Jack Ketchum (1946–2018)
Author of The Girl Next Door
About the Author
Image credit: Georges Seguin
Series
Works by Jack Ketchum
Ich bin nicht Sam 3 copies
D.O.A. II 3 copies
Gone 3 copies
Sheep Meadow Story 3 copies
Horror 101: The Way Forward 2 copies
Meine besten Erzählungen 2 copies
Übler Abschaum 2 copies
Przebudzenie 1 copy
Returns 1 copy
Extras 1 copy
The Holding Cell 1 copy
Amok Jagd 1 copy
Seascape 1 copy
Sie erwacht 1 copy
The Haunt 1 copy
Dust of the Heavens 1 copy
Cold House 1 copy
Associated Works
The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror: Eighth Annual Collection (1995) — Contributor — 329 copies, 6 reviews
The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror: Fourteenth Annual Collection (2001) — Contributor — 257 copies, 2 reviews
Hint Fiction: An Anthology of Stories in 25 Words or Fewer (2010) — Contributor — 147 copies, 26 reviews
Shining in the Dark: Celebrating 20 Years of Lilja's Library (2018) — Contributor — 115 copies, 2 reviews
Psychos: Serial Killers, Depraved Madmen, and the Criminally Insane (2012) — Contributor — 97 copies, 6 reviews
Mister October: An Anthology in Memory of Rick Hautala (Volume 2) (2013) — Contributor — 62 copies, 18 reviews
Graven Images: Fifteen Tales of Dark Magic and Ancient Myth (2000) — Contributor — 57 copies, 1 review
In the Shadow of the Towers: Speculative Fiction in a Post-9/11 World (2015) — Contributor — 41 copies
Mister October: An Anthology in Memory of Rick Hautala (Volumes 1 and 2) (2013) — Contributor — 17 copies, 15 reviews
Butcher Knives and Body Counts: Essays on the Formula, Frights, and Fun of the Slasher Film (2011) — Contributor — 14 copies, 1 review
A Haunting of Horrors, Volume 2: A Twenty-Book eBook Bundle of Horror and the Occult (2014) — Contributor — 10 copies
Piercing the Darkness Anthology: A Charity Anthology for the Children’s Literacy Initiative (2014) — Contributor — 7 copies
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Canonical name
- Ketchum, Jack
- Legal name
- Mayr, Dallas William
- Other names
- Livingston, Jerzy
- Birthdate
- 1946-11-10
- Date of death
- 2018-01-24
- Gender
- male
- Occupations
- actor
teacher
literary agent
author - Awards and honors
- Bram Stoker Award (Short Story ∙ 1994)
Bram Stoker Award (Short Story ∙ 2000)
World Horror Convention Grand Master Award (2011) - Short biography
- Jack Ketchum is the pseudonym for a former actor, teacher, literary agent, lumber salesman, and soda jerk. He is also a former flower child and baby boomer who figures that in 1956 Elvis, dinosaurs and horror probably saved his life. His first novel, OFF SEASON, an updating of the Sawney Beane story, prompted the Village Voice to publicly scold its publisher in print for publishing violent pornography. He has always wondered what they would think of THE GIRL NEXT DOOR. His short story THE BOX won a 1994 Bram Stoker Award from HWA.
- Nationality
- USA
- Birthplace
- Livingston, New Jersey, USA
- Place of death
- New York, New York, USA
- Associated Place (for map)
- USA
Members
Discussions
Jack Ketchum in Thing(amabrarian)s That Go Bump in the Night (December 2011)
Jack Ketchum Type Horror in Thing(amabrarian)s That Go Bump in the Night (September 2007)
Reviews
Patrick is passionately in love with his wife, Sam, and she with him. Their life together sounds as close to ideal as it’s possible to get. He’s a cartoonist who works from their home, while she works as forensic pathologist. He cooks. She’s gorgeous. It’s a match made in heaven. On a typical evening, Sam returns from work a bit too fragrant from working on the corpse of a turkey farmer who had a heart attack just before spreading turkey droppings in his field. So she hops into the show more shower (having already taken one at work, but one isn’t enough for this sort of smell), and Patrick offers to wash her hair. And then he offers to wash everything else. That goes much as one would expect; the sex isn’t just good, it’s great.
