Horror Epic THE SLAB

Jeff-

Welcome again to KindleBoards and congratulations on your book! I'm intrigued...as a very part time resident of San Diego, I've been to the Salton Sea area...your blurb convinced me to try your book! Anyway, on with the official Welcome....

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True Tales from The Slab, Part 1

When I wrote my horror novel The Slab (see my sig), it was after years of visiting the real-life area of California's Imperial Valley where the novel takes place. During those trips to one of America's most bizarre, sun-blasted landscapes, strange things happened--strange things that eventually made me sit down and write what became my first original novel (as opposed to the tie-in work I had done) for adults (as opposed to the teen horror quartet Witch Season [now Dark Vengeance] that Simon & Schuster had published).

More or less centrally located in the valley is the Salton Sea, a huge inland sea created accidentally (albeit in the location of an ancient seabed) when an under-financed, overly optimistic group of charlatans and boosters called the California Development Company tried to control the Colorado River through a series of inadequate barriers, in hopes of selling water rights (and therefore farming) to settlers in the valley. Floods through the winter and spring of 1905 resulted in the river breaking through all their gates and ***** and flowing at its full strength into the nearest low point, the Salton Sink. The CDC sold out to E. H. Harriman of the Union Pacific Railroad, one of the most wealthy and powerful men in America, but all his money couldn't stop the river. Through 1905 and 1906, it poured into the Sink, creating a sea that remains today. A couple of rivers, the Alamo and the New, still feed the Salton Sea, but it has no outflow; as a result, toxins from Imperial Valley agribusiness constantly wash into it but not out. Later boosters tried to turn the shores of the Salton Sea into a Palm Springs-like resort, but people with money rarely flock to beaches where at any time, thousands of dead fish might be washed up on the beach.

The result is that there are a few towns scattered around the Sea, and many more town layouts--roads laid neatly in the desert, cul-de-sacs and stakes marking the lines of ownership, but no owners.

To the east of the Sea, outside the small town of Niland, is an even stranger community, Slab City. Slab City came about when during WWII, concrete slabs were laid between the Sea and the Chocolate Mountains to serve as a base for desert maneuvers--preparation for the war in northern Africa. After the war, those nice, level slabs were abandoned, and gradually people migrated to them in campers and tents and later, huge RVs and little VW buses and everything in between. There are no municipal services to speak of, though a school bus does show up to take kids to school. People live there because they are fiercely independent, or too impoverished to pay even the lowest rent, or too crazy to function in civilization. During the winter the population swells with snowbirds, but during the summer, when temperatures can easily soar above 110 for weeks at a time, only the hardcore remain.

One of the sources of entertainment for the Slab-dwellers is watching the "fireworks" in the Chocolate Mountains. Although the military abandoned the slabs, it kept the Chocolates, and uses them as a bombing range for the nearby Yuma Proving Ground, as well as a laser test area. People sit outside their campers and watch the explosions light up the night. Some of them mark the locations, then go in (violating all manner of federal laws) to see if the bombing left behind any scrap metal that they can sell to buy food for a while.

Once I was out in the Valley with naturalist and brilliant writer David Rains Wallace. He pointed out that since the Chocolate Mountains had been largely off-limits to people for the decades during which California's growth had been most pronounced, and its deserts largely overrun by civilization--and since the bombing tended to be confined to the central areas of the range, so as not to endanger civilians, it was likely that the most pristine desert land in the state was inside the range's fences. Anyplace that had not been actually hit by bombs, he speculated, was probably as close to pure, natural desert as one could find in California.

Naturally, I took that as a challenge. A few weeks later, a friend and I strolled along the military's tall chain-link fence until we found a place where it had been knocked down. A narrow dirt road led into the range. Since I don't know what the statute of limitations might be for trespassing on a US military installation, let's just say that if I had a dream about what happened next, it would have gone like this:

We wandered up the trail for a while, until we were well inside the range, out of sight of the fence. It appeared that Wallace had been right. The desert here was unspoiled, with none of the tire marks and garbage and erosion caused by humankind. It was beautiful country, rich and alive.

