New and improved website, will be adding more content in the coming weeks:

 

 

Stagecoach & Psychopath. This palatial movie theater was a couple of miles from the neighborhood where I grew up. Psychopath was actually The Psychopath, a 1966 Amicus film written by Robert Bloch. I was too young to see it, but this sort of bleak landscape became a blank canvas for my imagination, helped push me into the worlds of fantasy and horror.

(Edit: Actually, this looks pretty much like the town I live in now. Full circle!)

 Announcing... Entr'acte Club Archives Volume 1: Booth Merlin, Cryptomusicologist. Eight tales of anomalous musical phenomena in the spirit of Joseph Jorkens, Brigadier Ffellowes and Thomas Carnacki. None of the selections have been previously published. One-man band project: stories, cover, layout, typos, etc. Currently PDF only.   

**Available now at DriveThruFiction.com

Print version?

 In the works. I am in the early stages of learning how to prepare a book file for print. Handing it over to a small press publisher would be preferable, though. If you know anyone who might be interested, let me know.

djprill@outlook.com

There is a preview over at DriveThruFiction, but in case you haven’t had a chance to visit yet, Volume 1 includes these tales:

*Strange Case of Jacqueline/Heidi

*Seance for Harp and Planchette 

*The Whippen

*New Year's Eve Tale

*Keeper of the Cane

*Sonata for a Sea Monster

*Night of the Imposter

*The Sinister Sistrum

That’s 276 pages of club tale goodness.

 First book I ever purchased. So many big names that Robert E. Howard, William Hope Hodgson and Algernon Blackwood didn't make it onto the cover. Contains the great Carnacki tale, "The Gateway of the Monster."  

 "Later, when dinner was finished, Carnacki snugged himself comfortably down in his big chair, along with his pipe, and began his story, with very little circumlocution..."

 

My first encounter with club tales was in the second issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction I had ever read. December 1976, Sterling Lanier’s fine Brigadier Ffellowes story, “Ghost of a Crown,” featured on the cover. The neighborhood I grew up in was a model of banality, so the notion that if I rode my bike far enough I would come upon a club devoted to imagination and adventure was enthralling.