David J. Schow is best known as one of the original horror writer “splatterpunks” of the eighties and nineties, as well as a horror film screenwriter and connoisseur (he penned a regular column for Fangoria magazine). Both of these elements are readily apparent in Seeing Red, his first published collection of short stories, which is overflowing with unflinching violence and gore that is reminiscent in style and substance of the golden age of the spatter film and horror novel.

True to Schow’s cinematic roots, many of the short stories in this volume are either directly or indirectly involved with the motion picture industry, and most are set in or around Hollywood. “One for the Horrors” and “Coming Soon to a Theatre Near You” actually take place in movie theaters, while “Incident on a Rainy Night in Beverly Hills” and “Blood Rape of the Lust Ghouls” revolves around the film industry. These stories stand out as the best of the collection – and as a product of the splatterpunk era I might be biased – as these stories contain a passion and romanticism that is noticeably missing from some of the other entries. “Blood Rape of the Lust Ghouls” stands out as the keystone of the film-related stories, a self-referential (and self-deprecating) homage to horror film reviewers that skewers the industry even as it revels in its excesses (and do I detect a nod to Chas Balun in his use of the phrase “chunk-blowing?”).

The best of the collection isn’t restricted to the film-themed stories; his story titled with an illegible scribble is not only a heartfelt love-letter to the dying west-coast punk scene of the late eighties, but a nearly poetic use of street vernacular that recalls past classics like A Clockwork Orange without a hint of mimicry. In fact, “scribble” is probably the most glaring example in this collection of Schow’s mastery of prose and general and the genre specifically. Also at the top of the list is the last story in the book, “Not From Around Here.” Not only does Schow subtly evoke the eldritch horrors of lovecraftian lore with ease with his tale of city-folk stumbling into a rural nightmare, but he showcases his ability to pull the reader effortlessly through the increasingly horrific narrative like the master storyteller he is. How this short story has not been adapted into a film is beyond me.

Schow’s nods to literary horror are less impressive, with “Pulpmeister” feeling too gimmicky (perhaps by design), and “Visitation” coming off as an overly-forced genre homage. Honestly, if you’re going to write a Lovecraft-inspired horror story, try not to actually mention Lovecraft in it.

“Bunny Didn’t Tell Us,” “The Woman’s Version,” and “Lonesome Coyote Blues” are unremarkable yet solid entries. A big deal is made on the front cover of the inclusion of “Red Light,” which won the 1987 World Fantasy Award for Best Short Fiction, but its predictable resolution and neo-noir narrator (who is far less believable than Eye Man from ‘scribble’) puts it a step or two behind several more notable stories included in the collection. The two weakest links in the chain are probably “The Embracing” and “Night Bloomer,” with the former feeling like a writing exercise, and the latter an after-hours Twilight Zone reject.

With all of that being said, the few flaws within are minor, making Seeing Red a very solid collection of short stories, and a great starting point for anyone unfamiliar with this founding splatterpunk’s oeuvre. ( )