World Fantasy, Brighton, 31st October to 3rd November 2013

Thursday 31st October
My third convention in Brighton but my first World Fantasy event, I went along with my old friend and critiquing partner Sue Moorcroft (in case you don’t know her, I interviewed her here).  She writes romantic fiction but is also a writing tutor, so came along for the experience of a big world con in a different genre.

After stashing our bags at the Travelodge (which was less than 5 minutes walk away), we made our way to the Hilton Metropole which is - quite simply - an enormous venue.  Going through the revolving doors into the grand lobby was an experience in itself, then the double sweeping staircase to get up to the first floor was brilliant.  The first person I saw in the registration area was Pixie Puddin (and hey, if you could pick a first person to see, Pixie would be that lady) so I got a hug from her then booked in by Helen Hopley and Jenny Barber.  We had a pick of free books for our goody bags (one fabric which the huge, hardback souvenir programme book came in, the other canvas and empty) and then moved up to the dealer room.  Again (and this is a theme which will repeat), it was huge - far bigger than any dealer room I’ve ever experienced.  I saw people I knew - in person or from Facebook - and we didn’t make it far into the room before we decided to go back and stash the heavy book load.

When we got back, we got a drink from the very busy bar and stood out in the corridor where we saw Simon Bestwick & Cate Gardner (and that’s always a treat) and John Travis, who we stood talking too.  Then - time whizzing by at this point - we went up to Lynda E. Rucker’s book launch, a collection through Karoshi Books (the imprint run by my friends Johnny Mains - absent from the con, sadly - and Peter Mark May), which was held in Signing Alley.  I’ve chatted with Lynda over Facebook and it was nice to finally meet her and she was standing beside two older people.  At one point, she went to say hello to someone else and, gesturing towards her guests, I expected her to say “These are my parents” or some such.  What she actually said was “This is Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem”.  I was so astounded, I didn’t know what to say.  I do remember shaking Steve’s hand and saying what an honour it was to meet him, then doing the same to Melanie, but I can only apologise to those fine folks for the rest of the gibberish I spouted.  It was the Rasnic Tems!  I was talking to them, just me and Sue.  Wow - fanboy moment number one.

Eventually, with Pete May in tow, we left them and got in the lift to head down to meet our dinner companions and then realised a truth that dawned on everyone else over the weekend - regardless of what they said, the lifts didn’t all go to the same place.  We got into one, joined by an American chap and pressed G to get to the lobby.  In fact, that let us off into a huge, deserted ballroom which had tables and chairs stacked at random places and strange noises tapping the walls.  After a brief investigation, we headed back for the lifts and saw that the second one was coming.  It opened and inside were the Rasnic Tems, so we told them to stay put, joined them in the lift and tried the LG button.  That worked, but brought us out into the registration area which was technically the first floor.  We assisted the Rasnic Tems up the stairs, then went down to the lobby to meet Jay Eales & Selina Lock, who we’d arranged to have dinner with.  Rather than wander aimlessly (as we did last year), Jay had booked us all into the Chilli Pickle - with three members of their writing group (Lucy, Phil and James), Richard Farren Barber and Steve Upham.  Nice walk, new people to meet, good conversation and a great meal.

We headed back to the hotel and set up in the bar, chatting with each other.  Looking around, it was surprising to see the sheer volume of people (Helen told us later that 1,500 people were expected for the weekend and I can well believe it).  I caught up with KT Davies, Lisa Jenkins and Neil Buchanan and then saw, standing across the bar, a tall broad man who was looking at me.  He nodded, I went over and James A. Moore, a man and writer I greatly admire, shook my proffered hand and then pulled me into a hug.  I told him how much of an honour it was to meet him and he waved it off, saying the same thing to me and we chatted for a while and said we would meet up again later, once the madness had calmed down (except it never did).

By then time was getting on and a walk in the high winds beckoned (I didn’t like not being in the Con hotel), so we called it a night and headed back to the Travelodge where my room overlooked the Revolution nightclub.  The double glazing helped.  A little.

Friday 1st November
Sue & I arranged to meet in the corridor at 8.30 (we were both on the 7th floor) and as we waited for the lift, the door next to Sue’s room opened and out stepped Ian Whates and his lovely partner Helen.  After introductions, we went down to the restaurant together and had breakfast, chatting and catching up - it turns out, Sue and Ian had a mutual friend.  Ian also graciously allowed us to store our coats behind the NewCon Press stand (it was a rainy day), which was very nice of him.  On the way to get our bags, as we stepped out of the lift we bumped into Jay & Selina - the 7th floor was clearly popular with writers!

We dodged the rain and got to the hotel and made our way to the Joanne Harris Guest Of Honour (GoH) interview in the Oxford Suite (it was a longer journey than I’d expected, since we kept stopping to say hello to people), which Sue had told me was huge - her son had his graduation ceremony in there.  And she wasn’t kidding - it was the size of a football field.  Muriel Gray was the interviewer and the two of them had a great rapport, resulting in an interesting, funny and enlightening fifty minutes.  Sue decided to stay on for the Neil Gaiman interview whilst I decided to hit the dealer room though, as it turned out, I didn’t get much browsing done.

I’d decided to take a copy of “Anatomy of Death” (it’s really very good, you should buy a copy) to get everyone to sign it (I managed it, over the weekend, with the exception of the absent Johnny) and bumped into Stephen Volk as we both headed into the dealer room.  After chatting for a while, we were joined by Charles Prepolec - another Facebook friend I was meeting for the first time - and then we were joined by Paul Finch, El G Grande himself (Gardner Goldsmith) and Phil Ambler.  Fanboy time again!  I didn’t want to leave but it was time for the Joe Hill GoH interview, so I made my apologies and headed back to the Oxford Suite (where Sue had thankfully saved me a seat and I was sitting next to James Bennett - another Facebook friend first meeting).  Sarah Pinborough, the intended interviewer, was indisposed but Gillian Redfearn stepped into the breach and it was another brilliant 50 minutes.  Having read Stephen King through the 80s and 90s - and been a big fan of his notes and afterwords - it was nice to hear the boy from them talking about his books and his thoughts on horror and it has to be said, Joe Hill is a terrific interviewee.  Brilliant fun.

l to r - Stephen Volk, El G Grande (Gard Goldsmith), Paul Finch, me

Sue & I ventured out for lunch and saw Dean M. Drinkel just outside the hotel, so we stopped to chat with him (which is always a pleasure).  As we were talking, a lady walked by, looked at us and then leaned in and introduced herself - Cat Hellisen.  She & I have been online friends for a long time, before Dude was born certainly, starting on Live Journal and then re-connecting on Facebook but it was the first time we’d met.  We shook hands and promised to catch up later, said goodbye to Dean and had lunch at Costa Coffee.  An hour or so later we were back to the Con.  We got waylaid several times on the way up to the dealer room (and I had a quick word with James Barclay too) and I saw Stuart Young and Gavin Willams in passing (there was a lot of ‘in passing’, but more on that later), had a quick look (but ended up chatting - Sue advised me that if we were going anywhere in a hurry in future, we’d go separately) and went into the Oxford Suite for the Sir Terry Pratchett GoH interview.  I’ve read him - mostly due to my friend Nick badgering me (and another friend, David, is a massive fan) - and wanted to see him but I don’t know that it was an altogether good thing as there was a slight tinge of the voyeuristic for me.

