Tuesday, June 4, 2019

Review: Rogues of Merth by Robert Zoltan

Rogues of Merth is a collection of tales grown by author Robert Zoltan from the thorny, often carnivorous garden of classic Pulp sword and sorcery. The heroes of these tales are the poet-swordsman Dareon Vin and his companion, the warrior Blue- the latter so nicknamed because of the cerulean tattoos that cover his body (only the people of his culture may know his true name, however). Each man comes from the extremes of civilization and bears their indelible marks: Dareon possesses the culture, craftiness and decadence of the cities, while Blue has the instinct and openness- and sometimes naivete- of one who wanders the open plains and forests.

Their home, Merth, is a porous world with myriad realities weaving in and out of its fabric. Indeed, Dareon and Blue can’t seem to go more than a few weeks without stumbling into another plane of existence or accidentally unleashing a relic from the ancient world. There are hints that a higher power may be tugging the duo along in their adventures. Whether it be Fate, the unnamed gods of Merth, or Dareon’s supposedly imaginary Lady Luck pulling the strings, one cannot say. Along the way they meet and must contend with numerous supernatural oddities: time sailors, demonic diptera, curse-flinging ghosts, laughing gods, serpent goddesses both malignant and benevolent, and even stranger entities.

If there is anything to critique in these tales, it is that at times Dareon and Blue seem a bit too passive about their strange adventures, drifting along wherever the unknown powers take them, escaping dangers and fighting monsters as they come. I would have liked to see a little more agency on their part. But that is a minor point

I would highly recommend Rogues of Merth to readers looking for stories of classic sword and sorcery infused with the adventuresome blood of Leiber’s Lahnkmar mixed with the weird, alien ichor of Moorcock’s ancient Melnibon√©.

You can get a copy of Rogues of Merth on Amazon.  

And check out Robert Zoltan's site Dream Tower Media to see his other work and listen to episodes of the fantastic Literary Wonder & Adventure Show podcast, which I've talked about before.

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

A Creepy Tunnel

While planning out my scarecrow picture book, I took a lot of outdoor photos to get ideas for illustrations. Originally I had intended to use these pictures as direct references, but they ended up being more like aesthetic inspirations.

There was one place, though, that I did try to draw directly. Near my house is a road that has this odd tunnel running underneath it made from a corrugated metal tube. It’s not a long tunnel- only about 20 feet- and it leads right into a pleasant neighborhood. But there’s something very eerie about it.  Even if it’s too short to hide a monster clown or a slender man, it definitely seems like a place that would be haunted.

Approaching the tunnel. Yep, definitely not haunted.

It's not a very long tunnel. Just long and dark enough to MAYBE hide one boogeyman if he crouched down really small.

Walking through the tunnel.

I did a few versions of the tunnel for my scarecrow book, and while I’m not completely satisfied with the end result, I think it fits the aesthetic of the book.

I definitely want to take another crack at illustrating this tunnel and evoking that creepy feeling it gives me. Keep a look out for it in future artwork!

Saturday, March 9, 2019

Review: I Know Very Well How I Got My Name by Elliot Deline

This novella, a prequel to  Deline’s book Refuse,  takes us through the early life of Dean, a young transman growing up in Syracuse in the late 90s and early 2000s. The earliest parts of Dean’s story are disjointed vignettes- as our earliest childhood memories so often are when we look back from adulthood. But, as in real life, the memories Dean hold onto tell us much about who he is now, even though he himself may not be aware of how they have sculpted him.

Dean grows up a time when transgender people are barely even a concept on the cultural radar. Dean, as a result, grows up without the vocabulary to articulate who he is and without role models to look to. He only knows that “something” doesn’t feel right. Something never feels right. He may look like a girl to others,  but he has no idea what it’s like to actually be a girl. As a child Dean often pretends he’s someone else, perhaps to escape the role he is regularly and unconsciously forced to portray every day.

Many of Dean’s experiences as he tries to understand himself are relatable to people both trans and cis, though his struggles are made more difficult because he cannot put a name to exactly what is off in his life.

Helping Dean along the way is his friend Amy- sometimes friend with benefits, never quite a girlfriend. Dean’s relationship with Amy is an odd, uncomfortable dynamic that I think many of us have lived through at some point in our lives. She helps him in some deep ways- most importantly in finally giving a name to the feeling he’s carried around for so long and, as the title says, giving him his new, true name (Dean’s deadname- his name before transition- is deliberately never given). But their relationship is deeply toxic and Amy has her own damage to deal with.

