Paperback Warrior - Conversations

In this episode, I'm talking with Nick from The Book Graveyard and Chris from Liminal Spaces about a 1969 paperback titled To the Dark Tower by Weird Tales author Frank Belknap Long. Is the book an early representative of folk horror? Is it a standard gothic romance paperback? What are the ties to Lovecraft's cosmic horror? We have the answers in this newest episode of the Guide to Gothics series.

Stream the podcast below, on any streaming platform, or watch the collaboration on video HERE.

Listen to "Conversations - The Book Graveyard & Liminal Spaces" on Spreaker.

Underground Airlines

Ben Winters (b. 1976) is a New York Times bestselling author who won an Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America for his 2012 novel The Last Policeman. The book was the first in a trilogy of pre-apocalyptic detective novels. My first experience with the writer is Underground Airlines, a 2016 novel published by Mulholland Books.

The novel is set in an alternate history of the United States, one in which the American Civil War never happened. The book's opening page shows the map of states, some of which are free and some that aren't – meaning slave labor is still legal. These states, which are mostly America's upper East Coast, as well as the “Hard Four”, Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, and California, use forced labor (mostly black) to manufacture goods, for farming, and for household servitude. 

The book's protagonist is Victor, a black undercover agent who works as a U.S. Marshall. His main duty is to hunt escaped slaves and bring them to justice. He's good at it and possesses a stellar resume of apprehensions. However, there's an inner turmoil within Victor that builds throughout the narrative. 

Victor was a slave himself. Throughout the novel, readers are fed pieces of Victor's backstory that reveal his life as a slave, his eventual escape to a free state, and his apprehension by authorities. The feds offered Victor official, legal freedom in exchange for his career as a slave-hunting cop. It is the proverbial “sell the Devil your soul” dish dressed and served deliciously by the author. 

Underground Airlines focuses on Victor's trail to find an escaped slave, a plot that weaves in and out of slave and free states in a compelling mix of unique takes on history and a contemporary look at forced labor in our current society (you're probably wearing clothes stitched by a slave as you read this). I think Winter's novel is a hard look at forced labor and the intricacies of protecting big business and their pockets. It reminded me of classics like Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 and how that book's main character, Guy Montag, begins to question the system and plots ways (with assistance) to upend the immoral fabric of the government. 

You can get this unique, entertaining novel HERE.

Babysitter's Nightmares #04 - A Killer in the House

There were a number of middle school horror and thriller paperbacks in the 1980s and 1990s. I' 've reviewed a few of them here on PW, and created videos discussing these novels. I discovered a series recently that was new to me, Babysitter's Nightmares. This was a short-lived, four-book series of stand-alone thrillers published by HarperPaperbacks, the young adult division of HarperCollins, in 1995. My experience comes by way of A Killer in the House, the series' last installment, authored by J.H. Carroll. 

Sue is a high school student earning extra income by babysitting the Andersons' young son. One night, she stumbles on an envelope left under the typewriter of Mr. Anderson. Inside, she discovers a check being paid to a person identified as R. Stoud for $125K. This fat check leads Sue into a search for who Mr. Anderson really is and what led to his wealth. 

Partnering with her friend Lydia and friend Brett, Sue begins an investigation that leads to some really dark places. Apparently, Mrs. Anderson may have killed her prior husband, stolen his money, and set up a new identity. Is she a black widow preying on rich men? Is Mr. Anderson the next victim?

A Killer in the House isn't the novel I thought it would be. I was prepared for a home-invasion setup with some sadistic psychopath breaking in on a babysitter's shift. Maybe something like the film Black Christmas, playing up the killer in the house title. Remember “the calls are coming from inside the house”? Instead, this short novel is a crime-fiction endeavor with the lead researching the suspect's former employer, a trip to the library for archived press clippings, a discussion at a New York Mets game, and other low-tension affairs. 

While the finale produced some gunfire, fisticuffs, and a few surprises, the book is generally going to attract fans of Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys. It's a fun crime story with a central mystery and the obligatory self-discovery as the protagonist finds herself through the clues chase.

Get the book HERE.

The Wolf in the Clouds

Ron Faust (1936-2011) worked in the newspaper industry in Key West, Colorado Springs, and San Diego. He elected to play professional baseball in the 1950s, but left the sport after just 25 games and two seasons. His first published novel was Snowkill, published in 1970. He authored 14 more books before his passing, most of which are high adventure novels that incorporate skiing, mountain climbing, and philosophy. His intense thriller The Wolf in the Clouds is an avalanche-themed survival novel that also features a deranged psychopath. The book was originally published as a hardcover by Bobbs-Merrill Company in 1977 and in paperback by Popular Library the same year. 

