Goth Chick News: How I Nearly Killed Myself Laughing…
I’m sure you’d never guess this, but my taste is a little left of center.
I have a full suit of armor I dubbed “Prince Vlad” which looms large over my comfy reading chair. For my last birthday, my amazingly normal friends Mr. and Mrs. Disney presented me with a picture of Tippi Hedren from Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, which was autographed by Tippi herself. I was nearly brought to tears I was so touched. I have a full-on voodoo shelf with authentic trinkets from Africa and the Caribbean, which Madam Laveaux herself would envy.

I think I should mention here that the Catholic cleaning lady will not go near my office.
As it would naturally follow, my sense of humor is a tad off too; as in I got a nearly fatal fit of giggles during a relative’s funeral. Though I admit this was entirely improper and uncalled for, I take heart in the idea that the deceased would probably have found the cause as hilarious as I did.
My parents continue to pull me aside and give me “the talk” about not embarrassing them before important family events, something Mr. Goth Chick finds especially amusing, but I think you see my point.
It is because of these unfortunate traits that I find myself drawn to the strange and unusual gems of the literary macabre; often those items tucked into back shelves at the book store or better yet, at the flea market.
In my defense, the written material which occupies the place closest to my blackish, goth chick heart wasn’t written for me specifically and did find its way to a publisher and into the general marketplace.
Therefore, I conclude I must share this morbid sense of humor with others, closeted though you may be.
Which is why it my pleasure this week to share some my favorites with you. Their titles speak to their literal subject matters so I’ve just included a couple of succulent tidbits from each. Ironically, most of this advice would be just as easily at home in the latest “How to Succeed in Business” publication, but there you go.

It might surprise regular readers of this website that Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard are not my favorite pulp writers. They rank among the authors who have influenced and inspired me the most—and they provide endless material to discuss and analyze. But my favorite pulper, perhaps my favorite writer of all time, is Cornell Woolrich.
I’m supposed to be putting the finishing touches on BG 14, figuring out how to use Google Ad words, and about a million other things tonight. But man, I am beat.
We kick off Part II of the
I just stumbled upon this spin on a subscription plan to support
I just saw some news via SFSignal and SciFi Squad about
I have had the distinct good fortune of traveling to twenty-three countries and have, as I mentioned in prior posts, engaged in various ghost-hunting activities in more than a few of them.
Last week,