It's six years today since Charles Black, real name Michael Duggan, died. I still find it barely believable.
Below is a tribute I put together in his memory from some of the writers who knew him best. This was originally published in Phantasmagoria Magazine, courtesy of Trevor Kennedy.
A TRIBUTE TO CHARLES BLACK
by (in alphabetic order)
Compiled by David A. Riley
I
still vividly remember how shocked and saddened I was on the 16th of
March, 2019 when I was told on the phone by a nurse at St Michael's Hospice in
Hereford that my friend Charles Black had passed away earlier that day. At the
time I was planning to drive to the hospice to visit him, knowing it would be
for the last time as he had already been diagnosed with terminal cancer, but
the end came sooner than anyone expected. The last friends from the horror
genre to spend time with him were Kevin Demant and John and Kate Probert (Thana
Niveau), who had the privilege of being with him the day before.
A writer, editor and publisher, and a big enthusiast of Punk Rock, Charles created Mortbury Press, which from 2007 to 2015 produced eleven volumes of The Black Books of Horror, each with the unmistakable artwork of Paul Mudie on their covers. They included an incredible number of contemporary writers in the horror genre, mainly from the UK.
Though a talented writer himself, Charles was not prolific and there are only two collections of short stories by him. The first, published by Parallel Universe Publications in 2015, was Black Ceremonies. The second appeared three years later under Charles’s Mortbury Press imprint, A Taste for the Macabre.
Charles’s own stories appeared in a number of magazines and anthologies such as Eldritch Blue: Love and Sex in the Cthulhu Mythos, Hell’s Hangmen: Horror in the Old West, Late Late Show, Forgotten Worlds, Nemonymous 7: Zencore, Best New Zombie Tales, Cthulhu Cymraeg, Horrorscope, Whispers from the Abyss, and Kitchen Sink Gothic.
For this tribute I have contacted many of the writers and artists who were involved with Charles over the years and asked them to share their memories of him.
Actor and author Kate Farrell fondly recalled that: ‘Mea Culpa’ was the first story I had accepted by anyone, anywhere, and Charlie revealed at a later date that occasionally he smiles, and when he read my story, that was one of those occasions. This was late November 2010, and our first collaboration was published in The Eighth Black Book of Horror the following year. I was also lucky enough to be featured in The Ninth and the anniversary edition, The Tenth. And The Eleventh. He was a complete joy to work with, his editing skills and observations were without equal. His eye was forensic, not a comma escaped him, and he cured me of my love affair with ellipses. Not before time. He cared. Throughout the collaboration we exchanged emails about all the crap of the day, and it was always good to see him at FantasyCon. The last time we met he was wearing a particularly natty pair of striped red and black tighter-than-tight jeans with giant boots, black tee shirt, black leather jacket. He looked simply fab, a bit like a troubadour.
“Those perfect little Black Books of Horror! No serious student of the macabre, the gothic, the conte cruel, the other, could resist them, nor would they want to. His anthologies were compared with The Pan Books of Horror Stories, which were regarded as something of a benchmark in their day. Charlie Black’s collections are right up there. He assembled a grand body of writers, drawing on the talents of Paul Finch, Reggie Oliver, Thana Niveau, Anna Taborska and many others, and found a willing accomplice in Paul Mudie with his artwork. I was, I am, so proud to be part of Charlie Black’s stable.”
Frequent contributor to The Black Books, Stephen Bacon wrote: “All I can say will no doubt be put more fittingly by others who knew him better, but to me he was a passionate and dedicated soul who managed to be both encouraging to new writers whilst at the same time having great respect for the mainstays of British horror and offering a distinct market which stood out against sometimes bland opposition. I feel incredibly proud to have been published in several of his anthologies and am deeply grateful for Charles's guidance and encouragement over the years. His passing leaves me with a regret that I'll never have the chance to chat with him over a beer at FantasyCon and to discuss which were our favourite editions of The Pan Books of Horror.
“RIP Charles.”
