1. When did you first discover fantastic fiction?
I guess when I was maybe five or six years old . . . via comic books. This was the mid-1950s and thus before US comic
books were imported into the UK, so my parents used to buy for me black and white reprints of various US titles. My
favourites were ADVENTURES INTO THE UNKNOWN and FORBIDDEN WORLDS (both of them published in the US
by ACG) and MYSTERY IN SPACE (a DC title). For a while—much later, of course—I had full runs of near-mint
original US copies of both MYSTERY IN SPACE and STRANGE ADVENTURES, which I had to let go one time when funds were low. But let's not talk about that, because I always have to be sedated to sleep afterwards!
When I was maybe seven, I discovered the classics—DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE, THE WAR OF THE WORLDS—which
I'd already read as a "Classics Illustrated" edition—THE ODYSSEY (which was another "Classics Illustrated"
discovery—great Cyclops on the cover!—but dry as dust in pure text form and a profound disappointment to my
seven-year-old eyes), OFF ON A COMET, THE INVISIBLE MAN and so on. Soon after that
it was E.C. Eliot's KEMLO books, Angus MacVicar's LOST PLANET books and Patrick Moore's MARS books,
all of which I still have. Then came Cynthia Asquith's GHOST BOOKS, Herbert
van Thal's THE PAN BOOKS OF HORROR STORIES . . . and then, in 1960, Ray Bradbury,
with THE ILLUSTRATED MAN. I suppose the rest is history from there on.
2. What made you want to become an editor?
I adore the short form. My anthologies shelves and full- or long-runs of damn near every major short story magazine of the past sixty years are the jewels of my collection. Novels are fine, of course, but there's just something about short stories that flicks all of my switches. So when I decided I wanted to write—aged ten or eleven—it was an easy decision to try my hand first at the short stuff.
And on that very subject, I think it's a pity that more of today's aspiring writers don't follow suit instead of trying to break into the business with a doorstep-sized tome long before they've mastered the crafts of mood, dialogue, pace, setting, character in a short story. It's like someone saying, "You know, I think I'm going to become a carpenter!" "Good idea—what are going to do as your first project? Build a coffee-pot stand?" "Nah! I'm gonna construct a full-sized replica of the Taj Mahal out in the back yard." Yeah, right.
Anyway, once I'd written a few stories—and even had a few published—it was a relatively short step to wanting to have a go at putting together one of these wonderful books.
3. Who are your major influences in the genre and why?
Far too numerous to mention, in all honesty, but key to my work are Ray Bradbury, Harlan Ellison, Ed Gorman, Jonathan Carroll, Stephen King, Clark Ashton Smith, Lord Dunsany and all the great SF short story writers—such as Pohl, Simak, Del Rey, Asimov et al. I'll also add Mike Marshall Smith there . . . not just because he's a fellow GoH and not because he introduced my LONGEST SINGLE NOTE collection (nor even because I owe him money, and if I say something nice he may extend my credit!) but because he writes absolutely stunning short fiction. His full-length books are exceptionally fine, too, of course . . . but the short stories are to die for. Just check out the one about God opening a shop in a London suburb—just beautiful stuff.
But, of course, out of them all, it's Bradbury who occupies my top slot. He da man! Bradbury has it all—the horror,
the wonder, the excitement, the humanity . . . as I've said before, ad nauseum, people who grow tired of Bradbury have
grown tired of language itself. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES should be available on prescription. (Useless Fact Dept.: SOMETHING WICKED is one of only two books that, when I first read it, I turned back to the beginning and read it again—the other one was CATCH 22. I really do need to get out more . . .)
