Saturday, April 24, 2010

Vicious Romantic Available Now!

For pre-order that is. Go to and grab a copy or two of my new collection of Asian-themed horror poetry, "Vicious Romantic"! This is my first poetry collection in almost twenty years. If you're a fan of horror and/or a fan of poetry, I really think you'll enjoy this one. If you're a fan of my writing I KNOW you'll enjoy it. my poetry pulls no punches just like my prose.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Yaccub's Curse

My long awaited novel of crime, poverty, race, and of course, horror is now out in both trade paperback and now in hardback from Necro books. So far it has been getting great reviews. Here are a couple of them:

From The Horror Fiction Review:

YACCUB'S CURSE by Wrath James White (2009 Necro Publications / 291 pp / tp)
Malik ("Snap" to his friends) is a street hustler who, along with his 2 best friends, eventually becomes one of the most feared gangstas in the ghetto. He's eventually hired by the most notorious pimp in the hood, Scratch, and his rep grows even more. All hell begins to break loose when Malik, under orders from Scratch, refuses to kill one of two targets . . . one the baby of a crack whore that Malik comes to understand may actually be the second coming of Christ Himself.
YACCUB'S CURSE reminded me of the film MENACE 2 SOCIETY with a latent supernatural undertone that begins to blossom during the action-packed finale. As is Wrath's style, this one's filled to the brim with over-the-top violence, plenty of philosophy and intelligent dialogue, and this time I found more suspense than in most of his previous works. The realistic characters and descriptions of ghetto life are quite grim, but are part of what makes CURSE so hard to put down. Kudos also for some intriguing discussion about race and class.
This is gangsta horror at it's most extreme; who else but Wrath could even throw some cannibalism into a 'hood tale yet keep it as serious as a shotgun blast to the face?
Highly recommended.

And from Hellnotes:

Hatred is one of the most potent of emotions. In Yaccub’s Curse, Wrath James White looks unflinchingly at antagonistic race relations in a horror filled urban universe. Hatred flourishes in this setting: Certainly between African Americans and Caucasians; but also, between gangs and between the powerful and powerless. There is a suggestion of a supernatural purpose behind the hate – a metaphysical means of maintaining the delicate balance of a vicious, vindictive status quo. The otherworldly premise is far less interesting than the excellent edgy atmosphere that the author establishes with a vengeance.

The story unfolds from the point of view of a suicidal gangster, Malick Black. Malick tells of his transformation into a cold blooded killer known on the streets as “Snap.” In a very astute portion of the novel, Malick partially blames a well meaning school teacher for the course his life takes. The teacher sees his intelligence, and notes his philosophical bent. She gives him some books, with existential themes and characters, to motivate him to read and reflect. The works, however, only solidify his negative world view. In his mind, they validate violence; there’s no point to life, anyway.

Much of the narrative is, indeed, about the reality of violence and Malick’s maelstrom of malice. It is punctuated by too many fight scenes. The story’s other excess is its theological ruminations and morality musings. Malick’s opinion of religion is reiterated several times, and his thoughts on the suffering of innocents are also often repeated.

What the author excels at is the ferocious, yet lyrical, way he attacks ambiance: “As the train made its way through and the depressed weather-torn houses with sagging roofs, rotting paint, and shattered windows loomed into view looking worse than the death camps at Auschwitz, the entire train would go silent. This was the roughest, poorest section of Philadelphia marked by hills of garbage, thigh high weeds, packs of soot covered children chasing each other through barren fields of rusted cars and occasionally shooting at one another, miniscule yards filled with trash and savage, half-starved mongrels chained to rusted fences that snarled at us as we rumbled past, and tired old men rocking on front porches while nursing bottles of wine and watching the crackwhores strut by them offering their withering and diseased bodies for less than the price of a happy meal.”

