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This afternoon, following all the determined UK doctors’ orders (not to mention Nicky’s firm instructions—never forget or ignore those) I went for a walk and wished I hadn’t bothered. I had been looking forward to it—that was the thing—but today Hornsea was dead as a dodo. I tell you, if we lived in an area where one might see the occasional tumbleweed from time to time or even one of the lost birds I mentioned above then this afternoon, for sure, I’d have seen one. But we don’t so I didn’t.
Nevertheless, I continued onwards along the Towers’ west wing, past the stocks and the little moat and headed for the high street where I carried on down past a whole host of empty shops, pausing at pretty much each one, hands in pockets as I stared through the window. If one of the drinking establishments that cluster past the roundabout had been open then one might have at least half-expected to see the grizzled old pee-anner player close his instrument’s lid and take safety neath the table alongside.
But no, no grizzled old-timer hereabouts (unless, of course, you count me—and you should, you know, because everyone else seems to in these virus-tainted times) and not so much as a single bar of music of any description to send a wayfaring stranger into the windy gloom and battleship-grey sky above Newbegin. And so it was that, knowing you would be waiting for me eagerly to see what little gems I might have for you, I turned tail and—being careful not to come within a couple of yards of other drifters (though there were none of import—headed along towards the back stairs to my office. Which is where, right now, you find me, preparing to toast some crumpets as I draw closed the curtains.
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| But fear not, I think you’ll be pleased to see what I’ve got for you and no denying. |
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Some of it you may have seen before and some will be new . . . as indeed it was when we launched this truly magical and altogether epic project at FantasyCon in Glasgow, where you warmly purchased copies of a series of pamphlets, teasers if you will that trilled lovingly about the fact that we all of us hear stories in the dark.
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But forget the pamphlets, chums, for now you have the real thing and even the full monty . . .
Plus, dare I say—oh, yes, I dare, kids . . . I dare very much indeed which you know already—even the cat’s pyjamas. You are about to embark on a voyage like no other voyage, an six hundred and fifty thousand word journey that everyone reading these words and all of the others that follow or precede them will read in a different order and in a different mood, an order and a mood that is entirely dependant on where you begin and where you move on to. But it is a voyage which begins as all great voyages should always begin: Once upon a time.
Now let me pass you over to Rob Shearman, both the driver and the conductor of this merry prankster excursion, this altogether magical and mysterious trip:
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“Thrillingly unpredictable, bizarrely life-enhancing… Shearman is a great writer.” —The Scotsman
“A writer who is not afraid to approach the big subjects, but does so from interesting oblique angles and with a light, kittenish gait. Rather profound, ingeniously plotted.” —The Independent
“Shearman’s prose is a mixture of faux-naïve mundanity and breathtaking fantasy visions. Addictive. Wonderful.” —SFX
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Once upon a time there was a man who lost his wife, and tried to find her by reading all the books in the world.
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Thanks, Rob. And onwards we go from there.
An old woman sits in the dark. She has 101 stories to tell you—the last stories in existence. But the route through them will not be a simple one. At the end of each tale, she will ask you five questions about your reaction to it, prompting you to choose which of five stories you read next.
It's a literal 'choose your own adventure' book, as the reader navigates their way through a labyrinth of colliding and contrasting tales. A modern-day Arabian Nights—except this time Scheherazade isn't spinning yarns to save her own life; if our hero follows the right path, and reads all the stories in the correct order, he will win back his wife from the dead.
There are fairy tales and myths, adventure stories, horror stories. There are comedies and tragedies, there's fantasy and fables and realist emotional tales of modern life. Some of the stories are funny, and some are moving. Some of them are frightening. Most of them are very, very strange.
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“Shearman is indeed a unique voice, though one can find certain echoes of Dahl, Ionesco, Barthelme . . . Shearman is willing to try anything to get the sheer oddness of his tales across, and his mordant views of love, loss and terror, may lead in still more unexpected, and very rewarding, directions.” —Locus
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We think this is something very special indeed.
