![\"End](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/EndofRoad-web830x120.jpg?resize=830%2C120&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\u201cSo,\u201d author John Urbancik said as we drove across Florida from Tallahassee to Land O\u2019 Lakes, \u201clet me see if I understand this correctly.\u201d (That\u2019s how John talks. If you\u2019re writing dialogue for John Urbancik, he would never say something like, \u201cLet me get this straight\u201d or \u201cYou\u2019ve gotta be shitting me.\u201d He would say, \u201cLet me see if I understand this correctly.\u201d)<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re on the second leg,\u201d John continued, \u201cof a book signing tour for <\/span>The Complex<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>Pressure<\/span><\/i>. In the first week of this second leg, you\u2019ve been orphaned by the publisher of one of those books, and you\u2019re waiting to hear the outcome of that. You have also seen three previously scheduled signings unceremoniously cancelled by the venues. A bookstore and a vehicle caught on fire, the radiator in your Jeep blew up, and you are running low on money, hope, and gas—and running even lower on fucks to give.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n I gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead. \u201cCorrect.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAlso, you believe Jesus Gonzalez is sending you dire messages from beyond.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cEither that, or I\u2019m going insane.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, it would hardly be the first time you\u2019ve done that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou are being less than helpful, John.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Grinning, John waved off the comment. \u201cSo, if things are that bad, what are we doing out here on the road?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n I shrugged. \u201cI\u2019m out here for you guys. And for the fans. I mean\u2026between Pic and Jesus, who knows how many more years we\u2019ll have? Hell, just look at the heart attack ratio alone—you, me, Lee, Haringa, all while in our forties. I\u2019m out here to say goodbye, I guess. To let people know it\u2019s been fun, and I appreciate it. I don\u2019t know why you\u2019re out here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m writing a new book. It\u2019s called <\/span>On the Road with Brian Keene<\/span><\/i>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n And he did. John rode with me across five states—–Florida, North and South Carolina, Georgia, and Virginia, and during that time, he wrote a book called On\u00a0the Road with Brian Keene<\/em>—handwritten in a Moleskin notebook, scribbled from the passenger seat of the Jeep and in various hotel rooms along the way. Ask him about it on social media. Publisher inquiries welcome.<\/span><\/p>\n We reached Land O\u2019 Lakes, which is the home of Camelot Books<\/a>. Run by Tony and Kim Duarte, Camelot Books is a titan among horror, science fiction and fantasy booksellers. Most their sales are done online, but they do have a physical store which customers can visit by appointment. If you have money to spend, and you are traveling through Florida, I strongly encourage you to make an appointment to visit because it\u2019s not just a bookstore—it\u2019s a museum dedicated to this genre and the books we all love. The walls are lined with original artwork and paintings from book covers, including the original art for Camelot\u2019s edition of my novel <\/a><\/span>Entombed<\/span><\/i>. (In addition to being a bookseller, Camelot has also published books by myself, Edward Lee, Mary SanGiovanni, Wrath James White, and others). Shelves stand floor to ceiling, overflowing with trade hardcovers and signed limited editions. John and I walked those aisles, gasping in awe at pristine volumes from Arkham House, Gnome Press, Fedogan & Bremer, Cemetery Dance, PS Publishing, Thunderstorm Books, Subterranean Press, Ash Tree Press, Silver Salamander, Dark Harvest, and so many more. We saw books that cost more than we make in a year. We saw books that cost as little as $20. We got to hold books that we have only ever seen online or behind glass. And we spent money on some of them. <\/span><\/p>\n While we were browsing, our friends began to stop by. Edward Lee showed up, looking fit and trim, along with David Barnett, the owner of the legendary Necro Publications<\/a> and a fine author in his own right. Accompanying them was K. Trap Jones, a young author who I had never met before. Jeff Strand and Lynne Hansen arrived soon after, and hugs and handshakes abounded. I sat back, taking it all in and smiling. It felt good to be among friends. I hadn\u2019t seen Lee in over a year, and it had been almost a decade since I\u2019d seen Dave. I had, of course, seen Jeff and Lynne at the start of this tour, but it was always god to see them again. I don\u2019t know that I\u2019ve ever run across a couple that delight me in their togetherness more than Jeff and Lynne do. They just seem so perfect together, and their mutual love and respect is infectious and intoxicating. <\/span><\/p>\n Much like Tom and Michelle<\/span><\/i>, I thought. <\/span>And Jesus and Cathy<\/span><\/i>. <\/span><\/p>\n My smile faltered.<\/span><\/p>\n Careful, Keene,<\/span><\/i> my subconscious warned. <\/span>This is supposed to be a good time. Don\u2019t ruin it for everybody by getting maudlin.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n Oh, yeah?<\/span><\/i> I thought. <\/span>That\u2019s easy for you to say, subconscious. You haven\u2019t lost your partner. Cathy and Michelle did.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n No,<\/span><\/i> my subconscious countered, <\/span>but I do have to live inside your fucking head twenty-four seven, and believe me, pal, that ain\u2019t no picnic. If you\u2019re going to be depressed, have the decency to do it alone. Go out to the Jeep and drink one of those dozen bottles of bourbon that people brought to your signings in Chattanooga and New Orleans and let everybody else have a good time. You\u2019ve been skirting the edge of alcoholism for thirty years now. You might as well grab the bull by the horns and give in. That\u2019s what people want from you. The party guy. The fun guy. The public figure. They don\u2019t want this sad little fucker who misses his friends. That guy sucks. <\/span><\/i>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Shut the fuck up.