04/03/2026 Guest Review: Craig Brownlie's Q1 Book Report: Reading Not Drowning-2
- Candace Nola
- 3 hours ago
- 7 min read
Reviews and thoughts on writing with Craig Brownlie
That sounds a little anxious, though definitely in the proper order.
RE/Search 8/9: J.G. Ballard V. Vale (Editor), Andrea Juno (Editor)
The Hematophages: Splatterings Stephen Kozeniewski
Dark Entries Ian Rankin, Werther Dell'Edera
Madness and Greatness Can Share the Same Face Amanda Headlee
There are two parts to these reviews for the first quarter of 2026. The first half is already floating about on Uncomfortably Dark. As always, I read more stuff than covered here, but these works are what I feel like discussing.
So, there was this pandemic, and I was stuck in the house a lot. I read even more than usual because I could sit by a window and glance outside longingly with every page turn. I might have gone down a J.G. Ballard rabbit hole at the time. It was not the safest of mental journeys, considering the world seemed to have taken residence in one of his more disturbing tales.
In case you’re not familiar with Ballard, he may be best known for Empire of the Sun, a fictionalized account of his childhood in China during the Japanese occupation. In case you’re not familiar with RE/Search, each issue was an insanely dense tome focused on one topic, i.e., incredibly strange music, treated with scholarly detail. I’ve acquired a small cache over the years and they’re a font of forgotten information- too much to digest multiple issues in a single year.
8/9 took on J. G. Ballard before the fame of Spielberg’s film engulfed Ballard’s life. He was deemed an iconoclast with a fixation on body horror and disaster. An unfinished medical school education gave Ballard all the information he needed to keep up with scientific journals and embed all their madness in his tales.
After digesting the complete Ballard short stories, I took a few years before approaching the man himself in these pages. He’s far more affable than his polemics (delivered beautifully) and graphic sex horror might lead you to expect. As he declares, it’s not like what he writes really makes good conversation down at the pub. If you can locate a copy, get this for the anecdote about the cameo of Ballard’s short story about Ronald Reagan at the 1980 Republican convention, but stay for his thoughts on what actually makes his approach to horror unique.
Which leads us to Hematophages: Splatterings because Kozeniewski provides some wonderful insights into his own process. H:S is a too brief collection of stories in the Hematophage (space vampire does not do them justice) universe created by Kozeniewski nigh on a decade ago. Like Ballard’s work, heady intelligence resides within these stories. Not only that, but both authors have mastered their material sufficiently to scatter details in the most effective manner, be it Ballard’s use of a skywriter or Kozeniewski’s stone hospital. Mix in their mutual love of hard science and their remarkable warmth in sharing their trade secrets, and you have something worthy of the top shelf.
Imagine my pleasure discovering a ramshackle bookstore with a dirt parking lot near Duke University in Durham, North Carolina. They bragged about weird comics, but they had quite a bit more (see below for Muriel Spark joy). And they had some special comics-- If I once knew that Ian Rankin had ventured into the Vertigo universe, then I had forgotten.
In Dark Entries, Rankin/Dell'Edera accomplish with artistic and narrative pace what often defies graphic novel mysteries meant to be standalone. Familiarity with John Constantine is almost unnecessary as the character is in full pompous wanker mode (at least outwardly) placing him well in the Raymond Chandler mode of sarcastic knight. The longtime saving grace of the character is his frequent failure to live up to the chivalric side which usually goes with such protagonists. (Rankin establishes this character failing early.) Without revealing too much, Ballardian degradation and desolation arrive halfway through the tale, first in the audience observing the tale. (Just because I can mention it as thematically related, once you finish Dark Entries, go and watch the 2012 Italian film Reality, directed by Matteo Garrone. It’s very different from this graphic novel, but I loved it, and after you read all of these books- which you should do- then you might need a break.)
Speaking of dark magic and cosmic terror, Headlee’s short story collection, Madness and Greatness Can Share the Same Face, moves through a universe of horror, building anxiety from tale to tale. Like Ballard and Kozeniewski, Headlee embeds her weird/disturbing/challenging stories in tactile detail. The variety of stories included in Madness/Greatness belies a coherence of storytelling sense, which creates a satisfying whole. Unlike most short horror, Headlee places interpersonal connections at the center of her stories. Too often, authors give characters short shrifts on meaningful relationships in the headlong rush to the scary bits. Here, the horror remains powerfully in front of stage, but the characters’ interactions increase the impact because they have become real to us, rather than two-dimensional stand-ins for the reader. (Headlee, Kozeniewski and Rankin share this gift, which is an area where I would say Ballard struggles at times.)
