Writer. Filmmaker. Editor of Psychos. Horror legend. Once (and future?) Splatterpunk King. Really, really weird dead guy in a lost sequence from Clive Barker's Nightbreed. What else can one say about John Mason Skipp?
Well, for one thing, he's a helluva nice guy. And a man of boundless energy and enthusiasm. I've met John at a few conventions, and you can't help but catch a little of his lightning if you hang out with him. There's just something about the guy that pushes past the ordinary. He's like some secret creation a bunch of rogue Disney imagineers cooked up in the late fifties, one that escaped the lab and has been operating off the grid ever since.
Plus, he's one of the nicest guys in the business. I know, it's a cliche to say that, but it's true. I took the picture of Skipp that's posted above at a World Horror Convention several years ago. Came out kind of arty, and John liked it a lot. He asked me if he could use it. Every now and then it pops up around the net, and on an occasional bookjacket. That's okay by me.
The picture itself? An accident. I had a new camera. Didn't know how to work it. Inadvertently turned off the flash. Pow. Instant streamlined headlight-flowing-electric-neon artiness.
I guess I was bound to get lucky with a camera once. It's like the old saying about monkeys and typewriters. Lock a hundred of them in a room with a hundred typewriters, sooner or later one of them will write "Hamlet."
Of course, I'd be more worried about said roomful of monkeys cannibalizing those typewriters for spare parts, making weapons, and going Planet of the Apes on our asses.
But that's just me.
