One of the benefits of going to Howard Days is that attendees get first crack at the latest REH-related products. One of the standouts this year was Damon Sasser’s REH: Two-Gun Raconteur No. 12. Damon’s product keeps getting better and better. TGR12 is printed on heavy, brilliant white paper, which makes the color cover of Red Sonya, by Michael L. Peters, really pop and the articles and art within stand out for an enjoyable reading experience. This is a heavy magazine.

Once readers get over the sumptuous look and feel of the magazine, they can’t help but be blown away by the contents. First up is Robert E. Howard’s own “Fists of the Revolution” (with a fine illustration by Jim & Ruth Keegan). Boxing fans take note: this is one of those rare little boxing stories that was almost impossible to find. Its only appearance before TGR 12 is the elusive Fantasy Crossroads Special Edition#1 from 1976.

After REH, Damon has assembled a stellar group of writers to round out the issue. Mark Finn brings us “The Robert E. Howard Medicine Wheel,” which he describes as “an attempt to intuitively explore various aspects of the author’s life and work through the use (or misuse, as the case may be) of Native American symbols and concepts). This isn’t your typical Howard piece, but Finn’s writing, as always, is thought provoking and entertaining.

“Medicine Wheel” is followed by a fine piece by Charles Saunders (of Imaro fame) called “Progeny of Conan”; a “Robert E. Howard Horror Portfolio,” by Jim Ordolis; “Beggars of Life” (an examination of Howard’s interest in Jim Tully) by Brian Leno; “Black Stranger, White Wolflord or, Not Out of the Woods Yet,” by Steve Tompkins (nuff said!); plus reviews, coming attractions, and piles and piles of artwork sprinkled liberally throughout. Limited to 250 copies.

This is an old-school fanzine done right.

For years now, I’ve been buying certain paperbacks whenever I come across them; authors like Richard Stark (and his alter-ego, Donald Westlake), Karl Edward Wagner, George MacDonald Frasier, Robert Van Gulik, and of course, Robert E. Howard. As a used book store junky, I will frequently run across books by the above authors, and, seeing as how the bookstore is in a town of less than a thousand, I’ll buy the book for 98 cents, secure in the knowledge that I can pass it on to someone and hook them on the same authors that I like. It’s worked countless times before, particularly with Robert E. Howard and Donald Westlake. After all, if you’re trying to get someone to try a new author, you don’t want to loan them the book. Give it to them! If it’s theirs, then they can bend the cover all the way back, dog ear the pages, lick their fingers when they are turning them, and write little notes in the margins. That way, if they don’t like the book for whatever reason, they haven’t monkeyed with YOUR valuable collectible.

Well, I came across this website from fellow Clockwork Storybooker Chris Roberson, and I was immediately intrigued. This site lets you “tag” and “release” books into the wild. Each book tag has a unique number, and folks who pick up the book are encouraged to read it and pass it on, but not before going to the site and typing in where the book was found and what they thought of it. Then the next person does the same thing, and you can simply track where all of your books go as they make their way to wherever.

I love this idea. I’m going to tag all of my duplicates and judiciously set them out in high traffic places. The website lets you register for free, of course, and they also sell kits and supplies to make book tagging easier, of course. But you can do it for free–make your own tags–and then send your charges hither and yon. I’m curious to see where my duplicate copy of Black Vulmea’s Vengeance ends up.

I’m not suggesting you gut your collection to spread the REH gospel, but hey, if you have a couple of extra copies of things and you don’t quite know what to do with them, releasing a few books into the wild (and that’s a fitting image for REH books) can’t possibly hurt. You never know who is going to be hooked next…

ROB ADDS: This is a great program. Several English teachers in my school district have been doing this for years. The first time I read Catcher in the Rye was with a Book Crossing book. I left it at the Dallas mega-airport and watched it for a while to see where it went, fun.

One drawback to the hardcovers in which Dark Horse collects the story-sequences of its Conan comic is that they look fatally attractive on one’s bookshelf, and therefore disincentivize the regular purchase of the monthly comic books themselves. Having belatedly caught up with Rogues in the House and Other Stories, the hardbound showcase for the talents of Timothy Truman, Cary Nord, and Tomàs Giorello, I’m feeling so sheepish as to be at risk, or even more at risk, for anthrax, to say nothing of how unable I would be to meet the disappointed gazes of Jim and Ruth Keegan. Mea culpa, mea maxima led-astray-by-laziness culpa.

The lengthy histories of Conan the Barbarian, The Savage Sword of Conan and other Howard-derived forays into the comics medium and their role in seducing and sustaining several generations of sword-and-sorcery fans deserve much more study than was devoted to the topic in Paul Sammon’s Conan the Phenomenon (In Conan: The Ultimate Guide to the World’s Most Savage Hero, Roy Thomas elected to write from “within” the Thurian/Hyborian pseudohistorical continuum as a sort of post-Nemedian scholar, rather than as the key Marvel Comics figure that he was). I find sneers about “comic book dinks” as tiresome as “fanboy” self-hatred, and I’ve always thought that Roy Thomas was a better sword-and-sorcery writer than anyone in the Seventies except Karl Edward Wagner, Charles R. Saunders, and David C. Smith; witness “Devil-Wings Over Shadizar,” “The Hour of the Griffin,” “The Garden of Death and Life,” “The Last Ballad of Laza-Lanti,” and “The Citadel at the Center of Time.”