But after we had been exploring for a while, we heard the unmistakable sound of a truck heading our way, up the same dirt road we had followed. Busted! we thought. Just in case the military knew we were out there somewhere, but didn't have a precise fix on our locations, we ran away from the road, then took cover in a wash, screened by creosote bushes. We watched for the distinctive olive drab or desert camo that would mark a military vehicle.

Only, that's now what we saw. Instead, we saw a bright red, brand new full-sized American pick-up truck with an empty bed and a couple of guys inside.

Confused, we watched it go by, even deeper into the range than we had yet been, maybe another half-mile at the most, and we heard its engine cut off.

Then another noise broke the desert stillness--a helicopter. Surely this was the authorities, and surely they'd be more inclined to go after the truck than two poor hikers.

Only, again, that's not what it was. The chopper was also private, and it was racing up from the south. In which direction, about 25-30 miles as the 'copter flies, is Mexico.

The private helicopter dropped suddenly, about a half-mile from us--just about where the truck had stopped.

At which point, we knew beyond any doubt that being arrested for trespassing, awkward as that might be, would have been far less dangerous than being viewed as a witness by the guys in the truck or the guys in the chopper, as they transferred their merchandise from one to the other.

We kept to our hiding place, safely under the creosote, as first 'copter, then truck, made their getaways. Once we were sure the coast was clear, we hurried out of the range, and back to our own vehicle, glad not only not to be in federal custody, but glad to still be alive.

Because that's the kind of place this is--a place where humans are so few on the ground, and so determined not to let other people get into their business that they don't get into that of others, that drug cartels use it to make their connections for shipments heading north.

As I've mentioned before, the original edition of The Slab was heavily illustrated by the great Tommy Lee Edwards. In his desire to do right by the book, Tommy wanted to go out to Slab City and the Salton Sea area, to see the real-life locations for himself (and probably to see for himself if I was making up all the strangeness I had described-which, of course, I wasn't).

He lives in North Carolina, but he's out in San Diego at least once a year for the San Diego Comic-Con (which we're both attending this year-we're there right now, in fact). So that year, he arranged to stay an extra day, and though we were both pretty wiped out from the con, we piled into my Xterra and made a trip to the desert.

Some of the strangest bits from the real Slab City didn't make it into the book. The shower, for instance, I don't think is in there. The shower is spring water that is diverted through a pipe into a hole in the ground. To take a shower, you climb down a ladder into the hole and let the spring water run over you. Typically, those who are shy will have someone else along to fend off anyone who might happen to approach the shower while they're bathing. I have to say, on a roasting summer day, that shower is pretty refreshing. But I probably wouldn't want it to be my only shower-which it could be, if I lived at Slab City.

While Tommy and I were driving around, we saw one place-not just an RV, but more of a compound, comprising an RV and other little structures- that was heavily camouflaged. At least one, but I think two, Confederate flags were flying over it. It might have been the same place where there was a decomposing horse's head mounted on a post outside, about where you'd expect to see a mailbox. Tommy drew the horse's head into the book, but I don't think I mentioned it in the text. At any rate, when we saw the place, I slowed down in order to allow Tommy to photograph it. He was pointing his camera out the open window when we started hearing a succession of gunshots from the other side of the camo netting. You will probably not be surprised to learn that I jammed my foot down on the accelerator, and Tommy didn't get to take any more pictures there.

After Slab City, we were driving north on Highway 111, up the eastern side of the Salton Sea, so I could show him some of the sights there. Remember, this was late July, and the temperature that day was around 115 out there. The heat fritzed out his digital camera, and at one point he was fiddling with it, hoping he could save the dozens and dozens of photos he had taken out at Slab City. While he was doing that, I was slowing for a Border Patrol checkpoint. Instead of just waving us through, as BP normally does for obviously American Anglo guys, they asked me to stop the vehicle, and then officers went to each of our doors and told us to get out and move away from the vehicle in opposite directions. They wanted to interrogate us separately, because they wanted to know why Tommy had been taking pictures of a government installation.
Three things to keep in mind: 1) Tommy wasn't taking pictures of anything-he was unable to use his camera at all at that moment. I think that's the reason we weren't arrested, because he was able to demonstrate that the thing wasn't working. 2)The "government installation" consisted of some wooden sawhorse-type roadblocks, a Border Patrol SUV, and a Porta-potty. 3) This was the summer of 2002, and apparently Border Patrol agents were being a little overly cautious when it came to rooting out potential terrorists in our midst.

