Tales of Terror from the Tunnel’s Mouth ~Chris Priestley

Tales of Terror from the Tunnel’s Mouth ~Chris Priestley

–published 2009
–Bloomsbury Publishing
–259 pages
–illustrated by David Roberts

I discovered Chris Priestley’s Tales of Terror series last year about this time and quickly devoured the first two books, Uncle Montague’s Tales of Terror and Tales of Terror from the Black Ship. Having enjoyed both immensely I was excited to see my library recently obtain a copy of the latest book, Tales of Terror from the Tunnel’s Mouth. Like its predecessors it delighted me with the palpable, nostalgic creepy vibe given off by each story contained therein. The Tales of Terror books reside comfortably in the in-between space in which they are not quite short story collections and not quite full novels. Instead they are books that start and end with a young child (two in the case of Black Ship) who find themselves alone with a suspect adult who entertains them by telling them ghastly tales featuring young people who mostly meet very bitter fates. In between stories the young person becomes increasingly aware that something about their present circumstances is not quite right and their own adventure progresses throughout the series of tales being related.

I had been anticipating that a great deal of pleasure would come from this latest installment and in that I was quite right. Priestley’s latest will leave you with a feeling of satisfaction at having had a good ol’ fashioned scare while revisiting your own memories of childhood tales of things that go bump in the night.

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The Graveyard Book (Audio) ~Neil Gaiman

The Graveyard Book ~Neil Gaiman

–recorded 2008
–HarperCollins Audio
–unabridged, 7.5 hours
–Novel winner of the 2010 Carnegie Medal

Book lovers the world over understand that while there are many authors, living and dead, whose talent with words and grasp of subject matter can keep one enthralled for hours in a world that exists between the front and back cover, there are those authors who rise above that. They enchant us. They have a way with words that sings a melody directly to our hearts and when asked we readily describe them by that overused word: favorite. Neil Gaiman is one such author for me. The Sandman series opened up a world of comic books for discerning readers that I had not previously been aware even existed. And when I read Gaiman’s novel, Neverwhere, I felt as if somehow he had mined the richer parts of my dreams and concocted exactly the kind of story that I always wanted to read. It isn’t that I hadn’t read good, engaging books before that. I had. And I have read many since then. But something about the way Neil Gaiman writes, and the access he provides readers through his blog, endeared him to me in a way that is very powerful.

In other words, I like his stuff. And whether you are a fan of Neil Gaiman, have never read any of his work, or have and just find him a bit, “meh”, I know that if you are a book lover you know exactly what I mean, and merely need to insert your own particular author’s name into the above paragraph.

When Neil’s latest book, The Graveyard Book was released in late September 2008, I wasted no time in picking it up from the store that very day. I began reading it shortly after midnight that night and had finished it by the end of the day. I was deeply engaged in the story, was moved to tears on a couple of occasions, and promptly set out to order the audio book version so that I could share it with my wife on a trip we had coming up.

That was two years ago. It seemed highly fitting to revisit the story now, two years later, as the season slowly makes its way towards cool autumn nights.

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Fall, Food, Football…and Freebies!!!


(My niece)

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
~Nathaniel Hawthorne

In addition to the annual R.I.P. Challenge, impending autumn announces itself around this household in a number of other ways, one being the opening of the fall festival season with Santa-Cali-Gon Days in the nearby city of Independence, Missouri.

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Cleaning House: The Kick Ass, Take Names Version


(Art by Gil Elvgren)

For almost two weeks prior to the RIP V announcement I had virtually disappeared from the blogosphere. Though not a singular phenomenon, this time it was for something completely unrelated to work stress: I developed and fed a singular obsession. That obsession…

Get our basement cleaned out and organized ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!

The wife began discussing when I arrived back from my July conference in DC and I found myself in the same situation I am in every year in August, which is wanting to get certain less than pleasant projects taken care of so that I can enjoy the Sept-Dec. period, my favorite time of year. Something about this year was obviously different. Her desire for it to be done and my desire to do it clicked, we did some planning, and away we went.

I warn you, this post is image intensive, my apologies. The sense of relief at having it done makes me want to talk about it, and the pictures are as much to show you all as it is a visual thank you to my father, who took the time to help me build shelves to store items on, and to my wife and daughter who pitched in to help sort and pack and clean.

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R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril Challenge…V!!!


(Could You Ever Really Know Her, image by Jennifer Gordon, slight alterations by Carl V.)

“It was a dark and stormy night…”

Or at least I wish it was, rather than a warm, sunshiny day. Despite the weather refusing to cooperate with my gothic mood, the calendar does not lie, ladies and gentlemen. It is indeed that time of year where two short months are dedicated to reveling in all things creepy, eerie, mysterious, gothic, horrifying, suspenseful and strange.

It is time to celebrate things that go bump in the night; that favorite detective that always gets his man, or woman, in the end; that delicious chill of a creak on the stairs, of the rogue waiting in the dark, of the full moon and the flit of bats wings.

As I wrote last year:

“Some of my earliest reading memories were collections of Peanuts, borrowed from the local library. I would pour over them, finding humor in the strangest of places, laughing aloud. That early exposure to the work of Charles Schultz cultivated a deep and abiding passion for his creations.

And that phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night…” tickled my imagination with thoughts of moonlight and darkness and things that go bump in the night.

Perhaps that was also the beginning of my passion for I what I lump under a broad personal definition of gothic literature: dark nights; decaying, haunted castles; menacing forests; pervasive gloom; ancient prophecies; damsels in distress (or at least at the wrong place in the wrong time); blood-curdling screams…stories with atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife.

It was a desire to celebrate and share that love of the elements of gothic fiction that inspired me to create the first R.I.P. Challenge, five years ago.

Readers Imbibing Peril, that is what it is all about. I hope you’ll consider joining us on this more eerie road less traveled.

Walk this way.”

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Eclectic Musings of a Renaissance Geek