Update: Flame and Crimson reviews

It's hard to believe but I'm closing in on one year since the publication of Flame and Crimson: A History of Sword-and-Sorcery. I sent the final edits over to Bob McLain at Pulp Hero Press in December 2019, and the book was available on Amazon shortly after the turn of the new year. I waited some 5-6 weeks with baited breath for the first reveiws, not knowing if the book sucked, was wildly off-base, boring, etc. To anyone who has ever written a book, we are brothers in arms and I can safely say I don't envy you this experience. I would sort of compare it to baring a piece of my soul with total strangers. Fear of rejection, ridicule, etc. are very real obstacles.

To say that I'm happy with the response is an understatement. As of this post it's received 32 reviews on Amazon, averaging 4.7 out of 5 stars. Goodreads has tracked an additional 17 reviews, averaging 4.35 out of 5 stars.

Beyond the numbers, I've been thrilled with the words of those who have taken the time to share their thoughts about the book. I don't know these folks from Adam, but to read comments like these is incalculably rewarding:

I feel like I have been waiting years for someone to write a book like this. Sure, others have tried on occasion, but no one really did a comprehensive capture of the genre before now. And this is not just a history, but a thematic synthesis and-dare I say it-a work of literary criticism. 

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Well structured, researched, and written, this is a great text for those who wish to write in the genre and those who've done some reading, but aren't sure about the best path to take in exploring it further.

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I admit my vision is rose colored. The author is nearly my age and came upon his love for Swords & Sorcery (he actually prefers swords and sorcery—I am not as picky) in an almost identical way as I. He even shares my adoration of Heavy Metal tunes. 

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Much self-published sf and fantasy criticism is not very good - but Murphy's book is very well written. He is not an academic so we are spared the typical turgid prose that comes from University presses. Highly recommended. 

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All that is most interesting, but Murphy is also ENTERTAINING while explaining. The book is never boring and always fun to read; sometime I actually laughed out loud. But you always feel that he is serious about his topic and the involved research, so it never gets silly. Do yourself a favor and buy this book.

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If you are at all interested in the history and cultural impact of S&S literature, this book is definitely worth your while. Every time I wanted to raise a little quibble with something the author said, my objection was answered within two pages. Informative and entertaining!

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Just today I was treated to an amazingly kind review from Bill Ward over at Tales from the Magician's Skull (which if you're a fan of S&S and not subscribed to, you're doing yourself a disservice). This last paragraph made every bit of the six+ years of effort that went into the conception, research, and writing of Flame and Crimson worth the struggle:

I’ve been searching high and low for this book for years, but of course, no one had written it yet! I’m glad Brian Murphy finally did because he has produced no less a seminal work than Lin Carter’s Imaginary Worlds (1973) or Don Herron’s The Dark Barbarian (1984). In recent decades we’ve had some amazing essays and deep scholarship in the field, and a first-rate biography of Robert E. Howard (Mark Finn’s Blood & Thunder), but no one had filled the real need for a single volume, narratively coherent history of sword-and-sorcery until Flame and Crimson. But make no mistake, Murphy’s book isn’t simply good because it’s necessary, it’s indispensable because it’s magnificent.

There are other reviews worth sharing, and I will at some point. Flame and Crimson is certainly not perfect, and there are things I wish I had done differently. 

But for now, to anyone who has read and enjoyed this book, THANK YOU. I hope in some measure I have helped to illuminate the highs (and fun lows) of this remarkable fantasy subgenre. And have entertained you along the way.

Bloodstone and The Lord of the Rings post up on DMR blog

During a recent re-read of Karl Edward Wagner's Bloodstone I was struck by what appears to be some parallels and similarities to certain scenes in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. I started jotting down a few notes, and that became this 3,500 or so word essay over at DMR Blog. Check it out if you're interested.

For the record, I don't know for certain if KEW read LOTR prior to Bloodstone, and if he hadn’t that renders the observations in my essay entirely coincidental. There are many folks who knew Wagner personally who might be able to shed more light on this subject. But with all three volumes of LOTR available by 1956, and drafts of Bloodstone dating back to the early 60s before it was finally published in 1975, its possible KEW read it. The timing works out.

I don't think Bloodstone owes much to LOTR at all, and I don't think Karl was particularly influenced by it, other than riffing off certain scenes, sequences, and perhaps the nature of the ring. Regardless, this was a fun one to write.

Love it or hate it (I have done both)—a re-examination of Judas Priest’s Turbo

Better run for cover...

Back in the mid-1980s a civil war was brewing in heavy metal. On one side were the standard bearers of “true metal,” fans of Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath, and Anthrax and Metallica. These bands rocked hard and built loyal fanbases with almost no commercial airplay or MTV time (the exception was Headbangers Ball, which safely confined them to the midnight hour when all respectable watchers were tucked safely in bed). Their fans were tough, wore denim and leather, and were proud of their bands. On the other side were the manufactured pop metal acts, bands like Poison and Warrant and Winger, who may have believed in what they did and often were quite capable musicians, but nevertheless had a pretty boy, teased hair look and shallow bubble-gum lyrics designed to appeal to a broad audience. These acts were known as “hair metal,” or in some corners (including my own), "false metal."

This division was best articulated in the lyrics of the loinclothed and sword-wielding American heavy metal band Manowar, which sang loud and proud that the War was On, man, and it was time to choose a side:

Every one of us has heard the call
Brothers of True Metal proud and standing tall
We know the power within us has brought us to this hall
there's magic in the metal there's magic is us all

Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers leave the hall
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers go on get out
Leave the hall

Now the world must listen to our decree
We don't turn down for anyone we do just what we please
got to make it louder, all men play on ten
If you're not into metal, you are not my friend

(Manowar, “Metal Warriors”)

As an impressionable teenager and fan whose identity was tied to heavy metal music, I can tell you that I was in fact swept up in this faux conflict, and was a real man who played his boom box on ten. I knew with certainty which side I was on, and so I joined the ranks of those who mocked Judas Priest’s Turbo (1986). OK, so I did not actually outwardly mock the album, but I viewed it with a definite feeling of disappointment. It was hard to swallow that the same metal gods who gave us songs like “Beyond the Realms of Death” and “Victim of Changes” were in fact all too human, and could succumb to the forces of commercialism with an album that so obviously sought to capitalize on the popularity of the likes of Motley Crue and Def Leppard.

In short, Turbo felt a little like Priest had left the ranks of true metal and joined the false. There is nothing worse than a Benedict Arnold. I felt betrayed.

Some thoughts on Jack Vance's "Liane The Wayfarer"

There wasn't a whole lot going on in the 1940s for sword-and-sorcery. You had Skull Face and Others by Arkham House, published in 1946, Unknown published 4-5 Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories. There were a few other exceptions. But in general it was like someone pressed the pause button on the subgenre after the creative outburst of Weird Tales.

Then came Jack Vance's The Dying Earth, published by Hillman Periodicals in 1950. Boom. I want to talk about one of my favorites from that fine collection, “Liane the Wayfarer.” Apparently this story also appeared in the December 1950 issue of Worlds Beyond magazine, though the details of this are sketchy.

