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I was on The Horror Show with Brian Keene!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on November 15, 2017 by dwbarbee

Oh, hey, blog. I’ve been neglecting the shit out of you, what with all my blogging over on Bizarro Central and the living of the life. I’ve had lots of reading, writing, and babymaking to keep track of lately, and I totally forgot to tell you that I WAS ON THE HORROR SHOW WITH BRIAN KEENE

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Yup, while I was on my convention bender this summer, I sat down with Keene, Mary Sangiovanni, and my good buddy Karl Fischer, to shoot the shit and tell lies. You can check it out HERE. I kind of can’t believe that I forgot to blog about it, because it was one of the best times I’ve ever had as an author. Anyway, back into the mines…

P.S.: If you’re attending BizarroCon this weekend, you’ll hear the announcement of my next book, which I’m forbidden to tell you about. But after that announcement is made, I can share more details, so keep a lookout here and all the other social media purgatories I call home.

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New Release! MORE BIZARRO THAN BIZARRO!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on September 20, 2017 by dwbarbee

Hey! Bizarro Pulp Press has a new anthology of weird fiction, and I’m in it! My story’s called “The Owlheads Stalk at Midnight,” but there are a ton of other great writers in there. Get a copy at amazon!

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Bizarro Pulp Press presents… A showcase of the written word that represents the best of the weird and the grotesque; More Bizarro Than Bizarro is a gallery of the strange and unusual, including possibly-dead detectives, a beer-head invasion, some especially delicious cookies, the dream of Jackie Kennedy, and of course, the best story of a talking penis ever written in the history of classical literature.

Con Report: Cartersville Comic Con

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on August 31, 2017 by dwbarbee

I’m busy as hell, but I have to write a report of the convention I attended earlier this month. It was the last one of the year. In 2017 I went to six conventions. Now I’m planning for next year along with publishing two more books and bringing a baby human being into the world. Damn I’m busy. So this post will sum up what all happened while also giving you a few funny pictures I found. Like my table, which wasn’t very funny.

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Luckily, this picture is fucking hilarious.

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There is always a ton of cool stuff at these sorts of comic cons, and Cartersville didn’t disappoint. I didn’t buy anything, but there was a print of Deadpool holding Harley Quinn’s tits that I REALLY WANTED and didn’t let myself buy. The print was censored with post-it notes, and I suspect that Deadpool’s hands might have been blown off so that he’s just holding up bloody stumps and you can see Harley’s bare breasts. God, that would’ve been great. UPDATE: I found that image. No nudity, but it’s still good.

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Then there were the cosplayers. There was a guy dressed as the Kingpin who looked exactly like him, and someone in an Oscar the Grouch costume complete with trash can. Then there was this guy, with the cleverest shirt there ever was.

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Overall, the convention was awesome and I met some good people. North Georgia is full of hicks and I love them. They took special interest in A Town Called Suckhole, so I’m hoping that they will like my next redneck bizarro novel (bigger, crazier, and rednecker than Suckhole—which is all I can say about it right now). At the end of the day, I drove home through some sluggish Atlanta traffic, got some Bojangles for my wife and kid, and sat down and watched Kong: Skull Island. It was surprisingly pretty good. Later that night I put the cash I made selling books in this toy bathtub. It’s a great way to spend a Saturday.

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Con Report: The Ghost Town Writer’s Retreat

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on August 10, 2017 by dwbarbee

The inaugural Ghost Town Writers Retreat. A… thing… that will live in infamy. I was there. This is what I saw. Actually, I didn’t see any of the clusterfucks that made this convention what it was. After realizing how spread apart the event was, and how inaccurate and inconvenient the schedule was, I pretty much retreated back to my hotel room and wrote as much as possible while smoking legalized marijuana. I was a proximity player at best. The dysfunction of the Ghost Town Writers Retreat never quite involved me. But others? Other who were required to be an integral part of the event? To be involved with the event, and therefore involved in its dysfunction? People like Brian Fucking Keene? Well, you should go find what he had to say about it. It’s a tirade for the ages. Keene’s fangs are thirsty for justice.

My weekend was mostly spent with my friends Karl and Whitney Fischer. Karl has always been a good friend and you should read his book, Towers. The two of them picked me up from the airport, we hung out a while in Denver, drove through the mountains, checked into the same hotel, and then acquired our convention badges. That’s where we met one of the organizers, a gigantic blob who I’m told wore the same clothes all weekend and smelled like rotting cheese. I don’t know any of that for a fact. I just know that he handed us all the name badges and told us to find ours. Then he told us other things, all while stuffing his face with cream puffs, or some sort of white dessert thing. Karl and I separated, then I found Brian Keene, Amber Fallon, and Mary SanGiovanni, then separated from them to find Karl again, but got lost, and I wandered around this tourist trap Twin Peaks knockoff until I went back to the hotel. A pair of girls saw me toasting some Pop-Tarts for dinner. They walked past and said something clever and flirty and interesting. I replied, “Pop-Tart Dinner” three times in a droning voice. It was smooth.

