“Good evening! Good evening Barnabas, Julia, please, come in…” said Professor Stokes, inviting them into his house.
“You said that you had an urgent matter to discuss with us,” said Barnabas Collins, as he and his dearest companion, Dr. Julia Hoffman, entered Professor Stokes’ home.
“Come, please, sit down,” said Professor Stokes.
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As a writer of urban/dark fantasy stories (Gun Street Girl, Hungry Ghosts (a graphic novel and also a related-but-not-the-same prose novel by the same name), The Talking Cure, and Song to the Siren), I had originally planned to write this essay about obscure female fantasy/horror writers that deserved more attention. I wanted to write about the Weird Tales writer Mary Elizabeth Counselman (“The Monkey Spoons,” “Mommy”) and the quiet horror writer Rosemary Timperley (“Harry,” “The Sinister Schoolmaster”). However, I ran into a psychological block: it’s extremely difficult to find these fine ladies’ works. Oh, if you’re lucky, you may find “Harry,” one of the finest quiet horror stories out there, in a ghost story anthology. If you’re extremely lucky, you may find Mary Elizabeth Counselman’s “The Monkey Spoons,” a tale of fate and tragedy, in a horror anthology. But if you liked their work and wanted more, unless you’re an internet detective the way my husband and writing partner, Park Cooper, is, finding more stories by these women will be an exercise in frustration, as their works are, sadly, long out of print.
So, I’ve decided to write a personal essay about two women named Dorothy and how they influenced my writing. The first one is an ace short story writer. The second is a mystery author.
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NARRATOR (Grayson Hall): In spite of her best efforts to stay in the past, Dr. Julia Hoffman has found that her spirit is being dragged back from 1897 to the latter half of the twentieth century. Soon her spirit and body will be reunited… and Barnabas Collins will be alone, in a strange and friendless time…
~~~~~~~~~
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Look, it’s more stuff of which Barb approves! (And I, Park, do, too!)
—Let Sleeping Corpses Lie (1974) (also known as The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue)
I am not usually a fan of zombie films. They bore me. All zombie films have the same plot: zombies eat a bunch of people, humanity is screwed, the end.
Yes, there are exceptions. I love the original Night of the Living Dead, Hammer Studios’ Plague of the Zombies, and the obscure radio production of a Halloween one-off called “The Peoria Plague.” But unless a zombie film has something different to offer me like the Blind Dead films or, I just have no interest in the walking-dead-type films.
So, I was surprised how deeply affected I was by Let Sleeping Corpses Lie. It had such a stupid title, just for a start. But Kill Baby Kill has a silly title, and I like that film, so, what the heck, I decided to poke those sleeping corpses with a stick to see what gives.
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