But this Bram Stoker Award-nominated novella is about to turn very dark. For when Sam awakens the next morning, she isn’t Sam. She insists she’s Lily, and behaves like a five or six-year-old girl. Patrick has no idea what to do. He takes her to the doctor, and eventually for a brain scan, and she checks out as physically healthy. But Patrick is reluctant to follow through on the doctor’s referral to a psychological therapist, hoping to bring her to herself through his own efforts.
Patrick doesn’t fully appreciate how difficult this will be. The body from whom that young girl’s voice and thoughts are issuing is the body of his beloved wife. The artlessness of a typical child makes it difficult for him to control his sexual impulses; Lily wants him to wash her hair, or to fasten the back of her bathing suit, or even to sleep in his bed when she’s frightened. But he manages. He buys a house full of toys, fixes the unused swingset in the yard, and watches over her when she swims in the river. He even teaches her how to properly pet their old, arthritic cat so that the cat isn’t hurt.
It’s a strange situation, and Patrick’s refusal to take Sam to a therapist is even stranger. It’s not clear what he expects will happen, though he keeps trying to jog her memory. One day, Lily discovers Sam’s clothes and wants to play dress-up. Patrick notices that she chooses Sam’s favorites, and decides to make another attempt to bring her back to herself. What follows from that decision is like a kick to the stomach.
The authors ask that the reader stop there, at the end of the first part of this novella, for at least a few minutes, a few hours, even a few days. Read on to “Who’s Lily?” if you must, they say — your questions might be answered there, but they might not. It’s an odd request to make, perhaps even a little hokey; I did as the authors requested and let half an hour expire before I went on to read the second section, but noted no real difference in my appreciation of the tale as a result. It’s still a shocking take, and there are still no clear-cut rights and wrongs here, no complete solutions. The lingering uncertainty regardless of the passage of time is what makes this story so horrific.
Originally published at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/reviews/im-not-sam/ show less
But this Bram Stoker Award-nominated novella is about to turn very dark. For when Sam awakens the next morning, she isn’t Sam. She insists she’s Lily, and behaves like a five or six-year-old girl. Patrick has no idea what to do. He takes her to the doctor, and eventually for a brain scan, and she checks out as physically healthy. But Patrick is reluctant to follow through on the doctor’s referral to a psychological therapist, hoping to bring her to herself through his own efforts.
Patrick doesn’t fully appreciate how difficult this will be. The body from whom that young girl’s voice and thoughts are issuing is the body of his beloved wife. The artlessness of a typical child makes it difficult for him to control his sexual impulses; Lily wants him to wash her hair, or to fasten the back of her bathing suit, or even to sleep in his bed when she’s frightened. But he manages. He buys a house full of toys, fixes the unused swingset in the yard, and watches over her when she swims in the river. He even teaches her how to properly pet their old, arthritic cat so that the cat isn’t hurt.
It’s a strange situation, and Patrick’s refusal to take Sam to a therapist is even stranger. It’s not clear what he expects will happen, though he keeps trying to jog her memory. One day, Lily discovers Sam’s clothes and wants to play dress-up. Patrick notices that she chooses Sam’s favorites, and decides to make another attempt to bring her back to herself. What follows from that decision is like a kick to the stomach.
The authors ask that the reader stop there, at the end of the first part of this novella, for at least a few minutes, a few hours, even a few days. Read on to “Who’s Lily?” if you must, they say — your questions might be answered there, but they might not. It’s an odd request to make, perhaps even a little hokey; I did as the authors requested and let half an hour expire before I went on to read the second section, but noted no real difference in my appreciation of the tale as a result. It’s still a shocking take, and there are still no clear-cut rights and wrongs here, no complete solutions. The lingering uncertainty regardless of the passage of time is what makes this story so horrific.
