Ahh, that time of year again. Not merely the holiday season, but also the yearly “Best of” lists and awards dispensations!

When I was still writing for music magazines and websites, now would be the time we critics would be asked to drop our annual Top 10 album lists. Sometimes we’d be asked for our top three or five individual category favorites (i.e. full bands, vocalists, guitarists, bassists, keyboardists and drummers, even record labels), but most of the time, we were asked for our favorite records of each year.

There was a certain bit of pressure when you received hundreds of promotional albums, videos and books and reviewed all that you could in a year’s time. Your rep was on the line according to what you dished on your annual Top 10. There was that grave risk of being labeled a poser if you went all mainstream, but on the flipside, you earned the trust of your readers if your list was loaded with deep dive records only the truly devout supported in the underground.

I stand on all the lists I was asked to whip up in my 16 years covering music, save for 2004. I still cringe at myself anytime I launch the album or “Blood and Thunder” roars to life on Sirius XM’s Liquid Metal. That year I errantly gave the pole position best album of ‘04 to Cradle of Filth’s Nymphetamine instead of Mastodon’s rumbling maelstrom, Leviathan. I still think Dani Filth and company dropped polished black metal gold, but Leviathan remains one of the all-time greatest metal recordings in the genre’s vaunted history. I shanked it giving Leviathan number two that year. I own it.

Siggghhhhh…

Well, I’m no longer called upon to pick the best of a year’s finest albums, and to be honest, I feel so out of it when I see current writers and fans dropping a slew of bands (take your pick of genre) that I have no clue about. I get my music largely through satellite radio since I’m not deep in the business and I seldom road dog anymore. My daily commute is a mere five minutes. It’s great for gas, total bullshit for the music consumption. Seriously, it’s disconcerting. I feel naked. I inadvertently feel like that poser I never wanted to be.

Then again, who the hell cares? I’m a horror author primarily now, so the only pressure I have on me is whatever I heap upon myself. Thus, with unnecessary caveats out of the way, I offer you all the added disclaimer when coming up with the categories and picks of my for-fun “Fab Five of ‘25” that I’m not that deep dive guy I used to be. Simply because the access is no longer there. Nor is the time. I’m writing, constantly. Reading or watching shows and films with my family when I’m not writing. Working out in the gym. I do a wild balancing act, to be sure.

Thus, what you see here is valid only to what I’ve been able to make the time for and pull into my radar. This is not an authentic Best-of listing of books, records, comics, films and t.v. shows. I ground out a lot with these categories, but I also shamefully missed a ton of stuff. In truth, with today’s expansive audile and visual streaming platforms, there is just too fragging much to stay on top of it all. Ditto for books and comics, which pains me to say as a writer vying for an audience as much as my brothers and sisters of the word.

So, enough of the self-flagellation. Let’s have at it with my Fab Fives of ‘25!

Books:

Now, I galloped my way through Joe Hill’s newest novel, King Sorrow specifically for this category, since the hype was massive and when it was gifted me last week in time for this favorites list, I got right on it. Keeping in mind I still have Clay McLeod Chapman’s Wake Up and Open Your Eyes in my TBR pile and Stephen King’s latest, Never Flinch on its way for Christmas from my dear friend Paulette (she’s gifted me every King book for Christmas since all the way back in 1983 beginning with Pet Semetary), this list is sorely remiss. Plus, I have my buddy T.D. Severin’s acclaimed medical thriller, Deadly Vision to knock out along with Richard and W.H. Chizmar’s expanded reissue of Widow’s Point. Patting myself on the back consolingly, I did get a lot of books knocked out this year, and here’s what I loved most:

1. Godzilla: The First 70 Years – Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski
2. The End of the World as We Know It – edited by Christopher Golden and Brian Keene
3. The Rack II – edited by Tom Deady
4. King Sorrow – Joe Hill
5. Thrift Store Puzzles – John Boden

Comic Books:

With recent price hikes and a forthcoming relocation to our new home, I’ve had to get somewhat stingy with my comic book pickups lately. It’s been a blast yakking about comics for my “Great Fraggin’ Life” newsletters, thus I keep searching for new titles to try and hopping back aboard existing properties which get sparkly lifeblood. I could easily flood this list alone with the horror comic anthologies, but let me simply give props to Creepshow, Hello Darkness and the EC/Oni Press reboots Epitaphs of the Abyss, Catacomb of Torment, Blood Type, Shiver SuspenStories, Cruel Kingdom, Cruel Universe and Outlaw Showdown. Horror comics in general are coming quite close to taking over the genre altogether. James Tynion IV alone is thriving as a horror comic scribe and 2025 was another gold standard year for him with W0rldtr33, Something is Killing the Children, The Deviant and one of my Fab Five picks for comics.