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The hotel was run by little goblin men, and their complimentary breakfast was satisfactory even without burning my fingers on their malfunctioning toaster. On Friday and Saturday I got to work to make this con work in my favor. First I went to see a talk with Stephen Graham Jones (one of the greats, at least in my opinion), and I finally got to meet him. He read my story The Night’s Neon Fangs, but I missed the BizarroCon where I was going to thank him in person. Unfinished business, I guess. It was much like when I met Joe Lansdale at Scares that Care, in that SGJ was nice, cool, and just as awesome as I’d always hoped he’d be. Later that afternoon I hung out with Keene, who I could tell was having trouble with the con organizers. He was a man with a demonic monkey on his back.

We hung out with Keene some more, as well as Amber and a ton of new people I’d never met but who were lovely as hell. We also saw Nicolas Day, who is a great guy all around. Fantastic storyteller. He accompanied Karl and I to our recording of The Horror Show with Brian Keene. Keene’s been talking about having me on there for what seems like years, and we finally did it, even bringing Karl along for the ride. Getting to meet Stephen Graham Jones and do the Horror Show pretty much made the convention worthwhile for me. Then I went ahead and got a short story written from scratch, and that sealed the deal. Things worked out, at least for my obscure ass, slipping under the radar like I did. I spent all of Saturday writing, most of Sunday hanging out with Karl and Whitney, and then traveled by plane and van for 9 hours to arrive back home at 2:00 am. I watched the last few minutes of Game of Thrones and fell asleep. Now there’s so much junk to be done it’s absurd.

Hey, if you want me to keep doing those MSPaint Game of Thrones portraits of characters who’ve been killed, say so in the comments. I’m not gonna bother with it anymore if no one wants to see ‘em.

Con Report: Scares that Care 2017

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on July 25, 2017 by dwbarbee

Nine damn hours I drove through the backwoods of Georgia and the Carolinas. Nine hours of ass-numbing, leg-cramping, dipshit-driver-dodging sojourning to get to SCARES THAT CARE 2017. The time behind the wheel might have been rough, but the trip was worth it. I saw a lot of great friends and the con itself is thrown for a good cause: kicking cancer’s ass.

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After checking into my hotel and getting a much-needed shower, I traveled to the convention and started wandering around. There was a ton of horror paraphernalia, creepy knickknacks, writers slinging books, and folks wearing crazy costumes. I didn’t get pictures of any of this stuff, I was so busy gawking at it with my actual eyes. Eventually I ran into the Grindhouse Press crew (CV Hunt, Anderson Prunty, and John Wayne Comunale). I wandered around some more with John Wayne for most of that evening and he was good enough to capture a selfie of us. I had half a beer and then watched Adam Cesare read a story that made me want to commit murders. With beer and homicide flowing through my veins, I stepped out and eventually drove back to my hotel to get some rest.

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Then came Saturday, where things got so crazy that I’m just going to start name-dropping people now: Scott Cole, Wile E. Young, Frank Edler, Matt Serrafini, Eric Hendrixson, Amber Fallon, and John F’n Skipp was kind enough to introduce me to JOE LANSDALE, a personal hero of mine. I actually was able to give Mr. Lansdale a signed copy of A Town Called Suckhole, my redneck detective thriller. I even managed to tell him that I’m the Sebastian Haff to his Elvis Presley, which I bet a ton of young men have said to him over the years. Mr. Lansdale is a seriously nice man and, to me, at least, an example to all creative people. We only spoke for a moment, but it was great. He’s got a great reading voice, also. I did a reading that evening with Christian Jenson (who was grotesque and wonderful) and Wrath James White (also a very nice man with a fantastic reading voice). I listened in on a recording of Brian Keene’s The Horror Show, where he received a golden statue of appreciation from several people he’s mentored over the years. It was a touching moment. I wouldn’t say Keene has mentored me necessarily (I don’t live in his basement… yet), but he’s been a huge supporter of mine. He dropped my name on his podcast, introduced me at my reading (describing it as an atomic bomb!), and we made plans for me to appear on the Horror Show at the Ghost Town Writers Retreat. Brian Keene was also in charge of managing the convention itself, so it’s basically a goddamn superhero and another towering figure to look up to.