Having seen Danie Ware in the dealers room, I went to the launch of her new book “Ecko Burning” and after chatting with folk, went back to the Oxford Suite (and met up again with Sue) for the Tanith Lee Lifetime Achievement Award interview, with Ian Whates asking the questions.  That was great, she’s a very prolific and witty lady and Ian is always good fun, a widely read and knowledgeable man.

At Pizza 7 - me, Sue, Emily Hallewell, Steven Chapman, Phil Ambler

We’d arranged to go for dinner with Phil Ambler, so met him at the main bar and he’d met up with Steven Chapman (another Facebook friend first meeting) and his girlfriend Emily Hallewell, so they came along too.  We found a little pizzeria in the Lanes, with a wood burning oven and spent a lovely couple of hours there, catching up and talking about genre and listening to the rain pounding on the glass roof.  By the time we headed back for the hotel it was lashing down, so the girls shared a brolly whilst Steven & I braved the precipitation (though I think Steven’s jacket protects him from most things).

It was the mass signing that night and even though none of us had particularly bought much yet, we went up anyway, got ourselves a drink and stood chatting in the corner, soon joined by Stuart Young.  Simon Kurt Unsworth strolled by and came over and we caught up on family life and then I congratulated him on his recent, very good book deal.  It was good to talk to him and it’s nice to see things settling down and coming up nicely for him.

Neil Bond, a friend from the writing group, came over and said “Look at this!” and pulled his t-shirt up.  During Joe Hill’s interview, he’d mentioned writing the wrong name in a dedication (“to Christopher”) and the perils of late-night shopping for new parents (“lunchmeat…”) and when Neil saw him sitting on his own, he went up, explained he didn’t have a book but presented his belly.  So Joe wrote “To Christopher - lunchmeat!  Joe Hill” on Neil.  Brilliant.

l to r - Steven Chapman, Neil Bond and his graffiti autograph from Joe Hill, me and Ruth Booth

I went to the loo and met Martin Roberts in there and we had a chat - he’s stepping down from BFS duties with this Con but he’s going to be running the film show next year at York, which is guaranteed to be a good time (it was Martin who sourced the “Later” short film that I loved and wrote about).

Sue & I decided to have a wander and whilst she chatted with Joanne Harris (who she’d corresponded with before, through her Romantic Novel Association connections), I finally - after about thirteen years - plucked up the courage to speak to Michael Marshall Smith.  He was on his own, I was waiting for Sue, I took my chance.  I shook his hand and told him it was an honour to meet him and that my favourite short story of all time is his classic “Later”.  I then explained about the short film, which I blogged about (you can read my review here, if you're so inclined) and he'd retweeted and we talked easily - when I explained that I first saw him in 2000 and hadn’t dared speak to him before this, he said “you should have done!”  He was so easy to chat to and friendly, I really should have.  But at least I’ve done it now - another fanboy moment!

We lapped the signing room, chatted with Peter Coleborn and then headed back to the Travelodge, braving the elements (as did the loud ladies and gents in Revolution).

Saturday 2nd November
Over breakfast (Ian came down and said he couldn’t join us as he had an early start and Helen was indisposed…), we plotted out the day which promised to be packed.

We got to the hotel in plenty of time, so we could chat to people we met and went into the Oxford Suite for the Richard Matheson video.  Mr Matheson was originally going to be the grand GoH but unfortunately passed away about four months ago, whilst his son RC (Richard Christian) was also a GoH.  Before Richard’s death, he and RC had filmed interviews running to several hours in length and a half hour segment was being shown in his honour.  For some reason, Sue had decided to sit three rows back in the aisle but we ended up sitting right behind RC and his wife.  The interview ran and, I have to say, I don’t think there were many dry eyes in the house - it was moving, funny, astonishing, full of history and love and creativity and a perfectly fitting memorial for a great writer and, by all accounts, a great man.  I didn’t get a chance to compliment RC on it, but we did speak to his wife.

It was back in the dealers room then (and coats off - the rest of the hotel was warm, but the Oxford Suite and Hall 4 upstairs both seemed to have their air con blowing full) and by chance bumped into Stephen Bacon, who was chatting with Stuart Young and Dai Price.  Steve & I had arranged to meet anyway but I’d turned off my phone in the video and so missed his text.  We had a quick wander, then decided to head back to the Travelodge (where Steve was also staying, though he couldn’t yet book in) so that he could stash his goody bags in my room.  It was great to see him again (we’re in regular contact by Facebook and email and he’s my partner-in-crime on the Lost Film and “ill at ease” projects but this was only the third time we’d met face-to-face).  Thankfully he and Sue got on very well, so the three of us were quickly chatting and enjoying each others company.

We went back to the Con for the Brian Aldiss GoH interview, conducted by Stephen Baxter, which was great fun.  Sue’s brother is a big fan of the man, so took some satisfaction in texting him to say ‘guess who I’m in a room with…?’  I also saw Martyn Taylor in the hall and managed to grab a few minutes with him, which was nice.  The interview, as they all do, whisked by too fast and we went up to Signing Alley for the NewCon Press launch where Mihai Adascalitei came over to introduce himself.  Mihai is a reviewer and book blogger from Romania and he’s been very supportive of my work in the past - plus he’s a great laugh on Facebook - and it was good to finally meet him.  After that, I bumped into Ren Warom (who I shared space with in the “Urban Occult” anthology) and Anne-Mhairi Simpson, Facebook and Twitter friends I was meeting for the first time and it was great to talk to them.  The Rasnic Tems were also there and, since I was stupidly too shy to approach them again, Sue went and got me an autograph.  Lovely.  Even better, on the way out, Paul Meloy collared me and we had a lovely catch-up.

Then it was lunchtime and Steve wanted to see the Lanes so Sue led us through them and we walked into town and ended up at Costa Coffee on West Street.  As we ate and drank, the rain lashed down - it was so heavy, it looked like a film effect - so we hung around until it was done and then went into the shopping centre so I could buy a gift for Dude.

