Once in a while, you need to just take yourself out on a “you” date. I haven’t done this since doing my final Spartan at Fenway Park, Boston, last year. This time, I got to commune with my patroness, Sekhmet and bury myself in Egypt while taking in art at the Walters Art Museum, which I used to hit three to four times a year.

The museum renovations are spectacular. There are two separate wings dedicated to Egyptian art and artifacts and a sectioned-off study room for the public to sit in quietly and get a deeper look at some of the museum’s curated pieces. It was here I was first drawn on the hunt for Sekhmet. She threw me an omniscient thread where to find her in a peaceful, meditative spot before I went to the two main Egypt wings. Special thanks to the Walters security who saw me deeply immersed in the Egyptian deities and brought me a stool so I could read the low-lying placards and have a deep, personal moment with the goddess.

The Walters has long housed one of Baltimore City’s leading collections of Old Master, Renaissance, Byzantine, Flemish, Dutch, Baroque and Rococo paintings and sculptures. I dove back into the Christian triptychs, La Pietas and Madonna and Childs ad nauseum I’ve known all my life and felt a lost piece of me restored.

It seems, by my eyes, the Walters has doubled their treasures, though I found my old favorites where they’ve always been. Switched around, maybe, but still aesthetically appealing and as a horror author, I’ve been long drawn to a specific gory painting which has been a gallery staple for decades, Trophine Bigot’s visceral “Judith Decapitating Holofernes.” Having veered off my usual path lines from the past due to the new additions, I found Judith doing her dirty work towards the end of my run.

Before the Christian Madonna and Child, there was Isis and baby Horus. Food for thought.

An impromptu fire alarm at the Walters chased us out of the gallery for a bit, so I got to go connect with my roots at Baltimore’s Basilica of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the oldest in America. I used to go here to pray and meditate on lunch breaks when I worked downtown ages ago. I also took my ex-wife here to a Christmas Eve mass and participated in the Stations of the Cross.

I figure the fire alarm was an act of divine intervention, a well-intended fight for my attention amongst the deities whom I give adoration to, including Jesus Christ. I feel like Jesus wanted His moment with me, since the Basilica is a mere two blocks away from the Walters. I was overcome by the moment and sat for twenty minutes amidst the splendor and the church keyboardist getting in some practice licks on a harpsichord. I paid my due respects and marveled at the engulfing inner dome, much as I ever did years ago.

After my Walters and Basilica excursion, I took down a couple of pints at Union Craft Brewery, which was pumping. Having become one of Charm City’s crown jewel operations, what I dig about Union, aside from the reliably gnarly beers, is the fact the entire staff are unified owners in the place. Hence the “Union Collective” signs you see around town. They split all gross tips from a day’s take amongst the whole lot of them. You gotta love it, as much as I loved the seasonal IPA, Lot Trees, they have for Christmas, and their trusty winter stout, Snow Pants.

My final landing was the new Silent Night Deadly Night film, which is absolute garbage, pun intended. It honors a few moves from the original but does its own thing. I hated the Dexterising of this thing with the internal voice guiding our Billy, and it was just a dismal experience for me. I’m surprised the extreme right hasn’t torpedoed this thing yet for the Neo-Nazi massacre scene, and that’s all the spoiler I’ll give. I know the new Santa slaughter film has a lot of supporters in the horror community and more power to alla yas with respect. For me, four ridiculous sequels and now two whatever remakes? Enough already! I assure you this one will never make the cut on my annual slash ‘n wrap tradition. OG SNDN all day.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

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I’ve been asked a number of times for my memoirs writing in the music and film industries (three times in the past two weeks now), and I hesitate on it, and yeah, I had a life doing it. It was grueling on top of exhilarating. I met so many famous artists and film people, hung backstage and on tour buses all the time, met up with people you’d know in bars to do an interview (Testament will always be my quasi brothers for them telling me to say I was in the band and they backed it up when our server asked if I was, lol) but seriously, so many other writers had bigger and more noteworthy experiences than I did. I just happen to be goddamned proud of what I accomplished in 16 years serving the industry.

I’ve sat in the presence of artists who used to adorn my bedroom walls as a teenager, such as Geoff Tate, former vocalist of Queensryche, as you can see above. I had dinner with the man, and he bestowed me so many lessons about the music industry I’ll always be grateful for. I’ve made many friends in the music industry from the bands to the record labels to publicity firms. I’ve had a lot of joy traveling on the road covering music and enjoying philosophical conversations with artists and their fans in secretive parking lots.

