The eccentricity that is greydogtales has a minor headache, which we shall seek to alleviate by a quick piece in between lurchers and the weird. What do we actually think of the links, writers, artists and works which we mention on the site? It’s probably time to clarify some stuff, which sounds so hideously self-important that it’s why we haven’t done it until now. We usually try not to take ourselves too seriously.

We are a signpost, as Queen Victoria never said. By that, we mean that we often have no real idea if you, as an individual listener, will enjoy the things we mention. We hope that you’ll get something out of it, and we might express an opinion if we really like something we come across, but what do we know?

Tastes vary. Just because you love dogs, you might not like having a lurcher (you should, but that’s not under our control). Similarly, if you like M R James, you may hate a contemporary horror story we mention. And vice versa. Artwork is even worse – we love Art Deco; our editor-in-chief is left icy cold by it. You get the idea.

There are exceptions, of course, where there is no doubt about what your taste should be:

• Our longdogs – who are utterly brilliant and The Best Dogs in the Universe and can do no wrong, except when they do and drive us mad;
• Our writing – the fiction of John Linwood Grant has been described in such glowing terms as ‘tolerable’ and ‘better than reading sandpaper’ (Stephen King’s plumber’s sister), so that settles that;
• Our website – which is, as you know, “the highest-rated site on the Internet that covers both lurchers and weird fiction,” (Arbroath and Smokie Herald).

As greydogtales staggers around the world, we get to know people. That’s nice. People can be fun. Or food. But we also get asked for reviews more often. It seems that we have to do slightly better than just muttering in a corner about this one. Then the headache will go away. So…

Almost a Policy

A signpost says where you can find things, unless you’re in a war movie, in which case it’s been taken down or turned round so that you’re heading straight for the enemy tank column. Feel free to use greydogtales for that (not the enemy tanks ruse, the first bit).

1. If you’re doing something exciting in the world of lurchers, weird art or fiction, do tell us. Get in touch, send us the gory details. If we also think it’s exciting, we’d like to give you a nod on here. Collaborative would be our middle name, but Linwood is easier to spell. Remember that we’re not cutting-edge, though. Half of our brain cells are still puzzling over the events of 1908. Those Austro-Hungarians are tricky fellows…
2. If you want to send us a review copy (and people do), that’s cool. We’ll happily read it (or watch it) eventually. We’re old and slow. If we think it’s great, or if it fits a theme we’re into, we’ll cajole you to into coming on one of the broadcasts and maybe doing a full feature or interview. We love introducing our listeners to new weird things. You won’t get a ‘proper’ review out of it though, even if you are utterly brilliant. Not our kettle of ribcages.
3. If you want us to mention your site, that’s also good. Our Links section really should be larger, and our Weird Media page is desperately in need of completion. The more relevant your site is to our obsessions, the more quickly we’ll get you up there.

The above has been hovering over us for some time. We were impressed by Dawn Cano‘s recent article on Ginger Nuts of Horror (we must stop mentioning them), concerning reviews. It reminded us that we’d better say something ourselves before anyone got the wrong idea about the books we discuss on greydogtales. We don’t critique what we cover, we just signpost it.

If we don’t like what we get, we’ll e-mail you privately and say that it doesn’t quite sit right with us. We’ll even be helpful if we can, but not in public. If we say ‘excellent’ or ‘talented’ in an article, that’s a personal comment. You should judge for yourselves by having a quick look and going “Hmmm.”

Dawn’s piece can be found here:

reviews – a reviewers guide

And that’s it – a lame-ass policy statement from an insignificant corner of a little rock-ball. You can forget all about it now. We should probably put this up somewhere permanent on-site, but we have to take the longdogs out, it’s pouring down again, and our wellies leak.

Normal service resumes tomorrow…