Back to the Con, we headed to the reading rooms - Sue knows Heather Graham as a romance author - and on the long corridor to registration (with the big mirror at the end that threw everyone the first time they encountered the “person who looked just like them coming towards them”), I saw Pete Atkins coming towards us.  I met Pete briefly in 2011 (at FantasyCon, as I did the book trailer for his “Rumours Of The Marvellous” collection from Alchemy Press - you can read my blog post on it here) but didn’t expect him to remember me and contented myself with a smile as I walked past.  Instead, he looked at me, then looked at my badge, then held his hand out and said “Mark!”  I was bowled over, I shook his hand and said how good it was to meet him again and he said we would chat later and then he was gone.  I was bowled over - yet another fanboy moment.

We carried on to the reading, which was entertaining though Steve & I left early so that we could bag seats at the RC Matheson GoH interview, being conducted by the brilliant Pete Atkins - Sue joined us later, after chatting with Heather.

Sitting along from us was Nicholas Burman-Vince, who was not only a Cenobite but a member of Clive Barker’s circle from the 80s and a friend of Pete Atkins - he was also in the Dean M. Drinkel edited anthology “The Demonologica Biblica” with me.  I introduced myself, thanked him for the demonology papers he sent me and we chatted about our writing, before the session started.

The interview was probably the one I enjoyed most of the Con.  RC is a witty raconteur, with a great voice and delivery and he was responsible for the terrific short story “Vampire” (in Dennis Etchison’s anthology “Cutting Edge” which, along with Clive Barker’s “Books Of Blood”, changed the way I looked at horror).  Pete Atkins is a genial host and he and RC had great chemistry and it made for a fun 45 minutes or so.  When they opened the floor to questions, I raised my hand and - another fanboy moment - Pete pointed to me and said “Yes Mark”.  I asked how it felt to be part of the movement that had such an effect on horror in the late eighties, Pete thanked me for the question and I got to hear RC talk about splatterpunk and this whole period that means so much to me.  El G asked a question, which was another good one and then, with no more questions, I put my hand up again - earning an eyebrow raise from Pete - and I got to thank RC for the video interview.  He nodded to me, thanked me and I felt ten feet tall!

Sue went off to read in the bar (and ended up chatting with Brian Aldiss), Steve went to a kaffeeklatch with Ellen Datlow and I headed for the “Mainstream & Us” panel (my first of the con).  As I went up the stairs, Graham Joyce was coming down and he saw me, held out his hand and said “Hello mate!” and we had a chat about things - he looks good, all things considered - and I told him how much “The Year Of The Ladybird” meant to me.

The panel was…  Well, it happened.  Jay & Selina came in and sat with me, I lasted the 45 minutes and then I left.

I went back to registration, chatted with Richard Barber and David A. Riley and it occurred to me (helped by the previous 45 minutes of thinking time) that if there was a problem with the Con (and I think you’d be hard pushed to find another), it was that it was too big.  Sometimes you got caught in a stream of people, moving from one place to the next and there wasn’t really the room to stop if you saw someone going the other way.  I was okay, generally, since I was knocking about with Sue but I did see a lot of my friends on their own for a lot of time, looking for other folk but since it was so big and there were so many people, you’d see someone one day, say “I’ll catch you later” and then not see them again for 24 hours.

Sue, me and Steve Bacon at Steak On Sea

Steve came back, excited about his gathering and we went to find Sue and headed out for the Steak place along the front.  Another lovely meal, great conversation and 90 minutes slipped away like five.  All too soon, Sue shooed us away (though we did leave money) as the till was broken and they couldn’t print the bill.  Steve & I, walking tilted into the gale-force wind, headed back to the Con for the Peter Cushing panel, moderated by Stephen Volk.  Basically, the panel consisted of the speakers - Anne Billson, Nancy Kilpatrick, Uwe Sommerlad, John Llewellyn Probert and Kim Newman - discussing their favourite Cushing movies and TV shows, his impact on culture and the man himself.  It was wonderful.

me, Simon Marshall-Jones, Lizzie Marshall-Jones, Steve Bacon, after the Peter Cushing panel

Cat Hellisen and me

We headed back to the ‘secret bar’ then, where a party was in full swing and after chatting with Simon Clark, we found Sue sitting with Jay & Selina.  There were a lot of people in there and it was very noisy, but we stayed put and I’m so glad we did.  Dean came through and Lisa Jenkins called me over for a photo, then Lisa & I stood chatting with Dai Price and then Cat Hellisen came through to use the ladies loo (which I happened to be standing in front of).  As she came out, we had a chat and I went towards the back of the room to get a picture with her and I saw Joan De La Haye and Gavin Williams, so sat and chatted with them, Vinny Chong and Chris Roberts and by the time I got back to our table, Jay & Selina had called it a night!  I saw Jon Oliver, had a chat with him, then Sue decided to call it a night, so me, Steve, Chris Teague, Steve Upham and Dai Price were chatting when I saw James A. Moore across the room.  He was in a tux (his agent took his clients out for dinner) and looked really dapper and he nodded at me.  I got up, grabbed Steve to get a picture of us and got another hug from James.  I introduced Steve and we were talking about books and writing and James asked what I was working on, I explained about the never beginning novel pitch and he put his arm on my shoulder and looked at me and said “sometimes people need a kick up the ass”.  Yes, I said, we need someone to push us.  “Okay,” said my hero, “you’ve got a month.  If you haven’t written the pitch in one month, I’m coming for you.”  I smiled, he held his Tony Soprano expression.  He patted my back, winked at me and walked away, saying “one month!”  Brilliant.

Steve Bacon, James A. Moore, me

Neil was in there too with Donna, his wife (a fellow member of the writing group and a terrific comedian) and I asked if he still had his autograph.  It turns out that last night he got a Dalek from Neil Gaiman and a very low-slung message from Kim Lakin-Smith, the pictures of which he gleefully showed me (I suggested to Donna that the picture I was looking at - Neil, on the bed, his face covered by a pillow as he showed off most of his torso - resembled a ‘readers husband’ image…).

The secret bar closed at midnight so, in order to get space in the bigger bar, Steve & I headed out but didn’t get far.  “Is that Mark West?”  I heard and turned to see Michael Kelly, editor and writer extraordinaire, making his way over to us.  A brilliantly funny bloke and someone I respect a great deal, we had a great chat and he said he was learning some Brit-speak (he'd spotted a word on the sea wall), so he called Steve a ‘tosser’ and then asked what it meant.  When we told him (Steve said “it’s not really very nice”) I said that it was very often used as a term of endearment, though we suggested its use should be limited!

