I’m Thomas J. Cavazos, and my good buddy J. Augustus Clarke and I would like to ask you a question: do you remember the days when you could walk into a drugstore and see row after row of pulp magazines lining the shelves? Magazines with names like Weird Tales, Amazing Stories, Black Mask, and Adventure?
No. Of course you don’t. We’ll bet the good hard money we don’t have that if you’re reading this, you weren’t alive in the 1920s and 30s. Maybe you didn’t even know pulp magazines used to exist; they don’t really anymore, after all. And, in fact, we’ll be honest with you; we don’t remember those days either.
But we’ve heard stories about them. Larger-than-life heroes, horrifying monsters, exotic settings, sultry women and dangerous men. All the exploitation fit to print.
And you know what? We’d rather read about those things, about people solving their problems with their fists and their firearms, about backstabbing and seduction, about alien planets and unexplored jungles than read about sparkly vampires and precocious tween wizards and the latest ham-fisted zombie story.
And we’d rather write about them, too.
This is Stupendous Stories, where you can come every week for the next year and read something hard-boiled, something out of this world, something dark and stormy.
Will it be science-fiction? Will it be a western? Will it be a detective story? We’ll see.
Will there be sex, violence, and horror? We wouldn’t have it any other way.
Be here January 1st. We will.