Paul Finch, perhaps better known for his crime novels these days, was a prolific contributor to The Black Books of Horror. “Apart from being a fine editor and writer, Charlie Black had the most encyclopaedic knowledge of the horror genre, particularly the short story side of it, that I've ever encountered. As someone who's read anthologies most of my life, from my early teens right up until now, I've long been plagued by vague memories of stories I read long ago and loved but the authors and titles of which I could no longer recall. And then along would come Charlie. All you had to do was hit him with a rough approximation of the outline, or even just a stand-out moment from the tale, and without needing to go and look it up, he'd immediately reply with all the extra info you needed. Just one reason, among many, I suppose, why he was such a remarkable guy.”
Fellow editor, publisher and veteran horror writer, David A. Sutton remembers: “In 2010 I received in the post a copy of The Seventh Black Book of Horror... but I hadn’t ordered it as I usually did with some of the previous volumes in Charles Black’s excellent anthology series. To my delight Charlie had personally inscribed the copy, ‘For David, some horrid, horrific and horrible stories – Charlie’. It was lovely to receive of course, and I thanked him for the copy. But I wasn’t a contributor to that volume, and it was only sometime later that I noticed it also had a printed dedication to me on the acknowledgements page. I rather belatedly and shamefacedly emailed him again, to thank him for the esteem he had granted me. Needless to say, all The Black Book of Horror series had been dedicated to renowned anthologists: Herbert van Thal, Mary Danby, Hugh Lamb, Michel Parry, Clarence Paget, Peter Haining. The eighth volume noted Richard Davis, the ninth Christine Campbell Thomson; ten was Charles Birkin. Charlie’s final volume was dedicated to the Vault of Evil forum, run by reviewer extraordinaire Kev Demant. I was certainly in very good company with those other editors, in fact much more able company than myself, and so I am eternally grateful that Charlie thought so well of my work as an anthologist. No doubt had he lived longer, future volumes would have embarrassed me further with more acknowledgements of superior collectors of horror yarns than myself!
“I met Charlie just a couple of times at conventions and he came across as very self-effacing, a decent man and a quietly accomplished anthologist. He accepted four of my yarns over the years that The Black Book of Horror was published, and I wish I had been able to submit more work to him. Of the first volume, published in 2007, Black Static magazine commented, ‘Black Book stands squarely in the great literary tradition of horror and supernatural fiction...’
“It might have said great ‘British’ tradition, as most of the contributors hail from these nearer shores. And that the series has been compared elsewhere to The Pan Books of Horror Stories is perhaps the highest testament to Charlie Black’s dedication and prowess in the genre...”
Another regular contributor to The
Black Books was singer and writer Craig Herbertson who remembers Charles
with fondness. “My first and only meeting with Charles Black was at the World
Horror Convention in Brighton in 2010. Charles had published a couple of my
stories in his celebrated Black Books of Horror. I saw him across a
crowded room, a pale man with short black hair and a youthful punky look.
Charles had all the enthusiasm of a reclusive hermit being forced to
socialise. I was in a similar mood as I knew nobody, and I don’t like crowds.
But despite his shyness Charles’s first action was to say, “Would you like to
meet Ellen Datlow?” This might sound strange for a man who was first
published in a horror anthology in 1988 but I didn’t know who she was. I’d
returned to horror after a twenty-year gap, and I really didn’t know anybody
apart from a few names on the notorious horror forum Vault of Evil.
“One thing became clear later. Charles had thought it would be good for me to meet her. And that describes the man. Always wanting to help. Subsequently, he introduced me to the then budding author, Anna Taborska, and writers and editors, David and Linden Riley. I still have good memories and good feelings towards these people – all down to Charles and his desire to help everyone else make valuable contacts.
“I had long email correspondence with Charles, all about the stories I submitted to The Black Books of Horror. He was a meticulous editor and an enthusiast who wanted to get it done properly. He only ever rejected one of my stories and when I looked again, I realised that I had broken his guidelines. That again was a measure of the man: No favouritism, no exceptions; just a desire to contribute to the genre and the satisfaction of doing a good job.
“I later discovered that, like me, Charles was an old punk rocker. If we had ever met again, we would have talked about those days but sadly it didn’t come up.
“When he died, I was shocked. I simply had no idea he was ill, and I badly wanted to attend his funeral. I have never felt so frustrated that I couldn’t get there to say goodbye. No car, no money. I checked buses, trains and phoned a few friends who stayed some sixty miles away from his last resting place on a lonely Welsh hill. It just wasn’t possible.