This has also been a banner year for Godzilla in comics as I find a comic starring King Green nearly every week in my pull box. When you have three different publishers (IDW, Marvel and DC) hammering out simultaneous titles, I mean, SKREEEEEONK!!! I’m gonna cut to the chase and give top ‘zilla honors to Van Jensen and Kelsey Ramsay’s Godzilla: Heist from IDW. Also stellar this year is DC Comics’ Absolute line. At first, I sneered at this initiative as a direct response rip on Marvel’s Ultimate line, which I dropped this year, except for Ultimate Black Panther, and that’s about to come to the finish line. The Absolute alterverse is for real, kids, and Kelly Thompson and Scott Snyder wrote what I consider the “absolute” triumphs of the year.

1. Absolute Wonder Woman
2. Absolute Batman
3. Exquisite Corpses
4. F.M.L.
5. Star Trek: Red Shirts

Albums:

Here is where I’ll ditch the spiel, since I feel like there’s an easy hundred albums from differing genres I missed out on this year. So I’ll merely drop my favorite new records of 2025. Two of which are soundtracks/film scores. I will say the only drama in this section came with my begrudgingly having to shoehorn the new Testament album, Para Bellum out of the running for Fab Five. This is a band which has enjoyed a far superior second career to a venerated first half. Testament Mark Two is one of the mightiest heritage metal acts out there. My top pick, that was a total no-brainer. The Deftones surpassed my expectations, and I’m an uber-fan. Private Music is their most sublime body of work ever, an incredible refinement of aggression and sensuousness. For me, Deftones remain one of the G.O.A.T.s of metal music, any generation. This is yet another legacy statement for the band. Perhaps the legacy statement.

1. Deftones – Private Music
2. Spirit World – Helldorado
3. Various Artists – Sinners soundtrack
4. Nine Inch Nails – Tron: Ares score
5. Orbit Culture – Death Above Life

Movies:

I got to many films this year and it’s been a pleasure having my kid with me for nearly all of them. It was a joy taking him to see the reissue of Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. As his favorite in the entire series, he’d unfortunately been born two years after its original run in 2005. It was my honor to give him the cinematic experience and the pleasure on his face, man, that’s what you live for as a parent, especially once they approach adulthood. Likewise, the 4K reissue of Shin: Godzilla was a total blast, no matter how many times I’ve watched my DVD of it (and twice before on the anime streaming platform Crunchyroll). The theater was a-rumbling for that one night only event, as it was for the new Superman film, which was superb. Especially Nicholas Hoult, who served us a newly iconic Lex Luthor and Edi Gathegi, who stole the show as Mister Terrific. We saw a few clunkers, but most of our movie excursions were fun, including Ballerina and Guillermo del Toro’s brilliant reimagining of Frankenstein.

Del Toro truly deserves to land in my Fab Five films, and I mulled over it to the point of exasperation, but the films which made the cut are just that damned good, masterpieces in their own right. As a publisher told me when passing on one of my submissions, the competition was just that fierce and a 9.5 effort was beaten out by 10s. 10-rated films that were genuine events.

1. Sinners
2. The Long Walk
3. Weapons
4. Fantastic Four: First Steps
5. Bring Her Back

T.V. Shows:

Here is where I feel utterly lost when it comes to keeping up with all that’s current and fashionably hip. It’s just too goddamn much and we have five streaming platforms on top of cable. TJ and I watch a lot of Midsomer Murders mystery reruns, paranormal shows, historical and ancient civilization documentaries and I turned her on to James A. Janesse’s riotous kill counting YouTube channel, Dead Meat. Those are just for starters. I am forever working on Shameless (I’m at season 5) and Breaking Bad (season 3) and for Cobra Kai’s entire run, I’ve had to strongarm everyone out of the living room to blast that sucker. Twice. Cobra Kai ended on a nifty note at the beginning of 2025, even if the theatrical Karate Kid: Legends was entertaining enough, but a shortcutting, over-with-too-fast cheat. Cobra Kai remains one of my drugs. I’m always spinning Zach Robinson and Leo Birenberg’s masterful genre bending scores.