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Now I want to mention the hotel we stayed at. It was run by nice people, they did not disturb my room, and I never got mugged. I will say, however, that it was an old hotel that reminded me of my one and only trip to Panama City Beach as a teenager, urged on by an acquaintance like it was a rite of passage. Panama City Beach sucked, the hotel room we had sucked, and I got sick on that trip without touching an ounce of beer. Anyway, this story is way better. On Saturday night, hanging out with the Grindhouse crew again (they were staying at the same hotel, and were basically the first and last people I saw at the con), I managed to destroy this hotel. We were drinking and smoking out near the benches when I sat down and leaned back against a post… which moved. Sitting on my ass, I expected the roof to cave in on me since I’d just knocked a post off balance. But it didn’t. Instead I made my friends nearly die laughing, which is what I like to call the David Barbee Experience. Unwittingly, I had discovered the utter uselessness of this post. It held nothing up, and was merely wedged between the concrete sidewalk and the awning above. It had a drain pipe attached to it that did not hook up to a gutter. This post was meaningless, and I had revealed its stupidity to the world.

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The next morning I packed up and exited my room to see CV, Anderson, and John Wayne out by the stupid post again. We hung out a minute, said some goodbyes, and then I started my nine hour drive back home to Georgia. Scares that Care ruled. Next up is Ghost Town in Colorado, which I will fly to like a civilized person, and then Cartersville Comic Con, which will only be an hour or so away from home. After that, who knows where my quest to discover useless things and destroy them will take me?

Wonderland Preliminary Ballot 2016

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on June 19, 2017 by dwbarbee

Voting for the 2016 Wonderland Award has opened up, and this year I have a novel on the list. I can’t tell you who to vote for, but since I always add an image to my blog posts, I’ll leave this here:

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Here are the all the awesome books to choose from. It’s gonna be competitive this year. Send your 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place votes in the Novel and Collection categories to bizarrocon@gmail.com with the subject line “Wonderland Book Award Preliminary Ballot.” Preliminary voting ends July 31st.

NOVELS

Aunt Poster by John Wayne Communale
Automated Daydreaming by William Pauley III
Bacon Fried Bastard by David Barbee
Bastard Virtues by Daulton Dickey
Bonespin Slipspace by Leo X. Robertson
Building Heaven by Andrew Osborne
Charge Land by John Wayne Communale
Death Gets A Book by Frank Edler
Dope Tits by Bix Skahill
Drunk Driving Champion by Eric Hendrixson
Every Time We Meet at the Dairy Queen Your Whole Fucking Face Explodes by Carlton Mellick III
Exquisite Corpse Orgy by Kevin Sweeney
Governor of the Homeless by G. Arthur Brown
Great White House 2: Billary Bites Back by Christoph Paul & Arthur Graham
Guitar Wolf by Nicholaus Patnaude
Hate from the Sky by Sean M. Thompson
I Miss the World by Violet LeVoit
I Will Rot Without You by Danger Slater
Joy by Russell Holbrook
Kaiju Canyon by Shane Cartledge
Long-Form Religious Porn by Laura Lee Bahr
Mother Fucking Black Skull Death by Matthew Vaughn
Not Safe For Kids by Kevin Shamel and Jim Agpalza
Puppet Skin by Danger Slater
Pussy Transmission by Wol-vriey
Rattled by the Rush by Chris Kelso
Satan’s Little Helper by Kevin Sweeney
Shit Luck by Tiffany Scandal
Starr Creek by Nathan Carson
Static/Oregone by Jamie Grefe
The Hottest Gay Man Ever Killed in a Shark Attack by Douglas Hackle
The Mortuary Monster by Andrew James Stone
The Nightly Disease by Max Booth III
The Terrible Thing That Happens by Carlton Mellick III
Tetraminion by R.A. Roth
The Ugly by Alexander Boldizar
We Did Everything Wrong by CV Hunt
World Revolver by Gina Ranalli

COLLECTIONS

A Collapse of Horses by Brian Evenson
All the Toxic Waste from My Heart by Kevin Strange
Berzerkoids by MP Johnson
Cartoons in the Suicide Forest by Leza Cantoral
Death Confetti by Jennifer Robin
Ecstatic Inferno by Autumn Christian
Minivan Poems by Justin Grimbol
Turdmummy by Zoltan Komor
Very True Stories Starring Jeff O’Brien by Jeff O’Brien

Bacon Fried Bastard @ Splatterpunk Zine

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on June 12, 2017 by dwbarbee

The great folks at Splatterpunk Zine were kind enough to give Bacon Fried Bastard a review. I love reviews!

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Here’s some of the praise they had for BFB: “David W. Barbee is a bizarro force to be reckoned with, and if you haven’t read him yet you should really do yourself a favor and buy BACON FRIED BASTARDS; then buy all his other books, and send me a thank you note after you’ve witnessed how great of a writer he is. With BACON FRIED BASTARDS, Barbee is on top form. This book is so damn fun and the ending was about as perfect as it could be. Get it now, pour yourself ten drinks, and enjoy the drunken ride.”

Gigantic thanks to Sam Richard for this review. I met Sam last year at BizarroCon and he was cool as hell. You can put your own review of Bacon Fried Bastard HERE, and maybe buy a copy while you’re at it.