By John McFarland
It was to be the trip of a lifetime. One of those ‘bucket list’ deals that retirees dream of. My wife Cindy’s ex daughter-in-law, Michelle, had always stayed close to Cindy through the years. And after years of hard work, elevating herself to comfortable circumstances, Michelle invited us to join her family on a tour of the UK.
Although Michelle’s family trip was only to encompass the UK, Cindy, always looking at the big picture, saw a larger opportunity. Having two publishers in Germany, Wandler-Verlag and Zagava, and an illustrator in Seville, Spain, she planned that we could get a Europass and see the Continent by rail after our hosts went home. These were exciting prospects, and it occurred to me that there was yet another literature-related possibility open to us before we left England for the train tour.
I had become facebook friends with Ramsey Campbell perhaps three years before. He was always the first person to wish me happy birthday every year, and I enjoyed reading his regular-bloke posts about partying with his friends, cinema, horror, and The Three Stooges. He was and is an avid assembler of 1000 piece picture puzzles and loves a good glass of cheer. We had a sort of connection through the person of the iconic T.E.D. Klein.
The very first fiction I ever wrote was a tale called One Happy Family. Ted was the wunderkind editor of The Twilight Zone Magazine in those days and he accepted that story and published it in October 1983 issue. Subsequent stories I submitted to him didn’t fare so well, but Ted always explain in detail and with much kindness, what he felt was lacking in them. I reconnected with Ted when my first story collection appeared in 2020 and he was graciously supportive and gave me very positive blurbs. He even sent a collection of essays he had recently published, as a gift.
As it turns out, Ted was equally encouraging to Ramsey when he first came on the scene with his novel The Doll Who Ate His Mother, also in the early ‘80’s. They have been friends ever since. Ramsey was impressed when I was honored to be included in a two author chapbook with Ted issued by Wandler-Verlag.
I messaged Ramsey through Facebook that we were going to be in the UK in late August. I asked if he were going to be available then and if we could meet. His response was ‘Let’s have dinner.’ We selected a Turkish restaurant Ramsey and his wife Jenny had wanted to try in Wallasey Village, across the Mersey River from Liverpool. The restaurant was just a few blocks from their home. Ramsey made reservations for four for the evening of August 25.
Cindy has never been a fan of horror. She felt ill-equipped to meet an author whom I had told her was a celebrity. “How famous is he?” she asked me.
“Maybe not quite as well-known as Stephen King, but close to that.”
I told her I was a little apprehensive too. I had never met, face-to-face, a writer in that hierarchy and though I had read three of Ramsey’s novels and many of his short stories, I didn’t consider myself qualified to speak authoritatively about his work.
Cindy and I got to the restaurant first. It was a nice neighborhood place, but completely empty, but for us. We were seated in a booth in the front window. Remembering Ramsey’s love of jigsaw puzzles, I had bought him a gift of a thousand-piece puzzle of horror movie posters over the years. For good measure, I threw in copies of my two story collections.
After about a ten minute wait, an Uber pulled up outside and Ramsey and Jenny made their way out of it. “Here they are,” I told Cindy. I stood to greet them, hoping the coming conversation would not lag and would take on a life of its own.
It took about three seconds to see that Ramsey was the same fellow in person as he is online. His left arm was in a sling. He said he had taken a fall a few weeks before and broken it. “Lucky it wasn’t my writing arm,” he said, as he had just started another new novel. Jenny apologized for looking tired but said she was just preparing for a weekend babysitting her rambunctious grandsons. “But first things first,” Ramsey said. “What are we drinking?”
The first of several bottles of Pinot Grigio was brought to the table and we made short work of it. Cindy need not have been concerned about her conversational skills as we spoke of non-horror books, wines, grandkids, travel, sightseeing (Ramsey and Jenny had just returned from visiting a son in Singapore) and pets. We ordered our food and everyone shared whatever was on their plates. More wine came and Ramsey entertained us with magic tricks and tales of such notables as Robert Aickman and Ted Klein. And always an occasional Three Stooges reference.
I gave Ramsey his gift bag. He was delighted with the puzzle and seemed genuinely grateful for my books. “Did you sign them?” he asked. I had thought he might resent the presumption. But, not at all.
For four hours we talked, ate and drank our wine. Jenny said more than once she was really enjoying herself and she hoped we would stay in touch. I called the waiter over and he took four photos of us together. We had the restaurant to ourselves the entire evening. At ten o’clock I paid the bill and offered to share an Uber with our guests.
I had to help Ramsey to his feet. I think his injury had taken something out of him. The four of us waited on a deserted street for our ride. When it came I helped Ramsey into the car and in five minutes we were at their home on a comfortable, ivy-draped residential street nearby. Everyone hugged everyone and Jenny repeated she wanted to stay in touch. Ramsey seconded this and I could see they had really taken to Cindy. Me too, apparently.
I didn’t initiate this memorable evening with any plot or plan, but as it turns out, Ramsey really did read my books and loved them. He gave me several blurbs to use in the future. More than I ever expected. I just wanted the chance to meet him and talk writing. And, as it turns out, Wandler-Verlag will be publishing another chapbook next year, featuring Ramsey and myself.
I still hear from him regularly. And many of the messages, though not all, begin or end with some reference to The Three Stooges.
JOHN MCFARLAND’S first novel, The Black Garden, was published in 2010, and the story
continues with the recent Mother of Centuries. His work has appeared in The Twilight Zone Magazine, Eldritch Tales, National Lampoon, River Styx, Tornado Alley and the anthology A Treasury of American Horror Stories, which also included stories by Stephen King, Richard Matheson and H.P. Lovecraft. He has written extensively on historical and arts-related subjects and has been a guest lecturer in fiction at Washington University in St. Louis. He is a lifelong Bigfoot enthusiast, and Annette: A Big Hairy Mom is his first novel for young readers.