Peter Straub

I remember seeing copies of Ghost Story in bookstores and on racks in supermarket shelves. It was incredibly popular. In my worldly manner I dismissed it as populist tripe. A scary equivalent of Danielle Steel and Sidney Sheldon.

I saw the movie when it came out. I liked it, but certainly didn't love it. There are marvelous things about the Ghost Story adaptation. The performances of the older lead characters, for one thing. As a representation of the novel, the film is a dismal failure.

Jump forward a few years, and I was a newly indoctrinated horror fiction fan. After racing through all of Stephen King's books, I read Danse Macabre. From there I proceeded to read all of the book recommendations King made. Starting with Ghost Story.

Oh boy, was I wrong. Ghost Story was a revelation to me. I loved, and will always love, the early King publications, but Ghost Story was something else. I had never read anything like it. I felt it was the best, the very best, book I had ever read at that point.

Hello, Peter Straub. It was magnificent to make your acquaintance.

From Ghost Story I immediately read Shadowland and then Floating Dragon. I felt each was better than the one before it. Astonishing good writing. Scary, literate, intoxicating. Plus he could be damned funny.

I went back and read Julia and If You Can See Me Now. I'm no slouch either. I even read Marriages and Under Venus.

Peter Straub was and always will be the very best horror writer. Better than King, better than Matheson, better than Lovecraft. Not everyone will agree, of course.

Straub's fiction requires effort. Intense concentration. He isn't easy and his fiction is usually a lot of work. I've always subscribed to the maxim that the greater the effort, the greater the reward.

I've read them all. I was disappointed a few times, but that was my inadequacy. Peter Straub always delivered to readers who were able to keep up with him. It seems there are fewer each year able, or willing, to do it.

Many know him from his collaborations with Stephen King. I love The Talisman and Black House, but neither book represents the best from either author.

I got off work today and heard that Peter Straub had died. It isn't exactly shocking. I knew he wasn't in the best of health. I was surprised though, and dismayed.

I never met Peter Straub. I always wanted to, but it never happened. I still feel as though I lost an important figure in my life. Straub inspired me. He captivated me and moved me. His work stimulated my brain. He filled me with dread. He made my heart soar.

I was hoping for one more book. Rumor had it he was working on a Jack the Ripper novel. It was excerpted in a small volume called The Process (is a Process All Its Own). Unless he happened to have finished it, which I doubt, I suppose we've seen the last of Peter Straub's work.

What I'd like to do is walk away from my day job. Time is something I am sadly lacking. I'd like to jump into the Straub binge to end all Straub binges. I'd like to run through the novels, the short stories, and the nonfiction. There isn't much I don't have.

I have a challenge for anyone reading this. Halloween is just around the corner. Look up a copy of Peter Straub's "Pork Pie Hat". It's one of his most accessible works and a perfect novella for the pumpkin season.

Goodbye, Peter Straub.

Written by Mark Sieber