I push TJ into trying a lot of the new streaming shows out there and we’ve had a number become recent addictions like Andor, Shogun, The Last of Us and Reacher, which were gangbusters in 2025. I was hooked by The White Lotus, but TJ was not, and instead we fell into what became our summer into fall project. If our tube was ruled by one show this year, it’s Dexter. As I have been selected to appear on a livestream panel in the new year focusing on the beloved serial murder series, we binged the entire Dexter canon from Original Sin through the eight-season main arc to this year’s mind-blowing Resurrection. Now that we’ve completed our Dex journey (I’d originally watched Seasons 1 to 4 of the main run before nixing our Showtime subscription years ago), my son is begging us to hop on to the similarly unnerving television adaptation of Caroline Kepnes’ You series. Future agenda, kid. Promise.

So here are my picks for all the television we binged this year, and I wish I could add the totally sick and stupendous animated gem, Predator: Killer of Killers. It’s a standalone movie, alas, but one of the goriest blasts of shit-kicking fun out there. TJ and I had a scream geeking out over this one with Billy Chizmar at this year’s Frightreads.

1. Dexter: Resurrection
2. Love, Death + Robots Season 4
3. Welcome to Derry
4. Alien: Earth Season 1
5. Eyes of Wakanda

I’m exhausted just thinking about all I’ve taken down in media this year. Being a glutton for punishment, I’m counting down the months into 2026 for Blade Runner: 2099. My life will go on complete standstill when each episode of that one runs next year. Don’t even get me talking about Blade Runner 2049, my second favorite film ever. I think I’m listed out for now.

—Ray Van Horn, Jr.

Gratitude check, 2025. There was a point earlier in the year where I hit such a rut to my self-esteem that I didn’t feel like myself. Everyone here knows I preach positivity, confidence, drive and wherewithal. THAT’s the Ray I always want people to see. Upbeat, chill, intrinsically driven, sometimes goofy and grinding in forward motion. That was an uncomfortably atypical slog through the doldrums we all face and it reminded me that, I like anyone else, am simply human. The defeats and every other overwhelming thing back then were enough to send me into a private hell where I needed to kick my own ass before my wife did likewise.

I’m grateful for the 180 reversal this year has brought me. I had so many turndowns and dead air blasts it felt like a collective trouncing. Then, as my wife gave me an Adrian Balboa-styled reality check, good things began to happen. A story accepted. Bringing in the Creeps coming out. Hot book sales at signing events. It was all the catalyst to my writing explosion September into October.

I spiked my networking, I gathered new friends into my tribe, which was already infantry sized. This is how I built a large rep in the music and film industries as a writer. As it did back then, things are happening. They’re building. I take so many pictures out there, especially with people, not because I’m trying to be an egomaniac nor a star-effer, but because a wise woman (my mother) said to me once that material things are nice, but pictures are your real treasure. An ongoing document of who you were, who are you are, the people you’ve loved and who make your life worth living. People who take the time to pose with you and share their essence for a sliver of time that it means everything down the road.

Yeah, I’m still taking a few turndowns, but my victories are piling of late, and I feel so damned good about myself and my friends and loved ones who keep my pulse throbbing. The wins are outnumbering the losses, and I have a handful of incredible news announcements to make for 2026 that I must wait until I’m at liberty to do so. I will have one biggie to share this coming Sunday, and I promise you’re gonna dig it.

I have my winter writing itinerary set with four new projects, one I’m about to wrap on this week. I already have the future release of October Rust to look forward to and I only hope to keep building upon this thing which is finally growing.

As ever, I’m grateful to my wife, TJ. She is my ultimate desire and my ferocious partner. The love she has shown me and my son is something you can’t appreciate unless you’re living it. Boyo is turning into such a good person after all the turmoil we sucked up for years. My stepkids are simply the best. What I lost in the way of friends and even family from my former life has been tripled and steered to me through TJ. For those of you who turned on me, I forgive but never forget you. Take that as you will. For those whom I may have hurt, I can only ask for your forgiveness.

Thank you especially to my brothers at The Metal Hall of Fame for picking me up and throwing a welcoming arm around my shoulder when the California no’s from an industry I served long and hard were just too much for even me to digest.

I thank my employers for giving me the means to survive and likewise, endorse a sense of brotherhood. You haven’t lived until you’ve been to an orthodox Jewish wedding, much less a bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah and I’ve been privileged to have been to all three. Shalom, my friends.

Thank you, all, for supporting my work, for being there when I need a voice or a set of eyes to lift my cause. Thank you to my expanding Substack family, my subscribers and followers. My newsletter is starting to boom. Thank you, HWA and MWA for advancing my mission by sharing my news, adding me to signing events, for connecting me to so many writers I can call friends. I especially appreciate getting my Moving Night piece accepted by the HWA. What a boost when it was greatly needed.