The e-book edition doesn't have Tommy's art, which is a shame because it's terrific, but there's so much of it, and different e-book readers have different processes and standards, and it would have caused formatting nightmares. IDW's trade paperback has it, and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes those old-fashioned illustrated novels. But if you're just looking for the story, then the e-book has that. As I've mentioned before, the story is complex, suspenseful, and scary, filled with sharply drawn characters-but a lot of books have those things. What makes this one pretty much unique (the only other horror novel I know of that's set in the area is Weston Ochse's impressive zombie tale Empire of Salt, and it's focused on the Salton Sea, not Slab City) is its strange, unbelievable-but true life setting.

One remarkable aspect of the Salton Sea/Slab City area that I did not write into my novel The Slab (because if it included every strange and wondrous feature of that landscape, it would have been a thousand pages long and completely lost all suspense) is Salvation Mountain.

Salvation Mountain lies in between the town of Niland and Slab City. When you come up to it, the first thing you see is a riot of color rising out of the dun-colored desert. Getting closer, you realize that there are words in the color. Closer still, you see that they're religious messages.

I said it was remarkable, and it is. It's mostly the work of one man, Leonard Knight, and it's built with scrap and hand-made adobe and donated paint (100,000 gallons of it, Leonard estimates). It's not just one hill but a series of them, some sturdy enough to walk on, some enclosed spaces to walk inside.

Leonard told me that after he found religion, he wanted to share his faith. Inspired by the sight of a hot air balloon, he decided to make a huge balloon with religious messages on its sides and fly it around the country. But he was no balloon-maker, as it turned out. He sewed and sewed, and then he tried and tried to get the thing airborne. But he couldn't, and soon he realized that if he had managed to get off the ground, the whole thing would have crashed and he likely would have died. He says God was telling him that he was not meant to fly.

Eventually, he made his way to Slab City, liked it, and found a new way to express his faith. He built Salvation Mountain by hand, and is still building it, year after year, layer after layer of mud and paint. He'll be eighty in a few months, but he still works on it every day. He's been recognized as a genuine folk artist, one of the most accomplished ones of our times, and featured on TV specials, in National Geographic, and elsewhere.

Like I said, remarkable.

I posted a few pictures of Leonard and Salvation Mountain on my blog today, but go to the website for more. Better yet, get out there if you're able. Take Leonard some paint, and drop off a few bucks on the donation table. He's quite a guy, and he deserves a little help.

And before you go, of course, read The Slab. It's on sale for 99¢ for another week!

There's a brand new review of The Slab out from the well respected (if oddly named) horror website Ginger Nuts of Horror. In part, it says, "The Slab is one of those books that transports back to a time when you first started to fall in love the genre. It reminds of some of the great horror novels of the '80's. That's not to say the novel feels dated, not by any means. What I'm trying to say, remember those books that had a a roller-coaster fun heart, with a huge cast of characters, that kept you turning each page under the covers long after your parents told you to go to sleep."

The wrap-up is, "I loved this book and I am really looking forward to reading Jeff's collection Nine Frights, if this book is fair representation of his writing skills then Nine frights will be a stonker of a read."

There's yet another new review of The Slab--this one by TT Zuma at HorrorWorld.org.

Here's the takeaway: "This novel is so jam packed with action, morality plays, and diversity, that in lesser hands than Mariotte's it could have easily become confusing. If you have ever read and enjoyed those epic horror novels from the 70's and 80's (think Dan Simmons work) where you were immersed in a sprawling world of rich characterization, smart plotting, and enough sub plotting where the horror was deliberately episodic and horrifying, The Slab will be the perfect read for you."