Wrath James White also pointedly employs the wisdom and wit of a wide spectrum of cultural-political movers and shakers; their words are used as quotes to head each chapter. The range of diverse voices includes rappers, Charles Baudelaire, Jean Paul Sartre, Mark Twain, and Aristotle. The quotation from Malcolm X is particularly powerful: “Be careful, be courteous, obey the laws, respect everyone, but if someone puts his hands on you, send him to the cemetery.”

Yaccub’s Curse is a controversial and combustive tale. The supernatural element alluded to briefly at the novel’s opening, and then picked up again much later in the story, can easily be construed as simple allegory. It is of secondary relevance to the up front, no holds barred, futility of a harsh homegrown hell. The devastating erosion of a people; their economic entrapment and enslavement is the core and crux of the novel. Stark sorrowful suffering, without the promise of release, is the hardened heart of horror.

Here's what some of my fellow authors are saying:

"Deeply disturbing in a way that only the most honest stories are, YACCUB is a fiercely written, daring journey through America's urban wilderness and into the souls of our forgotten brothers. But Wrath James White hasn't forgotten about them--and after reading this book, neither will you."

-- Brandon Massey, author of THE OTHER BROTHER

"Wrath James White weaves an intricate, controversial tale of extreme horror set against a realistically bloody urban backdrop like Boyz in the Hood on steroids!" --LA Banks

“Yaccub's Curse deals with racism and race-relations with a raw, intense honesty that I haven't seen in horror fiction (be it subtle or extreme) in quite some time.”

-Brian Keene author of Castaways, Urban Gothic, and The Rising.

Yaccub's Curse is available at or at

Friday, April 09, 2010

I Like Big Girls

Most of my life I struggled to avoid becoming a stereotype. I didn't talk in slang. I didn't smoke weed or sell crack. I didn't have rims on my car and sub woofers that rattled every window on the block. I actually read books, not a magazine, not the sports page, but real books. I didn't eat pig's feet or chittlins. I was never in a gang. I never went to prison. I didn't blame the white man for all the ills of the world. I never took a Muslim name. I was an absolute individual. All that has changed now. I have found out something about myself that places me firmly within the black male stereotype.

I have always said that I don't subscribe to the popular standards Americans have of what a beautiful woman is. I have blogged about how disgusted I am with the modern female standard of beauty and how damaging I think it is to a woman's self-esteem. I have said that I have no preference when it comes to a woman's physical appearance. I like women of all shapes and sizes. I was wrong. I do have a preference.

I was standing outside of Lane Bryants the other day and I found myself staring long and hard at the models whose photographs adorned the walls. It surprised me because I don't usually think much of models. They're pretty but I seldom find them sexy. These women however, were sexy as hell. I couldn't stop staring at them. I actually walked into the store and found myself in the lingerie section ogling the posters of the models in nighties and bras. Yeah, I'm kind of a dirty old perv. But they were the sexiest, most attractive models I had ever seen... and they were all plus-sized models.

There was a Dove advertisement in a women's magazine the other day at the doctor's office. The women in the ad were amazingly attractive. I was literally drooling over the photo. They had large breasts and thick thighs and big round butts. Once again, they were all plus-sized models and they were fucking jaw-dropping gorgeous. Then it hit me. I do have a type. I don't like all body types equally.

I like big girls.

It's not that I appreciate a curvaceous woman as much as a slender model type. Slender model types don't really arouse me at all unless there's something about their personality or the way they carry themselves that attracts me. But when it comes to pure physical attraction I like my women plus-sized. What a revelation that was.

I never wanted to be one of those black guys that chase chubby women. I never wanted to be the guy that slender beautiful black women looked at in disgust because they had a large white woman on their arm. But I have to admit that those extra pounds my wife gained after giving birth to our daughters has only made her more attractive in my eyes. Not that my wife is a heavyweight. She is far from it in fact. But what I realize now is that if she was, I wouldn't mind. I'd fucking love it. I am now, despite all my efforts, a stereotypical black man. How did this happen? And where is all the good chubby porn?