Originally published at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/reviews/im-not-sam/ show less
One does not read Jack Ketchum to be entertained. So why would someone pick up a Ketchum book? I haven't a fucking clue. Like the late, great Richard Laymon, Jack Ketchum is a diabolical motherfucker. He knows how to make skin crawl and stomachs turn. Each one of his books is the literary equivalent of a snuff film. They're real. They're in your face. They're sick and completely immoral. And I can't stop reading them. I don't know what that says about me and other Ketchum fans, but it's the show more truth.
While not as emotionally unsettling as either THE LOST or THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, OFF SEASON is still par for the course when it comes to Kill'em All Ketchum. A woman is roasted alive, a little boy is beheaded, a man's penis is bitten off as if the lady is simply snapping into a Slim Jim, and the hero is gunned down by the people tasked with saving the day. This book doesn't piss in your corn flakes, it shits in your hair and rubs it in like conditioner. If you're having a bad day... week... year... you might want to stay far away from Jack.
This is the second time I've read OFF SEASON, and the novel has lost none of its punch. There are two more books in his Maine cannibals series (that's my name for the trilogy, not his). I've read OFFSPRING and THE WOMAN before as well, but never back to back. Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I'm going to attempt marathoning these three novels. I want to see how I feel by the end of the third book, whether or not the carnage maintains its impact or becomes cartoon-ish and over-the-top when consumed all at once.
Like I said above, I don't read his books to be entertained. They're more lessons on the visceral than anything else. He is a horror author's horror author, meaning, if you pay the bills with scary stories, you could learn a great deal from him. If you're not an author, I suppose you'd read his books to cement in your mind that your life could be much, much worse.
In summation, I feel a little bad that I enjoy Ketchum's novels as much as I do, but they're also terrific learning tools. If you want to learn how to make a reader uncomfortable, or enjoy feeling uncomfortable, you can't go wrong with Jack Ketchum. show less
While not as emotionally unsettling as either THE LOST or THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, OFF SEASON is still par for the course when it comes to Kill'em All Ketchum. A woman is roasted alive, a little boy is beheaded, a man's penis is bitten off as if the lady is simply snapping into a Slim Jim, and the hero is gunned down by the people tasked with saving the day. This book doesn't piss in your corn flakes, it shits in your hair and rubs it in like conditioner. If you're having a bad day... week... year... you might want to stay far away from Jack.
This is the second time I've read OFF SEASON, and the novel has lost none of its punch. There are two more books in his Maine cannibals series (that's my name for the trilogy, not his). I've read OFFSPRING and THE WOMAN before as well, but never back to back. Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I'm going to attempt marathoning these three novels. I want to see how I feel by the end of the third book, whether or not the carnage maintains its impact or becomes cartoon-ish and over-the-top when consumed all at once.
Like I said above, I don't read his books to be entertained. They're more lessons on the visceral than anything else. He is a horror author's horror author, meaning, if you pay the bills with scary stories, you could learn a great deal from him. If you're not an author, I suppose you'd read his books to cement in your mind that your life could be much, much worse.
In summation, I feel a little bad that I enjoy Ketchum's novels as much as I do, but they're also terrific learning tools. If you want to learn how to make a reader uncomfortable, or enjoy feeling uncomfortable, you can't go wrong with Jack Ketchum. show less
The book actually consists of two novellas. Be warned that they are both nasty, dark, wretched, and twisted. There is a disclaimer attached to the description that reads “This novel contains graphic content and is recommended for regular readers of horror novels.” Of course, that’s like telling a 16-year-old kid that the R rated movie they have managed to get themselves into unnoticed ...is “for adults only”. Bet a lot of copies of this were sold to folks just wanting to see what show more “graphic content” the “regular horror genre readers” were reading that they weren’t. The first novella... "Old Flames" is very much in the style of "Fatal Attraction" but without the typical Hollywood ending and the ‘bunny scene” ... although there was something almost as bad to replace it. Dora finds her old high school boyfriend, Jim. She finds out that he's married with two children but she's not about to let that stop her. The second one..."Right to Life"… believe it or not, is the better of the two. Sara is taken outside of an abortion clinic and held captive by a couple intent on taking her baby. I read a lot of books that could be considered “strange "and “unusual ", but this was almost too much for me. The subject matter is extremely dark and believe me ... it's not for everyone. I understand from other people that this is typical fare for Jack Ketchum books. I had another of his books on my reading list for December but I think I’ll by-pass it. I believe the rest of December will be much better. show less
In the basement, with Ruth, I began to learn that anger, hate, fear and loneliness are all one button awaiting the touch of just a single finger to set them blazing toward destruction.