And he ends it with this: "So, if you are the type of reader who likes to be engaged with contemporary issues, enjoys multifaceted plotting, and soaks up the type of horror that was prevalent in the 1980's, I recommend you pick up Jeffrey Mariotte's, The Slab, you won't be disappointed."

The full review is here.

And of course, clicking on the book cover at the bottom of the post will take you to more information, and ways to buy it!

For a limited time only, you can pick up The Slab as a free e-book: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0054EKU6G (or click on the cover down below).

Since its initial publication in the illustrated trade paperback, The Slab (a 123,000+ word epic) has received a great deal of praise from many different sources. It has inspired people to go check out Slab City and the Salton Sea for themselves (and in at least one case, inspired another book--my pal Weston Ochse set his horror novel Empire of Salt there after he visited).

Here are some excerpts from reviews, in case you're not yet convinced:

"If you have ever read and enjoyed those epic horror novels from the 70's and 80's (think Dan Simmons' work) where you were immersed in a sprawling world of rich characterization, smart plotting, and enough sub plotting where the horror was deliberately episodic and horrifying, The Slab will be the perfect read for you." -- TT Zuma at HorrorWorld.org (Duh...) (http://horrorworld.org/hw/2011/12/the-slab/)

"If you lived through the aftermath of 9/11, you'll recognize the tense confusion of the period immediately following. If you've loved someone with Alzheimer's, you'll appreciate the full-fledged characterization of someone dealing with its limitations on a day-to-day basis. If you've ever lost a loved one and grieved deeply, and if you've ever had a change of heart about what's right and what's wrong, this book will hit you where you live--and take you on a thrill ride through space and time (and a cave filled with man-eating mushrooms), each in good time." -- Red Tash (http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/229263832)

"This is a must read for all horror/thriller lovers" -- Brittany Carrigan (http://thecoverbybrittany.blogspot.com/2011/12/slab-by-jeff-mariotte.html)

"I found The Slab to be an entertaining, thought-provoking and gripping read." -- Paul Dail (http://pauldail.com/2012/01/13/of-mushroom-rvs-and-ancient-evil-a-review-of-jeff-marriottes-the-slab/)

Note: Paul Dail has also posted a new, Slab-centric interview with me. Check it out: http://pauldail.com/2012/01/20/interview-seven-questions-with-author-jeff-mariotte/

"The Slab is one of those books that transports back to a time when you first started to fall in love the genre. It reminds of some of the great horror novels of the '80's. That's not to say the novel feels dated, not by any means. What I'm trying to say, remember those books that had a a roller-coaster fun heart, with a huge cast of characters, that kept you turning each page undr the covers long after your parents told you to go to sleep." -- Ginger Nuts of Horror blog (http://thegingernutcase.blogspot.com/2011/10/slab-by-jeff-mariotte.html?spref=fb)

"Mariotte manages both thought-provoking juxtaposition and lizard-brain satisfaction as he plays out the large cast of characters across this hard and relentless landscape. His serial killers are just original enough to catch readers by surprise and he neatly ties together the threads of random magic, post-traumatic stress syndrome, a subtle supernatural invasion and an upper-class attack on a lower class landscape." -- Rick Kleffel (http://trashotron.com/agony/reviews/2003/mariotte-the_slab.htm)

And, not reviews but blurbs upon the original publication:

"In The Slab, Mariotte grabs the reader's mind bare-handed and drags you through the unraveling of human interactions. It's insightful, potent, powerful--and downright creepy. Not only is The Slab a microcosm of the dark side of human nature, it's also a ripping good thriller." -- Kevin J. Anderson, bestselling author of Terra Incognita, The Saga of Seven Suns, and the Dune books.

"Mariotte is an author with vision. His prose is striking, his plots involving, his characters identifiable. He knows how to move an audience--and how to strike absolute terror in their hearts. If you're not reading his work, you should be. I highly recommend The Slab."
--Scott Ciencin, bestselling author of The Vampire Odyssey

So if for some reason you haven't yet read this classic of contemporary horror, there'll never be a better (cheaper) time.

Tell a friend. Spread the word.

And thanks.