The main character Liane is a genuine prick—S&S through and through. Mercenary, but much worse than the selfish Cugel. He casually kills a merchant, and is put out that the man dared to splash blood on his sandals. The nerve! He’s ready to rape a golden haired “witch” named Lith after spying on her as she bathes in a stream. She barely manages to fend off his amorous advances with the threat of ensorcelled knives. Liane is possessed of a “manifest will and power” and so believes that gives him the right to take her.

But Lith is cunning. The witch is in possession of a beautiful tapestry depicting an idyllic valley, but it's ripped in half. The other half is with a being called Chun the Unavoidable. Lith tells Liane he can have her, if he gets the other half of the tapestry.

Liane is cocksure of his success, as he has in his possession a magic ring, which he found while digging a pit for the body of murdered merchant. When worn the ring transports him to an alternate plane of existence, rendering him invisible to the eye or perhaps whisking him away from this plane entirely. It works like a D&D bag of holding.

This is Vance, a master stylist, so the writing of course is exquisite. Describing the Dying Earth, Vance writes of “the red sun, drifting across the universe like an old man creeping to his death bed.” Vance does a brilliant job building up the suspense, dropping clues about Chun and steadily increasing the menace (and in turn the unease in the reader). For example, Liane mentions Chun to a group of wizards in an inn. They slink off, avoiding conversation. Liane finds a series of corpses, some warriors in armor, brave men, but all without eyes, staring up at the sky with empty sockets. 

But he presses on. Liane encounters an old man trying to warn him off from Chun. Liane casually kills him by dropping a rock on his head. Did I mention he's an absolute bastard?

Liane approaches Chun's lair, and you can feel the quiet and the dull thudding of Liane’s heart as he eyes the tapestry. This is so well done (fiction writers take note, and read this scene).

Then comes the ending, which is a terrible shock. “Behind came Chun” repeated, inevitable, “running like a dog.” And the end is simply chilling, utterly disturbing. Lith gets another thread in her tapestry.

One final detail about "Liane the Wayfarer"--it was converted into a brief D&D scenario. Does anyone remember the RPG magazine White Dwarf? White Dwarf no. 48 (October 1984, which I have, and bought fresh off the newsstand from a local game store, and you cannot have) contained the mini-module "Chun the Unavoidable" of course based on this story. The accompanying artwork was simple but effective, depicting Chun as a creepy ape-like being with a skull face and a cloak made of human eyeballs.

Nice.

Stephen King, Halloween, and the joy of reading

I own this edition,
just a lot more beat up.

Yesterday evening I experienced an unmitigated pleasure. The nonsense and hard work of the day was done, I had come back from a visit with my old man, it was drawing on 7:30. A delicious feeling had come over me that only comes in the lead up to Halloween. Out the window to my left was darkness. A weird glow on the porch, cast by the decorative seasonal orange lights we have around the frame of the front door.

I was looking forward to the next bit from the moment I woke up, and it had arrived.

Getting back into my heavily tattered old paperback copy of  'Salem's Lot. 

In a few minutes I was back in the old Maine town, the creepy Marsten House on the hill overlooking the small-town characters and their petty affairs and gossip, and the horror that would soon be visited upon them from messieurs Straker and Barlow. I know this story very well, but nothing in it is diminished. I still get the old thrill from the terror that comes on Danny and Ralphie Glick on the shortcut to Mark Petrie's house. They were planning to see his Aurora plastic monsters collection (remember those?) but Ralphie would never be seen from again. And Danny would be... changed.

Accompanying this was the realization that if I never had to turn on the television again, I'm quite certain I would survive.

I watch essentially zero television. With amazing intensity and the conviction of born again Christians I hear as people talk about Breaking Bad, or The Office, or Ozarks, or The British Baking Championship, or whatever show happens to be the most awesome/best show ever/you can't possibly miss this/I can't believe you haven't seen this! fad of the moment (inevitably such show gives way to the next such show, which cannot be missed but I can't believe you haven't seen The Sopranos!). It's a language I don't understand. I smile, and listen, but can't participate in it.

I don't think I'm superior to them, I don't begrudge their habits (I have my own), I would even admit that TV has probably gotten a lot better from the days when Harlan Ellison wrote of the glass teat and the banality of The Mary Tyler Moore show.

I just prefer reading. It's my go-to medium for entertainment. It's amazing how much joy I can still wring out of a $2 Signet paperback. 

I would miss horror movies. I will say that I'm pleased to have introduced my 15-year-old daughter, a budding horror movie fan, to the likes of Scream, The Shining, Silence of the Lambs, and The Ring. But for pure joy even these films don't beat old Stephen King, or Lovecraft, or Poe. Words on a page that can captivate, and terrify. I wish I could get her into these stories, man.

Work in progress.

Some new sword-and-sorcery titles worth a look

Here at The Silver Key I spend most of my time talking classic sword-and-sorcery, but I’ve been keeping track of some new releases that I thought were worth reporting on. My wallet will be feeling the pinch in the coming weeks. 

Swords & Sorceries: Tales of Heroic Fantasy: Volume 1. I’m really liking this old school cover by Jim Pitts, and the editor Steve Dilks knows sword-and-sorcery. Looks like a great new collection.

Necromancy in Nilztiria by D.M. Ritzlin and The Godblade by J. Christopher Tarpey, from DMR Books. DMR is the most committed publisher of sword-and-sorcery today, republishing classic titles and issuing original works. I haven’t been disappointed with Swords of Steel or Heroes of Atlantis & Lemuria, and Renegade Swords, another purchase, is on my TBR pile. These two new titles look excellent also.

New Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories coming from Tales from the Magician’s Skull. I’m a subscriber to Tales from the Magician’s Skull and am interested how they plan to handle these classic characters. Leiber had such a unique voice, and it’s not clear if author Nathan Long will be using the characters to tell new stories, or will try to imitate Leiber’s style (the way this release is written I’m leaning toward the former). I’m on record as saying I have no problem with pastiche, or writing new stories using classic characters, as long as they are not passed off as works of the original author. Adrian Cole has done some excellent work with new stories of Elak of Atlantis, for example.

Barbarians at the Gates of Hollywood: Sword and Sorcery Movies of the 1980s. Black Gate’s review by Fletcher Vredenburgh of this title convinced me I should give it a shot. Other than Conan the Barbarian and perhaps a couple others, sword-and-sorcery’s silver screen boom was uniformly terrible, but a detailed history of how this phenomenon came to be is up my alley.

Robert E. Howard: A Closer Look (Hippocampus Press). An update of a 1987 title by Charles Hoffman and Marc Cerasini. Looks like a solid study. More Howard scholarship is always welcomed.

