I’m not really big on tub-thumping but I’m gonna break with tradition today cos I figure I’m not really yada-yada’ing about me but rather I’m directing folks’ attention where it should go.

As you may have noticed, Lavie Tidhar’s Osama was fêted a few days back with the coveted World Fantasy Award for Best Novel. And rightly so. PS Publishing put out the hardcover edition last year and I guess we’re enjoying some of the reflected glory. That’s great. Feels good. People are now stopping me on the street and touching the hem of my garments. I like it. But the best part of it all is the flurry of orders we’re getting as a result of the Award. And I don’t mean by that the extra money that’s coming in but rather that a lot of people out there are thinking to themselves, hey, this book must be good: I’ll buy it.

Let’s face it: Lavie Tidhar is not a household name. Not yet, anyways . . . though, one day, that may change. And we’ve got other folks on our back catalogue: people like Tracy Knight (The Astomished Eye), Sebastien Doubinsky (The Babylonian Trilogy and the recent Absinth/Song of Synth double-header) and Elizabeth Counihan (Forests of Eden) . . . relative newcomers all, but immensely talented newcomers. And the Old Guard, too . . . people like David Case (Pelican Cay), Basil Copper (The Curse of the Fleers) and Ron Chetwynd Hayes (whose Best Of volume edited by Stephen Jones we’re aiming to put out next year).

I remember having a conversation with the late great John Brunner and his telling me that he couldn’t get arrested any more (he didn’t phrase it that way, but you know what I mean)—and that’s just crazy! The author of Stand on Zanzibar and The Sheep Look Up couldn’t sell his new work? This just should not be allowed. Bringing the story right up to date, the same goes for my good friend Ed Gorman, one of the very best short story writers around (check out ‘Render Unto Caesar’ or ‘The Long Silence After’ and you’ll see what I mean).

Well, if it’s left to PS—and to other small specialist presses such as Bill Schafer’s Subterranean and Rich Chizmar’s CD and, of course, Ray Russell’s Tartarus—it won’t be allowed. Thus it’s with great pleasure and pride that I announce that we’re scheduling big retrospectives of both John’s and Ed’s horror stories (John’s being compiled and edited by John Pelan). So let me draw your attention to the first of two links, both of which shower me and PS with lavish praise (I’ll mention the second link another time).

Like I said earlier, I love that . . . the praise bit. But I love it because maybe, just maybe, people will go as a result of that and try something hitherto unknown, take a chance on someone new, something that’s maybe just a little unsafe. That’ll make me a happy and fulfilled man. And if you buy me a beer next time we meet up, then we’ll be friends for life.