Given the current global financial apocalypse I assume that most of you are now eating shoe leather for dinner, wailing yourselves to sleep in damp & draughty cardboard boxes, and shaking your sore-encrusted fists at an indifferent god. While I can't guarantee that the following cheap/free bits 'n' bobs will rouse you from your wretched misery, they may provide some small crumbs of comfort.

1) A Ghostly Genre: Short Fiction and the Supernatural.

From some of the same team of mad geniuses who brought us "It Came from the 1950s: Popular Culture, Popular Anxieties" comes "A Ghostly Genre: Short Fiction and the Supernatural". Taking place in the august surrounds of Trinity College Dublin this coming weekend (24-25 October), the conference features tasty talks on Robert Aickman, Sheridan Le Fanu, Henry James, M. R. James, Edith Wharton and many more besides. Yummy.

It's the closest thing to "Dreadful Thoughts: The Conference" we're ever likely to see, so I encourage (nay, demand) attendance…even though I can't (alas) make it myself. Pester Bernice or Elizabeth at this address for more info (tell 'em I sent you).

2) Wordsworth Editions – Tales of Mystery & The Supernatural.

I gleefully spat in the pinched and mean face of the recession today by purchasing six books. On my meagre wage that may (at first glance) seem the foolhardy extravagance of a doomed man, but look closer. The volumes in question – part of Wordsworth's groovy "Tales of Mystery & The Supernatural" series – all clock in at well under €4.00. Thrift and classic horror – together at last.

While it is (of course) a giddy joy to be able to pick up the collected stories of renowned authors (Conan Doyle, Henry James, Ambrose Bierce etc) for a modest fee, I get even more of a kick out of snapping up lesser-known delights. Today, for example, I got my mitts on Night Shivers: The Ghost Stories of J. H. Riddell and H. D. Everett's The Crimson Blind & Other Stories. Two relatively obscure gems, with funky covers, for the price of a bog-standard lunch. How can you refuse…even if the bailiffs are kicking down the door?

3) Dreadful Thoughts: Where Do We Go From Here?

Last Monday's meeting of the story club witnessed sad and raggedy clumps of tumbleweed blow through the blog. Numbers were down. Spirits were low. Your host was deflated.

However, with the passing of a week (and the buying of the aforementioned books) a sense of reinvigoration and renewal is in the air. "Damn it", thought I the other day, "There are still so many nooks & crannies of horror to explore and discuss. Without this damn'd club I'll stop reading these lovely, lonely tales and move on to something else." I don't want to do that just yet. For one thing, it wouldn't be fair to J. H. Riddell.

And so…I ask you. Does enthusiasm for, and interest in, the project still remain? Would changing times and days make a difference in terms of gathering people simultaneously together? Are there any changes to the (low-tech) format that might jazz proceedings up?

I'm still (almost in spite of myself) feeling the love for Dreadful Thoughts. With Halloween rapidly approaching it's an apt time to ask – "Is there life in the old dog yet?".

P.S: Don't forget. It's completely free.

I say:

Come, dear friends. Come and pull your chairs, stools and (noncombustible) beanbags closer to our fire – for tonight we will have much need of its warmth.

But wait! Was that a gnarled face I saw flash at the window pane? Listen! Can you hear a distant (but heavy) panting?

Frightened yet? I didn't think so. But you will be. You will be…

*Cough*…By all that, of course, I mean hello and thanks for showing up. The fact that you're reading these words on this bleak Monday night (a night heavily pregnant with menace) means that you've foolishly joined the accursed thing we like to call – The Dreadful Thoughts Story Club. Sinéad and I (your hosts) bid you welcome.

Last Wednesday we set the group its homework for today, in the shape of M. R. James' fantastically creepy "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad".

Now let's uncork those bottles of blood-red wine, light a few candles, steel our ragged nerves, and get this party started. Over to you Sinéad.

Sinéad says:

My unswerving grá for the ghost story goes back to when I was probably too young to be reading them. It was on my parents' book shelf that I discovered a cache of Alfred Hitchcock-edited ghost story collections. One was Bar The Doors, another, with a fantastically eerie/trippy cover was Ghostly Gallery. Next to those were several books linked by subject and geography: Irish/Scottish/English Tales of Terror full of inexplicable happenings in small towns and castles, of banshees, corpses and witches.

Why do we love scary stories? Perhaps because of what Edith Wharton called their "thermometrical quality". By which she meant "if it sends a cold shiver down one's spine, it has done its job and done it well". As a huge fan of the short story in its broadest sense, I love that so many writers you wouldn't expect to have written ghost stories, have attempted a spooky tale. Writers like Paul Bowles, Elizabeth Bowen, A. S. Byatt, Somerset Maugham, Nadine Gordimer, Graham Greene, V. S. Pritchett, Isaac Bashevis Singer, and Fay Weldon. But we start our first Dreadful Thoughts discussion with the undisputed champion of the supernatural story: M.R. James. I look forward to hearing everyone's thoughts and suggestions for upcoming tales to discuss.

Me again:

Just to re-emphasise – the club is intended as a pace for informal conversation/discussion about selected short horror tales.

It's all about interaction so please don't hesitate to pop any and every casual/random/bonkers thought you have about tonight's story into the comments section below.

This is (we promise)Note: Promise not legally binding! a social and friendly environment where the only thing you need fear is a nocturnal visit from an entity whose face is composed of crumpled linen. Aaaaarrrghh!

The Dreadful Thoughts project begins (like a cauldron of hot blood) to bubble and fizz most satisfactorily – with my comrade Sinéad rallying the troops over at The Sigla Blog.

For the first of the reborn (Hallelujah!) Story Club's homework assignments we're returning to the previously discussed (though not discussed much) M. R. James. Given that James is probably deserving of a club devoted exclusively to his supernatural tales – this is not remotely a bad thing.