Recording of "The Best Sword & Sorcery of the 20th Century" panel now available

Last night I spent the better part of 2 1/2 hours in an interesting, rambling discussion about sword-and-sorcery with the likes of Howard Andrew Jones, Jeff Goad, Bill Ward, and Jason Ray Carney, part of the ongoing Bride of Cyclops Con online convention. It was a blast. We covered a lot of ground in that time--the definition of S&S, its literary roots, must-read stories, a few dark horses, the late Charles Saunders, book porn (I couldn't stop myself from flashing multiple book covers), and many other fun side-trails and asides.

I'm far more comfortable behind the keyboard than on-camera, but I have to say the time flew by and I spent most of the panel grinning ear-to-ear. I hope I had a few insights to add about my favorite subgenre. I want to thank Howard and the folks over at Goodman Games for the opportunity.  

The highlight for me was learning that Jason owns a first edition, signed, hard-cover copy of Poul Anderson's The Broken Sword. That almost broke my geekmeter.

Check out the recording of the panel here.

Upcoming panel session: "The Best Sword & Sorcery Stories of the 20th Century"

On Friday Oct. 16 I'll be taking part in an S&S panel session, part of the (wonderfully named) Bride of Cyclops Con, an online convention hosted by Goodman Games. Goodman Games is the publisher of the fine Dungeon Crawl Classics line of role playing games, as well as the Tales from the Magician's Skull S&S magazine, of which I'm a subscriber..

Below are the panel details.

A lot more S&S goodness is going on in the track, with sessions with publishers, authors, and RPG designers. Apparently you can watch these sessions free of charge on the Goodman Games Official "Twitch" channel (what is Twitch? I don't know, now get offa my lawn!).

It's a great group of panelists and I'm honored to be part of it.

“The Best Sword & Sorcery Stories of the 20th Century” – Friday, October 16, 6:00 pm-8:00 pm EST

Six sword-and-sorcery fans and scholars compare notes about the important works in the genre, starting with foundational fiction and moving on to more recent times. This panel will talk details, not just an author’s name, but why a particular story or novel is worthy of note.

Panelists:

Brian Murphy, author of Flame & Crimson

Dr. Jason Ray Carney, author of Weird Tales of Modernity, editor of Whetsone and co-editor of The Dark Man

Bill Ward, Online Editor for Tales From the Magician’s Skull

Howard Andrew Jones, Editor Tales From the Magician’s Skull

Jeff Goad, co-host of the ENnie nominated podcast Appendix N Book Club

Steve Tompkins at 60

Deuce Richardson at DMR Blog asked me to write something to commemorate what would have been Steve Tompkins 60th birthday today, had he had not passed at the far too early age of 48 back in March of 2009.

I chose for the occasion a look back at Steve's first official post on the old Cimmerian blog. "Maybe Not a Boom, But a Drumbeat" isn't a classic, sprawling, deep essay like the ones Steve carved out a legacy writing, but it's a fun, witty, inside look at the state of Howard scholarship and questions regarding his legacy circa 2006.

Check it out here if you're interested. RIP Steve (and since I'm in a mourning mood, RIP to the great Eddie Van Halen, who today passed at 65 after a long battle with cancer). 

Heavy metal party and The Priest, part 3

(This is a story about how from 2011-2018 I hosted the ultimate heavy metal party and survived to tell the tale. Read parts 1 and 2 here and here).

Are you ready for some
Judas Priest-style heavy metal?

Despite the metal party to end all metal parties in 2016, my house was not destroyed, my neighbors did not unite to force the sale of my home, and so the metal party would return in 2017. As always it was a blast. We upped the costuming. I went with Gene Simmons face paint and an Iron Maiden T-shirt. Others showed up with big hair, leather pants, and denim jackets with back patches. We sang karaoke. Late night featured a bucket of ice cold Zima, that semi-nasty clear malted beverage which made a reappearance after disappearing from the shelves for more than a decade (after drinking one, I quickly came to the realization that it was probably better off staying retired). I suppose I didn’t need those Fireball shots at the bar but we did them anyway. KISS or Fiction made another appearance.

Later we voted on which videos had the hottest chick: “Kiss me Deadly” with Lita Ford, a recut version of Cinderella’s “Shake Me” featuring a gorgeous stripper, or “Here I Go Again” with Tawny Kitaen (if I recall, the latter won). We also cast our votes for worst heavy metal video ever, with Manowar’s “Gloves of Steel,” Thor’s “Anger is my Middle Name”, and King Kobra’s “Iron Eagle (Never Say Die)” competing for the dubious title. Thor was a runaway winner, for the record this video is bad beyond belief and I don’t recommend subjecting yourself to it, unless you’ve imbibed 6-8 Zimas to numb the pain.

But despite the fun I couldn’t help but compare the party to the year prior, when we had nearly blown the roof off the house with a live band. In hindsight it seemed rather anticlimactic.

For 2018, I once again put in a call for The Priest.

They responded, Screaming for Vengeance.

A review of Tom Shippey’s Laughing Shall I Die: Lives and Deaths of the Great Vikings

The man, the myth... Tom Shippey

As a Professor Emeritus of Saint Louis University, Tom Shippey understands the current trends shaping historical research, far more than I. For example, I did not know that historians have been re-interpreting the record to paint Vikings as well, less Viking-y. Less savage, more tame. Less raid-y, more farmer-y and trade-y. Many of the corny old myths surrounding Vikings—horned helmets and drinking wine from skulls of their enemies and the like—have rightfully been reframed as romantic sentiment rather than historical reality, but I didn’t realize the extent to which this re-evaluation of the Viking character was working overtime in the halls of academia.

Laughing Shall I Die: Lives and Deaths of the Great Vikings (2018, Reaktion Books) is Shippey’s semi-bombastic rebuttal to the revisionists and whitewashers. It’s not that Vikings weren’t also great traders, or slowly shifted from raiders and slave-takers to land-owners and eventually settlers, but Saga literature and even the archeological record paints a picture of savagery and warrior ethos that can’t be so easily explained away.

“Academics have laboured to create a comfort-zone in which Vikings can be massaged into respectability,” Shippey writes. “But the Vikings and the Viking mindset deserve respect and understanding in their own terms—while no one benefits from staying inside their comfort zone, not even academics. This book accordingly offers a guiding hand into a somewhat, but in the end not-so-very, alien world. Disturbing though it may be.”

Shippey lays out these uncomfortable facts in entertaining style in Laughing Shall I Die. This book takes a close look at the old Norse poems and sagas, and uses them to create a psychological portrait of the Viking mindset. But it also goes a step further: It interprets the findings from archeology and recent excavations to lend these literary interpretations tangible and physical reinforcement. For example, Shippey describes the discovery of two recent Viking Age mass graves in England, one on the grounds of St. John’s College, Oxford, the other on the Dorset Ridgeway. Both were organized mass executions, the latter the single largest context of multiple decapitations from the period. Fearsome stuff.