4. How difficult was it for you to get your early fiction published?
It was pretty difficult. Following several years as a teenager sending stuff off to every address in THE WRITERS AND ARTISTS YEARBOOK, I got a few pieces published in the early 1970s, but only in that era's small press . . . plus a couple in the British Science Fiction Association's magazine. Then I took fifteen years out to concentrate on (a) holding down my job working with computers and (b) helping my wife Nicky bring up our two sons. When I went back to writing, it was 1988 or '89, initially doing book reviews and the occasional interview. Two of the first magazines which took my stuff were FEAR and an oddball
concoction titled STRANGE THINGS ARE HAPPENING. STRANGE THINGS was a fabulous magazine, primarily pop culture and music, run by the guy who owned the Bam Caruso record label (I think his name was Phil Smee). Anyway, some of the stuff I got to review fell below my required quality level—so far below, in fact, that I thought I could write stuff better than this. So I had a go, and the first three stories I sold were to FEAR magazine, Nick Royle's DARKLANDS 2 and Steve Jones and Dave Sutton's DARK VOICES 4.
Prior to those sales—and before my fifteen-year lay-off—I don't think I persevered enough: maybe I just wasn't "hungry" enough, who knows? I did get a lot of encouragement—not least from George Scithers at ASIMOV'S and a chap in England called Keith Seddon—no idea what happened to Keith. And I remember the fiction editor of PENTHOUSE magazine (this was the mid-1960s) sending me a nice letter which, in addition to rejecting the story I'd sent, said that if ever I wrote anything of a more sexual nature then he'd like to see it. Not one to shy away from a challenge, I wrote a story especially for him—and what a stinker it was! His response (and I still have it) tore my story to shreds (and deservedly so—I mean, "the soft white marble of her thighs"?! Come on!). Just goes to show, you should stick to writing about what you know best—and clearly, as a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old, I knew insufficient about sex. (All the fault of reading too many damn books . . . or just the wrong kinds of books: sure, I knew how to kill vampires or navigate a damaged rocket-ship around one of Jupiter's moons, but I was starting to feel that maybe there were things I was missing someplace!)
5. How did your first anthologies come about?
The very first one—NARROW HOUSES—and therefore, in a way, all of them, was thanks to three people: Andy Richards, one of the UK's most dependable specialist book dealers; Mark Ziesing, one of the US's most dependable book dealers and a one-time publisher to boot; and lastly, and most importantly for me, my wife, Nicky. Here's how it happened.
Andy approached me at one of the British FantasyCons—maybe 1988—and said that Mark Ziesing had been trying to encourage him to edit an anthology for Ziesing Books but he, Andy, felt that someone like me would probably do a better job. Did I fancy it? I said I'd give it a go and immediately asked a few authors who were at the convention if they'd consider providing me with a story when I'd received confirmation of pay rates. To their credit, they said they would—"they" being the likes of Ramsey Campbell, Steve Gallagher, Nick Royle, Rob Holdstock, Karl Edward Wagner, Kim Newman and so on (I knew most of these folks because of my reviews, interviews and articles etc). Driving home, I wracked my brain trying to think of a theme . . . all to no avail. Then we stopped at one of the service stations, and Nicky bought me a book on superstitions from the store's remainder table . . . and then, if that were not enough, she spotted a note in there about coffins and how they were regarded as narrow houses for the dead. NARROW HOUSES, I thought. Great title. Supertsitions, I thought. Great theme.
Sadly, however, Mark decided he couldn't do the project justice after all (though, knowing him as I do—he and Cindy being "one" of PS's regular dealer customers—I'm sure he would have done a fine job). So, unperturbed, I went it alone and wrote to a few UK publishers. I drew blanks—pleasant blanks, but blanks nonetheless—before Rob Holdstock suggested John Jarrold at Macdonald (this was at a Mexicon in Harrogate—1989 or '90 possibly—and it was at this Con that Steve Jones sat with me for an hour or so giving me all the help he could muster for editing an anthology).
Anyway, I wrote to John and he asked me down to London for a meeting. The meeting went well, he pitched the idea to the "Powers That Be" . . . and they bought it. Macdonald went on to become Little, Brown (UK), NARROW HOUSES got short-listed for the 1993 World Fantasy Award (Dennis Etchison picked up the Best Anthology trophy for METAHORROR) and Little, Brown and I went on to do another two books. Of course, I had to survive several lunch-time meetings with John (now my agent, incidentally) and the whole Robert Maxwell debacle, but when John left Macdonald for Orbit, I got to work with Colin Murray and Tim Holman—two more great guys—so everything turned out okay.