While the scenes of Dean’s youth may seem disjointed at times and not appeal to all readers, the novella as a whole is an engaging coming-of-age story from a perspective that deserves much more attention in literature. The story can be dark and intense- there are scenes of attempted suicide, sexual assault, and characters expressing casual homophobia, transphobia, and other microaggressions. But this intensity is important for understanding Dean’s development, and these glimpses ring true as experiences that many trans folk have had to struggle through.

You can get a copy of I Know Very Well How I Got My Name on Smashwords or Amazon

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Two Sentence Winter(?) Horror Stories

I really enjoy crafting these little two-sentence snippets of horror. It's quite the mental exercise. Like my previous horror post, these stories were inspired by autumn-themed pictures I'd taken. Technically autumn is over, but it doesn't feel like winter since there's barely been any snow. So this is Extended Autumn, I suppose.

Granville, MA 7:34 AM
Now that its season has passed, this nameless, peripatetic phantasm must vacate its jack-o-lantern host. With an oozing, languid crawl, it emerges to begin its annual migratory circuit through the cellars, attics, closets, and crawlspaces of the sleeping town. 


Pomfret Center, CT 5:46 PM
A murmuration of starlings swarmed over my head, undulating like a formless aerial titan, and descended upon the Burlap Man that had been following me. There was a ragged gurgling and when the birds flew away, all that remained of my pursuer was a pile of sticky leaves and a shred of sackcloth bearing a red, crayon-drawn eye.


Hartford, CT 1:05 PM
When the townsfolk finally caught the vampire, they cut him in half lengthwise- as was the custom at that time- and buried his still screaming body under the road. They did not understand his final curse until the trees on the side of the road facing his open wound began to bleed.


Woodstock Valley, CT 9:46 PM
It was the first full moon after we buried the werewolf’s skin under that gnarled, tumorous maple on the edge of the bog. As the corpse-white orb rose through the trees’ skeletal branches, I clasped Eurydice’s hand and listened to the sound of pustules popping on its bark, followed by dozens of faint, wet howls.


Wassaic, NY 5:21 PM
I could only stand frozen with fear as the Skinless Man floated out of the tunnel and placed something in my hand. When he finally evaporated, I looked down to find I was holding a doll's eye with a single white worm writhing in the hazel-gray sclera.

Thursday, January 3, 2019

Review: Tales From the Magician's Skull

Tales From The Magician’s Skull is a magazine of sword and sorcery fiction drawing deep from the vein of classic pulps like Weird Tales and Amazing Stories. For those unfamiliar with the term, sword and sorcery is a darker, more personal brand of fantasy. In contrast to Tolkien-inspired high fantasy with its epic heroes performing feats of great magic amid world-shaking plots, Sword and Sorcery concerns heroes of often gray morality just trying to survive in a dangerous world where magic, if it exists, is usually dangerous and mistrusted. This is not to say there is no heroism in sword and sorcery, just that it is on a smaller, individual scale.

In addition to classic pulps, Tales From The Magician’s Skull (or just The Magician’s Skull for short) also takes artistic and literary influence from mass-market paperback fantasies of the 70s and 80s, and also with that most quintessential of fantasy creations- Dungeons and Dragons (and other role-playing games of a similar theme). The magazine fully embraces this connection by providing gaming statistics for monsters, spells and magical items featured in each story, all of them formatted for Dungeon Crawl Classics, the flagship RPG from the magazine’s publisher, Goodman Games. DCC, as it’s abbreviated, emulates the style of classic 1st edition Dungeons & Dragons from the late 70s and early 80s.

D&D itself was heavily by influenced sword and sorcery fiction. The original edition of the game included Appendix N, a list of the literary works that had inspired its main creator, Gary Gygax. Appendix N includes most of the classic authors you’d expect, such as Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber, J. R. R. Tolkien, Edgar Rice Burroughs, and Michael Moorcock. But there are also more diverse and unusual writers such as Fletcher Pratt, Sterling Lanier, and John Belloir. The Magician’s Skull reprints this short but seminal list at the back of the magazine so readers can follow their own literary journeys. 

Another excellent inclusion in The Magician’s Skull is an extensive appendix of used bookstores from all over the US where readers can find those Appendix N classics along with other bibliophilic treasures. I’m pleased to see that the Dawn Treader from my own hometown of Ann Arbor, Michigan is in there. Though, sadly, no sign of the Book Barn from Niantic in my current state of Connecticut (I’ll have to have them rectify that in a future issue).