“So, given that I couldn’t pay my respects then I really appreciate this chance to say now, that Charles was a great person with a big heart, and I sincerely wish I could have met him more than once.”
The writer Marion Pitman relates that “Charles Black was a nice man. He wasn’t a close friend, but we chatted at conventions, and he published three of my short stories; we were always amicable over changes to text, and he was encouraging. He is a great loss.
“He is the only person ever to have immortalised my likeness as a severed head, for the cover of The Eighth Black Book of Horror.”
Mike Chinn had several stories in the Black Books. He remembers that he “first met Charles Black at one of those sporadic and short-lived attempts by the British Fantasy Society to encourage Open Days/Nights outside London. This was Birmingham in 2007, in a pub (naturally) off the beaten track a little, so even though it was Saturday, it was fairly quiet and we had a sizeable corner to ourselves.
“At some point during the afternoon, David Sutton passed me and said
he’d just been
talking to this guy who was editing a new horror anthology. Maybe I should go
and have a
word with him. Now, I’m usually not all that relaxed about going up to someone
out of the
blue, but this time – no doubt spurred on by a real ale or two – I summoned up
the nerve and
approached Charles (not his real name of course, but I didn’t find that out
until I received a
cheque for my first acceptance). Obviously he wouldn’t have known me from Adam,
but he
was polite and gracious when I introduced myself and began to outline what The
Black Books of Horror were all about (a sort of modern day Pan Books of
Horror Stories), and passing on his contact details. A short time later we
were joined by Peter Coleborn (if memory serves) and somehow the conversation
turned to Slash fiction – a sub-sub-genre which turned out to be a far cry from
what I’d imagined. Shortly after that Charles left, needing to catch his train
back to Wales (he’d come all the way to Birmingham just for a couple of hours).
“I had something which I thought might fit Charles’s guidelines (in fact
I had two, and
like a cheeky bugger I sent him both, with a two-day interval between them). To
my surprise
(and delight) he accepted them. It would be another five years (and half a
dozen rejections)
before he took anything else. Charles might have been quiet and polite – but he
knew what he
liked and was never afraid to reject. Something I always appreciate in an
editor.
“He was also a bloody good editor. He never asked for any major changes
in my
contributions, but the few things he did pick up on were incisive. A word here,
a phrase there.”
Kate (Thana Niveau) Probert recalls that: “Charlie was one of the very first people John introduced me to in the horror community. He was also one of the very first to publish a story of mine (‘The Pier’, The Seventh Black Book of Horror). Back then I was cripplingly shy and extremely insecure about my writing. It was overwhelming to go to conventions and meet so many established writers, some of them true legends of the genre. But Charlie was one of those people I immediately felt at ease with. In the madness and chaos of a convention, he was always a comforting presence. Perhaps he’d like that image: a silent ghost exerting a dark influence over his writers. Charlie went on to publish several more of my stories, and it was always an honour to be in one of his Black Books. I’m proud of all the stories I wrote for him, and I cherish those horrific little volumes. Who would ever guess what a lovely, soft-spoken man their creator was!
“One of my favourite memories of Charlie is from one late night in 2013 - at World Fantasy in Brighton. John and I had organised a show with readings from several authors. It was all over and everything was winding down. A few of us lingered with John and me: Reggie Oliver, Anna Taborska, and of course Charlie. It was lovely to get to spend time just hanging out and chatting with friends, away from the noise of the bar and the crush of crowds. It seemed like we were all ghosts that night, haunting the hotel. Perhaps we’re still there now. The Black Books live on in all our hearts. There is nothing else like them, and nothing will ever replace them. Or Charlie.”