And I learned that they can taste like winning.
After Jack Ketchum (who's real name is Dallas Mayr) died, a few short weeks ago, I was determined to revisit some of his work. I also suggested it to a friend of mine, who'd said she'd specifically avoided the novel up to now. Unfortunately, I pushed her to read show more the book, because it truly is the single most important book Ketchum ever wrote. She stopped on page 192, saying she couldn't go on, and I get it.
This is only the second time I've read this book, and it'll likely be the last. This is not a book that leaves you glad that you read it. It's not a book you read for entertainment.
In his introduction to Jack Ketchum's last published collection of short stories, Gorilla In My Room, Edward Lee tells this story:
One time Ketchum and I were sitting in a convention bar, in between panels, readings, etc., and I was yammering over my beer about some book I'd read that was flawed from a "writerly" standpoint but I found that I enjoyed it anyway. Then I said something like, "It seems to me that if a novel possesses flawed components but it's still entertaining, then it's done its job. An iffy plot doesn't matter, shitty characters don't matter, crummy dialogue doesn't matter, as long as some other element of that book entertains the readership."
Ketchum replied rather perfunctorily, "Bullshit. I don't want to entertain readers, I want to provoke them. I want to make them think. Think about what's really going on out there, to consider that it's not all tiptoeing through the tulips, to recognize that some really awful shit could be awaiting them around the next corner. Bad, bad shit. Real horror that gets its hands on real people every damn day, when they least expect it. If all my books do is entertain, then they've failed. For a book to be good, it needs to perform, and it performs by provoking the reader into thinking, and to come away from that thinking with something useful."
Nowhere was Ketchum more successful with that than with this novel. This is a masterclass in how to provoke a reader. It's an ugly book about an ugly subject.
But Jack tackles it perfectly. He starts talking about pain. But there's pain, and then there's pain, and Ketchum ultimately delivers the pain. But, just as the plot slowly progresses and sucks you in, so do the lines that Ketchum crosses.
Read the first quarter of this novel. You could easily believe you're in one of Stephen King's masterful coming of age stories. It, perhaps. But he turns the screws so slowly at the beginning, giving a glimpse of what could have been, the view from the top of a glorious Ferris wheel ride, before plunging the reader back down to that world where some really awful shit awaits the characters—and the reader—around the next corner.
Truly horrible things happen in this novel, and I am the first to disavow gratuitous violence and torture in a book or movie. But it's never gratuitous here. Ketchum grabs the sides of your head and demands that you watch, not because he wants to gross you out, or titillate you. He wants you to watch and be reviled by it, to be sickened by it.
Because, at least for me, he shows how any aggressor slowly, yet carefully dehumanizes their victim, whether through mental or physical abuse, violence or torture. It's a terrible thing, the most reviling thing one human can do to another, yet we do it all the time, every day. And sometimes we just shake our head, turn away and mutter, "that's too bad." And sometimes...sometimes...our anger, our hate, our fear, and our loneliness, when turned upon another, can taste like winning.
Ketchum makes you feel shame for that.
We are a world of casual violence. We choose guns over children. We watch murders while eating popcorn. We protect rapists and blame the victims. We send people to jail for longer sentences when they sell drugs than when they take a life.
We are a broken world. But we mostly ignore it.