Heavy metal party and The Priest, part 2

The Quilt, made of Judas Priest concert Ts

Murph's 6th annual Metal Party is back, and this one goes to 11! The can't-miss metal event of year will feature the live music of The Priest, New England's premier Judas Priest tribute band. Wear your faded concert t-shirts and denim jackets and strap your leather cod pieces on tight. Prepare for yet another round of "classick" metal trivia, bad late night videos, and oft-told, slightly exaggerated stories of metal concerts from decades past. Metal rules, my friends, so "head out to the highway" to celebrate.

Food, some booze, and locale provided, but bring your own favorite drinks and apps or desserts welcomed. Hat will be passed around to defray some costs of band.

--Description from the Facebook page of Murph’s Metal Party, 6th annual

I knew I was in trouble when Tom, aka, KK Downing, pulled into my driveway with a minivan LOADED with equipment. I mean, this thing was jammed floor to ceiling with amplifiers, sound board, wires, guitars, god knows what.

“Holy shit, you guys brought a lot of equipment,” I said, bug-eyed as I stared at the pile of noise generating electronics that would soon be making its way into my living room.

“Oh no, that’s just mine,” Tom replied. His face was utterly dead pan and humorless.

Oh shit, I thought.

Heavy metal party and The Priest, Part 1

For five years, from 2011-2015, I hosted an annual heavy metal themed party. And had a blast. Ultimately it grew into something much more. Here’s the story…

It started out modest, a gathering of 8-9 buddies. My wife and daughters were out of state visiting my sister-in-law, a girls’ weekend. To celebrate my short-term bachelorhood I decided what I needed was a guy’s weekend, a gathering to drink beer and listen to heavy metal with some dudes. No more no less. We’ve all been there.

That first year we drank too much beer and ate ribs off the smoker. My old man did the cooking and stuck around for a few cold ones. I threw a few bags of chips on the table. We may or may not have ended up at a gentlemen’s club late night. No different than your average guy’s hangout. If there was one underlying commonality an outsider to the gathering might have noticed, it was the soundtrack and the garb: We listened exclusively to heavy metal, and many of us were wearing metal t-shirts.

A theme began to coalesce.

I think it was my friend Scott who eventually dubbed the gathering “the metal party” because of the music, the general crude nature of the affair, and the scarcity of women (metal concerts are largely sausage fests). The name stuck, and an informal guy’s hangout became something more.

Heavy metal. It's coming.

I've got a hell of a story to tell that I'm working on for the blog. Will be a few more days. Stay tuned.

Farewell to Charles Saunders

Word spread on Facebook last night that Charles Saunders, author of Imaro, has passed away. It is being reported he died in May. Odd that an obituary search turns up empty. 

Let's hope it may be a rumor, but it does not appear that way. Author Milton Davis, who continued in Saunders' "Sword-and-Soul" tradition, broke the news, and many authors, friends, and peers have chimed in since.

Imaro and its subsequent volumes deserves a longer post than I have time for at the moment, but I consider these terrific works of sword-and-sorcery. If not at the level of Howard/Leiber/Moorcock/Anderson, they rank up there with Henry Kuttner, Karl Edward Wagner, David Drake, and many other fine authors. 

I regret not contacting Saunders when I had the chance to let him know how much I enjoyed his work. Nyumbani, Saunders' fantastic parallel of Africa, is a rich and sharply realized setting worth exploring, and Imaro is a memorable character with a dark past whose relentless search turned inward, far more than most sword-and-sorcery heroes. As a black author working in a largely white field, Saunders was a pioneer and penned many thoughtful essays on his complex relationship with fantasy fiction and sword-and-sorcery ("Die Black Dog!" is worth seeking out). His stuff absolutely deserves a bigger following. The late Steve Tompkins of The Cimmerian website was one of Saunders' biggest champions and found a rich, mythic layer to the Imaro cycle.

Rest in peace.

Masculinity in S&S? It’s complicated

Sword and sorcery is strongly masculine and appeals to men. We can see this same ethos in the Arnold Schwarzenegger movies of the 1980s and early 90s. Take a look at this scene from Predator and ask yourself what it plays to.

The most manly handshake ever, bar none.

And then ask yourself, is this cool? Is it OK to like this? My answer is an emphatic hell yes. Men who read S&S tend to like fictional depictions of violence and strength. As I’ve said elsewhere, dynamism, power, and muscular strength are among the elements that draw me to the work of Frank Frazetta, for example.

Make no mistake: I love this stuff. I was drawn to it as a kid, and inspired to pick up weights to try to look like my heroes of the comics and silver screen. Today I continue to champion and defend it. I push back, hard, against censorious critics who want this type of fiction memory-holed. You can pry my sword-and-sorcery from my cold, dead fingers. There’s a reason I and if I daresay the broader “we” are drawn to tales featuring swordplay, bloodletting, and fast-paced action. These stories tap into the same psychological wellsprings and biological impulses that help explain our love for professional football, boxing, and strongman sports.

Sword-and-sorcery is loaded with beefcake and masculine heroes. Here is a typical description of Conan, from “The Devil in Iron”:

As the first tinge of dawn reddened the sea, a small boat with a solitary occupant approached the cliffs. The man in the boat was a picturesque figure. A crimson scarf was knotted about his head; his wide silk breeches, of flaming hue, were upheld by a broad sash which likewise supported a scimitar in a shagreen scabbard. His gilt-worked leather boots suggested the horseman rather than the seaman, but he handled his boat with skill. Through his widely open silk shirt showed his broad muscular breast, burned brown by the sun.

The muscles of his heavy bronzed arms rippled as he pulled the oars with an almost feline ease of motion. A fierce vitality that was evident in each feature and motion set him apart from common men; yet his expression was neither savage nor somber; though the smoldering blue eyes hinted at ferocity easily wakened.

I’ll stick my neck out a bit, risk the critical axe of politically correct criticism, and say that as a result of its emphasis on violence and power, sword-and-sorcery appeals to boys and men, in far larger quantities than women.

But like life, art, and politics, even sword-and-sorcery is not this simple.

The best heavy metal guitar solo ever

I'm not qualified to render this judgement. I've got the time in to make an educated guess, as I've been listening to heavy metal since the mid-1980s, some 35 years I'd guess. But what I lack is the required breadth. I'm not a big fan of death metal, or black metal, or doom, or some of the other peripheral subgenres, and so can't speak to any solos that might exist in these far-flung corners of metal. Nor was I ever a fan of the true guitar virtuosos. I admire and respect the craft of the Steve Vais, Yngwie Malmsteins, and Joe Satrianis of the world, and admit they are probably the most talented guitarists to come out of metal, but I find I lack an emotional attachment to their music that keeps me from being a fan.

Most damning of all I don't play guitar. I cannot tell you what makes one solo better from another from a learned musician's perspective, and I lack the technical vocabulary to analyze music properly.

So to make a long story short your mileage may very well differ.

But for me, my favorite heavy metal guitar solo and the one that continues to leave me speechless with wonder is Marty Friedman's solo in "Tornado of Souls." I appreciate guitar solos that don't insist upon themselves. I love it when they fit the song, take off from a logical place and return to the rhythm. Friedman's solo almost breaks that spell, but does not.

