severe writers block. It had never been this bad before, this was something new. Writer's block led to life block. And finally to a very fizzle-fried and broken computer, leading me to say fukk it.

I've hidden away long enough. It is now time to return from the shadows of the Cosmic Hades and do what it is I do (which could be any number of things on any given day -- you get the idea I'm sure).

As for GRAVE DEMAND, it is currently on hiatus until financial (and some other) situations improve. All contributors please send your submitted works elsewhere for now, where your greatnesses can be read and appreciated. 

I may have a new story entitled Of Cadence And Weathered Statues in the FREEZINE OF FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION come the end of September.

And currently special thanks to Kara Koma, Shaun Lawton, Adam Bolivar, and Eddie "Skinhead Gourmet" Petro for their time, patience, kind ears (eyes?), and special words to help me pull through this and start getting my shit back together. No man is an island, yet I tried to make myself one, due to so many varying factors, many of which were my own dear familiar phantoms.

I did have some work published in 2013 that I never bothered to advertise. So here it is:

-- TIMING IS EVERYTHING is in the Diabolic Publications anthology DIABOLIC TALES III

-- PLASMATICK is in INFERNAL INK (Volume 2, Issue 1, April 2013)

-- A POISONED IDEA is in INFERNAL INK (Volume 2, Issue 2, July 2013)

-- TRIALS was featured in the print only zine Nightmares From The Attic (I believe that was the title, I never received a copy of the zine, only a few were printed and they are hard to find).

Again, there was another published piece or two in 2013 that my fried brain cannot quite recall, nor can I check my fried computer that had it all listed out. Nor the backup as that was accidentally smashed during a recent move.

Any further questions (about anything, personal, writing related, etc. direct them to me personally at

Otherwise, if anyone actually reads this, please join and pass the gun (ie: word) around, and, as always. Thank you for your time.

Never Let The Bastards Get You Down,

Vincent Daemon

Thursday, December 13, 2012

A Blog-Tag Interview on "Bury Me In A Nameless Grave." And A Sliver Of News.

Apparently I am involved in an interview blog tag. So here is a series of form questions I received about the collection of short stories I am about to start shopping out, Bury Me In A Nameless Grave: A Collection Of 11, and the subsequent answers.

And one sliver of news: My tale Trials, and the poem Queen Cobra, will both be appearing in the print only magazine Affraid Of The Basement, Issue #1, coming early 2013. More info posted as I get it.

Thanks for reading.


1) What is the working title of your next book?

Bury Me In A Nameless Grave: A Collection of 11.

2) Where did the idea come from for the book?

It came from a myriad of strange and dark places, many of which I've been to on some psychological level, and all of which you would never want to go.

3) What genre does your book fall under?

It has been referred to as transgressive and occasionally "cutting edge" horror. With some erotica and occasionally gallows humor thrown into the mix for good measure.

4) Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I've never really considered it.

5) What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

It will contain eleven tales of the bizarre and the bittersweet, the madness of broken souls, bad love, and the beasts within men.

6) Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I will be shopping it out to a publisher.

7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

These are stories both previously printed and new, that I have culled together over the past four years.

8) What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I've been told that comparisons can not easily be made between my stuff and the works of others. Some have compared it to aspects of Edward Lee, Jack Ketchum, early Clive Barker, William S. Burroughs, and M. Gira's book The Consumer. Honestly, I'm not big on the comparison thing.

9) Who or what inspired you to write this book?

The incredibly strange and surreal life that I have lived thus far, which does not seem to be altering from that course anytime soon. Also, at the urging of some friends and fans, and to one in particular who shall remain nameless. They know who they are.

10) What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

It can be both brutal and occasionally touching, gut-wrenching, and is sure to leave you with ideas, imagery, and emotion that you won't soon be able to shake.

---As per the agreement (geez, that sounds kinda sinister) of this blog tag, here are some other fine writers whom you should all check out a.s.a.p.---

Scott M. Baker (host of the blog tag)

Maxine Xaviera

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Actual updates? News? Krampus turds?

Greetings all.

As the vile stink of the Christmas season permeates absolutely everything around us for the next month or so, and varied forms of true misery seem to be creeping in everywhere, it appears I have some news. Yes, an actual blog update. Like turds under the tree from the Krampus himself . . . gifts.

Firstly, come the new year (barring there isn't some hideous pole shift or something that pulls all of our innards fully and outwardly up through our gullet, throat, then mouth, leaving a steaming pile of guts at our quaking and disoriented feet) I have several tales in the works of being published. More info will follow upon their releases.

CORPSeX: A Method Of Love will be appearing in the 3rd issue of [Nameless] Magazine come early 2013.

Plasmatick will be appearing in the wonderful Infernal Ink 3, to be released in April 2013.

A Poisoned Idea will be appearing in Infernal Ink 4, to be released in July 2013.

As for other news.

I have recently been hired by horror historian/fanatic and occasional Fangoria contributor Gorehound Mike to do reviews for his page Gorehound Mike's Weird Cinema Blog. I'll be doing two reviews a week, appearing on Mondays and Fridays. Come by, check it out, it's a good time. Gorehound Mike knows his stuff (and so do I, hence the position). I'm honored to have been asked aboard and look forward to "enlightening" you all as to my jaded (and often cantankerous) opinions on our beloved genre.

Last but not least, I got word today that a particular top secret project that has been a while in the running (and which I have remained absolutely mum about) has reached a next stage in its possible fruition/developement. Fingers crossed, people. I would love to divulge a little more, but swore under threat of a forced needle-shot urethral leprosy infection that I wouldn't. The words "you'll have to sleep sometime" have never sounded so frightening, trust me.

So, yeah, news. I'll have more specifics as things progress all around.

2013 can only be better than 2012.

Which I will post a virulent rant about, perhaps come closer to the new year. Or just after. Who knows.

Thanks for reading, please join if so inclined.


Vincent D.