An example of the extensive illustrations found throughout TFTMS. Drawn by Brad McDevitt

 Lastly, The Magician’s Skull also features a directory of “Kindred Souls”- groups, gaming and otherwise, from around the world who share the editors’ tastes in classic sword and sorcery. 

The authors featured in this first outing are all old hands at sword and sorcery. Several of the stories are but single episodes in the long careers of established characters, though you don’t need to have read their other adventures to enjoy these tales.

The magazine is abundantly illustrated throughout with full-page drawings for each tale along with architectural plans for some of the tombs, towers, and other buildings.

As to the stories themselves:

What Lies in Ice
By Chris Willrich

A tale in the long-running adventures of Willrich’s rogues Persimmon Gaunt and Imago Bone. Whilst on a ship sailing through ice-choked polar waters, the heroes and their shipmates find themselves trapped behind a cursed black tower sealed in an iceberg. Deciding they should meet the tower’s horrors head on rather than wait to be their prey, the crew enters the structure to uncover its secrets. 

Floor plan of the iceberg-locked tower by Doug Kovacs 

The Guild of Silent Men
By James Enge

A murder mystery featuring Enge’s crooked-backed wanderer and master of strange magicks, Morlock Ambrosius.
The Silent Men is a guild for those who have no friends. A place of belonging for those who do not belong. Naturally, of course,  they’re hated and mistrusted by all the other city guilds and treated little better than vermin. So when the dual leaders of the Silent Men are murdered, no one outside the guild is interested in investigating. No one except Morlock, who knows what it is like to be hated and mistrusted. 

Beneath the Bay of Black Waters
By Bill Ward

The Fish-Gutter Gang has been spreading their deadly drug, Black Pearl, throughout the city of Long He. After an extensive investigation, Imperial Commissioner Shan Wu-Tsi and General Bai Guan have finally tracked down the source of this man-made plague. A source that is far worse than they expected, for rooting out this evil will lead them to the lair of the demonic fish-beings hiding beneath the surface of the city’s harbor.

The monsters from beneath the bay, illustrated by Ian Miller

 Beyond the Block
By Aeryn Rudel

This story begins with the death of the protagonist. But as you’ll find in many tales of sword and sorcery, death is far from the end. 

Crypt of Stars
By Howard Andrew Jones

The war is over and the Volani people have lost, crushed under the expanding onslaught of the Dervani. Now the conquerors ransack the ancient island-tombs of the Volani, determined to uncover the riches they believe lie within. To this end they have tortured and enslaved the Volani, forcing them to hunt for the resting places of their honored dead. The captured people have little hope of escape, until the day a hero whom every thought dead turns up unexpectedly alive.

There Was An Old Fat Spider
By C.L. Werner

Karl Rohlfs has been shunned and brutalized by everyone in town. Just to survive he must debase and degrade himself daily. Then comes the day he enters the twisted, dark woods on the king’s land and finds the spider. It is old, weak and barely surviving. But it is enormous, and- when it actually does manage to catch prey- it is deadly. In this creature, Karl finds a kindred spirit. And a way to avenge himself on his tormentors 

The Crystal Sickle’s Harvest
By John C. Hocking

Someone has been robbing royal tombs and Benhus- who some call the King’s Hand- along with his assistant Thratos have been ordered to investigate. 
It does not take them long to find the culprits, but in the process they also discover that aristocratic tombs are sometimes guarded by far worse than mundane locks and magical wards.

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Dr. Joseph Barratt: an eccentric fossil hunter from Connecticut

I recently wrote an article for the Winter 2018 edition of Tracks and Trails, the newsletter for Dinosaur State Park in Rocky Hill, Connecticut where I work.  Presented here is the article in full with some extra illustrations that wouldn't fit in the newsletter.

You can check out more of my articles for the Dinosaur State Park newsletter in the following links:

Go here to read about the crocodile relatives that ruled the East Coast in the Triassic.

Go here to read about long-necked tanystropheids from North America.

Go here to read about a Triassic reptile from New Haven, CT with an unusual jaw.  

Here's an article about a mastodon skeleton found in Connecticut.

Here's an article about Professor Edward Hitchcock, the first person to scientifically study the dinosaur tracks of the Connecticut Valley. (Also, here's an article I wrote for Atlas Obscura about Hitchcock).

And Here you can read a poem Professor Hitchcock wrote expressing his frustration at his inability to find bones of the Valley trackmakers

Anyway, here's my latest article.

by John Meszaros

Is it possible that the fossil footprints found throughout the Connecticut Valley were made not by dinosaurs but by an ancient species of four-toed humans? Well, no. Not really. But such was an idea proposed by  Joseph Barratt, a 19th-century doctor and polymath from Middletown, Connecticut. In his heyday, Dr. Barratt was a significant contributor to the study of the Valley’s tracks and also a close friend to Professor Edward Hitchcock, the first person to study the tracks scientifically.