I recommend not jumping immediately to 2:10 where the madness starts to build, or 3:09 where it becomes a solo proper, 3:28 where it blasts straight up into the stratosphere and parts beyond, or 3:48 where you're like, "what the fuck?" Do it if you must, but realize that this solo works best as the orgasmic culmination of an awesome song. It's worth the 5 minute investment. His skill and artistry and sound are evident right from the electric shocks of the opening notes.

If you're a metal fan and somehow have missed this one, I beg you to rectify that right now. For non-metal fans who appreciate great guitar work, I realize that Dave Mustaine's voice can be off-putting, but don't let that stop you. Just listen.

A Canticle for Leibowitz, a review

A nuclear firestorm has caused the downfall of civilization, followed by a wave of benighted barbarism and book-burning. But the wake of the holocaust sees a slow unearthing from oblivion. Monks transcribe the literature of a lost age of mankind over centuries, cloistered in monasteries in the arid landscapes of the Southwestern United States.

This is the world of Walter M. Miller Jr.’s wonderful A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959) which I recently had the pleasure of re-reading after a span of many years.

A Canticle for Leibowitz is a fragmented read, consisting of three discrete stories separated by centuries of time. Each were short stories originally published in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. As a novel this stitched-together structure helps to reinforce one of Miller’s central messages: The painstaking, fragmentary, and precarious state of knowledge transmission and preservation.

At its heart Miller’s book is a re-imagining of what the medieval monks did with classical Greek and Roman literature, transcribing it laboriously and preserving the flame of past knowledge until it could be used in a more enlightened age. While historical monks survived barbarian predation and Viking raids, in Miller’s novel nuclear war and predatory radiation-scarred scavengers are the equivalent of barbarian invasions circa 476 AD. The survivors of the nuclear exchange are subject to a brutal period called the “Simplification,” where mobs of bitter, vengeful survivors attempt to eliminate any trace of the science that led them down the path to oblivion. Books and men that dare to read them are burned and destroyed.

This scenario is played out again in A Canticle for Leibowitz, with the monks of Albertian Order of Leibowitz carefully preserving the old scientific literature, resurrecting an arc lamp from old electrical blueprints. By the second and third act technology has again risen from the ashes.

Checking in with Tom Barber

Tom outside his home.

This past week I had the privilege of dropping in for a visit with the great Tom Barber. As followers of this blog might know, Tom was a prolific fantasy and science fiction illustrator in the 70s and early 80s, with credits on a wide range of paperback titles and magazines like Galileo, Heavy Metal and Amazing Science Fiction. He did that wonderful skull with the rat that we all love, adorning the cover of the Lin Carter paperback revival of Weird Tales (he was never paid for this piece by the way, thanks to a shady agent).

You can find a couple write-ups of my previous meet-ups with Tom here:

https://thesilverkey.blogspot.com/2019/08/a-meeting-with-tom-barber-sword-and.html

https://thesilverkey.blogspot.com/2019/09/a-meeting-with-tom-barber-part-2.html

Tom dropped out of painting for a few years while battling alcohol addiction, but has since returned with a vengeance, getting some steady work from Bob McLain over at Pulp Hero Press. One of his recent projects was the cover of Flame and Crimson. I was incredibly honored to have someone of Tom’s caliber on the book.

Tom is a fun, interesting dude. We talked for a couple hours about some experiences he had meeting the likes of Harlan Ellison and Andrew J. Offutt at conventions (Ellison purchased one of Tom’s paintings at WorldCon in Phoenix), meditation and Zen states and humanity stuck in cycles of violence, checks bouncing for work he sold to Amazing Science Fiction, and the tension artists face trying to reconcile illustrating for money vs. pursuing their true muse. All while outside on his front lawn, socially distanced of course, and enjoying the sunny 80 degree weather.

The coolest bit to come out of our meet-up is the news that Tom is working on a short memoir of his own for Pulp Hero Press, one that will focus on his addiction years (his “drinking years”) and eventual recovery. The working title is Artists, Outlaws, and Old Timers. As befits the author it will be illustrated throughout with Tom’s own artwork. Tom is still writing the manuscript but is nearing completion. It will contain some amusing scenes from his early days in the late 1960s attending art school and breaking into commercial work, convention life, crazy bohemian days in Arizona, and recovery and lessons learned.

Train to Nowhere

Tom also gave me a look at some of his recent pieces, scanned onto his PC. These include the cover for an upcoming novel by Adrian Cole (a piece called Train to Nowhere; I’m not sure if this will be for a reprint of Cole’s previously published short story or a collection).

My Father, The Pornographer: A Memoir

Andrew J. Offutt was a complex, deeply flawed man. A resident of rural Kentucky, Offutt was a husband and a father who supported his family with a successful insurance business, a job which he did not love and ultimately abandoned to make the bold leap into full-time writing. He was at one time a promising science fiction writer. He also subjected his children to emotional neglect, held baseless grudges against various personages, lacked a full emotional maturity and cohesive personality, and held a life-long obsession with pornography.

His son, author Chris Offutt, tells his father’s story with incredible bravery and honesty and a raw, pull no punches style in My Father the Pornographer: A Memoir (2016). I found this book to be absolutely fascinating and extraordinarily well-written, and burned through it in a matter of two days.

Andrew J. Offutt was “controlling, pretentious, crude, and overbearing” and spent most of his hours “in the immense isolation of his mind,” according to Chris. He demanded dead silence in the house while he hammered away in his office at this typewriter, churning out content. Chris often took to the woods to escape a stifling home existence.

The "later Leiber"

Recently I re-read The Second Book of Lankhmar (pictured, right), the 24th entry in the Millennium/Gollancz Fantasy Masterworks, a series that boldly declared itself comprised of "some of the greatest, most original, and most influential fantasy ever written." And, as I am wont to do, began taking a few notes on a piece of scrap paper, that quickly became a flood, then a formal review. Which I planned to post here.

Yech... fugly, bland cover.

The review got so long and detailed that I split it into two, then offered it up to the honorable Dave Ritzlin of DMR Books. If you haven't been checking out the excellent works Dave has been pumping out, you're missing out. Follow their blog here.

I am told that the posts will appear on DMR Blog on Monday and Tuesday.

The Second Book of Lankhmar includes the later works of Fritz Leiber, including The Swords of Lankhmar (1968), Swords and Ice Magic (1977), and The Knight and Knave of Swords (1988). These latter two in particular are not among Leiber's more popular or well-regarded Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories at least among S&S fans. They are certainly far removed from Leiber's pulp roots and his days writing for the likes of Unknown, and are in my opinion only loosely sword-and-sorcery/heroic fantasy. There is little to no swordplay, they meander, and the adventures are more inward than outward facing. 

But I think they are interesting, and well worth reading at least once. And thinking about. Enriching my reading was Bruce Byfield's Witches of the Mind, which makes a clear-cut case for the considerable influence of Carl Jung on Leiber's stories, particularly after 1960. 