I’ve been given more than a beer or two from my interview guests who’ve generously turned the tables and welcomed me into their circles. I’ve been invited to showcases and all the amenities that come within. I’ve even been treated like royalty at a few venues, smiling at whispers of “Holy shit, it’s Ray from Blabbermouth in the house!” floating behind my ears. I was invited to go on tour with bands a few times, including Germany, but I couldn’t come up with my flight money, because, ironic plot twist, my life was such a struggle then.

Iron Maiden will always be my favorite heavy metal band of all-time. The time I got to interview Nicko McBrain was a dream come true for me. As I mentioned, my room as a teen was filled with heavy metal bands, Iron Maiden being the biggest go-getter on the walls. Nicko was a freaking scream to interview and when we were finished, he apparently enjoyed my company enough to tell me to get on the band’s guest list for their tour in support of A Matter of Life and Death. Sure enough, I was on the list for a photo shoot, dead freakin’ center, arena-ville, baby. I’ve done plenty of arena gigs, but this was the most meaningful to me for obvious reasons.

The un-fun sidebar to that adventure came with having to leave the arena early and getting stalked by a local gang looking to jack me in Camden, NJ on my way back to the parking garage. I had to get crafty ducking behind cars, shifting up and down levels through the stairwell until I navigated back to my truck and slipped out of there. Scary stuff.

To the good, that Maiden interview footage and photos I got from the show were for Caustic Truths magazine but now appear in Martin Popoff’s Maiden tome released this year, Hallowed by Their Name: The Unofficial Iron Maiden Bible. I’m over the moon with this.

I once battled Metallica’s Master of Puppets against Megadeth’s Peace Sells…But Who’s Buying and had the stones to argue my way for Megadeth as the winner. Some people thought I was insane, others congratulated me. It was a spontaneous post I wrote in a fever pitch one night and it ended up being read by the editors of the illustrious Metal Maniacs magazine, who promptly offered me a freelancing position. Some of the finest times I enjoyed in the industry and I love you to death, Dave and Liz Brenner. What an incredible time we had closing down that Irish pub in Times Square with Tim “Ripper” Owens’ side band and the Irish national soccer team!

Winning “Best Personal Blog” from industry-renowned Metal Hammer magazine in 2009 for my former blogsite, The Metal Minute was the most flattering form of validation I’ve ever experienced in my career. My traffic there spiked triple. Thank you always, Metal Hammer, mad love.

I had an interview with the late Dave Brockie, aka Oderus Urungus of Gwar, on the band’s bus at the Sounds of the Underground festival in 2006. Dave was out of his costume but still in character as he gave me the most ridiculous interview of all-time, where he offered to sodomize me and laced out every profane word in the dictionary. He wound his hand at me to keep going after I was busy cracking up, knowing he was going to veer off-course from my questions. I shot from the hip and it was the funniest interview I’ve ever conducted. After I shut my tape off, Dave invited me to stay for barbecue. I hung out with Gwar’s stage minions (who happened to be area guitarists on the side) and chowed down! Sidebar: thanks to In Flames for giving me water earlier in the day when I was on their bus interviewing. On a summer festival tour at four bucks a pop for water, that meant everything!

I’ve interviewed half of System of a Down and it was the ultra-intelligent Serj Tankian who really won me over. I had a small audience in attendance while I conducted the interview with Serj, and they were likewise impressed. Afterwards, Serj’s press rep emailed me back to say Serj thought so highly of my questions and he asked for my response to his own question. That answer remains between us.

I was there when Trivium were 18 year olds banging it out like they had more to prove than anyone, opening for Iced Earth. I’d been so moved by their gutty performance, I found Matt Heafy and Corey Beaulieu in the venue parking lot and I approached both of them, telling them Trivium would rule the world. I was that certain of it. I was proven right. Look at them now. I think of it every time I listen to Matt’s “Chaos Hour” on Sirius XM’s Liquid Metal. I ended up interviewing Matt and Corey a few times after that terrific impromptu brodown through their first three album cycles and there’s no band I’m prouder of for their massive achievements.

