An Introduction
By J. F. Gonzalez
Itâs not often that Iâm solicited for introductions or to write about a colleague.
The few times Iâve done it the writer in question is (a) dead, (b) a peer, colleague or friend, and, in one rare case, (c) somewhat of a legend in the field.
Thankfully, Shane McKenzie isnât dead. And he isnât a legend in the field of horror fiction yet. I do consider him a peer and a trusted colleague, though, and Iâm sure if we lived closer, allowing us more social time, weâd probably be friends.
What Shane McKenzie is , however, is a new voice in the field of horror and suspense fiction, and one that I suspect will not fade away soon.
This will become apparent when you dip into the novella you hold in your hands. Despite the connotations of fantasy in the title, rest assured this tale is far from whatever preconceived notions that genre conjures.
No. Fairy is the stuff of nightmares .
Despite that, Fairy is still rooted in fantasy.
I realize that genre term means many things to people. For those who began reading genre fiction within the last ten years or so, the term probably conjures images of knights and unicorns and those cutesy fairies with the butterfly wings who zing about granting wishes or performing benevolent magic.
This story is far from that. The fantasy Iâm referring to here is how the term was originally used in the SF/fantasy field (of which horror is a part).
You see, back in the Mesozoic Period (that is, 1950-1986 or so), the term fantasy was often used to label the works of authors normally thought of as horror writers.
Richard Matheson. Charles Beaumont. Robert Bloch. Charles L. Grant. Stephen King. At one time or another during this period, the fiction produced by these writers was labeled fantasy by writers, editors, publishers and booksellers. This term was used to differentiate their works from the science fiction genre. It gave the propeller heads fair warningâpick up a book with the fantasy label and you probably wonât get a tale set on another planet, or some space opera.
More often than not, you got a horror story.
I kid you not. I still recall reading stories labeled as fantasy as a kid and being blown away by them. They were clearly horror stories. I didnât know what to make of the term. Charles L. Grant later coined the term dark fantasy to further differentiate tales of horror from the more sword-and-sorcery and general fantasy tales that were often lumped in under the fantasy banner. You see, back then, fantasy was an umbrella term to encompass everything from contemporary supernatural horror, Twilight Zone -type fantasy of the kind written by Jack Finney and Charles Beaumont, and the sword-and-sorcery tales of Fritz Leiber, Lin Carter, and Karl Edward Wagner. These days, the term dark fantasy means an entirely different thing to many people.
Whatâs the lesson learned? Never judge a story by the genre label.
Thereâs another lesson here too.
Despite my limited track record in writing introductions to the works of other writers, I must admit that penning one for a relatively unknown, new writer came with a sense of caution.
So far, Iâve managed to escape similar solicitations from other writers. On the rare occasions I am asked, I turn them down for one simple reason: my downtime is limited, and what I choose to read in that off time is usually very discriminating. I tend to read for pleasure and entertainment, and having spent far too many years of self-flagellation (as a fiction editor for two horror magazines and as coeditor of an anthology), Iâve read far too many stories by beginning writers. I didnât want to inflict the same kind of torture on myself at this stage of my career. Sure, the works of newer writers appearing from the various small presses these days are vetted by the men and women behind their respective ventures, but editorial tastes vary. How could I trust that
By J. F. Gonzalez
Itâs not often that Iâm solicited for introductions or to write about a colleague.
The few times Iâve done it the writer in question is (a) dead, (b) a peer, colleague or friend, and, in one rare case, (c) somewhat of a legend in the field.
Thankfully, Shane McKenzie isnât dead. And he isnât a legend in the field of horror fiction yet. I do consider him a peer and a trusted colleague, though, and Iâm sure if we lived closer, allowing us more social time, weâd probably be friends.
What Shane McKenzie is , however, is a new voice in the field of horror and suspense fiction, and one that I suspect will not fade away soon.
This will become apparent when you dip into the novella you hold in your hands. Despite the connotations of fantasy in the title, rest assured this tale is far from whatever preconceived notions that genre conjures.
No. Fairy is the stuff of nightmares .
Despite that, Fairy is still rooted in fantasy.
I realize that genre term means many things to people. For those who began reading genre fiction within the last ten years or so, the term probably conjures images of knights and unicorns and those cutesy fairies with the butterfly wings who zing about granting wishes or performing benevolent magic.
This story is far from that. The fantasy Iâm referring to here is how the term was originally used in the SF/fantasy field (of which horror is a part).
You see, back in the Mesozoic Period (that is, 1950-1986 or so), the term fantasy was often used to label the works of authors normally thought of as horror writers.
Richard Matheson. Charles Beaumont. Robert Bloch. Charles L. Grant. Stephen King. At one time or another during this period, the fiction produced by these writers was labeled fantasy by writers, editors, publishers and booksellers. This term was used to differentiate their works from the science fiction genre. It gave the propeller heads fair warningâpick up a book with the fantasy label and you probably wonât get a tale set on another planet, or some space opera.
More often than not, you got a horror story.
I kid you not. I still recall reading stories labeled as fantasy as a kid and being blown away by them. They were clearly horror stories. I didnât know what to make of the term. Charles L. Grant later coined the term dark fantasy to further differentiate tales of horror from the more sword-and-sorcery and general fantasy tales that were often lumped in under the fantasy banner. You see, back then, fantasy was an umbrella term to encompass everything from contemporary supernatural horror, Twilight Zone -type fantasy of the kind written by Jack Finney and Charles Beaumont, and the sword-and-sorcery tales of Fritz Leiber, Lin Carter, and Karl Edward Wagner. These days, the term dark fantasy means an entirely different thing to many people.
Whatâs the lesson learned? Never judge a story by the genre label.
Thereâs another lesson here too.
Despite my limited track record in writing introductions to the works of other writers, I must admit that penning one for a relatively unknown, new writer came with a sense of caution.
So far, Iâve managed to escape similar solicitations from other writers. On the rare occasions I am asked, I turn them down for one simple reason: my downtime is limited, and what I choose to read in that off time is usually very discriminating. I tend to read for pleasure and entertainment, and having spent far too many years of self-flagellation (as a fiction editor for two horror magazines and as coeditor of an anthology), Iâve read far too many stories by beginning writers. I didnât want to inflict the same kind of torture on myself at this stage of my career. Sure, the works of newer writers appearing from the various small presses these days are vetted by the men and women behind their respective ventures, but editorial tastes vary. How could I trust that
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