As we walked through the restaurant, Pete Atkins was sitting with friends and saw me walk by.  I went to thank him for the great interview, he thanked me for reminding him of the Splatterpunks tangent - yet another Pete Atkins based fanboy moment.

Steve Bacon, me, Stuart Young, Simon Bestwick, Cate Gardner

The main bar was heaving so we stood just outside it and had a little Terror Scribes gathering - me, Steve, Stuart Young (I finally got to spend time with him), Dai Price, Ben Baldwin, Simon Bestwick, Cate Gardner, John Travis, El G (briefly), Lisa Jenkins and Gavin Williams.  James A. Moore passed at one point, saw me and leaned in - “One month!” - and carried on his way.  I had a brilliant time, with some great conversations and Steve & I finally drifted away at 2.30 (we went through the main bar, which meant it took us longer than expected).  It wasn’t raining but as we walked back to the Travelodge, braving the gale force winds that froze us in our coats and trousers, we watched barefoot girls in small party dresses walk the other way.  Maybe it was the wind, maybe I was used to it, but Revolution was quieter tonight though I was buzzing from such a great day that it still took me ages to fall asleep.

Sunday 3rd November
We met in reception at 8.30 and went for breakfast, chatting with Peter Coleborn and Jan Edwards and Ian Whates came over to assure us that Helen was “up and about”.  The three of us talked for ages, then Steve & I went to the Con to attend the “California Sorcery” panel, hosted by Pete Atkins, with RC Matheson, William F. Nolan (he wrote “Logan’s Run”! - another fanboy moment), Nancy Holder, Terence McVicker and Tad Williams (who was still on DST from the US and was very late and very apologetic).  It was great to hear the stories and astonishing that a group of friends could produce such fantastic quality work that would change the genre forever, creating the bedrock that horror and sci-fi stands on today.  A truly humbling panel, I’m so glad I got to it.

RC Matheson, William F Nolan, Pete Atkins, Nancy Holder, Terence McVicker

(photo by Steve Bacon)

Back to the dealer room (after a quick chat with Steve Jones in the corridor) and it was almost done - people were packing stock up, friends were saying goodbye.  I got Gardner’s book, said goodbye to Chris and Steve, chatted with Simon and Lizzie Marshall-Jones (and picked up the latest two Spectral editions), said goodbye to Helen (Ian was on a panel) and then headed out.  At the registration, I spoke with Paul and Marie, who had some sad news, said goodbye to Jenny Barber and Jan Edwards and then we were off.  Pete Atkins was at the bottom of the stairs so he said a rousing goodbye and gave me a hearty handshake, then I introduced him to Sue and Steve.  We left him and bumped into James A. Moore, who gave me a huge hug and said how pleased he was we’d met (“one month!”), then said goodbye to Steve and I introduced him to Sue (“good to meet you, ma’am”) and then we were out.  Well, we saw and said goodbye to Neil Buchanan, got back to the hotel and said goodbye to Graeme Reynolds and Stuart Young and then we went into the Lanes for lunch in ‘That Teashop in the Lanes’, which was very nice.  After another drink in the Costa in the centre, we said goodbye to Steve with hugs (it’d been great hanging around with him) and Sue & I headed for the train.

And talked, all the way home, about books and writing and our plans for the future.


Alison & Dude met me at the station - he came racing along and jumped into my arms - then Sue & I said goodbye and we went home, with me bursting with stories and Dude wanting to tell me everything that’d happened to him.  So I listened to his tales and loved the welcome home banner he & Alison had made and then I talked her ear off when he’d gone to bed.

World Fantasy Con 2013 - you were great.  Writing this blog has helped maintain the fun and beat away the post-con blues, though it's missing a lot of names, of people I saw and said a quick hello to but if I did name everyone, it'd be in about ten parts!  Trust me, the Con was full of great people.

Congratulations to all of the team who put it together, it was truly brilliant and now I’m going to convert this Con buzz into some writing, or James A. Moore will come looking for me...

FantasyCon 2014 tickets have already been purchased…

Ten Past Three - a real life ghost story

I am 44 years old, which is certainly old enough to know better and in keeping with people my age, I’ve lost relatives who, given the option, I’m sure would have come back to check up on me from time to time (thereby, effectively, haunting me). I also have an eight year old son who occasionally has bad dreams that lead to me reassuring him with the phrase, “there’s nothing there.”

Really?

I love ghost stories and have done since I was a kid. To me, there wasn’t much better – apart from eating Space Dust whilst I watched a girl called Amanda play at lunchtime – when I was nine or ten than losing myself in a Three Investigator book, or a Peter Haining or Mary Danby collection. I formed ghost hunting groups with friends (one day, I might tell you about the ghost at Blue Bridge, who was said to be Old Nick himself), I read as much as I could and I scared myself silly with real-life ghost books from the library. Happy days.

I have had three brushes with what I think are perhaps most accurately described as unidentified phenomena. One was with my childhood friend Nick and he still talks about the incident, over thirty years later. Two were with my friend Craig – one was an unidentified flying object, one was about ghosts.

In 1989, he & I went on holiday to Portugal. He worked for a travel company, we got a reduced rate, we had a great time. Our hotel was a lovely place, run by a bear of an Englishman, with local staff. Beyond the restaurant/club house, there was a patio area, then two blocks of apartments – we were on the ground floor of the first, facing back towards the house. We got on well with fellow guests, there was a good atmosphere in general, it was a cracking holiday.

Towards the end of the week, after having sworn off drink for a few days (we were twenty and didn’t realise that the shots were doubles), we’d had a meal and enjoyed the evening in the club and gone back to our room. It wasn’t a big room – through the front door, the bathroom opened off the hall, then the main room had twin beds, patio doors (which faced out towards the main house) and built in wardrobes across from them (against the back of the bathroom wall). I slept in the bed nearest the wardrobes, Craig had the bed by the window.

On this particular night, nothing spectacular had happened. We chatted for a while, then went to sleep.

I woke up and knew it was the middle of the night, though it wasn’t particularly dark (we tended to keep the curtains open). As my eyes got accustomed to the light, I was very surprised to see someone crouching down beside the bed, staring at me. My over-riding memory of it now is that it looked like one of the guards out of the “Flash Gordon” film – a monks habit, with the hood drawn up and some kind of gas mask/breathing apparatus obscuring the face. I don’t remember reacting to this interloper, but watched as he stood up and walked carefully around my bed and along the back wall. As the thing reached the end of Craig’s bed (with me now up on one elbow, watching it go), Craig sat bolt upright in bed (and that startled me more than my ghost had).