Thank you to the divine, who answer me, EVERY SINGLE TIME I call out or give my devotions.

So that’s enough of that malarkey. Over at Substack, I dropped a new post last night you may dig, where I chose 12 songs I’m grateful for. They’re mixed between punk, metal, rock and soul and a little bit of film scoring. Check it out using the link in the comments and hit a subscribe while you’re at it, if you please.

A wonderful Thanksgiving to you, my friends!

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

I had the chance to enjoy some meditation before the waves and I have two takeaways: One, waves come in varying shapes, curls and strength. Many look the same and it’s easy to take that for granted, but really, no single wave is the exact same as another. So too should we avoid generalizing as people.

Second, the ocean is unpredictable and has the propensity to shift directions with pushes and pulls. While swimming with the kid, the undertow was in direct conflict with the inflow. We found ourselves constantly pushing back to our target zone against rough currents nudging us astray. So it goes with the majesty of the ocean and it serves as parable to life. We can think we have all the sights lined up fluidly, but life and waves are subject to change and we must stand ready to react to those changes at will.

Photo by Ray Van Horn, Jr.

I’ve been champing at the bit to dive into this grab from Shore Leave since last Philcon where I moderated a panel on DC Comics movies and television shows and had Keith DeCandido and a stellar panel rockstar the whole thing. Easiest panel ever with that professional firepower.

At the panel, I’d spotted Keith’s copy of The Man Who Laughs, released by Crazy 8 Press, which not only houses some of the finest writers on the scene, but a Justice League of comic book writers and journalists. They flood this fantastic book with essays dissecting more than celebrating decades of the Clown Prince of Crime. The de facto supervillain most people peel from their mouths when asked for their favorite. Joker is certainly up there for me, though I am just as quick to answer The Scorpion from Spiderman, at least the bronze to early modern age era.

This book presents point and counterpoint for the definitive Joker in comics, films and cartoons (for me, Starlin writing, Ledger, Hamill and Romero), debates of sexuality and a historical overview of the Madman of Mirth’s exploits.

Also contributing to this crime clown’s compendium are legends such as Michael Jan Friedman, Aaron Rosenberg, Steve Englehart, Jo Duffy, Robert Greenberger, Rich Handley, Glenn Hauman, Bob Rozakis and many others. Keith’s essay on the Joaquin Phoenix Joker and connecting it to the Bernhard Goetz subway shootings in 1984 was my big “A-ha!” takeaway, considering I dwell on the fact it hiked from Taxi Driver. Jo Duffy positing the character has lost his fun and funny factor is spot-on. I am already chuckling at Zach Galifianaks’ outrageous “human farts” quote from the hysterical Lego Batman Movie in support of her point.

I am a comic book lifer and wannabe script writer whose love of Batman began with Super Friends and reruns of the Batman ’66 show, which I pulled out my ultimate Blu Ray box for a few dips into some BIFFS! POWS! and ZOWIES! Cesar Romero, man, ’nuff said.

Banging work here, Crazy 8 crew. Thank you, Keith, for hightailing to the dealer room to snag my copy during the Meet the Pros sesh.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

In my former life, we were often so broke I sold many of my material things to help pay the bills. Comic books, drum kits, percussion instruments and a baseball autographed by Baltimore Orioles legends I got to meet at a charity event in 1983, the last championship year. Cal Ripken, Jr., Gary Roenicke, Sammy Stewart, Al Bumbry, Jim Dwyer and my baseball hero, Eddie Murray. A magical day back then meeting the man. It killed me to sell that ball decades later and it remains the only thing I regret selling. You do what you’ve gotta do when the chips are down.

Today, fate delivered me an autographed Eddie Murray baseball through my beautiful parents. Feeling shell-shocked. Grateful is hardly the word to describe this. Thank you, Mom and Pop. Just wow.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

–Photo by Ray Van Horn, Jr.

This beautiful girl and I made quite the connection at the DC zoo. Everywhere I went around the pen, she followed me with her stare. I left and came back after 20 minutes, just to test a theory. There she was, in the same spot, sensing my approach and turning her head specifically to me, again smiling so wondrously. The other lionesses kept to themselves. Not this one. I didn’t feel like her next potential dinner. I felt the divine glowing all around her and channeling to me. Happiness is.

–Photo by Ray Van Horn, Jr.