David B. Silva passed away earlier this week at the age of 62. While I’m certain the details of his passing will be a matter of public record, out of respect for his loved ones, I’m not writing about them here. Instead, I think it’s more important to look back on his career and his contributions to our field.
David was best known as the founder and editor of Hellnotes and The Horror Show. Both publications had a seminal, long-lasting, influential impact on our generation of horror writers, readers, and editors. The Horror Show helped launch the careers of authors such as Bentley Little, Poppy Z. Brite, Brian Hodge, Gary Raisor, and many of the Splatterpunks. Hellnotes informed an entire industry, and was a huge influence on my own Jobs In Hell (and I was very honored to freelance for Hellnotes, as well). David was also a renowned short story writer and novelist. The winner of the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award, his books included Come Thirteen, Through Shattered Glass, The Disappeared, All the Lonely People, and Walk the Sky (with Robert Swartwood).
I learned of his passing yesterday from Robert Swartwood (who has written a wonderful remembrance here). Later, while driving across a mountaintop in the snow, I was on the phone with Ellen Datlow, talking about David’s passing, and we both agreed that David’s influence on this genre and our field is monumental. So, perhaps it’s fitting to look at what others in the genre are saying about his passing:
THOMAS F. MONTELEONE: “He was such a wonderful writer and so under-appreciated. In a field populated by posturing assholes and mooks deluded by mis-reading their own press-releases, Dave was that rare combination of talent, sincerity, intelligence, and decorum. I counted him as one of my True Friends in this field and I am so whacked and pissed that he’s gone too early, while some of the True Fuckwads of the genre will most likely be doddering around at the age of 97.”
BRIAN HODGE: “This is heartbreaking news. Dave was so immensely supportive that it’s no exaggeration to say he changed my life. He provided the garden in which so many of us sowed our first true seeds, and was the hub by which so many of us got connected to each other. After he’d published my first few stories in The Horror Show, I asked him if he wouldn’t mind giving me some feedback in general. Not on any particular work, but overall … how I could be doing better, etc. Several days later I got a multi-page letter in his enviably neat, precise handwriting. He’d written this by lantern light during a power blackout at his home in northern California.”
LAIRD BARRON: “I got a rejection from him when I was in my teens. Form letter with a personal note. Meant a lot.”
JEREMY LASSEN (Nightshade Books): “David Silva helped inspire a generation of writers & readers AND editors. I’m one of those folks he inspired. Much respect.”
BOB FREEMAN: “A master of the short story. Man, that guy will be missed.”
MARK SIEBER (The Horror Drive-In): “Oldsters like myself cherish the memory of Dave’s 1980′s magazine, The Horror Show. It was the coolest magazine of its day, and also a contender for the coolest mag of all time. The Horror Show ran fiction and nonfiction, and Dave’s mantra in it was “Better Weird Than Plastic”. Weird the magazine definitely was. No one in their right mind would have called it plastic.
JAMES BEACH (Dark Discoveries): “Plain and simple Dark Discoveries wouldn’t exist without Dave Silva and his Horror Show magazine.”
KEALAN PATRICK BURKE: “Silva was a gentleman, plain and simple, and a great help to me at many times during my writing career.”
I published a couple of my first reviews at Hellnotes, and have several issues of The Horror Show in my stacks at home. David’s was a name that continually popped up when reading in or about the genre. Condolences to his family and friends.
So sad and stunned to hear this. As a teenager I was a huge fan of THE HORROR SHOW, where I first discovered writers like David J. Schow and Joe Lansdale. I submitted a few stories that were rejected (rightfully so), so David always sent a kind, personal note, which not only cushioned the blow — they inspired me to keep trying. And over a decade later, I was thrilled to contribute some reviews and Q&As to Hellnotes. David was always a gracious, encouraging editor — and incredibly modest about his own amazing work. His family and friends will be in our thoughts and prayers.
I’m sad to hear about his passing.
David was a true legend and will be missed. I was so sad when I heard the news. He will be greatly missed. Thankfully his wonderful stories will live on. My thoughts and prayers will be with his friends and family.
Brian:
I saw this and absolutely lost it–my wife doesn’t get it. Her problem. She wasn’t there–I was. Dave was the first ever to pay me for my writing:offered me a gig with The Horror Show. I stayed for 5 years, writing book reviews, interviewing Ray Bradbury, Robert Bloch, Peter Straub, Clive Barker, Joe Lansdale, and others. All because of Dave. I won’t get over it, my friend, but thank you for letting us know. 62 years for Silva. God, he deserved at least 20 more just for being kind, intelligent, and professional. Fuck. He didn’t booze, use drugs, nothing. I know, because Dave spoke to me no less than once per week in those days. He didn’t need to, but did so just to check in. “How’s your mother?” he’d say. Because he knew she was sick. Because he cared. That was Dave Silva. A one-handed operation with The Horror Show. Before the Internet. He once sent me a hard-cover Bradbury collection. Thinking it was a review-copy, I opened it to David’s handwritten (he had the best long-hand) note: “Bill, we’ve traveled a long road. Here’s a small token of my appreciation. Wish it could be more.”
It was more than enough, and remains so.
Dave loved Bradbury, and exemplified this by taking Bradbury’s small-town, emotional, darkness by writing novels and stories which updated these tropes in ways both melancholy and impossible to ignore. In our personal letters, Dave often expressed how the so-called modern world was losing it, forgetting what really matters. He was right. That’s what Dave had, a simple, but very painful, grasp of what our world has become. Please don’t forget him. I know I won’t.