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For a 17-minute film, go here. Nice opening credits.

Over at his blog, Charles Saunders has just added an interesting new post on the influences driving the protagonist of his latest book of stories, Dossouye. Just click on the link and then click on “Blog.”

Another Howard Days has come and gone; man, am I tired. Friday’s festivities went off without a hitch, and I’m writing this while sitting in the shade under a tree near west Caddo Peak (waiting for the barbeque). Despite rumors that attendance would be down this year, Project Pride had to turn a few folks away from the banquet because they were out of chairs! Every time I looked, there were fresh faces streaming out of the back door of the Howard house with bulging sacks full of gift shop items.

The event itself was pretty laid back, with fewer panel discussions and more time to talk or explore than the last couple years. Mark Finn was extremely entertaining (of course) as the keynote speaker. After dinner everyone gathered at the pavilion for the Cimmerian Awards and the first ever REH Poetry Throwdown.

Saturday was all about corn dogs and sweet tea at the Barbarian Festival, followed by a couple of panels, and dinner at the fabulous Caddo Peak Ranch.

MARK ADDS: This is one of the best Howard Days I’ve ever attended, and not just because I was the guest of honor. Everyone really enjoyed the laid-back, casual atmosphere, and good fellowship and conversation ran high and free. Several stalwarts were openly missed: Leo Grin, Damon Sasser, Don Herron, and Dennis McHaney were remarked upon and their absence was repeatedly lamented.

I had a blast chatting with, literally, everyone this year. The panels were well-attended, as always, and we all really enjoyed the Poetry Throwdown. I’ll talk more about this as I do my own trip report, but I wanted to drop a note in on Rob’s computer (who brings a laptop to the Caddo Peaks, anyway?) and salute absent friends. Viva Howard Days!

LEO ADDS: And for those wondering who won the Cimmerian Awards on Friday evening, you can now click over to the results page and find out. Congratulations to all the winners.

Yawn. It’s day one of Howard Days 2008; Indy banged on my door at 8:00 and, after the traditional breakfast at Jean’s Feed Barn, I figured I had time to post something about yesterday.

Bright and early, my parents and I did a little exploring off the main road around Burkett. From there, we toured Santa Anna and had breakfast/lunch in a dingy little diner located in one of the old buildings. Later, we toured Coleman (the pictures in this post) and drove up to Baird, the county seat of Callahan County.

That evening, we all sat around chatting while people arrived: Bill Cavalier, Kim and Scott Hall, Amy Kerr, Barbara Barrett, Mark Finn, Charles Gramlich, Chris Gruber, Paul Sammon (of Conan the Phenomenon), and so on. We all decided to have dinner at Jean’s instead of driving to Brownwood for the usual Humphrey Pete’s, which put a dent in Frank Coffman’s wallet. He arrived after we’d all gone to eat and assumed we were at Humphrey Pete’s, so he drove to Brownwood . . . then back to Cross Plains. Once Frank arrived, again, we talked into the evening in the courtyard of the 36 West, a stone’s throw from the Howard House.

And now it’s time for me to join the crowd.

I just walked into the Cross Plains Library and guess who I see? None other than Rusty Burke, who’s finishing up work on The Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard (due out at the end of October). I mentioned my blog post from Weatherford, and he claimed that the Cross Plains Library had wireless internet. Score! That should make blog posts a bit easier.

I left Weatherford around 8:00 a.m. and cruised through Peaster. Future visitors take heed: the mini-mart is closed. From there I traveled to Decatur (see below), and toured the old downtown area. While there, I picked up a copy of Dobie’s Coronado’s Children (from The REH Bookshelf) for $6.00.

I was in Decatur because of Howard, of course. In the same letter I quoted last time, to August Derleth, September 4, 1933, Howard says:

Then I returned to Fort Worth, and wandered north west through Decatur, another old town ( which I think of in connection with my great-grand uncle George Walser, who, hauling supplies from that town to the frontier settlements of Montague county back in the early days, lost an arm through a peculiar combination of red licker, a blue blizzard and a fall from his wagon;) through Jacksboro, once the jumping-off place for the buffalo-hunters, and a place I hadn’t seen for about twenty years; and southward back to Cross Plains through the hilly oil belt country.

So, from Decatur, I cruised through Jacksboro on my way to De Leon and on through Comanche, where I had lunch at Star Beau’s Restaurant. And then, finally, into Cross Plains. More later, maybe.

LEO ASKS: So is the title of the book now officially The Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard, or is that still scheduled to be supplanted by The Mad Immensities of Night: Selected Horror Stories and Verse by Robert E. Howard?