“What time is it?”

I fumbled for my watch. “Ten past three.”

“Okay,” he said and laid back down. I couldn’t see my ghost any more, so I too laid down and went back to sleep.

The next morning, he was up bright and early and went to reception to make a call. When he got back, he explained that he’d wanted to ring his parents, as he was really worried. I asked why. He explained that he’d woken up that night to see two people sitting on the end of his bed, watching him. His first thought was that it must be his parents, checking that he was okay, but when he rang home, they were fine and healthy.

As we sat there, on our beds in the early morning Portugese sunshine, I told him about the thing that I’d seen. As we talked, it came to me that maybe my ghost had been moving slowly because he was threading his way between things I couldn’t see, perhaps guests at a party. Guests that might, conceivably, be sitting at the end of Craig’s bed saying “look at that, a ghost person in bed.”

Completely stumped as to what was going on, but convinced the party angle was the one to go for, we trooped off to reception (I don’t know that we expected to find out a party had been going on years before, until a fire broke out and killed everyone, but it would have been a start). The girl behind the counter was very nice, we’d spoken in the past and even tried to learn a few words of Portugese with her. Haltingly, we explained ourselves.

“We were just wondering if there’d been a party in our room.” We gave our room number and she went to check the pigeon hole and came back with our passports. “No, we’re in there, we just wondered if there’d been a party in there before.”

She looked at us and frowned. So we told her the story. About halfway through, she started to hyperventilate. Towards the end, she looked genuinely upset. When we got to the time part, she was very agitated. So much so that she went to get the manager’s wife (a fearsome, if friendly, lady – when I got sunstroke just after arriving, she made sure that I got grilled chicken for dinner to help me, even though it wasn’t on the menu). We re-told our story, conscious of the poor receptionist who was, by now, sitting in the backroom being comforted by her colleagues.

The manager’s wife listened to our story, looking at us to make sure we weren’t pulling her leg. She tried the obvious – were monks on my mind, there was a brand of drink that had as its logo a man in a cape, all manner of stuff – and realised that our story wasn’t going to change. She took us to one side and said, “If you promise not to mention this again, whilst you’re here, you can have free meals for the rest of your stay.”

Did my years of wanting to be a ghost-hunter kick in? Was my drive to discover the paranormal world enough that I would refuse? No, I’m now ashamed to admit that Craig & I thought with our bellies and went for the free meal option.

So, story ended right? We saw something we couldn’t explain, we freaked out a receptionist (who might have been prone to over-react, who knows?) and we were then offered hush money. I’d love to report that we experienced more phenomena but we didn’t – I was wary about being in the room on my own for the duration of our stay, but neither of us ever saw anything untoward in that room again.

It was all finished, except for something we overhead that night at dinner. Sharing our floor in the block were ex-employees of BOAC. Friendly, chatty and very funny, we got on well with them (bearing in mind they were perhaps fifty years older than us) and our little table was next to the large one they occupied.

Obviously, part of our deal was to tell no-one and we adhered to that. So imagine our surprise when the BOAC table started to talk about their previous night. Every one of them had woken up – either from hearing something or through a bad dream – and all of them were tired. We couldn’t resist and leaned back.

“What time was this then?” we asked.

There was general murmuring from the table, as people thought back about it.

So what time did five or six couples – a total of seven separate rooms – all wake up, on the same night, when nothing untoward was happening?

“Ten past three,” they said.


(this originally appeared on the Beyond Fiction website)

Brighton bound (soon)

It's that time of the year again, when the great and the good (and the rest of us) of the horror (and fantasy & sci-fi) genre gather in Brighton for a long weekend of laughing, talking, buying books and catching up with friends old and new.

This year, FantasyCon has been subsumed into the World Fantasy Convention, one I've never actually attended before.  As much as I look forward to FCon every year (I already have my ticket for 2014, which is being held in York), on this occasion I'm going to be like a crazed fanboy as several international writers (some of whom I've corresponded with for years online, others I am in awe of from reading and watching their work) will be in attendance.

No ROADTRIP!!! with Jay & Selina this year unfortunately (though I'll see them there and Jay has already organised the first night curry trip), instead I am going down by train with my old friend Sue Moorcroft.  She's not a horror writer but she's endured enough with me over the years to know what she's letting herself in for and, as a writing tutor, she's looking forward to the weekend as (as she puts it) 'a tourist'.  In case you're not aware of her or her terrific work, this link will take you to a lengthy interview I conducted with her earlier this year.

The convention programme is packed and varied - I can see myself flitting around the hotel like a fly, missing as many things as I actually manage to get to - but I have friends launching books and appearing on panels (which I will get to) and I'm also involved in the Spectral Press gathering (though I'm not sure what day that's on).

It's going to be a great weekend and I'm really looking forward to it - if you see me, say hello!  As for the blog, I'll post a full report when I get back.

INXS Get Out Of The House tour 1993 (20 years on)

In 1993, INXS were caught in a bit of a bind.  In the late 80s, with a succession of high selling albums that culminated in 1987’s KICK (which I wrote about here), they were one of the biggest bands in the world with a great live reputation to enhance their studio sound.  After taking a long break (they toured KICK for 18 months), they released X in 1990 and sold out Wembley Stadium with Summer XS in support of it (a gig I’m happy to say I attended and wrote about here), then followed that up with Welcome To Wherever You Are in 1992.  For me, that’s one of my favourite albums of theirs but as edgy and experimental as it might have been, they didn’t support it.  Mark Opitz, the producer, has said in interview “they didn’t tour on it, which they should have done because they could have had amazing sets…U2 released Achtung Baby and toured the fuck out of that. At that stage U2 and INXS were pretty much neck and neck, but when X came out it was like a dive. They didn’t tour on Welcome to Wherever You Are, which is sad, but it did go number one in England and [many] different European countries. We were all quite happy about that.”

By the time Full Moon Dirty Hearts came around, in 1993, it was clear that something was wrong.  The music still sounded great, the musicianship was still excellent but there were a lot of disconnects and reading the biography of the band, there were a lot of issues with Hutchence at the time.  Worse - to me (and being charitable, it’s not their worst album but it’s certainly down in the deeps) - they suddenly seemed to be swayed by public opinion, going for a terrible grunge-like cover (the lot of them, sat in the back of a transit) and apparently forgetting that INXS were good because they were INXS and not trying to be anyone else.

