Author: SGJ

Z Lives

Gospel of ZI can’t remember if I wrote The Gospel of Z right before or right after The Least of My Scars. They were right next to each other, anyway. Oh, yeah: I wrote the first draft of Z before Scars, then the next draft after Scars. I’m pretty sure. And, it wasn’t the first zombie thing I’d written. My first zombie novel was It Came from Del Rio. Which I’m thinking was 05, maybe? -ish? I know I did Zombie Bake-Off in 07, anyway. And, coming into both of them, I kn…

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The Elvis Room

elvis-room-coverWhat if you weren’t looking for evidence of the supernatural, but found it all the same? A true research scientist can either hide that evidence or tell the world. Either way it’s going to haunt you. Either way your life is never going to be same.

Find out what’s always on the other side of the door.

It’s the Elvis Room.

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Sterling City

SterlingCity_3e_fix2e3glowFa novella

A moon explodes and a marriage dies. An impossible creature rises from the tall grass, watches a farmer’s circle system crawl across the field like a giant insect. That farmer watches back. His wife’s footprints are there in the dirt. The fire in the sky leaves his shadow crisp and deep.

This is Texas without the cowboy hat. This is Texas with a soft rain of cosmic debris sifting down over it. This is a dark, dangerous thing hiding in the cellar, but th…

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There Comes a Rider

saw this at BizarroCon this weekend. it’s one of one. the rest coming soon.…

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All the links fit to link

Update, Steve. Got to remember, got to remember:

  • City of the Dead is easily the best haunted house I’ve ever been to. I learned both NOT to get lost in the backtunnels visitors aren’t supposed to stumble into, and also to NOT let my wallet chain get caught on the wall when Leatherface is chasing me

  • hit two movie premieres recently: Monkey’s Paw in LA and Winter in the Blood in Austin

  • I was on HuffPost Live, talking “Terrifying Television.” was fun

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Looking at Demon Theory

I forget if I’ve properly updated or not, but: Demon Theory, the comic book. We’ve got pencils and temp-lettering in the can, are playing with cover stuff now (I’ve got a fake-o logo/title somewhere, but, it’s somewhere not on this particular computer), as you can see below. As for its eventual realness, as in buyableness: we’re just putting tentacles out to publishers now, and crossing what fingers we’ve got left. It’s a good …

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Monkey’s Paw

mpawIf only anybody were ever smart enough to call a lawyer and an English major before they made their three wishes, right? You’ve got to the get the wording just, just right, with all these exclusionary clauses, with all this over-specific verbiage to indicate exactly what you’re asking for. And bring an artist in as well, to go ahead and illustrate what you’re saying, to storyboard out the smallest most insignificant minutia of these wishes.

Don’t worry about being too redunda…

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Three Miles Past


A collection of three powerfully disturbing novellas by multiple award-winning author, Stephen Graham Jones.
There are lines that probably shouldn’t be crossed, doors that should stay shut, thoughts that shouldn’t be considered. In these three novellas by Stephen Graham Jones, the dead talk, ancient evil opens its eyes, and that guy across the parking lot, he’s watching you, and has been for a while now.

Lock the door, tell yourself it’s nothi…

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Not for Nothing

NFN ARC coverThe detective novel resulting when Barfly‘s Henry Chinaski stumbles into Larry McMurtry’s small-town Texas and an Elmore Leonard plot. The Town is Stanton, Texas, population 3,000. Your name is Nicholas Bruiseman, and you’re a disgraced homicide detective so down on your luck you’ve been forced to take a job as the live-in security guard for the town’s lone storage facility. At last, you can finally get on with the business of drinking yourself to a better sta…

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Floating Boy and the Girl Who Couldn’t Fly

FloatingBoy5written with Paul Tremblay

“And now the boy’s lost in the brightness somehow. The whole tree shakes. He’s up in the thickest part of the tree.

I step back, looking up, and I keep going until I back into the kiddie pool, which takes me out behind my knees. My soccer calves are no help and I splash down butt-first into the water. No one is watching me, so no one laughs or asks if I’m okay. I’m not okay.

There, he’s at the top. Definitely. Am I the only one who can—?

The light branches be…

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