Nothing quite like this book has ever been attempted before. The premise is that stories always change their meaning dependent upon the order in which you read them—and as you work your way through the peculiar tunnels of We All Hear Stories in the Dark the odds against anyone else ever treading the same path as you become exponentially unlikely. Bluntly, every reader's journey through the book will be entirely unique. You will be the only person who ever reads your version of WE ALL HEAR STORIES IN THE DARK.
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It's a mammoth project, ten years in the writing.
With a word count larger than War and Peace—but with substantially more jokes and talking pigs. It'll be a lavish book, with each story individually illustrated by Reggie Oliver—we think it'll be something quite spectacular. A book about loss and grief, and how we deal with them—about love, and history, and art, and the consolations they offer. A book about the nature of storytelling itself.
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Robert Shearman's previous collections of stories have won the World Fantasy Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, and three British Fantasy Awards.
He was one of the original writers for the revival of 'Doctor Who', and his interactive radio drama series for the BBC, ' The Chain Gang', has won two Sony awards. We feel this is his most ambitious, maddening, extraordinary project yet.
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The book is to be divided into three volumes . . .
Each volume will released simultaneously, with special essays written by Steven Moffat, Angela Slatter, Michael Marshall Smith and Lisa Tuttle.
There are 101 deluxe edition books, all of which come with something unique. There is one single copy of a new tale, The Miasmic Undeaths of Ernest Trudge, handwritten by the author—and chopped into 101 segments, of exactly 101 words each. Every extract will be numbered so the reader can tell where their individual version fits inside the narrative—along with exclusive access to the entire story.
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“Shearman has a uniquely engaging narrative voice and he steers clear of genre clichés, injecting elements of horror and the surreal into a recognisably real world. As impressive as his quirky imagination is his emotional range: most of the stories are darkly humorous, but humour, horror and genuine pathos all make a powerful impact in a very short space.” —The Times Literary Supplement
“Corrosively funny, wistful, sharp, strange and black as a coffin lid, Robert Shearman is an addictive delight.” —Mark Gatiss, co-creator of ‘Sherlock’ and ‘Dracula’.
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So as you can see, this one is very demanding of your attenton. If you would like to take a look at the prologue then go here:
PROLOGUE
We don't expect the deluxe edition to be available much past the weekend, and I can guess what you're all thinking . . . What! only 101 copies!
Well, fear not chums, this is a book that just has to be read and so we are also making it available as an unsigned hardcover edition.
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“His stories are like the bastard offspring of Philip K Dick and Jonathan Carroll, but with a quirky personality that is completely their own.” —Stephen Jones, World Fantasy Award-winning editor of ‘Best New Horror’
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And, for those whose pennies won't stretch to the hardcover editions, we are also making it available as a beautiful three-book set of trade paperbacks complete with French flaps and containing all of Reggie Oliver's stunning artwork.
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And given a truly monumentus input from Reggie, it be remiss of us not to let him add a little something. Take it away Reggie
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Did I know what I was letting myself in for when Nicky Crowther asked me to do well over 100 separate illustrations and decorations for Robert Shearman’s great book?
Well, I did and I didn’t. I knew it would be, as they say, “a challenge”, and that it would involve quite a bit of hard work to meet the deadline. And it was. But, to be honest, I did not know quite how hugely I would enjoy it, in spite of the pressure. I had already read a few of the stories contained in this magnum opus, but most I hadn’t. I did not read them all at a sitting but one by one, so that once I had completed one illustration, I would start to read the next story with no idea what I would have to draw next. As the stories were all so fascinating and bizarre, this was a delight, and Robert’s suggestions for images were a great help. It was like unwrapping a mystery parcel, or going on a treasure hunt, looking for clues which would tell you your next destination. And what destinations! I have had to draw God in a pub, a cloud in a bed, a piggy bank on the moon, a telephone box in Hell, a cat on the walls of Troy, a zombie musical and a woman turning into a piano. And believe me, that is a comparatively mild selection. The greatest technical difficulties came where I least expected it. For story number 69, for example, “The Cocktail Party in Kensington Gets Out of Hand”, I had to draw a naked man lying face down on the floor like a bear skin rug, and next to one, with a tiger skin rug on the other side. I simply could not get the foreshortened perspective of the naked man right, so eventually I had to take a photograph of myself (using a tripod and a timer mechanism) lying naked face down on the carpet of my living room, and draw the image from the subsequent photo. In case anyone is wondering, the photograph has since been mercifully destroyed; but the drawn image remains to grace Robert’s astonishing book.
