Scott Nicolay

Its been many years since Scott Nicolay's first collection. This long in coming second collection was certainly worth the wait.
And At My Back I Always Hear contains several previously published pieces as well as some brand new ones.
Among those stories not previously published was, "The Anodizing Line". Taking place during a young man's summer job at a small town factory, this was the star of the collection. Others have called this possibly the best thing Nicolay has written, and while I've not yet read *everything* he's written its definitely among the best stories of his I have read. The realism, quality of writing, characters that easily to identify with or identify analogs of in real life, the creeping dread and strangeness of the employer itself is just...perfect. The more relatable horror of the protagonist's struggle with his implied and later outright stated sexuality as well as the all too real tragedy that later becomes of his life, are more unsettling than any of the Weirdness that ensues. Even the all too common in America horror of a town and its inhabitants so dependent on a single employer and what that can mean in their lives serves to connect this highly readable story to universal reader experiences. I would even say that this story alone would make it worth picking up the collection.
There is an integration of these sorts of commonplace, real world, horrors and monsters throughout most of the collection, in counterpoint to its more esoteric and weird horrors. The train hopping unhoused subject of "Tenebrionidae" has to worry about train bosses, other unhoused folks, food, and infection as well as the possible cultists pursuing him. "after"'s monster plays second fiddle to the specter of domestic abuse, rape, and the tragedy of economic and climate collapse, and ultimately is the only real threat that is resolved in any way. We see some of those same threats, as well as the simple threat that a real, complex, and flawed human being can pose in "Noctuidae". "The Croaker" reminds us of the all too everyday terror that we cannot change the past, or the actions we've taken there, and that somethings in addition to being unchangeable will always haunt us.
The final story in the collection, "The Always Rising of the Night", takes a turn into what at first feels almost like bizarro, but shapes up into a delightful tale that I can't properly characterize. It has its creeping threats, its aura of strangeness, and the sadness that can grow from the relationship parent and child...but despite the unresolved ending (a thing it shares with many of the other stories) it almost feels hopeful. The closure spoken of by its characters was something I felt as a reader, which is fitting for its place here.
The note at the end of "The Green Eye", which was enjoyable in and of itself, does a fantastic job of giving us a window into Nicolay's particular creative process. In particular, it addresses both a flaw I found in his first collection, but was happily absent here. Our protagonists throughout the collection are incredibly diverse in terms of background, current circumstances, gender, sexuality, etc. But in this note Nicolay embraces the fact that he puts much of himself into his characters. However, in this second collection I think he's done a more masterful job of drawing correspondences between himself and his characters, rather than then being simply reflections of him.… (altro)

Fedogan and Bremer put out high quality editions, from paper quality, to binding, to cover and interior art. This edition is no exception, so if you're looking to buy a physical copy take the opportunity to support a small, high end publisher (and check out some of their other collections while you're at it). The interior art is particularly well done and haunting. Its also important to point out that this is a collection of primarily novellas, rather than short-stories, just so the reader knows what they're in for when sitting down to crack it open.
The fact that Scott Nicolay's first collection was put out by such a fine publisher says something. As does his long reputation in the horror-lit and weird fiction community. However, I think those self-same connections to so much of the community may have skewed reviews a bit. Or maybe I'm the outlier, as I neither fall into the camp issuing glowing, unconditional praise, nor the much smaller camp (including S.T. Joshi) that really panned the book.
I think, as a first collection, its not a bad effort by any means. Overall, the quality of the writing is good, the stories are engaging, we get a good sense of place, and there's what feels like a lot of new (or at least underused) ideas and settings for horror. Like the great plains, until more recently the southwest, especially the modern southwest, felt like an underutilized setting ideal for horror and the weird and much of this collection is firmly grounded there. Exploring some indigenous myths and legends for the genre was also refreshing. After all, the region and some of its myth cycles, are things Nicolay knows a lot about, and things he knows, he knows very well. Unfortunately, I think that depth of knowledge in very specific areas worked both for and against him in this collection.
First, the foreward is written by a very well respected name in horror, both it and the afterward seem over the top in their fawning praise of Nicolay. While not included, both foreward and afterword also mention Nicolay's 'manifesto' (readily available online) as his guiding document in writing. The combination of the three, in a first printing/release of a freshman collection for an author who at the time had limited fiction publishing credits, feels really pretentious and off-putting. Unless you're already a fan of Nicolay, I'd heartily recommend you skip the foreward, afterward, and not go in search of his manifesto.
Beyond that, I'd say the largest failing is something to be expected in beginning authors, putting too much of oneself into one's stories. The protagonist in most of the stories is are very thinly veiled portraits of the author, most sharing his own avowed interests, specialties, and activies (spelunking, archeology, the culture of the high desert/new mexico region, & etc.). There even tend to be physical similarities. As I said, a sometimes amateur mistake, and one that likely would have gone entirely unnoticed and unremarked on had so many short stories suffering from it not been put side by side in one collection. The flip side is, of course, that Nicolay clearly understands these characters, their thought processes, and motivations very well. However, that pressed up against the repetitive nature of them, sets up a strange dichotomy where characters sometimes feel simultaneously like two dimensional tropes and complex, living characters. I have seen heard similar complaints from reviewers elsewhere regarding Nicolay's descriptions of many of his the female characters serving as love (or at least lust) interests. Nicolay definitley has a type, and it shows. Some of that I'm willing to chalk up to the demographics of many of the locales in which these stories are set, but even within that there is room for a great deal more variation than we're given. As above though, I don't feel either that or the student/teacher or mentor/mentee power dynamic that I've seen some reviewers balk at would be nearly as noticable were they not presented side by side in one book. I would also say that neither bothered me nearly as much as the issue with his male protagonists. I did think at one point that perhaps the repition was intentional, in order to set up the same sort of feel as the repeated language and themes in extended epic poems. I could imagine the same sort of rythmic feel as I would get sometimes in epics like the illiad or odyssey, though obviously not approaching that level of craft.
Perhaps unsuprisingly, I found the strongest and most effective stories to be those which broke as much as possible from the above issues, though none feel entirely free from them. "Geschafte" is particularly haunting and set in a foreboding urban environment. "The Soft Frogs" may bee subtle nod to Clark Ashton Smith's 'Mother of Toads' and is delightfully disgusting, disturbing, and fast paced. The longest story, "Tuckahoe" is perhaps the best, and gives us protagonists perhaps furthest from Nicolay himself, in the form of detectives and medical coroners. It was certainly the highlight of the collection in my eyes.
Don't get me wrong, there is plenty to enjoy here, and its definitely worth a read. Nicolay shows an extreme attention to detail without it bogging down his pacing. There's a lot of good representation of latinx and first peoples here that we don't see enough of in horror. I've since read other pieces by him in multi-author anthologies that I've very much enjoyed, and I'm definitely going to give some of his subsequent longer work a read. Just be prepared going in for some of the above.
… (altro)

I didn't know what to expect with this one - it's one of the books that somehow ended up in my kindle app and I couldn't remember why, so I didn't know anything about it before I started reading it except the cover. The story is told from the perspective of a child, which is pretty convincing. It's really eerie and I liked how nothing was really wrapped up or explained - it was just creepy. I remembered where I got it from after I finished; I bought a story bundle that was curated by Jeff Vandermeer so the great creepiness makes sense now! Will check out more from Nicolay.… (altro)