Of sword-and-sorcery, politics, and the Flashing Swords that wasn't

I'm not naive, and I'm aware that politics leeches into all walks of life, art included. Consciously or subconsciously, ones religious beliefs, political affiliation, or sexual leanings make their way in.

But please for the love of God keep your overt political rants out of my fantasy. It's lazy and I don't like it.

I tried very hard to stay away from politics in Flame and Crimson and restrict my analysis to S&S as an art form, along with the artists, broad themes and conventions, and publishing facts and figures. For many reasons, one of which was made evident today.

Editor Robert Price could have and should have used this opportunity as editor of Flashing Swords 6 to talk about Lin Carter's legacy, the importance of the previous 5 Flashing Swords anthologies, and introduce some hard working new authors to a new readership. Instead he chose to pen an ugly, divisive, political screed, one that will win no one over to his side and is guaranteed to alienate more than than 90% of the book's intended audience. That includes anyone who identifies as a liberal, or a progressive, would prefer to live and let live, is female, or who has a daughter. Or frankly, has a brain.

Sword-and-sorcery appeals to strength, wish-fulfillment, acknowledges our species' fascination with violence, and celebrates self-determination. The subgenre has a history of muscular dudes lording over mounds of corpses, often with a scantily clad female clinging to their muscular thigh. I'm on record as saying I'm OK with all of this--its gorgeous art, I'm a sucker for all things retro, and moreover it's a product of its time. I also think that its OK to like stories about kicking ass, and getting the girl, and carving out one's path from street level thief to King of Aquilonia.

But I think these old S&S tropes can be successfully re-imagined for a modern audience. The anthology Heroic Visions (1983, so not exactly yesterday) for example was based around the thematic concept of strength, whether male or female, mental or physical, and proved that S&S could result in powerful new stories that did not require a muscular barbarian in a loincloth to prop them up.

For the record I don't like censorship. I don't like the implication that, because I enjoy Conan or Kane, I must be a misogynist. When I read old stories that contain casual generational racism or sexism, I apply historical context and move on. I wish more people would do the same.

But Price's introduction is poor, confusing, laughable, completely out of place, diminishes and tarnishes sword-and-sorcery, and has no business kicking off and celebrating what should be a nice relaunch of an old beloved series. We've got to do better. The genre that also gave us C.L. Moore, and Leigh Brackett, and powerful heroines like Valeria and Jirel of Joiry, deserves better.

Feel free to hit me up here or over email with your thoughts or comments. But don't expect more politics on the blog.

Feeling SAD on a Monday? Listen to this

Dangers galore in these old books...

By SAD of course I mean Swords Against Darkness, that awesome 1977 Zebra anthology of sword-and-sorcery edited by Andrew J. Offutt. I got to spend a nice hour+ talking about it with the hosts of the Appendix N Book Club podcast.

The episode is now live. Listen here or on your favorite podcast app.

Here is a sampling of what we covered:

Reading fantasy fiction as a kid, writing about swords and sorcery, second generation sword and sorcery authors, the understated prose of Poul Anderson, O. Henry’s sword and sorcery, multiclass characters, the collected Ryre stories, elves and dwarves in swords and sorcery, sword and planet, and much more!

Ideas are a dime a dozen. It's all about execution.

The title of the post should speak for itself, but a little context.

Heard on the intranets recently... "Gary Gygax ripped off Dave Arneson! Dave is D&D's true creator!"

My response: Horse shit.

Ideas are like a@#$holes. We've all got one, and most stink. I can sit here in the calm quiet of my living room and fire off a dozen. "Weight loss app." "Online mentoring program for pediatricians." "Telehealth scheduling interface." "Dying Earth role-playing game."

They mean (almost) nothing. What matters is the execution.

You've got an amazing idea for the next 7 volume epic fantasy series? Great. It means nothing ... unless you write it. And it's good.

That awesome weight loss app idea? Great. Now program it. Market it. Sell it. Until then, your idea is so much vapor.

Back to Gygax-Anderson. The idea of taking tabletop military wargames and altering the scale to make a tin soldier representing a unit of 1,000 men a single hero you control and imbue with personality, is a pretty cool one. Whoever conceived that idea, whether Gygax or Anderson (or some other unnamed wargamer), remains up for debate, though Arneson was definitely part of the conversation. His fictional game world of Blackmoor inspired Gygax, and together the two men went on to co-develop the original D&D game rules.

But Gygax took the idea and created TSR, turning an idea into an industry. Without Gygax, there would be no D&D.

That's the power of execution vs. ideas.

Home work (outs)

Heavy metal.

Since the outbreak of the COVID-19 virus I've switched to working out from home and dumped the commercial gym. And I'm loving it.

In addition to weights and a bar I bought a Rogue R-3 power rack. It's been worth every penny. It actually has adjustable safety pins  (imagine that), an item which my prior semi-shitty box gym did not possess. Near criminal for a business that ostensibly exists to get people strong.

The result of this equipment and the knowledge that if I fail a heavy lift I'll be fine, plus having no one waiting on me or interrupting my routine with inane babble, has been a small PR. Today using a below parallel/hips below the crease of the knee squat, I hit 455 x 2, followed by 405 x 7. Not bad for a 47 year old dad and desk jockey.

I'm into sword-and-sorcery and heavy metal, so lifting heavy goes hand-in-hand. I was raised on Arnold Schwartzenegger films and Frank Frazetta barbarian physiques and wanted to look like that. For the record I don't, but I believe in exercise and the physical fueling the mental.

Some recent arrivals

Thanks Amazon!

I'm looking forward to digging into these, in particular My Father The Pornographer, Chris Offutt's memoir of his father Andrew. Though perhaps best known for his work editing the Swords Against Darkness anthologies and as an author of some S&S, horror, and science fiction titles, Andrew Offutt apparently made most of his income writing porn novels under pseudonyms. This purchase was prompted by my recent re-read of Swords Against Darkness for the Appendix N Book Club Podcast.

Happy to support DMR with this purchase of Heroes of Atlantis and Lemuria. I've been slowly adding to my collection of CAS and The End of the Story is a welcome volume.

Finally, The Conan Companion is at first glance and one cursory thumb-through a beautiful book and a detailed publishing history of Conan.

More to come on these later.

Halls of Valhalla, Judas Priest

This one is worth a listen (he says, in understated fashion):

Fierce is the gale
From the north sea
We drink and rejoice from the chalice
Holding the course
Through long nights and days
The ice and the hail bear no malice
Tow the line
Keep it fine
Every man seeks this end

Valhalla - you are calling


I had forgotten how good this one was, until I hit upon it during a Youtube search while getting under the bench press today. I was able to hit another rep on my top set at 320 (x8 reps), right as the intro kicks into high gear at around the 40 second mark. See if it won't do the same for you.

Redeemer of Souls (2014) seems relatively forgotten after the more smashing success of Firepower (2018). While I do admit the latter is a better all-around album, Redeemer has a few monster tracks, including "Dragonaut," "Redeemer of Souls," "Sword of Damocles," "Battle Cry" and of course, "Valhalla." It was Priest's first album without the great K.K. Downing, who decided to retire and get into the business of opening a country club, but Richie Faulkner (The Falcon!) reinvigorated the band, and Halford proved he still had a lot left on the fastball. See the 4:28 mark.

