That's right; Fangoria Magazine’s Ken Hanley has devoted his life of uplifting the spirits and changing the lives of monsters across this great nation of ours. Vampires, Mummies, Wolfmen, Gillmen and Monsters (Frankenstein's or Otherwise) will finally be able to step out of the shadows after reading The I in Evil and be the social, conscientious citizens without the psycho-and-sociological issues that plague mankind every day.
By reading Hanley's well-versed answers to the questions that has cursed these wicked creatures for eons, monsters* around the world will be able to accept and embrace their nature for good instead of evil. Whether you're tied down by the expectations of your mystic elders or taken prisoner by your never-ending bloodlust, Hanley is here to help you solve your problems the power of positivity and self-confidence. So the next time you're about to sink your teeth into someone's neck, pick up this book instead and remember that you can't spell "evil" without the "I".
*The I in Evil is not meant for humans. This book contains dark, horrifying truths and the author relinquishes any and all responsibility for any actions taken against monsters or themselves as a result of this book.
|Product dimensions:||9.10(w) x 6.30(h) x 1.10(d)|
About the Author
is the Web Editor for Fangoria, as well as the former Web Editor for Diabolique Magazine and a contributing writer to YouWonCannes.com. He’s a graduate from Montclair State University, where he received an award for Excellence in Screenwriting. He currently lives in Sussex, New Jersey.
Read an Excerpt
I Am Monster, Hear Me Literally Roar
I'd like to tell you a story, and please, don't stop me if you've heard this before. In fact, the only acceptable reason for you to stop reading is if you are frozen in fright. This should be the only reason for you to stop reading any book in general, but especially this book, since this book is scary and about monsters who are also very scary.
A man walks into a therapist's office and says, "Doctor, I have a problem. I'm depressed because the world is harsh and cruel. I feel all alone in this threatening world, and my future is vague and uncertain."
The doctor, who may or may not be technically licensed, responds, "Well, I think the treatment is simple. You know the great clown, Pagliacci? Turns out he's in town tonight and he should be able to pick you right up."
The man, who the doctor now realizes is covered in full clown makeup, bursts into tears. "But doctor ... I am Pagliacci!"
The doctor pauses. "If you're Pagliacci, then what happened to my three o'clock, Mr. Robinson?"
The man, wiping the tears from his face as if second nature, stares up at the doctor. "Why, he's dead, doctor. They're all dead."
At this point, the doctor realizes that the blood-red, fourteen-inch, knifelike outline bulging out of Pagliacci's pocket is not his disfigured, mangled penis but instead exactly what he has suspected all along. The doctor looks at his quill pen, knowing that this day would come sooner or later.
While Pagliacci struggles to pull the giant goddamn knife from his pocket, the doctor leaps across his impressively large oak table. The doctor buries the quill pen into Pagliacci's throat as the great, murderous clown swings his knife wildly at him. As blood splatters across the room with cosmic indifference, Pagliacci falls to the ground, turning into a cold shell of a man in mere seconds.
Of course, the doctor composes himself fairly quickly; after all, it wasn't the first time someone had tried to kill him, and the sight of a mangled human corpse had become anything but shocking thanks to prior experiences. The doctor weighs his options on what he was going to do with Pagliacci; after all, the amount of blood soaking into the carpet was most certainly going to cost him his security deposit, but he couldn't just throw the body out the window after a previous "heated exchange" with the head of the sanitation department.
Further complicating the matters was that the doctor's "lawyer" couldn't come through with a "reliable solution" to the Pagliacci problem. The doctor knew he couldn't carve up and dispose of the body on his own, as there was not enough room in his briefcase to fit an entire body, and the building's elevator was on the fritz. Rather than take a frankly offensive number of trips up and down stairs with leaky body parts in his fine brown leather briefcase, he decided to take the easy way out and call the police.