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n No, you shut the fuck up.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n And then my subconscious and I started punching each other, which happens more than you might think. Mary says it is particularly prone to happening when I am asleep. I don\u2019t know if that\u2019s true or not, because I\u2019m asleep when it happens.<\/span><\/p>\n Kim, perhaps seeing the wrestling match taking place in my expression, wisely suggested that we start signing books, so that\u2019s what we did. Unlike the other book signings I\u2019d done on this tour, the signing at Camelot Books didn\u2019t involve the public. Instead, John, Lee, Jeff, K. Trap Jones and myself signed books for the store, which had pre-sold copies to their customers. We also signed store stock which could later be sold on their website. I inscribed a giant stack of <\/span>Pressure<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Complex<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Chinese Beetle<\/span><\/i>, and others. John signed a stack of his new novel, Stale Reality<\/em>. I\u2019m not sure what Lee, Jeff, and K. signed, because I couldn\u2019t see over the stack of books in front of me. <\/span><\/p>\n When we were done, the group went back to Tony and Kim\u2019s house. They value their privacy, as do I, so I won\u2019t tell you anything about that. Suffice to say, we had a wonderful afternoon full of food and laughter and sunshine, and we talked about a genre that we all love. Tony and Kim were wonderful hosts, and I can\u2019t tell you how grateful I was for everything. I talked with Tony and Kim about <\/span>Hole In The World<\/span><\/i>, a novel I owed them which was unforgivably overdue because I\u2019d had a nervous breakdown while writing it, and yet they were gracious about the delay and understanding. (That was in July. As I write this, <\/span>Hole In The World<\/span><\/i> has four chapters left to be written and should be finished by mid-November). I talked with Dave about an anthology he was putting together for Gerard Houarner\u2019s seminal <\/span>Painfreak<\/span><\/i>. (That was in July. As I write this, the deadline has passed and I hope to get the story finished this weekend). I talked to K. Trap Jones, and got to know him, and was reminded of what it\u2019s like to just be starting out in this business. And I had a heart-to-heart with Lee, as we talked about our missing friends and how we both feel about that and how the days seem to be growing shorter and how there are things we still want to do—need to do—and how we might not have time to do them all. And while Lee and I talked about those things, we watched small lizards darting back and forth across the landscape. Apparently, lizards are to Florida what squirrels are to Pennsylvania.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAlligators, too,\u201d Lee reminded me. \u201cYou know how you have all those deer running around? Down here it\u2019s alligators.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n At sunset, the party broke up and everybody headed home. More hugs and handshakes abounded. Then John and I climbed into my Jeep and hit the road again. Driving through rural Florida, I stopped at a swamp and got out. John followed after me.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat are we doing?\u201d he asked.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI want to see an alligator,\u201d I replied.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve never seen an alligator before?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIn zoos. But I want to see one in the wild. Lee says they\u2019re all around here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLee also hallucinated lizards earlier today.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThey weren\u2019t hallucinations. I saw them, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n John frowned. \u201cHow much did you and Lee drink?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLook,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m not drunk. I just want to see an alligator.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, we can do that from the safety and comfort of your Jeep. Wading out into the swamp isn\u2019t a good idea.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n I stood there at the water\u2019s edge, swatting at mosquitoes and studying the bog. Peat floated atop the dark water. Frogs croaked. Birds chirped. If there was an alligator lurking off the shore, however, I didn\u2019t see it. I snapped some pictures of the swamp. Later, John\u2019s longtime partner Mery told me that there is indeed an alligator in the picture, and that I was nearly on top of it, and if I had taken a few more steps I would have probably seen more of it than I wanted to. I have looked at that picture over and over again in the months that have followed, and I still don\u2019t see an alligator.<\/span><\/p>\n But I do still hear from the other side.<\/span><\/p>\n At the time, I was under the impression that those communications had to do with the bad luck the seemed to bedevil this tour in July. By August, I would discover that they were about something else entirely.<\/span><\/p>\n We\u2019ll get to that point later. There\u2019s no hurry. Time, as they say, is a flat circle.<\/span><\/p>\n But it is also a motherfucker.<\/span><\/p>\n![\"Original](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Camelot1.jpg?resize=261%2C350&ssl=1\")
(Photo Copyright 2016 Brian Keene)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n![\"(Top](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Camelot2.jpg?resize=350%2C261&ssl=1\")
(Photo Copyright 2016 Kim Duarte)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n![\"Brian](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Camelot3.jpg?resize=263%2C350&ssl=1\")
(Photo Copyright 2016 Brian Keene)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n![\"Can](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Camelot4.jpg?resize=261%2C350&ssl=1\")
(Photo Copyright 2016 Brian Keene)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n