Joseph Barratt's portrait in the possession of the Middlesex County Historical Society.

Dr. Barratt was born in 1796 in Derbyshire, UK. He acquired two medical degrees in 1819 and subsequently emigrated to the United States, settling first in Phillipstown, New York, then in Norwich, Vermont. In the Green Mountain State he became a surgeon and a professor at the American Literary, Scientific and Military Academy established by Captain Alden Partridge. Dr. Barratt followed the Academy when it relocated to the then bustling port city of Middletown in 1824. The school returned to Vermont just a few years later, but Dr. Barratt chose to stay behind to practice medicine in his new home. When Wesleyan University took over the old Academy buildings, Dr. Barratt taught a number of botany classes at the fledgling school, though he was never formally part of the staff. Botany was a major interest of Barratt’s early in his career, and he made several major contributions to the study of North American flora. Over 3,000 mounted plants that he collected make up a significant portion of the herbarium at Wesleyan University. Many of his duplicate specimens were later given to the New York Botanical Gardens and constitute an important component of their collections as well. In addition to botany, Dr. Barratt also studied the history of the local Native American peoples and published a number of pamphlets on their languages.

Eventually, Dr. Barratt’s focus turned towards geology and Connecticut Valley footprint fossils in particular, due in no small part to his proximity to the Portland brownstone quarries just across the river from Middletown. His extensive studies of the prints brought him into contact with Professor Edward Hitchcock with whom he became close friends. Barratt provided Hitchcock with a number of quality trackway specimens for the latter’s growing Ichnological Cabinet at Amherst College in Massachusetts (now housed at the Beneski Museum). One of these slabs- which had previously been used for 60 years as a paving stone in Middletown- was described by Hitchcock as “the gem of (his) collection”. The professor even named a species of footprint, Chimaera barratti, in honor of his friend (today this species has been reclassified as a type of Anamoepus).

The tracks that Professor Hitchcock referred to as the "gem of the Cabinet", which he purchased from Dr. Barratt. Photo taken by me during a visit to the Beneski Museum.

Newspaper articles from the 1800s provide tantalizing hints that Dr. Barratt may have actually found fossil bones in the Portland quarries. There is little concrete information about these alleged fossils, however, and  It’s possible that he was merely describing regular rocks that he perceived to be bones. Still, the idea that he had collected real bones- sadly lost to modern science- is fascinating considering how rare fossil skeletons are in New England.

Like Hitchcock, Barratt also speculated on the identity of the trackmakers. He initially agreed with the Amherst professor that the largest prints had been made by gigantic birds. Over time, though, his ideas grew increasingly strange. He concluded that many of the prints had been made by a three-fingered, four-toed archaic human that he dubbed Homo tetradactylus. He also believed that alleged “bones” found in the Portland Quarry belonged to several species of ox and elephant that had been domesticated by these four-toed people. His belief in the human origin of the tracks led him to conclude that the sandstone beds of the Connecticut Valley were not of Mesozoic age but instead from a much younger time period that he dubbed the Kalorimazoic or “Age of Warm-Blooded Animals”. In 1874 Barratt compiled his theories into a self-published pamphlet titled “Fossil Wonders of a Former World”

Barratt became increasingly stubborn in his convictions and eccentric in behavior. He constantly ridiculed Professor Hitchcock’s ideas, souring the relationship between the two men and eventually alienating himself from other geologists as well.

Professor Edward Hitchcock. Public Domain.

A memorable example of Dr. Barratt’s eccentricity occurred in 1859 when he applied to present his work at the annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in Springfield, Massachusetts, but was rejected-  in no small part due to the fact that Professor Hitchcock, with whom he had become estranged, was head of the Association. Undeterred, the night before the event he gained access to the building where the meeting was to be held and hung drawings and diagrams of his research all over the walls. Association members arriving the next day were highly amused by the display. Dr. Barratt circulated among them, pontificating about his theories and apparently unaware that he was the object of their amusement, assuming instead that they were laughing at Hitchcock for being such a fool as to dismiss his geological theories.