Sinéad's choice of story is one of his very best/creepiest – the frequently anthologised "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad" (1904). Links to online texts are given below.

That, then, is your assignment Dreadful Thinkers (or should that be Thought-ers?). You have until this coming Monday (the 10th) to read and ponder it. Return here at 8.00 p.m. on that date when a shiny new post for all related chitter and chatter will be waiting for you.

It'd be great if all interested parties could be online simultaneously, but (as Sinéad suggests) "if you can’t make the designated time, you can always post your thoughts afterward". There's no time limit on how long the discussion can run for (the comments section will remain ever open).

Now but one question remains unanswered: What's a good (reasonably priced) red wine to accompany talk of g-g-ghosts and ghost stories?

Story: "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad" (pdf), (html)

Meeting: Monday, March 10, 8.00 p.m. (GMT).

P.S. By the way, the new issue of The Irish Book Review features my not entirely complimentary take on Roddy Doyle's The Deportees.

The path by which I came to know and (greatly) enjoy M. R. James was a rather long and meandering one. Many years ago (and late one night) while my brother and I idly flipped through the channels we happened to stumble across Jacques Tourneur's wonderful Night of the Demon (1957).¹

Within minutes it had its hooks in us and we watched (with growing delight) till the credits rolled. In the years that followed we'd occasionally reminisce fondly about what the brother had taken to calling, "the devil on the bicycle" film – this being a reference to the "squeaky bike" noise that presaged the demon's appearance. After one such conversation I girded my loins, muttered "Right!", and set about doing a bit of digging (no easy feat in those dark pre-internet, or "printernet", days).

The search led me back to the 1940s and the marvellously restrained (but perverse) films Tourneur had made for Val Lewton (one of cinema horror's most idiosyncratic voices). Discovering Lewton, and watching (for the first time) the likes of Cat People, I Walked with a Zombie, The Seventh Victim and The Body Snatcher, are dark pleasures I won't forget in a hurry.

But I digress. Let us cut to the chase and skip forward a few more years to the glorious age of DVD. Night/Curse of the Demon has just been released on that format and there I sit watching the Spinal Tap-tastic opening sequence in all its Stone Henge-y glory.

A booming voice intones:

"It has been written since the beginning of time, even unto these ancient stones, that evil, supernatural creatures exist – in a world of darkness"

And we're off and away, but not before giving credit where credit's due:

I'd had a second-hand copy of James' collected ghost stories gathering dust (or ectoplasm) on my shelves for quite a while but had never done much more than a bit of dipping in and out. The above reminder spurred me on to have a determined crack at it/them and very grateful I am for the needed kick in the arse.

While "Casting The Runes", the second tale for our Dreadful Thoughts Story Club, is not one of James' most chilling ("Oh Whistle, and I'll Come to you my Lad" probably freaks me out more than any other), it does showcase some classic 'Jamesian' themes, features, and flourishes.

1) The sense of being "pursued" by an inexplicable, indescribable "thing". The feeling that, through the protagonist's greed, negligence, folly, or simple bad luck, a "thing" has noticed and taken an interest in him/her (it's nearly always "him").

2) The postponed appearance/revelation of the "horror". The excruciating sense of expectation and terrible anxiety about what is to come. Critics of James might see his "punchlines" as anticlimactic, but the pleasure is all in the (tension-filled) anticipation.

3) The ambiguity and shapelessness of the "horror". Impressions of what was seen, dreamt or felt are always fleeting, hazy and hard to keep in focus. Think Dunning's encounter with the man handing out leaflets…

He looked in passing at the giver but the impression he got was so unclear that, however much he tried to reckon it up subsequently, nothing would come.

…or his growing sense of anxiety…

It seemed to him that something ill-defined and impalpable had stepped in between him and his fellow-men – had taken him in charge, as it were.

I'll leave you (for now) with these well-known lines from Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" – which Harrington received (scribbled on a woodcut) shortly before his demise. A more perfect compliment to "Jamesian" horror it'd be very hard to find.

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

Let the discussion begin and flow. Talk about the story. Talk about the film. Talk about whatever in hell's nine circles you feel like.

1. Released, minus 13 minutes, as Curse of the Demon in the US. [back]

Like most sensible people I loathe and abhor Mondays. Mondays take my weekend jauntiness and kick it in the face – before setting fire to it and throwing it down the cellar stairs. By way of tribute (or, actually, whatever the opposite of "tribute" is) to this rank and foul day I'm here to set you all some homework.

On a recent Saturday (now there's a good day) Ms. Sinéad Gleeson was kind enough to say nice things about Dreadful Thoughts – this blog's new horror writing and horror reading project.¹ Though I took the liberty of choosing the first offering for the "Story Club" (Fitz-James O'Brien's "What Was it?") Sinéad was quick off the mark in suggesting who/what the focus of story number two should be:

Given my obsession with those BBC Ghost stories, my suggestion will have to be something by MR James.

As I always say (or, at least, say in very specific circumstances…like now) you can't go wrong with M. R. James. As Sinéád didn't specify a particular James story I'll take a further liberty and pick one out of the hat myself.

2) "Casting The Runes" (pdf), (html)

It's a favourite of mine (for reasons that will become obvious later) and it's now your assignment for the week. Read it, enjoy it, think about it, and let's meet back here on Thursday the 14th at 8 p.m. (ish) to chew it over.²

P.S: fustar.info has survived the recent Blog Awards cull and now finds itself "short listed" (the lists are still quite long) in "Best Blog", "Best Blog Post" (for this one), and "Best Popculture Blog". My humble thanks to all those who gave me their upturned thumbs.

1. For details of what it's all about see here. [back]
2. Oh and keep the suggestions coming. [back]