Luckily, ignoring his dirtbag instincts actually worked out for the doctor, literally: Pagliacci was a wanted man, and more than a few states were willing to pay top dollar for his apprehension and/or death. After taxes and lawyer fees, the doctor ended up netting nearly $125,000 for sending Pagliacci on a one-way trip to Helltown. And not only that, but the doctor was able to even milk a little fame out of the affair, as more than a few news outlets wanted to talk about Pagliacci especially considering the doctor's tumultuous formative years.
But Pagliacci had the last laugh after all. Even though the doctor's quick wits and heroism stopped a cross-country crime spree that had become known as "The Therapist Murders," he knew his time treating humans had come to an end. After all, humans are unpredictable and the doctor did not want to be murdered before he became too old to enjoy life, as one is wont to do.
And then there was the whole murder trial that started after the doctor skipped town dressed as a woman and was caught stealing a pallet of ham sandwiches at a Sam's Club. Unfortunately, the authorities were a little more than skeptical of his 100-percent-legitimate plans to attend an upcoming Shelley Winters convention, and his dead-eyed stare and calculated choice of words didn't do him any favors either. Luckily, his defense that "I killed the guy but it wasn't no murder" was all he needed to evoke reasonable doubt, and the doctor was soon back on the streets to practice his "craft."
So, on advisement from his "lawyer," the doctor decided that he would forever trade in his role as a therapist for a career as a motivational speaker. After all, motivational speaking doesn't require any education or training; in fact, just about any idiot can be a motivational speaker. But the question remained: who out there in this world of ours needs reassurance but isn't human?
After an unsuccessful attempt at branding himself as a motivational speaker for feral and rabid dogs, which essentially drained all of his sweet murder money, the doctor turned his sight to the one place no other self-help guru had before: the shadows. The doctor knew about the existence of monsters from a young age, as his father groomed him to inherit the family business of hunting down and killing these creatures of the night. But the doctor had always seen these monsters as misunderstood beings, an opinion that created a decisive rift between his father and him that'd never quite been patched up.
If you haven't been able to piece this together, that doctor and the man writing these words are one in the same. That's right: most of my life has been in one way or another a living nightmare, which makes me all the more suited to help monsters to improve themselves. I'm a practical thinker, a man of the people, and most of the emotions that would otherwise prevent me from communicating with these creatures have long since died.
So who, or rather, what are these so-called monsters? Unless you are a monster yourself, you likely don't know the answer to this question, as if you did, you would be dead. And as far as my knowledge of monsters goes, dead people still cannot read books, unless they are ghosts. However, if you are dead, or know of someone who is dead, I must mention that the cover art on The I in Evil has been specifically designed as an exquisite coffin garnish. Furthermore, if you know a large number of the recently deceased, we could offer a great bulk deal so that every coffin has a personally signed copy of my book buried with it.
But to answer my own question, monsters are creatures who live beyond conventional logic and prey upon the weaker of the human race. These creatures include vampires, man-made creatures, mummies, lycanthropes, gill-men, and other supernaturally enhanced beings of lore. Of course, little video evidence exists of these monsters, who have been misrepresented by the media in a fashion not unlike O. J. Simpson, Oscar Pistorius, or other athletes whose names start with the letter O. In reality, these monsters are just as afraid of you as you are of them, although they're admittedly more likely to do something very terrible to calm their fears.
For instance, think of the vermin that live inside of the walls of your home. Do they mean to irritate you and ruin your living space? Of course not; those disgusting little critters are only interested in cohabiting a shared environment and staying relatively laissez-faire about your lifestyle. But instead, we lure them into traps, poison them, or hunt them down to kill these frightened, desperate creatures for simply following their nature. Monsters are much like, but not exclusively like, those vermin, and would choose not to hurt people at all if they had a choice in the matter.
Now that's not to say monsters aren't dangerous. After all, they kill people all the time for seemingly no reason. So much blood has been spilled senselessly, often times consumed or used as part as some terrifying ritual, by monsters whose fleeting thoughts of casual violence would shame even the most wild imagination. But think of it this way: modern art is pretty terrible too, but we don't cast artists into the dark recesses of the night, do we? These monsters have just as much right to be rehabilitated as any modern artist, and that's a fact no doctor can refute.