Jack is a family man with a wife and two young children. He works for the U.S. Forestry Service and specializes in avalanche prevention and recovery. As the book begins, Jack's co-worker Frank arrives at Jack's house and explains that their assignment is to retrieve three college kids who have vacationed in a secluded, faraway cabin near the top of fictitious Mt. Wolf. As the two leave the house, Jack's wife begs him to consider moving his job to a different area of expertise or a safer geographical area. 

En route to the base of the mountain, Jack discovers Frank has brought a rifle for the rescue mission. In a philosophical debate that permeates throughout the novel, Jack argues that the gun is not the answer. He questions Frank's intentions and explains that the homicidal maniac was once a friend and co-worker. It's explained that the maniac is Ralph, a quiet man who befriended Jack a year or two earlier on the job. Ralph even rescued Jack during an avalanche, so the two share a bond. Yet, Jack understands Ralph's psychotic tendencies. The killer murdered his landlord and shot several skiers before running from fugitives into the icy wilderness. He's a mass shooter on the run, which is ultimately Frank's defense in bringing a rifle for the rescue. Smart guy.

Eventually, Jack and Frank reach the mountaintop and meet with the three college kids. Ralph arrives as well, and all Hell breaks loose. People are shot and killed, Ralph takes the cabin and captures Jack and two college kids. The novel's second half is a high-tension cat-and-mouse affair as Jack talks with Ralph to de-escalate the situation. Yet without a gun, Jack realizes his efforts are useless and likely to cost him his life. No one is getting out of the cabin without a struggle.

The Wolf in the Clouds is an excellent thriller that incorporates philosophy and high adventure. Jack is aloof and weak, the opposite of a paperback warrior. The idea of combatting violence without violence sounds great in theory, but spells disaster for these college kids and Jack. Despite Jack's efforts to talk to Ralph, the maniac ultimately descends into some really dark places fueled by sexual frustration, psychotic fantasies, and a deep desire to kill people to liberate their Earthly bodies for a space trip. Ralph is the cult leader without a cult, Jack is the white-hatted hero without a gun. Faust blends all of these into a fascinating novel that piqued my interest in his bibliography. Recommended. Get his books HERE.

Mean Business on North Ganson Street

S. Craig Zahler is a terrific independent screenwriter and an accomplished novelist. His 2014 violent crime novel, Mean Business on North Ganson Street, was to be adapted into a movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Jamie Foxx, but it seems the film project never happened.

Our hero is Jules Bettinger, age 50. He’s a tough and cynical black police detective in Arizona. For largely political reasons involving an unfortunate civilian death, he’s fired from his position on the force. His chief made some calls and landed him a job as a police detective in a rustbelt city called Victory, Missouri. The town is a cesspool of rapes, abductions and murders. They could use a seasoned detective.

Victory is a shithole among shitholes resembling Sin City from the Frank Miller comic books. Dangerous thugs wielding pipes are everywhere. The “Welcome to Victory” sign at the city limits is smeared with excrement greeting visitors with miles of dilapidated tenements and dead pigeons adorning every street.

Bettinger’s first case in Victory is a murder-rape (in that order) on Ganston Street, and the book starts looking like a normal police procedural. Not so fast! Zahler’s plotting takes two abrupt turns becoming an investigation into police corruption, then a violent serial killer manhunt.

Ganston Street’s characters are vivid and morally-ambiguous. Characters that stand on virtue are dragged into the muck when a case becomes personal. As a lead character, Bettinger is super-smart and capable. But the real star of the novel is the dungheap town of Victory. Zahler pours it on thick making Victory far-and-away the most putrid city in America — making Gary, Indiana look like Downtown Disney.

To enjoy a Zahler book, you need to be comfortable with an extreme amount of graphic violence. A rotting pigeon is shoved down the throat of a non-compliant subject. Brain matter splatters against the ceiling in an office suicide. All of this is in service if the plot and never gratuitous, but you need to make peace with these sequences as a reader. Some of the descriptions were hard to read.

The mysteries of the novel are all neatly resolved by the end with characters having gone to hell and back to bring these matters to a close. Mean Business on Ganson Street isn’t Zahler’s masterpiece (that would be The Slanted Gutter), but it’s a damn-fine xxxtreme police procedural mystery-crime-corruption-vendetta novel that will keep you glued to the pages. 

Get the book HERE.

The Turn of the Screw

Henry James (1843-1916) authored a number of celebrated works, like The Wings of the Dove, The Golden Bowl, and The Ambassadors. However, his reputation is mostly synonymous with the ghost story The Turn of the Screw. The work was originally published in Collier's Weekly in 1898, then reprinted in numerous formats as part of The Two Magics collection, The Aspern Papers, and stand-alone editions by a variety of publishers. Maintaining the novella's relevancy are the endless adaptations. There have been at least seven film adaptations, ten television series productions, numerous stage performances, and a radio play. I read and enjoyed the book when I was much younger. As part of my collaboration with Nick Anderson at The Book Graveyard, I agreed to revisit the novella for a discussion on gothic paperbacks. 

