Back in 2011 I illustrated two stories for THE AKLONOMICON, an anthology of Lovecraftian stories and poems. The print run of the book was very limited and it has long since sold out. Sadly (for me) I only have a PDF of the book, not a print version. PDFs and ebooks may be the way most things get published (now and) in the future but I can’t put them on my shelves so they just don’t seem real.
Below is my illustration for “If Company Should Come” by Edward Morris. I don’t think the story has seen print yet anywhere else. That’s unfortunate. Ed is fine fellow and his way with words makes me very very jealous.
Here are some of the sketches I plan to turn into colored illustrations over the next few months. No doubt I will get distracted and work up new sketches before all of these get completed. I’ve also started work on a graphic novel commission that I expect will take up most of the time that isn’t currently filled by my day job. This week I’m just posting these previews and a few other, older illustrations that haven’t made it to this site yet. There may be some weeks where I don’t post. Hopefully not but …
The more I think about it, the less likely it seems that these folks would get together protect humanity from … anything. So what are they doing? Wilbur might still be interested in calling his “father” to Earth but I doubt that Frank (I’m just going to call him that – typing “the Frankenstein Monster” every time is tedious) or Helen would think that was great idea. Maybe they are planning a heist?
I didn’t plan to post this image on Christmas Day. I schedule posts for Sundays and Wednesdays. I finish coloring an image and then put both the black and white version and the color version into the queue. I finished coloring this one on November 7th. The next available slot for posting was today.
Three beings of improbable, one might even say miraculous, birth sharing fellowship. We are all monsters to someone. And we all need a place to call home, if only for moments. So, no, I didn’t plan to post this image on Christmas Day but it seems like an appropriate choice.
Merry Christmas to all you monsters. May you have rest and companionship today. Amen.
“We met, many years ago,” said the Black Man, “in the Burning City at the World’s End. I gave you a charge. Do you remember?”
I nodded. I said, “I carried your package in my dreams and passed it to an ancient queen.”
“Yes,” he said. “I have a favor to ask of you. If you agree to perform it, I will be in your debt. If you decline … well, I make no threats. I will seek another champion but the chances of success will be lessened in the hands of another.”
I frowned. “That still sounds like a threat.”
He smiled, bluish white teeth standing out between black lips. He said, “It is no threat. Your chances of success are slight. But you have spoken with dragons and walked away unburned. It gives you a meager advantage.”
The road stretched out into the late night blackness. The automobile’s headlights illuminated so little. Above us the star filled sky contrasted sharply with the blank emptiness of the surrounding landscape.
Rosa stirred and lifted her head. I heard her taste the inside of her mouth and find the experience unpleasant. “Where are we?” she asked.
“About two hours farther into the middle of nowhere,” I replied.
She reached for the radio knob and began to seek a broadcast. Mostly static rewarded her efforts. Occasional echoes of a voice were caught and quickly lost. And then she found the music.
Day did not really arrive. The starless darkness of night merely lightened into a lighter grey fog that we designated as dawn more because we needed a morning than because it felt as if the day had come.
Ginnie brought the airship low enough that we could make out details of the risen city. It was clotted with mud and the corpses of sea creatures that had not survived the transition from the unknown depths. The air was thick with the stench of rotting, the rotting of the freshly dead and the rotting of things that had lain undisturbed for centuries.
Quint brought out the snowshoe-like foot wear that he and Barth and Len Wei had been crafting. The wide webbed soles would, ideally, keep us from sinking in the putrid mud. Cyrus had not had such help but he had the guidance of his dreams. Hopefully they would keep him safe until we caught up.