Furthermore, monsters have only earned a reputation for their most horrific crimes through secondhand accounts from time periods in which the greatest advance in medicine was a stick you would bite down on during amputation. For all we know, there might be a very good reason that monsters have lashed out at humanity and treated us as prey instead of equals. And since there are no recorded monster attacks on video, there's no concrete way of knowing just how harsh and frequent these attacks might be. For all we know, monsters could be humane in the way they killed their victims, and could have used every piece of their body like whatever Native Americans did that back whenever they did that.
As we see in our very own penitentiary system, there's hope for redemption with every monster, no matter how many people they kill or consume, or how much pleasure they appear to have in the process. After all, if a dog excretes on a fine rug, most people do not chase the animal into a windmill and burn it to the ground. Instead, we're taught to show the dog his excrement and let him know that it's the wrong thing to do. By keeping the verbal part of that process, I hope to condition these horrifying abominations to become full-fledged members of society and, God willing, teach these monsters to organically shove their faces into their own shit when they do something shitty.
On the other hand, if you are a monster and you are reading this, then I would like to formally welcome you to the first day of the rest of your life. Unlike people, you can trust this book. I have personally made sure the pages of this book were printed on an extremely expensive non-flammable, rubberized wax paper, free of silver, garlic, moondust, and any other harmful substances. I've also had every copy personally blessed by my good friends over at the Church of Satan, making this book 100 percent certified God-proof.
Now, that doesn't necessarily mean this book is safe in any way, as contrary to popular opinion, Satan and his minions can essentially possess anything, including monsters. In my research on monster culture, I've seen or at least heard unconfirmed reports of vampires, mummies, gill-men, dogs, cars, computers, air conditioners, and more things falling under demonic or satanic possession. And from what I can tell, it sucks and you would likely prefer not to have that happen to you.
It's hard enough to find a decent exorcist nowadays, let alone one willing to work on a vampire or a wolfman. Despite what you might see in films, the exorcism game is more or less a racket for the older members of the Catholic Church to retain employment and seem important. Most of the time, they don't even know where they are, and feel that reading a book and throwing water on someone whose brain is melting on the inside is God's will. Poor old bastards.
On that note, if you are a human reading this book and my motivational tactics do not dissuade any of your homicidal tendencies, I'd suggest you line every inch of your house with copies of this book. Therefore, any sins you commit in your residence, legal or otherwise, will escape the sights of the Almighty and give you full deniability at the pearly gates. It's a worthy investment for an eternity of reasonable doubt, and God's court is much more harsh than Earth court, believe you me.
Furthermore, if there are any monsters out there in service to the dark lord and want to even the odds, I wouldn't dissuade you from buying hundreds of copies of The I in Evil and leaving them in every hotel room you'd encounter. By pairing every Holy Bible, and in radical cases, the Book of Mormon, with a copy of this book, you'll be balancing religious equality in the lives of hundreds of thousands potential patrons of these hotel rooms. Also, if you want to buy even more copies and leave them in random mailboxes, I wouldn't oppose that action either, especially once monsters begin moving into nice neighborhoods.
I should also clarify that the random mailboxes in which you should be leaving my books should be in nice neighborhoods. These fucking things don't grow on trees, and outside of monsters buying this fucking book, I can't have books given out like charity to poor neighborhoods that can't pay it forward, emphasis on the word "pay." So get it together, monsters, and use your fucking brain(s) to sell me some more books.
But back to my monstrous friends, I'd like to thank you for taking the leap to better yourself. I can only imagine the suffering you've gone through from the years of insomnia, social anxiety, and residential displacement, as well as the suffering you've inflicted on others for reasons that frankly aren't my business. But by coming with me on this journey towards self-enlightenment, you are telling the world that you will suffer no longer. You are ready to look to the people around you and say, "I am Monster. Hear me literally roar."