A modern reader may find Dr.Barratt’s beliefs laughable, but it’s important to remember that dinosaurs had not been discovered when he began studying the Connecticut Valley tracks. Even when the Terrible Lizards were formally named in 1842, they were believed to be lumbering, quadrupedal behemoths not at all like the graceful, bipedal creatures that had clearly made the prints. As mentioned before, Professor Hitchcock himself believed that the tracks had been made by giant birds like the moa of New Zealand and stubbornly stuck to his own convictions even as evidence for their saurian nature began to mount.

Sadly, as Dr. Barratt aged he grew increasingly senile and obsessive. He eventually ended up living above a drugstore in a small apartment that was a veritable wizard’s laboratory of botanical specimens, stone slabs, stuffed birds, brains in alcohol, minerals, skeletons, microscopes, and other curiosities. His mental condition deteriorated to the point that he was unable to take care of himself. In 1880 he was committed to the Connecticut Hospital for the Insane, where he died of a stroke two years later.

Though Barratt may have alienated many of his peers in his later years, he must still have had some staunch, caring friends, for his tombstone is a work of paleontological art. Cut from two slabs of Portland brownstone, the vertically standing portion features a set of well-defined Grallator footprints while the horizontal piece bears natural molds of two felled tree trunks. The front of the tombstone bears salient information about Dr. Barratt- though his name is unfortunately misspelled as Joseph Barrett. On the back of the base, between the trunk molds, is carved the phrase “Testimony of the Rocks”, the title of a book by Scottish geologist Hugh Miller. The creativity of Dr. Joseph Barratt’s headstone is a fitting final tribute to such a colorful figure in the history of New England paleontology.

Dr. Barratt’s grave can be found in Indian Hill Cemetery in Middletown on the western slope of the titular hill.

Dr. Barratt's grave in Indian Hill Cemetary, Middletown, CT. Portland sandstone crumbles over time so parts of the grave have, unfortunately, broken away.
Dinosaur footprints on the back of the grave.

Molds of fallen logs on the back of the grave. The log on the left has been badly eroded. 

"The Testimony of the Rocks"
While researching and writing this article, I developed quite an affection for Dr. Barratt. His wide-ranging curiosity and diverse hobbies are traits I can strongly relate to. Unfortunately, he was never able to focus on any one subject and thus never saw any single project to completion- another trait I can relate to on a deep level. It saddens me that a lot of the things written about him- both in modern times and during his own lifetime-  dismiss him as a quack and laughingstock. Dr. Barratt deserves better and I hope my article brings at least a little more awareness to him.


Pemberton, S. George 2015. History of Ichnology- Ichnological Eccentrics: The Curious Case of Dr. Joseph Barratt of Middletown, Connecticut. Ichnos 22: 57-68

Thanks also to the Middlesex County Historical Society for providing documents related to Dr. Barratt.

Monday, December 3, 2018

Two Sentence Autumn Horror Stories

Autumn is an eerie season. The nights get longer, the air colder. The ground becomes wet and boggy. The leaves turned to skeletons reaching for the void above. Autumn is a season when spirits are out, most prominently around Halloween. But even the more festive Yule season has quite a creepy edge itself.

In celebration of the spookier side of Autumn, I've been taking pictures of appropriately seasonal scenes and using them as inspiration for some two-sentence horror stories. Here are five of them, with the pictures that inspired them. You can check out more of my two-sentence horror stories here, here and here.

Glastonbury, CT 1:34 PM
Their anger only grew each day that their faces remained uncarved and their interiors unlit by the soul-candles of the Returned Dead for whom they’d been grown. Now they have found a place with plenty of fresh souls and they will claim them all, whether or not the original owners are actually dead.

Rocky Hill, CT 9:30 AM
They found him lying in the fallen leaves under his great-grandmother’s magnolia, quite dead and covered in thousands of tiny, ring-shaped bites. So preoccupied were they with his body that none noticed the crimson droplets glistening on the tips of the tree’s winter buds.

Middletown, CT 11:34 PM
Peering out the frost-edged windows, I saw a mote of green phosphorescence bobbing over the tall marsh grass and assumed it was just the ghost of Mr. Jameson out for a midnight stroll. Only when the glow moved closer did I see that it emanated from a collection of human heads trapped within the transparent belly of a beast whose own head and limbs were hidden by the darkness.

Cromwell, CT 1:23 PM
No matter where we move, the water tower always finds us eventually. It still believes we are its children, and it will not sleep until it has absorbed us all into its rotting wooden womb.


East Hampton, CT 12:48 PM
When I finally worked up the courage to peer into that ruined tower, I saw only a carpet of ferns and nothing more. Not until I went to sleep that night did I see what lay beneath them and realize the fate of that thing that we’d chased out of the little door under the cellar stairs last autumn.