Opitz again: “Nirvana had hit big of course, and a couple members of the band said, “Let’s put all the rock songs up front. We’ve got to be more like Nirvana.” And I’m saying, “No, you’ve got to be more like INXS.” But management decided to go against my wishes with the running order and turned it into this quasi-album where songs didn’t fit with each other. Which I thought was quite sad.”

Caught up in a decline - but still a great live act - they made the decision for a worldwide tour in 1993 and it surprised a lot of people.  From massive stadia (not least the 74,000 sell-out audience at Wembley in 1991), they decided to go small.  Very small.  The Get Out Of The House tour was a back-to-basics affair, stripping everything down and benefitting greatly from a marketing campaign that played on it being a return to the ‘pub tours’ of old.  The idea was for INXS to take their music to the fans, playing gigs in towns they’d never played before and in venues that were much smaller than they were used to.

To generate more interest, ads and radio announcements were made stating only the city and date of each gig, with no mention of the venue.  Two weeks before the tour, tickets were put on sale at the local HMV (in whichever city) with the shop opening at 8.30am and selling tickets on a first-come-first-served basis (with a maximum of two per customer and absolutely no phone booking).  The venue would then be announced on local radio the day before the show.

I was very excited - having loved Summer XS and Welcome to Wherever You Are I was really keen to see them again, especially since my new girlfriend Alison (now my wife) was also a big INXS fan.  This was all long before the Internet, so you had to rely on the music press and when I discovered they were playing in Leicester on July 13th, I knew I had to go.  Since Alison (or our friends Matt and Steve, who also wanted to come) couldn’t get time off work, another friend - Steve, who wasn’t a fan - offered to come with me and we left Kettering at 4am.

We were in Leicester for 4.30am and the city seemed alive with people as we walked from the Haymarket to HMV - street cleaners, old ladies with shopping bags and people our age.  There was a real buzz in the air and I was part of it and it felt great.  When we got to HMV we were the 72nd/73rd people in the queue - some had even camped out for the night - and there was a great atmosphere, as we chatted with the people around us.  The doors opened at 8am and we got our tickets, then went into McDonalds for breakfast as the enterprising manager had promised everyone from the queue a free hot drink if they did so.

To stoke excitement (though there was really no need - the tour sold out 40,000 tickets in a matter of hours), the band auditioned local groups to be their support act by launching a competition with Radio 1.  For the life of me, I can’t remember who supported them at Leicester but what an opportunity it must have been for a band at the time - I wonder if any of them went on and made their way in the world?

I followed progress of the tour in Q magazine and Select as it wound its way through Europe, reading reports of great gigs (with a grungey new sound), stage diving and the close proximity of band to audience.

The tour hit England on July 7th at the Leed Town & Country club and finished 19 gigs later at the Feile Festival in Dublin on July 31st (and apart from the festival, the venues averaged a capacity of 2,000 people).  The set list was liberally spliced with songs that nobody knew - “Days Of Rust”, “The Gift”, “Full Moon, Dirty Hearts”, “Please (You Got That…)” “The Messenger” and “Time” were all from Full Moon Dirty Hearts - but plenty of good stuff from the back catalogue, including stand-out tracks from Welcome To Wherever You Are.

At the time, I subscribed to an INXS fanzine run out of Scotland by Fraser Ingram and he published my first ever gig review.  I haven’t written one since and, if you’ll excuse the fanboy witterings of an excited 24 year old, here’s the meat of mine.

“After making a more soulful album with Welcome To Wherever You Are, INXS have returned to their roots with a tour that takes in not 50,000 seater arenas but 1,500 seater ‘town halls’ which might seem a come down - but not on the evidence presented here.

INXS are famed for the power of their live sets and this gig certainly didn’t disappoint.  The DeMontfort is a small venue but their act didn’t seem to have been toned down much from when I saw them at Wembley two years ago.  Michael Hutchence clambered over every speaker he could and even climbed onto the balcony during “What You Need” to conduct an audience sing-a-long whilst taking photos of the crowd with a girls camera.

The set opened tentatively with “Communication” and two brand new songs, before “The Loved One” raised the roof and from that point on, the audience was eating out of their hands.  “Don’t Change” finished the set and as the band filed off and the crowd held up victory salutes to the departing Aussies, all you could hear were joyous comments from assembled fans who’d been near enough to their idols to smell them.

The band seemed to enjoy themselves immensely - slipping on water, laughing and joking, throwing drum sticks at each other - and Hutchence kept the gig alive between songs with his banter (though a crack about the Oz cricket team being the best got a murmur of disapproval) and the band really gave their fans the best show.”

Not all of the band were as enthusiastic, thinking the tour was too small, but Tim Farriss said in interview; “The shows were enjoyable, inspirational, and motivating, but at the same time I don't feel INXS belonged on the small stage.  The tour…actually worked best in the UK where we played theatres and universities - the UK just got the idea a little better.”

The tour won INXS some rave reviews and that goodwill carried over to the album.  "The Gift" was released as the first single in October 1993 and debuted at number 11, whilst the album hit the UK chart at the start of November and gave the band their second UK album Number One in a row.

I saw INXS with Hutchence once more after this - at the NEC with Alison in 1997 to support Elegantly Wasted - and although that was also a great gig, I still think the DeMontfort was the best one.  We’ve seen them twice since - at the NEC in 2001 with Jon Stevens and at the Southern Sounds festival on Clapham Common with JD Fortune in 2011 - but neither of those were anything special and, more, reflected the idea that the band should definitely have stopped when Hutchence passed away.

But the Get Out Of House tour was special, a glimpse into what they must have been like in the early days before mammoth PA systems and video screens became an everyday part of their touring life.  The show was intense, full of verve and energy and sweat and I’m chuffed that I was able to be a part of it.


The Mark Opitz interview can be found here - http://www.messandnoise.com/icons/4367877

Albert Whitlock and Alfred Hitchcock (more matte paintings) - part two

This is the second part of the blog I posted on Monday (which you can find here), detailing some of the astonishing matte painting work Albert Whitlock produced in the 1960s for Alfred Hitchcock (there're pictures from "The Birds", "Marnie" and "Torn Curtain").

This part takes us through the late 60s and into the early 70s and includes one of my all-time favourite Hitchcock films, "Frenzy".

In case you didn't see the last post, here's a quick catch-up on the genius that was Albert Whitlock (1915 - 1999) who began work as a page at Gaumont Studios in London in 1929, before moving up to build sets.  After training as a sign painter, he worked on Hitchcock’s “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (1934) creating miniatures for it and “The 39 Steps” (1935) and began working as a matte painter during World War II.  Finding work with Disney, he relocated to the US in the early 1950s and stayed with Disney until moving to Universal in 1961, where he headed up the matte department and resumed his close working relationship with Hitchcock.