I’ve had two interviews with Killing Joke vocalist (possibly the smartest, most literate human being on the planet) Jaz Coleman. Both were long, intriguing and frankly, intense, just like the band’s music. Jaz is for real, folks, and it was our second interview backstage at Union Transfer in Philadelphia where I was flat-out humbled. We got on famously and Jaz gave me a slew of compliments to my questions. He then invited me to stay longer, and he produced his personal writings for me to read, right there. I don’t think I’ve ever been more flattered in my life.

Karyn Crisis and the Crisis band. One of the fiercest singers of our time, Karyn Crisis is one of the most delightful, pensive intellect-artistes I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. We’ve had wonderful interviews and even better private conversations. I became friends with her and the defunct Crisis band after a hilarious misunderstanding. Let’s just say I was confused with an asshole groper who’d accosted Karyn and I was challenged by the band to a duke. Karyn defended me by pointing out the real offender and we’ve been laughing about it ever since. The conversations I’ve enjoyed with Karyn, Jwyanza and Afzaal about civil rights will always stick with me.

I interviewed Anthrax vocalist Joey Belladonna shooting pool, Scott Ian and Frank Bello in other memorable sessions. I interviewed Rob Halford, KK Downing and Glenn Tipton while all three were still together in Judas Priest, three of my all-time favorites. Rob is a king who acts like he never wears a crown. A complete gentleman who made me smile telling me he was off to his niece’s violin recital after our chat. Ronnie James Dio was the only guest I had to swallow my inner geek and get into the game and he was a treasure. David Coverdale, another gentleman who told me he appreciated my opening the floor to a lengthy time to discuss his time in Deep Purple before blasting to the stratosphere in Whitesnake.

Dee Snider of Twisted Sister was a such a hoot and the greatest guest you’ll ever land. He’ll cover your itinerary in a fell swoop and with such grace and humor. I landed my short-time gig doing interviews for his House of Hair Online after we had two fantastic chats. Rob Zombie, the ultimate pro. On the dime with time, he nails his answers to the sheets. Alice Cooper, the sweetest man out there. He recorded a greeting for my old buddy, Matt, who is an uber-fan. Uncle Alice treats his fans better than anyone, bar none. The late Kevin Dubrow of Quiet Riot gave me two interviews over two evenings filled with the sordid truth about his time, and also a memorable stretch talking about Randy Rhodes. The latter footage was gobbled up by Metal Maniacs for a special feature. Kevin sadly died a few months after we spoke. I was greatly shaken up by that, same as when I was offered a chat with Enuff Znuff drummer Ricky Parent, who was in his final weeks of cancer and still gave me time because he wanted to.

My interview with former David Lee Roth guitarist Jason Becker was an act of courage on his part. Fully paralyzed, Jason used the retinal response technology that was just developed to answer my questions. I was nearly moved to tears.

I’d been doing interviews already for a personal project, cold contacting famous metal and hard rock legends of the Eighties when those styles took a temporary nap. The industry got wind of me and pulled me in, thus for my first professional gig, I drew the late Great White singer, Jack Russell. A week after Great White’s Rhode Island tragedy. This was my baptism and I knew I was under the microscope off-the-bat. I wasn’t going to “go there” with Jack even before his press agent and my editor warned me not to bring up Rhode Island. I constructed my interview with avoidance of the topic and Jack thanked for me it, then stated he wanted to comment on it and agreed to stand on his words. It won me tremendous favor in the industry and instantly, I became in-demand.

So yeah, I have some neat stories (the time I was rushed onto Slayer’s tour bus to shoot a hit-and-run five minute interview with Dave Lombardo and said hi to the late Jeff Hanneman, who was strumming along to Zeppelin with a hundred lit candles around him on the bus is a visceral memory), but I was also privy to a lot of sensitive moments and information my eyes and ears beheld. The debauchery you see typically locked to the music scene was shielded from me more often than it wasn’t. Artists during my time were frequently more guarded and sensible about whatever their private lives entailed, whereas during the 1980s, bands FLAUNTED their excesses like it was heroic.

I have a lot of things I consider off-the-record and as a man of my word to those who had me on board as their guest and things either got nutso or artists trusted me with their deepest (sometimes dirtiest) secrets, I always said to their faces “I’m considering this off-the-record, just so you know,” or I would if ask them blatantly if they stood on a potentially controversial comment. I would then ask the same of their publicist as my failsafe. A few times I was given the green light by all to print, but whenever I felt it hurt the integrity of the artist, I chopped it from my final transcript regardless.