6. What made you also want to become a publisher?
I'd seen other publishers spring up—notably Cemetery Dance, of course, and then Subterranean—and I just loved what they were doing and the apparent freedom they seemed to have. And, as so often happens with me, that dangerous thought rattled through my head: if they can do it, why can't I do it?
I'd had a yearning to do a magazine for as long as I'd been buying F&SF and ASTOUNDING—ie: ever since I was around nine or ten years old—but I'd costed that particular madness a couple of times and proved to myself that I couldn't afford it. Of course, I also couldn't afford to be a publisher, but two things occurred to me that suggested maybe it could be made to work: The first one was to involve my good friend Simon Conway, who had a design and communications business and for whom I was doing some freelance consultancy work. Simon and I could split the expenses, and Simon could provide the necessary expertise and computer skills to put the books together while I did all the contacting, reading and editing. The second thing was what really made us stand out right from the start . . . and that was the decision to make our books novella-length (20,000 to 40,000 words), my favourite length for fiction.
And that was it. We opened the bank account in December 1998 and brought out our first four books in 1999. Simon left the company in 2001 when he emigrated to the US to join his American wife, and I've carried on with a list that now stands close to one hundred titles . . . but there are days when it seems like twice that number!
7. As a triple-threat in the genre—editor, writer, publisher—which role do you prefer?
That's a toughie, but the bottom line has to be writing. Writing is like a drug to me—when I don't do it for a while, I get antsy and irritable. Of course, the demands of the publishing business play havoc with creativity, but I have managed to turn out quite a lot of development work for TV this past year, working on various projects that probably stand only a single-figure percentage of making it to the small screen—money comes in, of course, but there's little in the way of personal satisfaction. But every now and again I do get time to write a story . . . and that's the best feeling in the world.
I do fewer anthologies these days, but I don't mind because—together with my assistant, Nick Gevers—I'm effectively editing four small anthologies every year with POSTSCRIPTS, and that's a colossal amount of fun. In fact, for me, POSTSCRIPTS is the biggest and brightest jewel in the entire PS Publishing crown—it's what I've always wanted to do . . . edit a magazine. But while the critical response has been excellent—which is very rewarding—we could certainly do with more subscriptions.
8. What are your professional goals, or have you already achieved them?
I've reviewed, interviewed, edited, agented, written fiction (novels, novellas, novelettes and short stories), written for TV (and actually had the work appear!), and written for movies (now I'm just waiting for that work to appear). The latest distraction is the new production company I've set up for TV work, Oceanside Productions—it would be nice to get a project up onto the small screen as a producer. Maybe even as a director! Who knows. So, I guess I've pretty much achieved my professional goals . . . so all I can answer there is "More of the same, please!"
9. What advice would you give to any new authors who are trying to get published?
Read every day and write every day. Write stories when you're starting out, not novels. Master the short form before you try moving onto the long. Have
something in the mail all the time—when something comes back to you, re-work it a little (the chances are that you'll be able to see ways to improve
something you wrote a while back simply because you'll have written so much since then) and then send it off to someone else. Acquaint yourself with the
correct way to submit material; include return postage or let them know it's disposable. Read whatever markets you're sending stuff to. (You wouldn't
believe how many people send me material for POSTSCRIPTS when they haven't read a copy, haven't read a PS book and haven't even read one
of my anthologies. It beggars belief. How do they know what kind of stuff I like?) If you're in the US or Canada, buy THE WRITERS MARKET; if you're in the UK, buy THE WRITERS AND ARTISTS YEARBOOK. There are other publications as well so . . . face it, there's simply no excuse not to get it right.
10. How do you feel about being Special Publisher Guest of Honour at the 2007 World Horror Convention in Toronto?
I'm incredibly excited. You can rest assured that I'll be working hard to make it as enjoyable for the convention-goers as I'm aiming for it to be for me. Plus it's been a few years since I got over to that side of the Atlantic, so Nicky and I plan on making a couple of weeks of it. Can't wait to get away from work for a while . . . though, of course, I'll be taking my laptop!