Now, I'm not a fucking bullshitter, okay? If you wanted to be fucked around, or shit on, or have your shit fucked on, then I recommend you return this fucking book and pick up some Dr.-fucking-Phil shit. I'm here to speak the truth and to unfuck your shit, so leave your fucking shit at the fucking door and get your shit together before you fucking read the rest of this book, got it?
That said, I want you to know that I care about you. I care about the things you do and about the monster you are (or, if applicable, the person you used to be). I care about your future on this beautiful little orb we call Earth. And I especially care about preserving the goodness within you now and building on that goodness to achieve happiness.
Of course, the amount that I care about you also is somewhat dependent on what exactly you do to achieve that happiness. If your version of goodness is to drain an entire family of blood so no one is left to mourn, or to strangle a boat full of fisherman for profiting off of the death of a species, I can't necessarily support those acts. I could accept a vampire levitating someone across the street or a wolfman helping to round up loose sheep. Don't be too hard on yourself though. Any step away from eating their flesh is a baby step in the right direction, so if that leads you to happiness, I'm sure mankind will meet you halfway.
But in order for that care to mean anything, I need to know that the monster within you wants to change. After all, stubbornness isn't an innately human quality, and if my words are perceived as disposable by your rotten, abnormal brain, then they will be no good to either of us. You need to truly believe that the monster you are on the outside does not represent the monster you are on the inside. And hopefully, my words will help them meet in the middle, around your abdomen or solar plexus, probably.
Now, there is one universal truth I must address before I begin working with you monsters individually: you must let go of your grudge against mankind. That is your first internal obstacle, and likely the one that drives you towards your most unbecoming behavior. But for a second, imagine things from humanity's point of view: if you knew you existed, wouldn't you want to hunt you? Of course, you would.
If you could admit that you hate yourself more than you hate mankind, then the process of moving on and healing will become so much easier. My words are meant to reach your dried-up monster heart, and remove the scars that humans made on your vulnerable psyche. If you are ever to help yourself grow beyond your means and reach your petrifying potential, you need to allow me to reach you and help you change for the better. After all, this book is as useful to a monster who can't be reached or changed as a dick on a snowman.
Actually, there is also another universal truth worth addressing. Don't look up monster slash fiction on the Internet. There are some things even the darkest of souls should never bear witness to, unless that's your thing and the idea of gill-men sex gets you harder than Medusa's optometrist.
Oh, you know what? There's a third universal truth that I should share: no matter what, the ends justify the means. Whether shining the light of positivity and goodwill on the darkness of the underworld, or writing a self-help book to pay for the multitude of debts following a post-trial breakdown spending spree, the eventuality of results should serve as motivation enough to do any and all unethical, immoral, scandalous, disrespectful, violent, deplorable, reprehensible, reckless, antisocial, misanthropic, vicious, selfish, and malicious acts along the way. As kings, innovators, and people who exercise can tell you, the light at the end of the tunnel is all that matters, and whatever you do in that long, dark tunnel is fair game.
If you are a man-made creature, also known among humans as "Frankenstein's Monster," then I'd like to congratulate you. After all, with brains that are miswired or outright idiotic, reading a book of this capacity is as difficult as chasing a boat in the arctic on foot. Nevertheless, you are a prime case for behavioral repair and I hope my words can help elevate you from simpleton to charleton.(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The I in Evil"
Copyright © 2015 Ken W. Hanley.
Excerpted by permission of Skyhorse Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Chapter I: I Am Monster, Hear Me Literally Roar,
Chapter II: Stigma, Not Stigmata,
Chapter III: You Are More Than the Sum of Your Parts,
Chapter IV: Unwrapping the Mummy,
Chapter V: The Animal Inside,
Chapter VI: The Other Drinking Problem,
Chapter VII: Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Gill-Man,
Chapter VIII: Second Chances,
Chapter IX: The Broken Matches,
Chapter X: So You're Dead; Now What?,
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