Stories from the Original Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine: Pulphouse

By Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Ray Vukcevich and 4 more

The original Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine published stories in a twisted, Twilight Zone style. Sort of a half-beat off kilter, yet still high-quality fiction and great stories. And most of all highly entertaining.

This collection showcases some of the best from the original magazine, with stories from some of the top fiction writers working today.

Includes:

"Spud Wrangler" by Kent Patterson

"Cooties" by J. Steven York

"There is Danger" by Ray Vukcevich

"Nanoturds" by Ray Vukcevich

"Women Are Like Streetcars" by O'Neil De Noux

"Shadows on the Moon" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

"One Last Gift" by Jerry Oltion

"The Ghost in the Machine" by Jerry Oltion

"Group" by Ray Vukcevich

• Language: English
• Publisher: WMG Publishing
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201735609

Dean Wesley Smith

Considered one of the most prolific writers working in modern fiction, USA TODAY bestselling writer, Dean Wesley Smith published far over a hundred novels in forty years, and hundreds of short stories across many genres. He currently produces novels in four major series, including the time travel Thunder Mountain novels set in the old west, the galaxy-spanning Seeders Universe series, the urban fantasy Ghost of a Chance series, and the superhero series staring Poker Boy. During his career he also wrote a couple dozen Star Trek novels, the only two original Men in Black novels, Spider-Man and X-Men novels, plus novels set in gaming and television worlds.

Book preview

Stories from the Original Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine

Stories from the Original Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine

Edited by

Dean Wesley Smith

WMG Publishing, Inc.

Contents

Introduction

Spud Wrangler

Kent Patterson

Introduction

Spud Wrangler

Cooties

J. Steven York

Introduction

Cooties

J. Steven York

There Is Danger

Ray Vukcevich

Introduction

There Is Danger

Ray Vukcevich

nanoturds

Ray Vukcevich

Introduction

nanoturds

Ray Vukcevich

Women Are Like Streetcars

O’Neil De Noux

Introduction

Women Are Like Streetcars

O’Neil De Noux

Shadows on the Moon

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Introduction

Shadows on the Moon

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

One Last Gift

Jerry Oltion

Introduction

One Last Gift

Jerry Oltion

The Ghost in the Machine

Jerry Oltion

Introduction

The Ghost in the Machine

Jerry Oltion

Group

Ray Vukcevich

Introduction

Group

Ray Vukcevich

About the Editor

Subscriptions

Introduction

In March of 1991, Pulphouse Publishing Inc. launched the first incarnation of Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine. Kristine Kathryn Rusch, who had been the acclaimed editor of Pulphouse: The Hardback Magazine had taken over the editorship of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, its first woman editor in its forty-year history.

We had always planned on the hardback magazine ending with #12 and #11 had just come out. So, it was time for me to step into the editor chair and do a magazine I had always thought would be great fun.

We had called the hardback magazine dangerous with stories that didn’t fit in regular markets. I adopted for Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine the idea that stories were twisted. Sort of a half-beat off kilter, yet still high-quality fiction and great stories. Many Twilight Zone stories fit perfectly in Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine.

The much-loved Twilight Zone Magazine had shut down two years before, so there was a wide market for strange and twisted stories. And I did not care about genre. I would put a horror story next to a sf story next to a fantasy story. If they all had that Pulphouse strangeness.

The first run started with an Issue Zero full of reprints so we could test the idea, then we went on to do nineteen issues until we shut it down in 1995 when Pulphouse Publishing Inc. shut down.

With the new incarnation of Pulphouse Fiction Magazine, owned by WMG Publishing, Inc., I kept up the exact same attitude. The stories had to be high quality, good stories, and twisted in some fashion or another.

Over the space of these new twelve issues, I have also included some reprint stories from the original edition mixed right in with the original stories. To readers, a story is new the first time they read it.

So once again I am having fun. And I think writers are having fun having Pulphouse Fiction Magazine return.

So I hope you enjoy this glimpse into the original Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine in its short life of twenty issues from 1991 to 1995. I wouldn’t consider this a best-of volume because there are so, so many great stories in those original pages.

I am thinking of this as a glimpse back thirty years.

Dean Wesley Smith

Las Vegas, Nevada

Spud Wrangler

Kent Patterson

Introduction

I published many of Kent Patterson’s stories in the original Pulphouse Magazine. Kent was still alive at that time and every time he got me another story, I got excited. He didn’t need to sell his stories to me because at the time he was selling to all the other top magazines.

Kent was one of my most popular authors at the time, and this story in my opinion is a classic. But wildly enough, anyone who was reading Kent’s stories had a different story come to mind when Kent’s name was mentioned. He was that popular. And that unique with his fiction.

During Kent’s short stint writing fiction before his untimely death, he had sold to F&SF, Analog, Pulphouse, and many other magazines. His few stories are still getting out to audiences twenty years later. And remembered by many. An author can’t ask for much more than that.

Spud Wrangler

Kent Patterson

With the suddenness of a rifle shot, a desert thunderclap rumbled and rolled across the Idaho plains. Here and there scattered rain drops fell, kicking up tiny puffs of dust where they hit the dry ground.

That there were a close ’un, drawled old Parley McKonky. Clucking gently, he reined in his horse. Now, now, there, there, he said, patting the horse’s neck. Just a little desert storm, and it ain’t agoin’ to eat you. The horse trembled, its nostrils flared and its eyes wide with fear.

Brig Clark’s horse stood placidly as a cardboard cow. Couldn’t even hear it thunder, Brig thought with disgust. Of course they always gave the oldest horse to the newest wrangler. A fourteen-year-old boy got treated nothing better than a baby when wranglers were concerned. He glanced at Parley. The old man’s face was as wrinkled as a outcropping of lava. Hat off, head raised, he sniffed the air. So did his horse.

Boy, there’s trouble brewing. He looked at Brig. You’re going to earn a wrangler’s pay today. That lightning hit close. Real close. Somewhere around Twin Missionaries Springs. Now tell me what you smell.

Brig sniffed. He smelled mostly horse, sage brush, and maybe a touch of grungy underwear. He took off his hat and tried again. There was something else. The musty scent of desert rain. And something else yet, a faint aroma which reminded him of his mother’s kitchen.

That’s the smell a spud wrangler fears most, son. Parley gave him a keen glance. That smell, son, is baked potato. He raised his hand for silence. Put your ear to the ground, boy, and listen.

Brig climbed down from his horse. Holding the reins in one hand, he lay flat. Raindrops speckled the dirt with little brown craters. Brig placed his ear on the ground and strained to hear. He heard leather reins creaking, the hoarse breathing of his horse. A hoarse horse, he thought wildly.

Then he heard it. Not a sound, really, but a trembling in the ground.

That’s a stampede, son, and it’s coming our way. Parley lit a cigarette, the smell of tobacco permeating the air. They’re coming our way, and they’re coming hard. And there ain’t one damned thing between them and Snake River Canyon but you and me.

An image of Snake River Canyon flashed through Brig’s mind. You popped over a little ridge and there it was, a sheer cliff of black lava dropping four hundred feet straight down. He’d seen a horse fall off it once. Ants had eaten the remains. There wasn’t a piece