In the winter of 1997, I was out with my friend at Pacific Street, a leather/Levi bar, when I discovered the disturbing story of Elmer Wayne Henley. It was a weeknight, and the bar was sort of dead, so we went outside to the back patio and ran into this older guy, a local painter, who was smoking a joint. Stoned, he ranted about an upcoming exhibit of serial killer art at his gallery. The backstory was wild. He talked about how another teen, David Brooks, lured Henley to meet

How the true crime genre influenced Summer 1973 by Dean Cade.

Costumes and makeup effects have always been a part of Halloween for me. In the 1970s, when I was a kid, my mom would get me one of the...

Lost Angels , a work of flash writing, is an important part of my writing journey. The title is a reference to an amazing 1989 film about...

Movies have always been a part of my life. I grew up as an only child and loved escaping through film. My passion was horror, but I...

By the end of the 1980s, the punk scene had died out, so I returned to the metal scene. I was old enough to get into clubs but not drink...

Life can change in only a few seconds. I was 19 when I had my second car wreck. The first was when I was 16. Chased by the police, I...

I grew up raised by my mother, an only child. I was a latchkey kid who rebelled into a wild teenager for many reasons. She did the best...

I used to be a punk teenager with anger issues who loved destroying things, breaking them, or burning them. I had so much pent-up energy...

Who the fuck am I? I guess that is my existential question. I feel like I know myself pretty well, although time has definitely changed...