Graphic Content: Redfork by Alex Paknadel and Nil Vendrell

 Being from Kentucky and getting my formal education there, I have always been interested in Appalachian fiction. Many people might dismiss it, particularly its worst examples, as mere “poverty porn,” or fiction where the defining aspect of the characters are their lack of money or opportunities. The better examples of Appalachian fiction are those that look more at why there are few opportunities as well as what keeps people here. There is the constant push and pull of tradition versus progress, but in many of these stories, what has come as a savior to this community, whether religion, industry, or even family, ends up being the villain, the one who keeps a better life for the people of Appalachia just out of arm’s reach. One such clear example of this is the graphic novel Redfork.

Ex-con Noah McGlade has just returned to Redfork, West Virginia, a town where opioid addiction and economic decline have sunk their claws deep into the populace. As he tries to make amends for how he’s hurt others, namely his parents and his own family, he also discovers that another destructive force has come to Redfork. His name is Gallowglass. He seems to be a charming fellow that just wants to help his fellow man, except Gallowglass might not be a man at all. What he is offering to the citizens of Redfork might sound like the answer to their prayers, but it ends up the gateway to a new nightmare. To stop Gallowglass, Noah will have to be the hero he never was before if he wants to save his friends and family.

The graphic novel is full of references to economic hardships and addiction that permeate a lot of Appalachian fiction, but writer Alex Paknadel’s Lovecraftian spin and subterranean horror does give it a gruesome coat of gory red paint, courtesy of artist Nil Vendrell. His monsters are also truly horrific in appearance, but there are also all-too-human monsters. There is some clear symbolism involving Gallowglass and the mining company that has allowed generations of Redfork’s men and women to lose their lives in the mines. All the residents of Redfork, Noah included, are tempted by a Faustian bargain that seems all too familiar to readers of Appalachian fiction: have faith in God and in the company you break your back for. All it will cost is your life above ground.

Have You Read This? Bubba and the Cosmic Blood-Suckers

Becky Spratford has a great blog about readers’ advisory and horror. Truthfully, her blog serves as an inspiration for my own little shadow library in cyberspace. Within her blog or when she gives Readers' Advisory talks to other libraries, she describes horror as thus:

“Horror is a story in which the author manipulates the reader's emotions by introducing situations in which unexplainable phenomena and unearthly creatures threaten the protagonists and provoke terror in the reader.”

The underlined part is important because, by limiting her definition to stories that “provoke terror,” it gets to what many would call a fundamental experience of reading horror: actually being scared. Many stories, though, get put in the horror category because they have ghosts or witches even though they might be romance, suspense, or in this case a return to one of  Joe Lansdale’s best stories. Joe Lansdale’s Bubba and the Cosmic Blood-Suckers has the same comedic tone as his truly excellent short story “Bubba Hotep,” but it also falls well into the genre of action adventure.

Like many horror/action hybrids, this novel has its share of vampire-like creatures as well as ghosts and zombies, but it focuses on a supersecret organization dedicated to protecting America from supernatural incursions. It almost sounds like Clive Cussler crossed with Stephen King, except for the fact that one of their greatest assets is the King of Rock N’ Roll himself, Elvis Presley. And there are vampires, but they don’t sparkle, and they don’t brood. What they do is suck blood until people are pretty much empty Caprisun containers, still somehow alive but able to be rolled up like a sleeping bag.

Yes, this novel is an official prequel to one of Lansdale’s greatest stories—which can be found in The Best of Joe Lansdale, if anyone’s interested. People familiar with the Oceans movies might recognize the formula of getting a team of individuals together, each with a specific set of skills, and set them against something, only this is no casino they’re knocking over but the queen of vampires Big Momma.

While it doesn’t always have the sweet sentiment of Bubba Hotep, save for when Elvis talks about his Mama’s soul, used by Colonel Parker to blackmail Elvis into serving the team, this tale is still an entertaining blend of Lovecraftian horror, vampire hunting, sorcery, and what many readers would see in Lansdale’s mystery series Hap and Leonard. You might picture the narrator simply regaling this story on a back porch, iced tea or beer in hand, you’ll marvel at the amount of smart one-liners that put many action movies to shame. In short, you might find the sensibilities of this story to be—I so hope I’m the first to use this word—Lansdalian. While it might not have you sleeping with the lights on, it does offer a enjoyable, schlocky adventure for cinephiles who are nostalgic for ‘70s and ‘80s horror that was more excessive than ethereal and who love movies that have more explosions than expositions.