One of the most prolific contributors to The Black Books of Horror, John Probert wrote: “It's hard to believe it's now three years since we lost Charles Black. A story of mine appeared in every Black Book apart from Volume Four (solely because I didn't have time to write one) and Charlie was kind enough to put two of my stories into Volume Five instead. The Black Book of Horror was a series intended to emulate the old British horror anthologies of the 1960s and 1970s including those published by Tandem and Fontana, but especially The Pan Book of Horror Stories edited by Herbert van Thal, which was both adored by and an inspiration to Charlie and many of its contributors. Thana Niveau and I were with him at the hospice the night before he died, along with our good friend Kevin Demant of the Vault of Evil message board, a place where many of us like-minded pulp paperback fanatics first got to know each other. The Vault of Evil was also the springboard for Charlie's idea to create a series featuring the kind of stories that had so affected us when we were growing up. The three of us felt privileged to have been given the chance to have one last, lengthy conversation about the literature we loved before getting to say goodbye. Charlie was a tireless defender and advocate of a pulp horror writing style that sadly receives neither the recognition nor the respect it deserves nowadays. He loved the gleefully nasty tales of authors like Sir Charles Birkin and Robert Bloch, but most important of all he was a very nice man, gentle in nature, always supportive, and someone who despite being in a business that requires putting oneself out there, had no real wish to be in the limelight. We were unable to attend his funeral but we were able to send along a few words which were kindly read out at his graveside by our mutual friend Reggie Oliver and went as follows:
‘Dear Charlie (because you'll always be Charlie to us)
‘It was a pleasure to know you, a pleasure to write stories for you, and a pleasure to read the books that you put together and brought out. Your tireless devotion and enthusiasm for seeing more of the kind of literature you loved on our shelves remains an example to us all. You stayed out of the limelight because that wasn't important to you. You will always be remembered as an honest man, a genuine man and someone who we knew we could always trust. You were the 21st Century's Herbert van Thal and Mary Danby rolled into one and we were so glad we got the opportunity to tell you that. We hope you're having a chat with Charles Birkin now, sharing a glass of champagne with Dennis Wheatley or checking out Hugh Lamb's library. Whatever it is we hope you are having a horribly good time, because you deserve it.
‘RIP Charlie, our dear friend, you made the shadows a better place to visit.’”
One of the first people with whom Charles interacted in the genre was Kevin Demant, ‘demonik’ of the Vault of Evil, which he runs or, in his words, ‘gets rid of the spam’. “Charlie Black was a dear friend and a constant inspiration. We met online, drawn together by a shared fondness for ghost and horror anthologies and, significantly, those who compiled them. Charlie being Charlie, it was some months before he let slip that he'd been busy piecing together his own.
“We eventually hooked up at some suitably horrible function in London shortly after he'd published the first of The Black Books. In hindsight, these improved with each new addition to the series, but it's hard to overstate the extraordinary impact of the original.
“For one thing, it seemed to come out of nowhere (in fact, he'd set out at an early age to revive the spirit of The Pan Book of Horror Stories.) For another, those of us who'd lost interest when dark-bloody-fantasy hit the fan, at last had something to get excited about, and several enduring friendships came about as a result. And then there were his own macabre tales, since collected over two paperbacks. As with the anthologies, Charlie's short, grisly contes cruels became more accomplished as his confidence grew.
“For what it's worth, my pick of them is 'The Con.'
“Via his Mortbury press imprint, Charlie also published another personal favourite, Anna Taborska's debut collection, For Those Who Dream Monsters, introduced and beautifully illustrated throughout by Reggie Oliver. This one bagged a Dracula Society 'Children of the Night' trophy. Typically, he never made a big deal of publishing an award-winning collection, beyond admitting in private that he was thrilled.
“For me, an incident at the hospice on that last night pretty much sums him up. His first words were, ‘You've got to give up smoking.’ Yeah, right. He is concerned about my health? I quit in his memory, though sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. After all, he'd promised to haunt me if I didn't.
“You do realise he'd probably have a moan at us for
making all this fuss?”
Other than Charles himself the man most associated with The Black Books of Horror is the artist Paul Mudie, who had this to say about him: “I never had the privilege of meeting Charles, as all our dealings were by email. Even so, I’d like to think we developed a mutually enjoyable working relationship pretty quickly. Charles would throw a very simple brief at me and he let my imagination run with it. And that’s basically how we worked. He seemed happy with what I sent him, and I always looked forward to getting the next brief from him. It was always a thrill to hold the next Black Book of Horror in my hands.
“I think I expected him to turn to another illustrator at some point for the sake of variety, but to my surprise and delight, he kept entrusting me with the task of supplying the cover art. I’m very proud of the work I did for him and will always be grateful that he chose me to be the cover artist for the entire series.
