He may no longer be with us, but he’s still alive within the covers of all his published novels (and also those unpublished novels still to come). And whenever we need to be thrilled and scared, or even to just remember the great writer who was Richard Laymon, we need only turn to our bookshelves and open a Laymon book.
Damn it, we miss you pal. But we’ll never forget.
RLK! will make sure of that.
Don D’Auria
’VE MADE NO secret of the fact that I was a fan of Richard Laymon long before I published any of his titles at Leisure Books. Like so many of his American fans in the early 1990s, I was forced to feed my Laymon habit by importing British editions of his work over the Internet because he was virtually out of print in the States. In fact, I joked to Dick once that the reason Leisure was bringing his books out in the States was simply because it was cheaper for me to publish his books and get my copies that way than to keep paying shipping costs from the UK. Truth is, if there’s one thing I’m proud of from my time at Leisure, it’s that American fans can now walk into bookstores across the country and see up to two dozen Richard Laymon titles on the shelves, more than ever before. If only Dick were here to see it, I like to think he’d be pleased.
But going back to the way things were ten years ago...It was pretty much common knowledge in those days that one of the things that contributed to Dick being out of print in the US was the way he’d been treated by American publishers. He was very open about his feeling that publishers here in the States never really got behind his books, never gave him decent covers or any promotion. I remember in his Stoker Award acceptance speech for The Traveling Vampire Show (which, sadly, Kelly had to deliver posthumously in his place) he mentioned US publishers who published his books “more or less.” In his autobiography, A Writer’s Tale, Dick also recounted painful tales of horrible experiences at the hands of publishers. Simply put, the guy felt burned. He told me later that he just didn’t want to deal with most American publishers anymore, and because his books were doing very well in the UK, he didn’t have to.
Dick’s feelings on the matter were very well known. Definitely a sore spot.
So the first time I met Dick I was a little intimidated and a bit nervous. I was intimidated because this was Richard Laymon. I was nervous because I was exactly what I’d heard Dick Laymon hated: an American editor. I’m not sure, but I think our mutual friend Ed Gorman had put in a good word for me with Dick. In any event, Dick was extremely friendly and didn’t swat me away. In fact, we had a very nice conversation, over a beer, if I recall.
Gradually, over the course of future conversations, I raised the possibility of Leisure publishing some of Dick’s work. Now, you have to remember this was in the beginning of Leisure’s horror line. The line had been started but wasn’t all that well established yet. We’d published some great authors, but to a lot of people Leisure was definitely an unknown quantity. And we didn’t have a giant corporation behind us, like the other mass market houses. There was really, when you get right down to it, no reason why he should trust Leisure after he’d been stung by larger houses. Dick was, indeed, a little reluctant at first, but, for whatever reason, in the end he was amenable and we agreed we would start with Bite...
Now we jump ahead to (I believe) the following year’s World Horror Convention. The organizers of the con had asked if I would present a little half-hour intro to Leisure Books early one morning and I had agreed. It was only when I got there that they told me they had changed it to an hour. And they had put it in a lecture hall.
So there I am at what felt like the crack of dawn, in a room that looked to me like an amphitheater, with not nearly enough prepared material to fill an hour. I remember walking down the steps from the back of the lecture hall to the stage, looking at a pretty crowded room, and knowing I didn’t have very much interesting to say. Classic nightmare material. When I got to the stage I looked over the audience and I saw some recognizable faces, including, in the front row over to the right, Dick Laymon.
If I ever knew what I said in the first part of that presentation, I’ve long since forgotten it. I imagine it was a general introduction to me and Leisure, the kind of books we published, how to go about submitting, etc. I rambled on for as long as I could, then I opened things up to Q & A. That’s the part I remember.
There were a couple polite questions from folks in the audience. Then I saw Dick’s hand in the air. I couldn’t imagine what Dick would want to ask, but I called on him. I remember he stood up at his seat in the front row...and turned to the audience. (I’m paraphrasing here, but if I’m misquoting it’s not by much.) He said, “I’m Dick Laymon. I think a lot of you know me, and you may know about some of my experiences with editors.” Not just my heart but every one of my internal organs froze. This could go real bad real fast. I immediately started thinking of every conversation I’d ever had with Dick. I couldn’t think of anything that had gone wrong, but still I braced myself. I could see curious and expectant expressions on the faces of most of the people in the audience. Dick Laymon talking about an editor! Oboy! Here we go!
It wasn’t a big thing. It wasn’t anything dramatic, so if you’re hoping for some juicy dirt here, sorry. All Dick said was, “Well, I’ve worked with Don a bit and so far he’s been OK.” Then he sat down.
Now, to you this may not seem like much. You may even be thinking, “I read three pages worth of build-up for this?” And if almost anyone else had said it, I’d probably agree with you. But this was Richard Laymon. This was someone whose work I loved and whom I really admired, someone whose opinion meant a lot to me. And someone who certainly didn’t feel the need to say nice things about editors, especially to an audience. As far as editors were concerned, Dick was the ultimate tough critic.
So to me this meant something.
Some older people may remember a TV commercial for a particular rye bread from the 1970s. It featured the owner of the Carnegie Deli in New York City eating a sandwich made with the bread in question and saying, “It makes a nice sandwich. A nice sandwich.” At which point the voice-over narrator informed us, “And from a deli owner that’s a rave!”
I doubt anyone would consider Dick’s simple “He’s OK” a rave, but it was sure good enough for me. It was like one of the cool kids in school waving to the new kid. Dick didn’t have to do it. No one had asked him to. But that simple little gesture, especially coming when and where it did, sort of summed up Dick for me. It was a thoughtful, generous, and damn kind thing to do. The kind of thing Dick did a lot of, for a lot of people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard about Dick helping out young writers with advice, criticism, or encouragement. I guess he didn’t mind even helping out an editor now and then, too.
Dick and I continued to work together, getting his books into the hands of American fans and introducing him to new readers. As I write this, it’s been nearly ten years and twenty-four books since we started. My goal all along has been to see to it that Dick and his books get all the respect and admiration they deserve. From the day I met him to the day he passed away (fifteen minutes after sending me an email) Dick was never less than wonderful to me.
Looking back now, years later, I can’t even say for sure if I thanked Dick at the time for what he said that morning. I think I did. I hope I did. But just in case: “Thanks, Dick. I appreciate it. And I hope you still think I’m OK.”