He created over seventy paintings for “Earthquake” (1974) and won an Academy Award for his work.  He won another Oscar the following year for “The Hindenberg”, in which he re-created the airship and it’s final voyage.  As well as film work, Whitlock is also famous as the matte painter for the original series of “Star Trek” (though, sadly, his work was replaced by CGI replicas in the remastered DVDs).  He retired in 1985.

Topaz (1969)

Approaching the Hacienda.  Can you guess which part is the matte painting?

Answer, virtually all of it!  

The small area, where the car was in the final shot, was the only live element.  An astonishingly good effect. 

A street scene, with building extensions

The tanker, with the completed shot on the right.

Top left - the original live action plate (note the stanchions placed to help line-up the shot)

Bottom left - the blocked out live image - all of the black area would be replaced by the painting.

Frenzy (1972)
This is one of my all-time favourite Hitchcock films (his penultimate, as it turned out) and part of my love for it is that it's set in London, but it's not a place any of us recognise any more.  Now we go to Covent Garden for the stalls and the food and the street artists, but in 1972 it was a fruit & vegetable market that was on its last legs.  Hitchcock's father was a Covent Garden merchant and he wanted to record the area as he remembered it.

The prison (final image)

And how it was made

Top left - the studio set and - Top right - the element used for the live action element

Bottom - Whitlock's incredible painting (note the two guards at the far end)

 Covent Garden by night (film still)

A fantastic image, especially when you consider the perspective Whitlock has captured, simulating the wide-angle distortion that would be needed to film this shot for real.  

The live action element is part of the roadway, which Barry Foster walks across (that was filmed at Pinewood) and some of the trucks.  Everything else is Whitlock’s masterpiece.

So there we have it, I hope it's been enjoyable.  Since Whitlock produced such a vast body of work I imagine there'll be more posts about him in the future and also about Hitchcock too, who used matte paintings extensively in his films.

In the meantime, if you're interested, I've posted previously about matte paintings on this post or also on this post, which is exclusively about "Return Of The Jedi"


with thanks to NZ Pete, for his superby researched and lavishly illustrated blog Matte Shot - a tribute to Golden Era special fx and also to the Whitlock Archives at Galeon.

Anatomy of Death (shameless plug)

I'm going to WFC in Brighton next week and I'll be taking a copy of Anatomy of Death (in five sleazy pieces) with me as several of my co-conspirators (namely Messrs Volk, Bacon, Probert and May) will be there and I'd like them to sign it.

I was lucky enough to feature in the first PentAnth from Hersham Horror Books, Fogbound From Five and had great fun with that so when Pete May asked if I wanted to edit my own, I jumped at the chance.

Free to pick my own theme, I decided to go for one of the ‘phases’ that I have a particular fondness for (as a kid of the 70s and 80s), namely that explosion of ‘sleazy’ horror that ran from the early 1970s.  Think of the films of Hammer, Amicus and Pete Walker or the slim, gory and gruesome paperbacks from NEL, Corgi, Star, Hamlyn, Futura et al and you won’t go far wrong.  It was a time of  sex and violence, of pulpy horror and gratuitous nudity, of demons and monsters and no limit to what the writers would expect you to believe.

To fill out my collection, I decided to aim high first and contacted Stephen Volk.  Perhaps best known for Ghostwatch, Afterlife, The Awakening and Ken Russell’s Gothic, he’s a writer I’m in awe of and his story, an envelope-pusher if ever there was one, was ideal - grim, gruesome but also blackly comic.  A Pete Walker film made in type.

Johnny Mains, a true supporter of 70s horror, presented me with a blackly comic, rude and undeniably gruesome story that would have fitted the heyday of those garish paperbacks to a tee.

Stephen Bacon contributed a quieter tale that tells of the sins of the past coming back to haunt the present, the deliberate pace and atmosphere recalling something Hammer might have produced in the period.

John Llewellyn Probert came onboard with a wonderful Victorian drama, featuring a young lady in distress, something terrible from the Thames and a threat to London.  It cannot be read without picturing Peter Cushing as the lead character.

For my story, I decided to embrace the period.  I read a stash of 70s/80s horror paperbacks and had great fun with London during the 1976 heatwave and a glamour photographer who gets tangled up with a monstrous ‘beast’.  I’m proud to share space with these fine writers and their stories.

I produced the cover art for the first two PentAnths (co-designing the first with Neil Williams) and we went through many iterations on this project (my teaser, blogged about here, got a lot of good feedback though unfortunately we couldn’t track the rights through Robert Hale).  In the end, we decided on a simple graphic and I think it works well.

I've had great fun doing this.  It was a real pleasure dealing with writers I admired, I loved writing my story and I've had a great relationship with Peter Mark May during the process.  I’m not sure I’d like to edit again but it’s been an experience and I hope the finished product does what it’s supposed to do - thrill, sicken, terrify and entertain!

If you're intrigued, the book is available from the following sources:

Amazon UK - print and Kindle  /  Amazon US - print and Kindle

Support the small press!

If you do decide to take a chance on the anthology - and I hope you will - reviews are always great to receive and the book has its own Goodreads page here.

Here's a sample of some of the reviews it's already received:

Anthony Watson, at Dark Musings - "Anatomy of Murder is fine addition to the Hersham back catalogue. Horror is indeed a broad church as Mark says in his introduction. Tastes may change, the genre will evolve (as it has to) but at the end of the day you can’t beat a bit of pulp."

Walt Hicks, at Hellbound Times - "Anatomy of Death is a ruthless, doleful (and yet often playfully satirical) paean to those glorious days of the 70’s and 80’s when horror was campy, bloody, violent, gory and gratuitously sexual.  The selections are certainly well-written, provocative and extremely diverse, which may be problematic to some: the Mains and Volk stories are brutally graphic; Bacon and Probert wield a slightly less gory scalpel, while West's tale occupies more of a middle ground.  Readers may find this wide range of styles and intensity slightly jarring, but then again, that's what horror is supposed to do. The easily unsettled or offended will probably want to go elsewhere, because this ain’t no ‘quiet’ horror anthology."

Mattew Fryer, at Welcome To The Hellforge - "I really enjoyed Anatomy of Death; in fact I demolished it in one sitting. “Just one more, then I’ll get up and do stuff…” was the repeated cry, but this slim, well-ordered volume had other plans. It’s deftly edited, the genre tropes are handled with affection, and there’s plenty of variation despite the specific theme. The stories shine with the quirks and particular strengths of each author, and if you’re not familiar, you could do worse than getting acquainted here."