Thus, I could fill a book with all kinds of insanity, but I refuse to sell out those folks who gave me their confidence, even using an alias. They would know, and my honor means more to me. The biggest sentiment I would ever put into a memoir is that I worked a full-time job and did all of my deeds in the music and film industry on the side. I got an average of three hours of sleep a night to do all that I did and could have died one night falling asleep behind the wheel after back-to-back gigs between New York and Virginia where I did heavy driving.

I was piss broke and not everything about it was glitter and gold. There were tough moments to gnaw through, but I WENT for broke in that industry and I’m damned proud of my accomplishments and essentially devastated that, save for a number of close publicist, record label, writer and band friends from that time, it’s been a cold lockout. When I had to step down, I was out, and I mean out. Forgotten, dished the California nos like expired caviar. Yet I don’t hurt as much as I did, not since the Metal Hall of Fame came and collected me and my horror writing is starting to build.

You never know, since I have a ton of other stories to tell from my time writing for music and film, but for now? I don’t think so, but I’m flattered by people taking such an interest in it and thank them all. Hopefully this satiates your curiosity some.

—Photos and words by Ray Van Horn, Jr.

Some of the wisest advice I’ve ever been given, and it was issued to me twice while I was a music and film journalist. It came from a publicist friend and one of the members of a band I interviewed, and I take it deadly serious: You are always being watched, no matter the distance. Life is your stage and you’re always on, whether you think you are or not, so strive to be on your best game at all times.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

Over the long weekend, I had two writing project pitches accepted for 2026. I will be working with Nascent Night Press, who liked my story “Heads are Gonna Roll” as a bridge to doing a full collection of metal-horror stories in the new year.

I will also be writing a novella, “Saved by Zero” for Whisper House Press, the same fine folks who brought you my “Bentalou Crush” story for the Dread Mondays anthology.

“Heads” had received a pass only a week before it was accepted by Nascent Night, while “Saved by Zero” was originally a failed novel I wrote years ago, which I am keeping the original’s opening chapter, title and the air of murder while now rebranding it as a full horror story. Try as I did with a literary agent friend (whom I would still love to work with) who mentored me back then, I never got it right and I shelved it for a long time. Until now.

The message I hope to pass here is, when it comes to your endeavors, have the guts to keep pushing to other avenues when you get a turndown. Good things can happen. If they don’t, put it aside for a bit, look for things you may have done wrong, shelve it for another day when, after you have it to your absolute best, someone who believes in you tips the branch your way.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

Here’s some news we’ve been champing at the bit (pun intended) to share, now that we are at liberty to do so. TJ and I have both been accepted into a new zombie anthology, Living Adjacent, edited by S.M. Sykes. My story, “Shred of the Dead” and hers, “Cakes, Corpses and Calamity” will appear amongst other author contributions in an anthology focusing on genre-bending, uncanny, speculative, off-kilter new legends of zombie lore not yet conceived by Hollywood.

When TJ and I were just friends back in 1999 and pushing each other’s writing, we landed two original Darth Maul stories at a long-ago Star Wars fan fiction site. Back then, we kept daydreaming about landing together in a more legit publication. When we got together nearly five years ago, we kicked that notion back up and finally, we’ve made it happen! More details about Living Adjacent to follow next year.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

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It’s been quite the week, my friends. Just getting home from an incredible time at Philcon 2025, another memorable milestone for me being on six panels and moderating Godzilla, which was a tremendous success, especially having some rock stars on my team. I brought a handful of free Godzilla comics as a giveaway to the panel, and they were claimed in seconds. Made my heart feel all SKREEEONKY inside!

I had such a blast with my fellow panelists all weekend and was pleased to see many of the same attendees hopscotching to our panels themed on horror and comic books. James, looking at you, sir. You were at half my panels and if I was in an elevator, so were you. Thanks for buying my books, literally based on an elevator speech, lol. A few other conventioneers I wish I’d gotten to know your names, but I loved seeing your faces over and over. Especially to the well-attended 10:00 p.m. panel for Horror Through the Ages last night, y’all are rockers!

Suffice it to say, getting to hang with the incomparable Mia Dalia and her spouse, Chelsea all weekend was extra special and with my wife joining us, we’ve become quite a set of musketeers. TJ feels Mia and I have long been pals in numerous past lives and this Philcon showed that, even with my ordering wings during our hangout in the hotel bar and just learning she’s a vegetarian. We simply roasted one another in good spirits and mugged it up for the camera before getting into some deep, meaningful commiserating.