AND RUSTY ANSWERS FROM CROSS PLAINS: “To answer your question, the official title is now The Horror Stories of Robert E Howard. The Mad Immensities of Night joins Desolate as Eden (Steve Tompkins’ original title for The Black Stranger and Other American Tales) as Howard-titles-that-should-have-been.

Readers who have shipped with Ahab on his voyage-of-the-damned pursuit of the great white whale might remember that Herman Melville has this to say of master harpooner Queequeg’s natal site: “It is not down on any map; true places never are.” I’m here today to inveigh against a false place that has elbowed its way onto maps and into gaming paraphernalia and goes unchallenged in a dismaying number of articles, reviews, and blog or forum posts: “Hyboria.”

Robert E. Howard’s Hyborian Age was a Cynara to whom Roy Thomas, L. Sprague de Camp, Lin Carter, Karl Edward Wagner and Robert Jordan all sought to be faithful in their fashion. Not one of them ever resorted to the ersatz term “Hyboria,” but recently this un-Howardian usage has been spreading like the invasive kudzu in Wagner’s Knoxville horror story “Where the Summer Ends.” Google “Hyboria” and it comes a-choogling at us with “Kings of Hyboria,” “Gods of Hyboria,” “Welcome to Hyboria,” “Living Hyboria,” “Images of Hyboria,” “Cities of Hyboria,” “The Women of Hyboria,” exhortations to “strap on your sword, it’s time to explore Hyboria,” and the especially irksome “Robert E. Howard’s Hyboria.” I don’t believe that either Kurt Busiek or Tim Truman has slipped and referred to “Hyboria” in one of their scripts for a Conan comic, but reams of Dark Horse promotional copy has demonstrated no such taste and discernment. The term is creeping into submissions to The Dark Man, and Richard Tierney, as well-versed in Howard as he is well-equipped to write weird verse, dignified it with title-status in his “The Doom of Hyboria” cycle for TC. On May 16 of this year the Entertainment Weekly website offered a slideshow of “18 Awesome Imaginary Worlds” and added Austrian-accented insult to injury by not only listing “Hyboria” but illustrating said “world” with a still of Arnold the Isshurian looking particularly learning-disabled.

Why is this happening? I haven’t seen anyone champion the rightness or needfulness of “Hyboria” yet; maybe this post will provoke some such defense. My suspicion is that the spurious term is flourishing out of a vague sense that the Hyborian Age, Howard’s formulation, doesn’t work due to being by definition a when rather than a where, a time rather than a place. So a perceived necessity is the mother of this misbegotten invention: we have to call Conan’s world, the kingdoms that dominate human history from the fall of Acheron to the equally uncushioned fall of imperial Aquilonia, something, don’t we? “Hyboria” is. . .convenient, almost like an abbreviation or acronym in that respect, and why shouldn’t authorial intentions join so much else as burnt offerings on the altar of our modern Moloch Convenience? Thus the Entertainment Weekly feature lumps ‘Hyboria” (described as “vaguely Eurasian,” like some Macao chanteuse seducing sailors in a pulp story) in with Narnia, Oz, Terabithia, and, amusingly, Liberty City from Grand Theft Auto IV.

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Well, here I am in Texas, and life just got a little bit better. Those of you who have never attended Howard Days really need to try to get here. There’s nothing better for a Howard fan. Anyway, I’ve gone to ground in Weatherford, just a few miles from Howard’s birthplace, Peaster, which I’ll probably cruise through in the morning on my meandering way to Cross Plains. My parents are staying in Coleman this year, and if they have an internet connection, I’ll try to post a Howard Days update or two. But don’t count on it.

Every year I like to try to go to a few different places that Howard mentioned going to in his letters: Fort McKavett, Mineral Wells, Fredericksburg, etc. I’ve got a full itenerary planned for the rest of the week, but today — the travel day — was pretty much going to be wasted. My flight into the Dallas/Fort Worth mega-airport was delayed and I didn’t get on the ground until 5:00 p.m., Texas time. Luckily, I’d scribbled some notes before I left California.

In a letter to August Derleth, dated September 4, 1933, REH runs through a laundry list of places he’d visited recently:

I’ve done a little running around in a modest way since I wrote you last, three or four short trips within the confines of the state. I’ve been over to Dallas a couple of times, which lies a couple of hundred miles east of Cross Plains; up to old Fort Griffin, on the clear fork of the Brazos; to Stamford, about a hundred and thirty miles north west of this town, where they have the big annual West Texas rodeo and cowboy reunion the third, fourth and fifth of each July. On one trip to Dallas I had intended going on up to Durant, Oklahoma, and guzzling some legal beer, but circumstances prevented, so I turned south into the rich cotton country, and visited the beautiful old town of Waxahatche, the seat of Trinity University for the first time.

And on it goes. But, I decided, since “circumstances prevented” (my delayed flight) my original plans, I decided to head on south to Waxahatche, just as Howard had done.

I won’t go into detail about the town here, but Howard wasn’t lying: it’s a beautiful old town, as the photos in this post attest. Some good old local boys pointed me in the direction of Trinity U, which is now Southwestern Assemblies of God University, so I’ve managed to knock a few more of Howard’s haunts off my list.