I
love brand new magazines. They are the lifeblood of any short story
reader. New magazines often have fewer conventions and allow their
authors to push the boundaries further, so I feel you get a more
eclectic group of writing than you might in already well-established
publications. I also love the feeling of discovery, and often first
issues don't disappoint.
It
was with this in mind that I opened up Issue # 1 of Occult
Detective Quarterly,
edited by Sam Gafford and John Linwood Grant. I always judge a
publication by its cover--it's the first impression a reader gets.
For the most part, I thought the graphics complemented the content
really well, conveying a polished retro style that screamed
"hard-boiled" from the color cover to the black and white
interiors.
This
first issue had seven short stories, the first chapter of a serial,
an article about Doctor Spektor and interview with its creator, a
tongue-in-cheek how-to about ghost hunting, and reviews of three
works featuring the supernatural. Most, if not all, of the fiction
found within its pages had the feel of old-school adventure stories,
containing tortured and sometimes oddball antiheros, mysterious
murders, and inexplicable and magical happenings.
Pulp
literature, in general, is a literature of vices. The pillars of
these include smoking, drinking and gambling--the latter not in
dollars, but with lives. In the pages of ODQ,
there are the classic flea-bitten PIs, the ex-cops and journalists,
and the apprentices who must follow their masters into uncertain
undertakings. Even in "When Soft Voices Die" by Amanda
DeWees, a story set in the 1800s, the female protagonist is not a
demure and virginal little miss, but rather has a scandalous
background (for the time in which it is set) of a former actress and
a widow to boot. Most of the characters in these stories are
free-wheeling adventurers who might have powerful magic on their
side, but it's seldom magic they completely control or entirely
understand. There comes a point in each story where the character has
no idea what they're getting into, but they persevere anyway in the
face of great odds.
Pulp
is also a literature of voice. From the feature story of a
wise-cracking gorilla detective in "Got My Mojo Working" by
David T. Wilbanks and William Meikle, to a been-there-done-that odd
job man in "MonoChrome" by T.E. Grau, the tone is often
jaded, with strong touches of sarcasm--and a wink and a nudge towards
the reader. The fourth wall is usually cast aside, and the characters
tend to speak directly to the reader throughout the pages of each
story. As such, fully half of the eight stories are told in first
person, with many of them in a quick-to-read, conversational style.
While
I enjoyed a number of stories in the issue, I must say that the real
star of the collection for me was "MonoChrome" by T.E.
Grau. From vivid scene-setting to superb pacing, this story is told
in a slow, literary reveal that incorporates a somewhat surrealistic
narrative and elements reminiscent of the best horror movies. To give
you a small taste of Grau's style, here is a stark picture of the
home of the main character, Henry Ganz, an alcoholic and former cop
whose best days are behind him.
Pico
Union was left to rot by inches through the gutting of post-war
factory jobs that drove out the blue collars, filling the gaps with
style-blind investors and immigrants from Guatemala and El Salvador,
on the run from brutal civil wars and therefore unconcerned with such
bourgeois notions as curb appeal. Los Angeles was full of
neighborhoods like this, mixed-race middle class bastions gone to
shit, with a preponderance of them circling downtown like a rusted
halo. (37)
I
enjoyed the mystery of Grau's piece, the description and dialogue,
the small hints and motifs throughout the story, and the building of
tension that leads to a spectacular and satisfying ending.
I
feel that the magazine will certainly appeal to fans of the genre,
but there were a few things that stuck out to me as a reader. In
terms of background, all the pieces are set in the U.S. or the United
Kingdom, and I would have liked to see a little bit more diversity of
the characters and variety of locations--maybe a murder mystery in
the Congo or a ghost story in Japan. While the overarching theme of
the magazine hearkens back to the days of pulp, I feel that there are
elements that can be modernized, since we live and read in a global
society.
And
while I enjoyed reading the reviews and learning a bit more about the
history of the occult detective genre, I was disappointed that a page
had been accidentally left out of the article, "How to be a
Fictional Victorian Ghost Hunter (In Five Easy Steps)" by Tim
Prasil. I'm sad to say I'll probably never be a good ghost hunter,
since two out of the three steps were on the missing page. Perhaps
they'll do a reprint of the missing page in the next issue or on
their website--I thought it was fun to learn about ghost hunting
trends in literature, and I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to see
the remainder of the article.
But
a first issue also includes getting your editorial legs under you as
you work out the kinks, so I don't think that there were any grievous
errors that would make me not pick up the next issue. This was a very
beautiful and well-put-together publication. I hope you enjoy reading
it as much as I did--and look forward to Issue # 2.
Occult Detective Quarterly
edited by Sam Gafford and John Linwood Grant
Issue # 1, Fall 2016
96 pages
Electric Pentacle Press
$6.00 PDF / $13.00 print
Alison McBain is an award-winning author with more than forty
short stories and poems published, including work in Flash Fiction
Online, FLAPPERHOUSE and The Gunpowder Review. When
not writing fiction, she is the Book Reviews Editor for the magazine Bewildering Stories. Alison lives in
Connecticut with her husband and three children.