I saw Priest play in support of this album in 2014 at the Tsongas Arena in Lowell MA, and got to meet three of the band members back stage. That story is too long and too good to be told here so shall wait for another day.

I have a confirmed fetish for anything Viking and this song definitely gets me ... aroused. I think Poul Anderson would have approved of it. Hell I think Ragnar Lodbrok would have drank mead from the skulls of his enemies with this one as the soundtrack.

Some notes on Swords Against Darkness and the Appendix N Book Club Podcast

Not a volume of Robert E. Howard
stories, despite the large
"Robert E. Howard"

This past Sunday I had the honor of joining hosts Jeff Goad and Ngo Vinh-Hoi for an episode of the Appendix N Book Club podcast. This is one of my very favorite podcasts, and a must-listen if you’re interested in pulp fantasy, sword-and-sorcery, or exploring the literary roots and inspirations of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. Subscribe today.

We reviewed a classic, Swords Against Darkness, the first in a series of five S&S anthologies edited by Andrew Offutt. It had been a few years since I last read SAD and upon re-read I found it even better than I remembered.

What follows are some rough notes I made for the show, not a polished essay. I hope the guys from Appendix N don’t mind the preview. This is just a taste of what we covered.

The episode is supposed to drop on July 27. My computer audio gave out at least 2x during the program which was a source of considerable frustration (and likely some annoying post-production). Jeff and Ngo, thanks again for the opportunity.

General commentary

This is quintessential sword-and-sorcery. Quite the roll-call of S&S heroes—Kardios of Atlantis, Simon of Gitta, Ryre, Vettius, etc.

Editor Andrew Offutt is perhaps best known these days as the subject of My Father, the Pornographer: A Memoir. But he wrote many credible S&S stories for the likes of Thieves’ World, three Conan novels, Cormac Mac Art stories including a couple with Keith Taylor (When Death Birds Fly and Tower of Death, which I have on my bookshelf), and of course served as the editor of Swords Against Darkness.

Swords Against Darkness II has a helpful introductory essay by Offutt, “Call it what you Will,” which was among the many essays I referenced in Flame and Crimson. A relevant quote from that essay, “As to ‘sword & sorcery’—sometimes the tale contains no sword—or no sorcery! Or, more rarely, neither. (Sword and supernatural might come closer, if we’re to discuss, haggle, or bicker”)

This collection is perhaps more accurately heroic fantasy, due to historical nature of some of the stories. But I’m not going to bicker or get pedantic. Much.

Cover is noteworthy for the blurb, “Heroic Fantasy in the tradition of Robert E. Howard”—very common to namedrop Howard on S&S covers, which is indicative of general popularity of REH /Lancers/Conan in general. Zebra for example had a line of REH reprints—Tigers of the Sea, Worms of the Earth, A Gent from Bear Creek, etc. Zebra later adopted “swords and sorcery” on its spine. And it’s got Frazetta cover art of course, though I’m not as fond of this piece as most of his other work.

On the passing of classic D&D artist Jim Holloway

Will you dare his tomb? You will,
 because Jim Holloway pointed the way.

A big name in fantasy role-playing/Dungeons and Dragons art passed away yesterday—Jim Holloway.

Jim was not my favorite D&D artist of all time—I might have to go with Bill Willingham or Erol Otus—but he was one of the 5-6 most iconic and prolific of the silver or “commercial” age of TSR, circa 1981 and on.

It’s hard to pick my favorite Holloway illustration but I might have to go with the cover for I3, Pharaoh (1982). It’s not typical of Holloway’s work—there isn’t the glorious confusion of twisted faces and tangled bodies fighting on some underground battlefield or tavern floor, or any hint of the humor that defined so much of his illustration for the likes of Dragon magazine. But there is in it a deep call to adventure, a mystery and a majesty in the figure of Amun-Re that caused me to play this module over and over in my youth, along with the rest of the Desert of Desolation series.

It’s hard to overestimate the importance and impact of fantasy art in the 1970s-80s. In this pre-internet era, when computer games were fun and beginning to get immersive but limited by crude green-screen graphics, artists like Jim Holloway were gateways to wonder. They provided the visual representation of the words of Gary Gygax, Tom Moldvay, Frank Mentzer, David Cook, Tracy and Laura Hickman, and others. Holloway’s detailed style was such that you could look at one of his illustrations and conceive an entire adventure around it, or at least a pivotal boss-battle. His artwork was, as this nice post on Black Gate demonstrates, how D&D was actually played at the game table—with laughs, and fumbles, and great ideas like tripping stone giants with a 50 foot rope. The look of characters whose players used charisma as a “dump stat”—mighty of frame but with buck teeth and bad breath.

This old school era of weirdness and unbridled creativity is slipping into the past, day by day. Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, Tom Moldvay, David Trampier, David Sutherland III, and others, have all passed away. Add Holloway to that roll call of heroes of the imagination. RIP.

News and notes

Some interesting happenings and ramblings...

Another podcast appearance. This coming Sunday, July 5, I'll be recording an episode of the Appendix N Book Club Podcast. The topic of the show is the Andrew J. Offutt-edited Swords Against Darkness (vol. 1). This follows hard on the heels of my appearance on the Literary Wonder & Adventure podcast. Apparently if you want to get on a show, the best way to do it is to write a book. I am a subscriber and fan of the Appendix N podcast, which as its name indicates is about the literary inspirations for Dungeons and Dragons. I'm re-reading Swords Against Darkness for the occasion and am finding it as awesome as the last time I read it, at least through the first two stories. Not that I needed a reminder but Poul Anderson's "The Tale of Hauk" is one of the better sword-and-sorcery tales ever written. And the incomplete REH tale "Nekht Semerkeht," finished by Offutt, was better than I remembered.

A worthwhile post about fantasy art over on Black Gate. Head on over to read Robert Zoltan's "The Importance of Good Fantasy Art." This is a nice piece, well-written, and with lots of great accompanying art that aptly demonstrates Zoltan's thesis. I know I've picked up more than one sword-and-sorcery/pulp fantasy paperback based on cover art alone. Zoltan stirs things up a bit by referencing the age-old debate about why Robert E. Howard's paperbacks sold so well in the 1960s: Was it Howard's meteoric writing talent, or Frank Frazetta's genius? Or both?

Speaking of Flame and Crimson, I recently received a couple of very nice five-star reviews, one each on Amazon and Goodreads. I loved this bit from the Amazon review, which speaks well of my writing style, but perhaps not so much of skill as a researcher: He is not an academic so we are spared the typical turgid prose that comes from University presses. Highly recommended. The Goodreads review contains my favorite blurb to date: I enjoyed, very much, the chapter on the influence of S&S on Heavy Metal music. If Mr Murphy wrote another book about that subject, I would pre-order it! I'm thrilled, beyond belief, that this book seems to be well-received, and that I've been able to provide folks with some entertaining reading hours. If you read and enjoyed Flame and Crimson but have not yet left a review on Amazon or elsewhere, please do take a moment to do so. Apparently more reviews helps with search rankings and the likes, and they bring a smile to my face.