Paul Holmes, at The Eloquent Page, - "This collection is a wonderful homage to all the horror it pays tribute to. Sometimes violent, often gory and in-your-face, this can be unforgiving stuff. You can rest assured Anatomy of Death is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I have no doubt that some will consider it politically incorrect or perhaps even potentially offensive. Personally, I think it does quite an impressive job of dancing right up to the boundaries of good taste but never actually crosses the line. I’d recommend this to anyone who enjoys his or her horror unashamedly raw."

Adam Millard, at This Is Horror - "Back in the 1970s, thanks to Hammer, Amicus, NEL, Futura et al, the horror genre evolved into something altogether more exploitative and sleazy. Book covers were filled with lurid and often gory images, and movie posters contained visuals that would give the BBFC dreadful nightmares. The films themselves contained more breasts than scares; it was, for fans of the genre, a truly wonderful and sordid time. With Anatomy of Death: In Five Sleazy Pieces, the essence of that remarkable era is fully restored in the guise of five entirely divergent short stories."

The Shelter, by James Everington

In a new edition of the occasional series, I want to tell you about a book that I've read and loved, which I think adds to the horror genre and that I think you'll enjoy if you're a fan.

In this case - and contrary to other entries in this series - it's a book that was first published in 2011, so I'm coming to it late but I'm glad I have.

It’s a long, drowsy summer at the end of the 1980s, and Alan Dean and three of his friends cross the fields behind their village to look for a rumoured WW2 air raid shelter. Only half believing that it even exists beyond schoolboy gossip, the four boys nevertheless feel an odd tension and unease. 

And when they do find the shelter, and go down inside it, the strange and horrifying events that follow will test their adolescent friendships to breaking point, and affect the rest of their lives...

During the long summer of 1989, thirteen year-old Alan Dean hung around with three friends - Mark, Tom and Duncan.  Mark was a charismatic bully, a bad seed who was used to getting what he wanted and when he suggested the four of them explore an old shelter, they all agreed.  At the same time, a local boy called Martin had gone missing and the newspapers are asking if a killer’s on the loose but once Alan and his friends find the shelter, they experience something strange and horrifying that will change all their lives forever.

I love coming-of-age tales and I love eighties nostalgia and so, as my introduction to the writing of James Everington, this couldn’t have gone much better at all.  Although he’s at the opposite end of the decade to me (in terms of points of reference), he perfectly evokes a long boring summer to the extent that the reader can almost feel the prickly heat and hear the flies buzzing and there’s nothing that knocks this illusion at all.  The characters are well drawn, though Alan - who narrates - is probably the only one most people will identify with - Tom and Duncan are herd animals, not quite smart enough to strike out on their own and instead happy to be the muscle, whilst Mark is almost chilling in his relentness need to be in control, though Everington spotlights his vulnerability well as the story progresses.  The peer pressure too is well evoked, with the other boys being two years old than Alan, so he goes along them with because he’s too scared not to, plus he likes the increased social status their comradeship gives him.

The shelter itself is a superb invention, very real and with a claustrophobic atmosphere that is almost tangible.  When Alan sees what he sees, we’re there on the ladder with him and equally desperate for release.

With an afterword that explains where the story came from, which is interesting in itself, this is an excellent novella.  It has good pace, believable characters, a nice use of location and a sureness in the telling that pulls the reader through.  A wonderful exploration of powerful, quiet horror, this is well worth a read and highly recommended.

Albert Whitlock and Alfred Hitchcock (more matte paintings) - part one

As you might remember (from this post or this post), I'm a big fan of matte paintings, the artform where a painting on glass extends, exaggerates or hides elements to make the image more arresting.  An integral part of cinema since 1907, the artwork produced was often staggering and - a lot of the time - invisible to the eye.  Matte painting is still a key component of film production now, of course, but it's all digital these days which creates a different atmosphere to the old oils on glass technique.

This is part of an ongoing series of posts, where I'm going to blog about various artists and the films they created work for.  "Return Of The Jedi" was the last one, this time I'm going to discuss Albert Whitlock and his long association with Alfred Hitchcock, one of my favourite directors, who made extensive use of matte paintings in most of his films.

Albert Whitlock (1915 - 1999) began work as a page at Gaumont Studios in London in 1929, before moving up to build sets.  After training as a sign painter, he worked on Hitchcock’s “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (1934) creating miniatures for it and “The 39 Steps” (1935) and began working as a matte painter during World War II.  Finding work with Disney, he relocated to the US in the early 1950s and stayed with Disney until moving to Universal in 1961, where he headed up the matte department and resumed his close working relationship with Hitchcock.

He created over seventy paintings for “Earthquake” (1974) and won an Academy Award for his work.  He won another Oscar the following year for “The Hindenberg”, in which he re-created the airship and it’s final voyage.  As well as film work, Whitlock is also famous as the matte painter for the original series of “Star Trek” (though, sadly, his work was replaced by CGI replicas in the remastered DVDs).

He retired in 1985.

Awards
1975 - Oscar for Visual Effects for “Earthquake” (shared with Frank Brendel, Glen Robinson)
1976 - Oscar for Visual Effects for “The Hindenburg” (shared with Glen Robinson)
1985 - Emmy for Visual Effects for “A.D.” shared with Syd Dutton, Mark Whitlock, Bill Taylor, Dennis Glouner, Lynn Ledgerwood


His first film back with Hitchcock was "The Birds" (1963)

Probably the most famous shot of the film, this extensive matte then had seagulls composited onto it.

 Everything above the shoreline (masts, hills, the sky) is a Whitlock painting

Whitlock's view of the bay

 The bleak - and terrifying - final shot

This is the original Whitlock painting, which was produced much lighter than would finally be used.  The blacked out area is for the live action - the car, driving away - and the foreground tree, fence and birds were shot as live elements and later composited into the shot.
This is a great image and is on screen for a long time.


Marnie (1964)

 The only real part of this is the girl, the car and the bit of the car park

The only live action element here is Sean Connery, Tippi Hedren and the small area they are walking on

Torn Curtain (1966)

 Paul Newman, the pavement and the columns to the first 'knuckle' are real

 A superb shot, that just gets better the more you look at it.  On the left, the final image of Paul Newman.  On the right, the only part that was actually shot live.

Another substantial painting, with the image on the left being the live action element.  From the final frame on the right, you can see that the floor pattern was finished, columns added and additional floors at the side.

End of part one

Part two (which you can find here) 
includes 'Frenzy', one of my favourite Hitchcock films

with thanks to NZ Pete, for his superby researched and lavishly illustrated blog Matte Shot - a tribute to Golden Era special fx and also to the Whitlock Archives at Galeon.