Haints, Plate-Eyes and Demons, oh my

Frankly, I don’t like reading specific directions for summoning evil spirits because I’m afraid I’ll accidentally think them or recite them and suddenly a hideous monster will appear.

demonFrom hoodoo to witchcraft to high magic, the lore is filled with cautions about the dangers of summoning bad stuff because unless you know what you’re doing, the bad stuff will come after you. This would be kind of like purchasing a rabid dog to keep traveling salesmen away from your door. The odds seem high that the dog will attack you first.

Another reason I don’t like reading specific directions for summoning evil spirits is the feds. They probably track this stuff and the last thing I need is the NSA telling the FBI that I used the search terms “black arts conjure oil” or “hoodoo demon-calling spell” enough times for it “to be a problem” as opposed to looking for crossword clues.

Writers often talk about stuff like this. We worry about doing research about how to kill people, make bombs, mix deadly and untraceable poisons, and making pacts with the devil. The people who have that kind of history on their computers usually tern out to be serial killers or the kind of nut cases who join ISIS and saying “I’m just writing a book” probably won’t cut it when the cops arrive.

I didn’t worry about this when I was writing Conjure Woman’s Cat because for that book, I was looking up good spells, good charms, and how to reverse jinxes. But in the sequel, my good conjure woman is combating a black arts root doctor and so I have to know more about that side of the business for her to be able to speculate about what he’s doing and how.

Since I try to make the spells and uses of herbs as realistic as possible within the world of conjure, I don’t feel right just making it up. Suffice it to say, the curses I’ve found aren’t going into the sequel verbatim. For one thing, I have to find a spell or recipe in multiple places before I’ll trust that it’s more than the imaginings of one resource. For another, what if the thing works as advertised? I don’t need to see on CNN that people are using my book to summon demons to go after their spouses’ lovers or to disrupt law-abiding governments (if any). So, everything has to be blurred around the edges: exact enough to make a real conjure woman nod in agreement but inexact enough to your child, spouse or neighborhood crook can’t use it.

By the way, plate-eyes aren’t seen very much any more, but generally they’re unpleasant, what with their glowing eyes the size of plates. If one bothers you, you can get rid of it with anything that smells bad. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to use any plate-eyes in the sequel to Conjure Woman’s Cat because nobody seems to know how to contact one of them. Haints, well, they’re okay, but they usually have their own agendas.

Demons, though, they’re looking pretty good, figuratively speaking, because they’re easier to summon that most people think and fewer people are going to question whether the author has used the right technique or the wrong technique to call them.

When the book comes out, I promise it won’t contain the exact technique for calling a demon. It will be close enough to make the book slightly dangerous. But that’s what readers want.

–Malcolm

KIndle cover 200x300(1)Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of “Conjure Woman’s Cat” and a batch of paranormal Kindle short stories.

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Review: ‘Speaking in Forked Tongues’ by Brad Gallaway

Speaking in Forked Tongues, by Brad Gallaway, Signal 8 Press (April 22, 2014), 306 pages

Forked TonguesBrad Gallaway’s dark fantasy/horror novel Speaking in Forked Tongues is inventive, delightfully written tale about a young man who calls demons for a living. When folks can’t solve their earthly problems, they contact Helping Hands agency who sends out a caller with an underworld solution. Callers who have been to hell and back multiple times are the best in the business.

While the publisher’s description claims that protagonist “Bren Barran is a normal guy in most ways,” one might ask whether a young man who was adopted by demons, who grew up in hell, and who brings clients and demons together to fix what nobody else can fix can possibly be normal in most ways. Yet, Gallaway makes Barran seem normal, in spite of a predilection for dark, self-deprecating humor.

Unlike poor Faust who sold all of his soul for help from hell, Barran’s clients usually part with a mere sliver, insuring that the demon on call gets what he wants, Barran’s boss Nareth gets what she wants (a cut of the action), the callers get paid and that the happy clients have enough soul left to bring in repeat business.

What could possibly go wrong?

Even though hell is a well-run, ably governed and a relatively safe place quite unlike what we’ve all heard, there’s room there for jealousy and discord. Truth be told, Barran doesn’t think demonkind is any worse than humankind when it comes to bad traits except for the fact demons are physically larger, have claws, and know dangerous (and harmful) spells. So, when Helping Hand’s callers start disappearing and when Barran starts getting attacked on the street, it isn’t long before (seemingly) all hell breaks lose.

There’s a bit of expected gore in this book and a wonderfully tangled plot for Barran to navigate as he tries to solve his agency’s demon problem while staying alive. Naturally, Mom and Dad want to help, but according to the rules, they also have to be paid.  The bad guys in this story are really bad and Gallaway makes them seem uncomfortably plausible while leading readers to an ending they won’t see coming.

On a minor note, a warning to parents: The novel’s listing on Amazon claiming that the book is suitable for ages 1 to 17 is either an error or a devilish promotional trick. Teens and adults of all ages can probably stand the heat, while enjoying the trip.

Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of paranormal short stories and contemporary fantasy novels.