“Even by email you can get a sense of a person, and Charles always struck me as an easy-going but determined man, honest and very humble. I could tell he was the sort of person who liked to work behind the scenes and shine the spotlight on the work of others, so I was very happy when I eventually got to provide the cover art for a collection of his own stories – Black Ceremonies.
“I was shocked and saddened when I heard of his passing, as he’d never mentioned to me that he was ill. That wouldn’t have been his style. He was a rare man and working with him was one of the most fruitful and rewarding periods of my career.”
One of the few writers from the old Pan Book of Horror Stories to find a new home in The Black Books of Horror was David Williamson. “I'll never forget the first time I met Charles Black. It was at the World Horror Convention in Brighton...I think it was 2010, as he was publishing my first story with him, ‘The Chameleon Man’ in Black Book Five. Anyway, I recall sitting there nervously with my plastic day pass badge dangling from my neck, not knowing a solitary soul attending. It's funny how you get a mental picture of somebody you've never met before. In my mind, Charles Black was a tall, dark-haired man, full of confidence, wearing an expensive suit, as publishing moguls are apt to do. I nervously glanced once more at my watch as I awaited his imminent arrival in the bar area where I'd arranged to meet him.
“Then I heard a quiet voice ask, ‘Dave?’ somewhere behind me.
“I turned round to be greeted by a slight, nervous looking chap who wore a leather jacket and (though memory may be playing tricks here) a Sex Pistols tee shirt. He held out a slightly shaky hand, we shook and sat down to have a drink.
“It was then I discovered Charlie's great dry sense of humour and we both felt instantly at ease in each other's company.
“He was such a nice bloke. There was no ‘side’ to him and was so laid back as to be almost horizontal!
“I used to laugh at the way he would leave his seller's stall unattended for most of the day. He was so popular that he always managed to find one of the other stallholders to look after his interest.
“Charlie created far more than a great anthology series. He created a family of horror writers who thought the world of him, as well as a good-sized fan base for the Black Book series. And it has to be mentioned that Charlie himself was an excellent writer in his own right. Though as always, he wasn't the person to blow his own trumpet, always putting his guest authors before himself.
“He encouraged me, a writer who hadn't penned so much as a title in twenty odd years, to start writing again and he wasn't shy about telling you if it wasn't good enough. I much preferred the Charles Black I met that day in Brighton to the one in my mind's eye. He put everyone at ease with his soft, gentle manner. His vast knowledge of horror, especially the Pan Horror series, his dry humour, love of punk and football made him what he was.
“His light was extinguished far too early.
“I really miss him.”
Anna Taborska had a greater involvement with Charles and Mortbury Press than most of us: “The last time I saw Charles Black was in a hospital in Birmingham, where I visited him just before travelling abroad for a week. We arranged for me to visit again as soon as I got back, but the day before my return I got a message from Charlie’s brother, telling me that I was too late. That day I lost not only my brilliant editor and publisher, but also one of my best friends. And I know I’m not alone in feeling his loss keenly. As well as being a visionary horror anthology creator, Charlie had a knack for bringing together some of the nicest and most talented people on the UK horror scene. I owe not only my horror writing beginnings to Charles Black, but also many of my dearest friends – whom I met through Charlie’s Black Books of Horror.
“I first heard of Charles Black thanks to my friend and fellow Black Book of Horror author Paul Finch, who very kindly put us in touch. Charles was the first to publish a short story of mine in print – in The Fifth Black Book of Horror in 2009, and I was very happy to finally meet him in person, at the 2010 World Horror Convention in Brighton, where he had organised a launch for the book and introduced me to the other authors.
“Charlie went on to publish several other stories of mine in subsequent Black Books, and when I had trouble finding a publisher for my debut short story collection, he offered to publish the book himself, through his publishing house Mortbury Press. With an introduction and beautiful artwork by Reggie Oliver and Steve Upham, For Those Who Dream Monsters did well, and Charlie hoped to publish more books through Mortbury Press – particularly collections by other Black Book authors, but unfortunately his health started failing. Being the discreet and no-fuss person that he was, he didn’t tell anyone just how ill he was. He never gave a thought to himself. Instead, he always worried about his friends and pondered what he could do to help them. A typical example of this, and one which moved me deeply, was related to me by Kevin Demant, who was with Charlie a few hours before his death. Kev told me that Charlie was preoccupied with the problems I’d been having getting Bloody Britain published. The two of them put their heads together and came up with the same name: David Sutton – legendary editor, creator of Shadow Publishing, and a Black Book author to boot. Charlie passed away that night, but Kev told me about their conversation, and the following year David Sutton published Bloody Britain, with artwork from my friends (and Black Book regulars) Reggie Oliver and Paul Mudie. Even in the last hours of his life Charlie was thinking of others.