An amazing horror author in her own right, Mia has become one of my dearest friends since we met at Philcon last year. We’ve been cheering each other on, and Mia has been doing ad work and graphic design for me. Mia is ON FIRE right now, landing one story or book after another over the past few months. She is that good and I am that proud of her.

I brought Mia some King Green merch I’d saved for months, and in turn, she one-upped me by gifting me this rad Godzilla print, inked and signed.

Friday night was a total, trash talking riot with David Simms and the ladies. Turns out David and my co-panelist Richard Dansky are total music heads, which made our conversations that much more fun. Richard is a deep dive kinda person I really valued working with on Horror Through the Ages and Horror Comics.

Happy to see so many friends and friendly faces on top of gaining new comrades from the panels and all over the convention. Terrific time paneling and reading with Glenn Hauman, and working with Avi Ezor, Zack Be, Orenthal Hawkins, Kim Kindya and Dan Persons. Always happy to see you, Melody Cryptid, Hildy Silverman, Aaron Rosenberg, Danielle Ackley-McPhail, Keith DeCandido and Wrenn Simms. Anne Hande, nearly everywhere TJ and I landed, there you were and we just kept picking up one awesome convo after another. Carol Gyzander, we had brief engagements, but our paths crossed many times, and I must simply say, RESPECT.

I sold a few books during the autograph session and had fun yammering for the hour with Errick Nunnally. The only thing bought at the con this year was after placing a bid on a gorgeous print of Goddess Sekhmet, my incredible wife surprised me by snatching it for me when I won that auction.

Special props to my wife, who is the ultimate secret weapon. We treated Philcon as a kinda-sorta date weekend when I wasn’t on panels, even sneaking out to my favorite brewery in the country, Yards inside Philly. Even TJ raved on their wine and grub. TJ was my photographer, my Bringing in the Creeps street teamer, my customer wrangler. She took to my friends and vice versa and this is most definitely a con to remember. Thanks to Lynati and Melody for giving me such a big role at Philcon and of course, Hildy Silverman for pitching me last year when they opened up to horror people.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

ACCEPTED! I am proud to announce my new paranormal horror novel, October Rust has been accepted for publication. I will once again be working with Anuci Press for release in April, 2026.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

Now out, my erotic vampire story, “Initiate,” appearing in the X is for X-Rated volume of A-Z of Horror by Red Cape Publishing. Suffice it to say, mature audiences only. Available at Amazon.

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.

As a teaser to my horror collection, Bringing in the Creeps, from Anuci Press, I offer you a quickie story which was also awarded a runner-up nod by Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine for their “Mysterious Photograph” contest.

“The Cleansing of the Soles”

From Bringing in the Creeps by Ray Van Horn, Jr.

The Givenchy sneakers clumped around the drier’s rotating drum like the rumbling floor toms from Manic Augustinians drummer Shay McDaniels. A band no doubt reconsidering their lyrical huckstering of self-deprecation and suicide after tonight’s meet and greet of death.

Sha-shunk-a-thunk. Repeat pattern.

I was missing Donna three months after her curt parting. Senselessly longing for her bickering over my accumulation mania. “Hoarding,” she’d called it, always to set me off.

I seized those shoes the minute fate drove them my way amidst the adrenalized turmoil murder brings. Shucked and scattered somehow. An untagged forensics exhibit, all mine.

The blood was problematic.

The pricey kicks belonged to Manic Augustinians guitarist, Marc Roberson. Late as of five hours ago.

Listening to the groaning fan and repetitive banging of those shoes, I’m sitting cross-legged in front of the machine, relishing the hot air massage. It casts the first aura of triumph I’ve enjoyed since forever.

I’m fanning through a crate filled with handwritten set lists I’ve poached over the years. I got another one for the collection tonight, though I’d hoped for Roberson’s autograph at the band’s bus. Maybe a selfie.

Impossible to get either of those now, the rear parking lot then filled with the arresting canvas of shock dashed by twirling police cherries. The lookee-loos ushered away from Marc Roberson’s shivved corpse. The cuffed and giggling culprit covered in crimson, claiming he did it as “the band’s ultimate fan.”

Hardly the first time I’ve plundered treasure from a dead rock god.

Grab your copy of Bringing in the Creeps at Amazon or your favorite online retailer. Also available digitally at Kindle, Nook and Kobo.

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Order Bringing in the Creeps here

—Ray Van Horn, Jr.