This podcast thing is going to happen (eventually). I don't have a start date in mind, or a title, and still I need to figure out how I'm going to pull it off from a platform/technical perspective. But besides those not-inconsiderable obstacles, I'm going to give this podcast hosting-thing a try.

I loaned a friend of mine, age 49, the first two Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser paperbacks. Despite having read no sword-and-sorcery in his lifetime and having no real interest in the subject this guy actually plowed through Flame and Crimson, merely because he's a good friend of mine and wanted to be able to talk and ask questions about this project that consumed most of my free time over the past 5 years. The section on Leiber interested him enough to prompt him to ask me if he could borrow my old copies, so I loaned him Swords and Deviltry and Swords Against Death. I post this here not to brag, nor (just) as a reminder that he has them on loan, but to note that I am very curious to see how someone approaching F&GM and sword-and-sorcery for the first time, later in life, enjoys the stories. I almost pushed him away from Leiber and in the direction of Howard and the likes of "The Tower of the Elephant" but opted not to. I'll report back here with his impressions once I get some feedback.

To podcast, or not to podcast?

I'm giving some serious thought to starting up a podcast. I think the world could use a regular show on my favorite subgenre of fantasy--sword-and-sorcery--its practitioners, and the weirdness that surrounds it.

However, I have some reservations. One is time. Another is whether anyone would listen. The third and largest is that I don't think I'm a particularly interesting person or a compelling speaker. My forte' is the written word. I'm a middle-age dad and way, way out of touch with current popular culture. I don't watch TV and the last time I may have been vaguely cool was 1992.

That said, I'm slowly formulating a plan for an interview-style show, where I would host various authors, designers, artists, and personalities to talk about themselves and their work. I think I would focus on S&S/heroic fantasy, but stray into horror, heavy metal, movies, possibly comics.

I'd love to get some input on this, yay or nay. If someone has run a podcast and could offer any encouraging words of wisdom, pitfalls to avoid, run screaming in the other direction-type advice, etc., that would be particularly helpful. Hit me up here or over e-mail.

I'm podcasted!

The History of Sword and Sorcery: A Conversation with Author Brian Murphy (that is me) is now available for listening on the Literary Wonder & Adventure Show podcast. Check it out here. It's also up on Youtube.

I'm a bit nervous to listen myself as I'm no sword-and-sorcery hero, and have always been far more comfortable working in the written word rather than the spoken. But I hope I had some interesting things to say Again, I thank host Robert Zoltan and his companion Edgar the Raven for the opportunity.

Edit: Just started listening and I'm loving the post-production work. We didn't start the show with crashing, Basil Poledouris-esque intro music playing in our earphones.

Some commentary on Lin Carter

Yesterday would have been the 90th birthday of the late Lin Carter (1930-1988). I took the opportunity with the prompting of the gents over at DMR publishing to write an essay commemorating the occasion. The angle I chose was his contributions as a pioneering historian of fantasy.

I don't agree with everything Carter had to say about sword-and-sorcery, and get into a few of them at DMR. Check it out here if you're interested. But I also think Carter deserves praise for his work as essentially the first person to offer a coherent history of fantasy with his Imaginary Worlds (1973), published during his tenure as editor of the great Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series. The dude loved fantasy and told a cohesive story about how it came to be, and some of the itches it scratches in our collective humanity.

One of these days I'll have to do some more exploration of my thoughts on pastiche fiction. It's complicated. But some days you just want to read some Thongor.

Talking sword-and-sorcery with Robert Zoltan

Today I recorded an episode of the Literary Wonder and Adventure podcast with host Robert Zoltan (aka, Robert Szeles). It was an enjoyable, wide-ranging, 90 minute or so conversation on sword-and-sorcery, Robert E. Howard, Flame and Crimson, fantasy fiction and the power of myth, publishing, genre, and more.

I’m not sure exactly when the episode will be posted as Robert does a lot of post-production and editing, and as I understand it co-host Edgar the Raven will be making an appearance on the show. But I’ll announce when the episode is live.

Learn more or subscribe to the podcast here.

Remembering my friend, and Dungeon Master, Rick Langtry

Three years ago I lost my friend Rick Langtry to cancer. Rick was a guy that readers of this blog would have liked—a fan of fantasy fiction, hard rock, role-playing games, history, beer. He had an enviable sword mounted on the wall of his living room, real Toledo steel purchased in Spain. In other words, he appreciated all the good things in life. He was a family man with a son and a daughter and a great wife, Charlene.

I met Rick in about the shadiest place imaginable, and under shady circumstances. I believe it was April 2001. Dungeons and Dragons third edition was newly on the scene, promising a “back to the dungeon” approach and a fresh update of a tired, bloated rule set. I was married but without kids at the time and suddenly found myself possessed by the urge to dust off my dice bag and get back in. The only problem was, I didn’t have anyone to play with. A web search turned up the EN World site, which had a “Gamers seeking Gamers” forum. Rick was living in Southern New Hampshire and at the time I was living in Northern Massachusetts, and through the online forum we brokered a meetup at The Tavern in Methuen. My wife was so paranoid that I was going to be murdered by some madman that she made me take her cell phone (I did not have one at the time), thinking that I could at least call from the trunk of a car.

Our meetup at The Tavern was very apropos for what was in store, since as any veteran gamer knows most of the D&D adventures ever played begin with the player characters meeting up awkwardly in a tavern, downing ale served from a comely tavern wench before embarking on adventure. Ready to serve together in arms in life or death circumstances, regardless of the fact that they just met, and barely know one another’s names. Which again, proved prescient.

At the time smoking in restaurants was still a thing, and when I walked into The Tavern it was like the streets of Victorian-era London, with dim lighting and (cigarette) smog straight out of the East End. I looked around and there was Rick, with a beard a beer. Fortunately not Jack the Ripper.

In hindsight it was a meeting solely to make sure we both had one head and a reasonably complete set of teeth. But I knew after a single beer with Rick that he was the kind of guy I’d enjoy hanging out with. I walked out of the Tavern absolutely stiff with smoke, but confident that I found a Dungeon Master, and possibly, a friend.

Remembering Ronnie James Dio

Voice of an angel (and a demon). The great Ronnie James Dio.

Can it really be 10 years since Ronnie James Dio fled the circles of the world? Somehow, yes. A decade has passed since his death, but his music remains as vibrant and awesome as ever. Today I expended a few words explaining why over on DMR Blog. Check it out here if you're interested.

There's been some nice Dio tributes on the interwebs today. Here's a nice collection of short remembrances from the likes of Rob Halford, Scott Ian, and others. 

Glad to hear that in addition to being a once-in-a-lifetime talent, he was also humble and a great guy who took the time to help out new musicians and stick around to sign for the fans.