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Fabulous, thanks Reggie. And now over to Nicky for her weekly update.
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I’ve recently been in touch with MacCarthy’s, our slipcase manufacturers, and unfortunately, they have decided to close the factory for the time being. Their team is a small one and they also need to work in close proximity to each other. They also have a group of people who fall into the ‘at risk’ category so it wasn’t possible to continue with the work.
The good news is that the planning and ordering of materials for slipcase orders still continues from their home bases so that when it is safe to return they will be able to start on the practical work of making up the slipcases without waiting for the design to be created and then printed.
This will affect the completion of some of our slipcased editions such as THE BEST OF JEFFREY FORD; THE COMPLETE RYNOSSEROS by Terry Dowling; and Ramsey Campbell’s RETROSPECTIVE AND OTHER PHANTASMAGORICAL STORIES.
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I sent loads of signing sheet orders over to the printers at the beginning of the week so as soon as they arrive back we’ll be posting bundles out to authors and editors.
Talking of signing sheets, I always seem to be talking about signing sheets sheeesh!!!! Angela Slatter has been in touch to say that she has signed and posted the sheets for THE HEART IS A MIRROR FOR SINNERS and we also heard from John R. Fultz letting me know that he is signing and sending the final sheet for MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS REVEALED edited by Darrell Schweitzer. HURRAH!
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Yesterday I spent the afternoon at the Unit preparing the weekly orders but in addition, I was able to put together requests for the unsigned editions of The Best of Darrell Schweitzer’s two-volumed collection, THE LAST HERETIC and THE MYSTERIES OF THE FACELESS KING. Both these volumes sailed into the Unit on Tuesday along with another edition to our trade paperback series THE CURSE OF THE FLEERS by Basil Copper with an introduction from Stephen Jones.
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Regarding Covid -19 we felt it was important to reassure you that as far as your orders are concerned we are doing everything possible to protect the books and packages from contamination. I’ve put together a list of reminders for all the team to follow when they are handling our books.
Wherever possible gloves are being worn when handling the books and if this is not possible then people are being asked to wash their hands regularly following the British government guidelines.
All surfaces, handles, etc are also regularly wiped down with disinfectant. We are a small team so that we are able to coordinate our movements so that there is only one person working in the Unit unless it is the person they are living with.
If any member of the team feels that they are experiencing symptoms of the virus then they have been asked not to visit the unit.
I have also been in touch with our printers and they sent me a copy of their risk assessment stating ‘This is a live document and is being reviewed and amended as required on a daily basis and follows the government guidelines strictly.’
They finished off by saying ‘We are confident that the controls we have in place are adequate to ensure the possible transfer of the virus is kept to the absolute minimum from our end’.
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So as you can see we continue to be as busy as ever. Thanks for all the orders and the lovely emails that keep us going. Royal Mail are collecting parcels twice a week but there is no doubt that the post is taking a little longer than normal to reach its destination, but let’s face it our lives are anything but normal at the moment so one can forgive slight delays like this.
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| Thanks, Nicky. And thanks too to everybody for their patience in these trying times. |
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There’s sunshine here in Hornsea, washing over the stones and brickwork of PS Towers though, of course, it’s not much consolation cos we can’t go outside anyway. But, hey, we have windows and TV sets and food and drinks . . . and, of course, we’ve got books—and so should you too!
A happy Easter to you and yours from all of the PS team—Nicky and me, Mike and Sheryl, Nick, Tamsin, Neil, Robert, Carole, Keith and Wendy. Keep your chin up and stay cool. Much love and stuff from the seaside (I had a good long walk at six oçlock this morning—where were ya?!)
Happy reading.
Pete
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