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Thanks very much for visiting the John Wooley page. I think this is the place where I'm supposed to tell you what a swell writer I am and ask you to buy my books. Well, I do think I'm pretty good, if for no other reason than I've been at it for a while – my occupation has been writing for more than four decades now, as I continue to take, as Ranger Doug of the group Riders in the Sky termed it, that hot-air balloon to the top.
(Along those lines, I'm reminded almost daily of Flaubert's definition of talent as “a long patience.”)
If you should be sufficiently intrigued to buy a book of mine, I've certainly got plenty to choose from – more than one for every year I've been in the business. They're nonfiction and fiction, written with other writers as well as on my own, and I've had some good luck with a few. OLD FEARS, for instance, which I wrote back in 1982 with Ron Wolfe, was optioned by Wes Craven, Paramount Pictures, and then, rather improbably, Sony Pictures – 37 years after it was first published! In fact, at this writing (in late 2019), Sony still holds the option.
The as-told-to biography I wrote with New York Yankees pitching great Ralph Terry in 2018, RIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE, got some nice words in THE NEW YORK TIMES, BOSTON GLOBE, and NEW YORK DAILY NEWS, and my book about my home state's movies, SHOT IN OKLAHOMA, was named 2011's Outstanding Book on Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
These days, I'm particularly proud of the first two volumes in the Cleansing trilogy, SEVENTH SENSE and SATAN'S SWINE, which my old pal Robert Brown and I wrote. Both of us are deeply influenced by the pulp magazines of a bygone era, including WEIRD TALES, and we're happy to see people picking up on that vibe in the novels. As far as nonfiction, I've been collaborating for years with the peerless Michael H. Price on the FORGOTTEN HORRORS series of movie books; our latest is a look at the beach-party films and their predecessors. It's called FANTASIES IN THE SAND. (We also do a regular FORGOTTEN HORRORS podcast, which you can pick up just about anywhere.)
That's probably more than you need or want to know, so I'll close by appropriating the two great sentences that end James M. Cain's preface to his 1946 novel THE BUTTERFLY: “I am a registered Democrat. I drink.”
Thanks again.
John W.
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