Lights Out, the mega-collection of stories, is now out in a beautiful trade paperback edition (as well as in ebook editions).
If you’d like it signed and inscribed by me, click this link for the Signed Books page and scroll down in the trade paperback section to find it. The price includes shipping and handling fees (U.S. only).
To get it unsigned, hit this link to Amazon. NOTE: I will not be signing copies bought unsigned at Amazon. I’m sorry. This would actually end up costing you more than if you just bought the book from me direct. For signed books, this is the page you want: DouglasClegg.com/signed-books
700+ pages, includes a Foreword, a never-before-collected novelette, 32 tales in all, plus an afterword and listing of first publication of the stories.
I’m very proud of this edition from Alkemara Press, and it’s a beautiful trade paperback with very readable typeface.
On the Ides of March
Recall the time when Julius Caesar
Heard prophecy from some old geezer,
A sayer of sooth with this strange teaser:
Beware the Ides of March.
On Senate floor, with Caesar seizing,
And Senators, all ’round him, pleasing,
And Brutus – inside – burning, freezing,
The day: the Ides of March.
With drum beats in their hearts, incessant,
Brutus and the others present
Played their parts, their play unpleasant,
‘Twas called “The Ides of March.”
Then Caesar fell, with swift unease,
Knives cutting through his symmetries,
And meeting Death upon his knees,
Sighed, “Ah! The Ides of March.”
So question this, if you would reason,
Why the god of war’s wild season,
In ancient Rome should cause such treason,
Accursed Ides of March?
Why the day known as the Ides?
Was it the moon that drew the tides,
Which forced these men to take their sides
Upon that Ides of March?
Did Caesar hold the expectation
(Encouraged by the seer’s narration)
His day had come, the sweet cessation
Of breath, that Ides of March?
Or do such legends grow from hindsight,
To comfort us who hope to find light
While cowering in humble blind-sight
Before our Ides of March?
©2011, 2019 Douglas Clegg
All 3 novels of the Criminally Insane series are now in both ebook and trade paperback editions PLUS the entire series in one big 800+ page paperback.
Click the covers below to go check them out on Amazon. Or, if you’re in the U.S., get your trade paperback copies directly from me, signed and inscribed to you (if you wish), by scrolling down the Signed Books area here.
Hope you enjoy the reads,
I write horror, suspense, and fantasy fiction for readers like you. I believe all good reading is meant to be a pleasure – even the dark stuff. This blog will have works in progress, excerpts from various published titles, recommendations of books in genres I love, and anything else that might interest you and me, both.
I hope you enjoy it and return often. Thank you.
I’ve been asked why I write this fiction many times, from a relatively early age onward. I’ve never had a reasonable answer — until now. The process of writing my current book, Mr. Darkness, has brought me around to it:
Whether in dreams, beliefs, thoughts, fantasies, remnant architecture of an impossible world, the haunted past or the hopeful future, we live half our lives in a dark place.
Even when our eyes are open and we’re reading or walking or working or relaxing, we also know the dark place is still there, inside us. We take it for granted; it doesn’t disturb us — for the most part.
But sometimes, it does.
The fiction of the dark is important to explore. It is us; it is part of who we are; it won’t be denied; you live within it whether you admit it or not; and even better, it can be exciting and thrilling and fun.
The ghosts of life dwell in our minds — and not in the part that looks out from us upon the daily obligations of getting on in life, the “what we do” during waking hours; although these ghosts exist simultaneous to the daylight itself and we always know they’re there.
The open-eyed world distracts us temporarily, but at some point during the day or night, we know we’ll return to the dark.
Close your eyes. Where are you? Not “where are you on earth?” but “where are you — the ‘you’ behind your eyes — when you close them?
Where have you gone? Where do you imagine the ‘you’ exists?”
It is a place of impulse, irrationality, influences of the imagination that are both ours and from others (imagined or real) who’ve influenced us (for good or ill) during our lifetimes.
Dark fiction continues to fascinate me. I felt its pull when I was very young. Despite the more sunlit reading, I’ve always loved the fiction of night, where all of us raise glimmering if imprecise lanterns to explore our own versions of the Lascaux Caves as we uncover evidence of more than what we see when we open our eyes.
There’s nothing morbid in this particular excavation anymore than there is in any archeological dig, despite the ancient tragedies and terrors and wonders found beneath the earth, under jungle vines, or buried in a mountain of volcanic ash.
Bring what resides in the dark into the light. Examine it. Appreciate it. Discover its connection to everything. Enjoy its treasures. Face its absurdity. But be sure and unwind Ariadne’s thread as you go so you don’t get lost down the spiraling avenues.
Call it horror, call it nightmare, call it fable, call it fantasy, call it irrational, call it thriller, call it psychological. All names that judge the dark, but none that adequately describe it.
And so I write dark fiction and return to the archeological dig of story to bring these shards of imagination into sunlit realms.
– Douglas Clegg
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