In this novel, for a brief time, Ketchum does not let you turn away from that.
I cannot stress how important this novel is, nor the impact it's had on my own writing. This is a horror novel, but not because of any vampires or supernatural presence. The monsters here are completely human. They are you and me. show less
And I learned that they can taste like winning.
After Jack Ketchum (who's real name is Dallas Mayr) died, a few short weeks ago, I was determined to revisit some of his work. I also suggested it to a friend of mine, who'd said she'd specifically avoided the novel up to now. Unfortunately, I pushed her to read show more the book, because it truly is the single most important book Ketchum ever wrote. She stopped on page 192, saying she couldn't go on, and I get it.
This is only the second time I've read this book, and it'll likely be the last. This is not a book that leaves you glad that you read it. It's not a book you read for entertainment.
In his introduction to Jack Ketchum's last published collection of short stories, Gorilla In My Room, Edward Lee tells this story:
One time Ketchum and I were sitting in a convention bar, in between panels, readings, etc., and I was yammering over my beer about some book I'd read that was flawed from a "writerly" standpoint but I found that I enjoyed it anyway. Then I said something like, "It seems to me that if a novel possesses flawed components but it's still entertaining, then it's done its job. An iffy plot doesn't matter, shitty characters don't matter, crummy dialogue doesn't matter, as long as some other element of that book entertains the readership."
Ketchum replied rather perfunctorily, "Bullshit. I don't want to entertain readers, I want to provoke them. I want to make them think. Think about what's really going on out there, to consider that it's not all tiptoeing through the tulips, to recognize that some really awful shit could be awaiting them around the next corner. Bad, bad shit. Real horror that gets its hands on real people every damn day, when they least expect it. If all my books do is entertain, then they've failed. For a book to be good, it needs to perform, and it performs by provoking the reader into thinking, and to come away from that thinking with something useful."
Nowhere was Ketchum more successful with that than with this novel. This is a masterclass in how to provoke a reader. It's an ugly book about an ugly subject.
But Jack tackles it perfectly. He starts talking about pain. But there's pain, and then there's pain, and Ketchum ultimately delivers the pain. But, just as the plot slowly progresses and sucks you in, so do the lines that Ketchum crosses.
Read the first quarter of this novel. You could easily believe you're in one of Stephen King's masterful coming of age stories. It, perhaps. But he turns the screws so slowly at the beginning, giving a glimpse of what could have been, the view from the top of a glorious Ferris wheel ride, before plunging the reader back down to that world where some really awful shit awaits the characters—and the reader—around the next corner.
Truly horrible things happen in this novel, and I am the first to disavow gratuitous violence and torture in a book or movie. But it's never gratuitous here. Ketchum grabs the sides of your head and demands that you watch, not because he wants to gross you out, or titillate you. He wants you to watch and be reviled by it, to be sickened by it.
Because, at least for me, he shows how any aggressor slowly, yet carefully dehumanizes their victim, whether through mental or physical abuse, violence or torture. It's a terrible thing, the most reviling thing one human can do to another, yet we do it all the time, every day. And sometimes we just shake our head, turn away and mutter, "that's too bad." And sometimes...sometimes...our anger, our hate, our fear, and our loneliness, when turned upon another, can taste like winning.
Ketchum makes you feel shame for that.
We are a world of casual violence. We choose guns over children. We watch murders while eating popcorn. We protect rapists and blame the victims. We send people to jail for longer sentences when they sell drugs than when they take a life.
We are a broken world. But we mostly ignore it.
In this novel, for a brief time, Ketchum does not let you turn away from that.
I cannot stress how important this novel is, nor the impact it's had on my own writing. This is a horror novel, but not because of any vampires or supernatural presence. The monsters here are completely human. They are you and me. show less
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Statistics
- Works
- 103
- Also by
- 57
- Members
- 6,845
- Popularity
- #3,570
- Rating
- 3.8
- Reviews
- 278
- ISBNs
- 227
- Languages
- 10
- Favorited
- 36