The basis of the novella is told in first-person perspective from an unnamed narrator. She is the newly hired governess for a boy and a girl living in a large country house in Essex, England. While ages are never provided, I guess that Miles is around 14-16 years of age. He was attending boarding school and has been dismissed for the summer. Later, it is disclosed through a letter that Miles has been permanently kicked out of the school for some undisclosed act. Flora is Miles' younger sister. Based on clues in the novel, I speculate she is around 4-5 years of age. 

Through the narrative, the governess learns that two of her predecessors mysteriously died. While outside on the front lawn, the governess looks up to see a strange man inside the house walking along the tower. Later, the governess sees a malevolent woman dressed in black standing near the children. These appearances continue throughout the narrative, leading readers to question the narrator's mental state. In the narrator's defense, the children behave as if they see these two people as well. Later, the governess describes the people to Mrs. Grose, the housekeeper, and she confirms that these two entities could be the prior “dead” predecessors that tutored the children. 

The Turn of the Screw is a difficult novella to read. The prose and language are Victorian, creating abrasion for readers (i.e. “presumable sequestration”). The most straightforward scenes are described in abstract details that blur the actual events. There is too much anonymity to allow readers to connect to these characters, a strangeness that constructs and seals too many details. I conclude that James purposefully wrote the work in a vague way to create an air of mystery in the whole text. Either this presentation will work for you or it won't. The first time I read the novella, I was intrigued and overly enthusiastic about it. This time, I found the writing tedious and the pace sluggish.

While there are terrifying moments, the way they are described isn't captivating or revealing. Perhaps at the time of publication, this had more of an impact, but in 2025, the horror is tepid at best. I think I'm more moved by the general idea of the novella and the inspiration it provided for gothic paperbacks and films (The Others, The Woman in Black come to mind). There's no questioning the work's positive impact on modern thrillers and horror, and for that reason, I'm appreciative of James' contribution to the genre. You owe it to yourself to read the novella and come to your own conclusions.

Get a version you like HERE.

X-Files - The Calusari

Garth Nix was born in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. He was a sales rep and publicist before becoming a senior editor at HarperCollins. He later became a literary agent for Curtis Brown Pty Ltd before becoming a full-time author. He created and wrote the fantasy series Old Kingdom, consisting of six novels, as well as young-adult fantasy titles like The Seventh Tower, The Keys to the Kingdom, and two series co-written with Sean Williams, Have Sword, Will Travel and Troubletwisters. 

Nix kicked off the young adult line of X-Files novelizations in 1997 with the first installment, The Calusari, published by Scholastic. There were 16 of these books from 1997 through 2000, all of which were written by different authors and adapted from the television show episodes. “The Calusari” was the show's twenty-first episode of the second season, originally airing April 14, 1995. 

I always enjoyed the show's monster-of-the-week episodes the most. While I love X-Files, I found the through-story arc with alien invasion and cover-ups way too convoluted. These unconnected, stand-alone episodes are really where the show shines, and this episode is one of the most frightening of the franchise. 

The book, at 116 pages, features an exorcist sort of take on a child's death. In the opener (pre-theme music), Maggie and her husband Steve are at a small amusement park in Virginia. They have their two small sons with them, Teddy and Charlie. In a freak occurrence, Teddy is struck by a train while pursuing a balloon that appears to be floating against the wind. The X-Files become involved after evidence shows the balloon's trajectory and the possibility of a ghost that led Teddy to his death.

Mulder and Scully become involved in the investigation, which takes some unusual turns with Romanian customs, Charlie's bizarre grandmother, Maggie's unwillingness to succumb to the family's odd traditions, and marital woes in the wake of Teddy's death. There is a disturbing plot element introduced that suggests Charlie's dead twin may be an evil force bent on destroying the family. The Calusari emerge as the family's mysterious religious sect pitted against evil.

Novelizations are tricky. One of the most alluring aspects of these novels is the possibility of introducing a different perspective, more depth to certain film or episode scenes, different takes on the source material, or something else. The Calusari doesn't offer much to supplement the episode. This is nearly word-for-word a transcription of the episode, with a few perspective pieces coming from the train driver and Maggie's relationship with her mother-in-law. Aside from that, this is literally an episode on paper. It was brisk, enjoyable, and I don't regret reading it. But it adds nothing to the episode.

Get The Calusari HERE.