As for bringing the hammer, Headlee and Kozeniewski follow Ballard’s trailblazing into the realms of intense body horror placed against cosmic backgrounds, while Rankin/Dell'Edera don’t skimp on the hellish anatomical destruction. None have the medical focus from Ballard’s stories, but that does give them more opportunity to surprise and to expand the possibilities presented by the universe as well as our anatomies. Headlee’s surrealism, as in The Faunling and The Wreckage of Sin, also brings a wonderful chemistry to her creations, which makes for a mix even Ballard would accept when he edited journals. (As he describes in RE/Search, he was a difficult sale because he sought a piquant individuality which placed most submissions in competition with his own imagination.)
Let’s not ignore the intertwining of stories on display across all these works. The episodic nature of comic books lands Dark Entries smack dab in the midst of a woven universe not curated by Rankin or Dell'Edera. Their challenge, which they handle beautifully, is playing in someone else’s ballfield. As required, the occasional Easter egg appears, but the strength of the story is riffing on the established John Constantine trapped in unimaginable doom. Headlee’s accomplishment is knitting together explanations and motivations without the distracting effect of ill-placed backstories. I appreciate writers who don’t put the brakes on for a look back, so it takes real skill to share information without losing the thread. Similarly, Kozeniewski’s Splatterings is a sample of the Hematophage universe in which each tale works on its own and would serve as a fine entry point into his galactic horror. As for Ballard, when I think of interleaving tales, I come back to his Florida stories for their shared emotional destitution, which feels so akin to Jeff VanderMeer’s equally classic Area X.
And just to leave us all with a bit to fret over, Lovecraft, as progenitor of cosmic horror, certainly brought the supernatural to bear. When Rankin and Dell'Edera drop us into the nether regions, is it too far from the harsh nature and existential crisis of being stranded on an asteroid (Kozeniewski) or down a sinkhole (Headlee)? One person’s cosmic terror may well look like another’s supernatural dread.
What’s driving Craig apeshit: Sometimes I think that I read so much just to learn how other folks make their work. Nowadays, I like to absorb good craft. And if it’s all about structure in long-form writing, then where can we go for ideas?
Let’s consider Muriel Spark. I occasionally complain about great writers that should influence all genres and here we go again. Spark published 22 novels, plus poetry collections and numerous other works. People occasionally ask who do you read a lot and there are many authors, but, goodness, there has been a surfeit of Spark. Her works bring me joy because they are sarcastic, suddenly cruel, hilarious, interesting, and scratch that itch. Initially, I heard Memento Mori might be good. It was dark and funny and smart, and a habit began.
So why bring this up here? Not so you can go around muttering that Craig has a crush on a lady author dead for two decades. (Don’t get me started on Myrna Loy.) I raise Muriel Spark because her books are always structurally interesting, which is a miracle considering her concise phrasing and precise word choices. By this, I mean that she looks like a minimalist but comes at her tale so sidewise that it feels somehow beyond such a formal categorization.
What truly makes me go for the next potato chip in the bag is the way Spark develops new structures for so many of her works. Everything is approached obliquely, but so casually that you swear this is another pants-er (ask a writer) without an ending in mind. Sometimes she jumps around in time. Sometimes she spends seemingly too long in an apparently pointless side story.
And Spark loves a good side story. I recently finished Symposium, and she just spent three paragraphs on the entire story of a character who will never appear on stage. The book jumps in time with such a carefree attitude that you just need to let it wash over you. Other Spark books spend many of their pages with a protagonist stuck in bed, or a main character observing the villain cause the plot, or a send-up of Watergate set in a convent. I may be alone here, but I do love an author who so blatantly states, “because I can.”
Did I mention that Symposium has a whole side quest about a possible serial killer? I mean, it’s ostensibly about a dinner party…
Treat yourself to a few fingers of your favorite after-dinner drink because these are all going to require a moment or two of contemplation
Bio: If you want to know Craig, subscribe to his monthly newsletter on Substack or go buy Five Raging Hearts: Splatterpunk for the Soul, Hotel of Haunts, Demons and Death Drops, Wands: Year of the Tarot, Unspeakable Horrors 3, Hammer, Nail, Foot, Thick As A Brick, A Book of Practical Monsters, Comic Book Summer and/or Post-Apocalyptic Policing With Frida Kahlo. It’s not a complete list, but it’ll do. Look for the audiobook of the last one later this year.