“Charles Black was caring,
generous, funny, smart and selfless. He was a talented writer,
a superb editor and the kindest friend anyone could wish for. He always kept an
eye on me to
make sure I was okay, he read all my stories – whether he would be the one
publishing them
or not, and gave excellent advice. The time I got to hang out with Charlie at
the World Horror
Convention and FantasyCon was brief. Like many of his other friends (now my
friends), we
stayed in touch mostly online, but his support and encouragement could not have
been
greater. I like to think that Charlie is still watching over me and our
extended Black Books of
Horror family.”
Actor, writer and artist Reggie Oliver completes this tribute: “I am proud to say that I was in Charlie’s Black Books - several times.
“In the course of his career as a publisher Charlie produced eleven volumes of the Black Books of Horror. They contained stories by established figures in the genre as well as introducing some bright new stars (like Anna Taborska and Kate Farrell) and they were a remarkable achievement, especially when you take into account that Charlie was something of a one-man band, living in a rather remote corner of Wales, and never sadly in the best of health. They were an astonishing achievement. I don’t know where he got it from but Charlie was a natural at publishing and editing. Nobody, as far as I know, taught him. He just knew what to do and how to do it. The result is that those Black Books have already become collectors’ items - so those of you lucky enough to have copies, hang on to them!
“What is it that makes a great publisher and editor? Well, it’s not just a love of the craft, though Charlie had that. You have to know how to put a collection together and in what order. You also have to curate each individual story and offer guidance and suggestions. Charlie was amazingly good at all these things. Let me tell you that every writer, however good they think they are, needs an editor. You need them to tell you what doesn’t work, and what might possibly work instead. On the other hand, what you don’t want is for them to instruct you word for word what you should write. Just a gentle nudge in the right direction is what is required, and Charlie was expert at the gentle nudge. With me it was usually the endings. I won’t tell you what exactly he suggested to me to improve my stories, mainly because I have conveniently forgotten: all I will say it was just enough and no more. Tactful, gentle, helpful, shrewd: that was Charlie. And that was not all: Charlie also produced a very fine collection of his own entitled Black Ceremonies, and under his own imprint Mortbury Press, a memorable collection by his friend, (and mine I am proud to say) Anna Taborska under the title For Those Who Dream Monsters for which I was lucky enough to contribute some illustrations.
“Yes, that was some achievement, but, as you can imagine, with Charlie it was not all easy going. I have to say that I have only one complaint against him, and it is a small one. He was almost impossible to take out to dinner. Whenever we met at some convention of fantasy and horror writers, we – his writers would want to give him dinner somewhere. He was always reluctant, mainly because he was such a genuinely modest person, that he couldn’t quite believe anyone would want to treat him to a square meal. Then there was the question of what, because of his health, he could or couldn’t eat. I remember on one occasion – I’m pretty sure it was Brighton – we did manage to persuade him to come out with us, but then arose the question of diet. He began to reel out a long list of foods that wouldn’t suit him until someone sensible – I think it was Anna Taborska – asked him what he would eat. So Charlie had a think and eventually he came up with a simple answer: chicken and chips. I say simple, but you would be amazed how difficult it was to find a restaurant – in Brighton anyway – which would do you a decent plain dish of chicken and chips. Well, we did eventually find somewhere: believe it or not, it was a Chinese restaurant. So while the rest of us tucked into prawn balls and Peking duck or whatever, Charlie had his chicken and chips, and a good time was had by all, I’m happy to say.
“Charlie, all of us who knew you will remember you with love and admiration as long as we live. But even after we are gone, someone somewhere will pick up one of Charlie’s books and revel in it and put it down and think, my word! This Charles Black: some publisher! Some writer! Some man!”
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