Author Dicksie Dudeney -- Bio

From the moment I wrote my first "book" at the age of 6, I knew I had found my true path in life. Of course as it turned out, it was a long and circuitous path, but one I wouldn’t have missed for anything.

I grew up on a Florida cattle ranch. As an only child, my playmates were motherless calves, lambs, wild hogs, chickens, armadillos, foxes, possums, raccoons, otters, and alligators. I rode a magnificent sorrel quarter horse and I used a cow whip with ease. I spoke a smattering of Miccosukee Seminole and even had the privilege of attending the Seminole’s sacred Green Corn Dance.

It was a wonderful life, but one mostly lacking in human companionship. So to entertain myself, I created stories and peopled them with amazing characters. And because of that, I was never lonely. Like most solitary people, I also spent a good deal of time reading. Mostly, I read everything I could get my hands on, but my favorite works were in horror and dark fantasy. I suppose it all began when I fell in love with the Beast, from "Beauty and the Beast." My love of the supernatural continued to grow as I devoured stories by Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Henry James, H.G. Wells, Ambrose Bierce, H.P. Lovecraft, and Robert Bloch. I was, and am, totally addicted to monster movies and I revere Rod Serling and his Twilight Zone. I suppose given all that, I had no choice but to become a writer of weird tales myself.

Today I share my home with the only known werewolf-wannabes in captivity treated to gourmet meals every night. Nicknamed the Russian Mafia for reasons that become apparent upon meeting them, Nikita and Dmitri are Siberian Huskies who, like George Herbert, believe that living well is the best revenge.

As for my vital statistics: I am a member of the Horror Writers Association and Eguild. I’m a second-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do as well as an assistant instructor, and I study sword, lift weights and drive a turquoise and white ‘57 Chevy BelAir. I still love to read and watch monster movies and I admit to having a "thing" for Key Lime Pie. The real one, though -- no topping and pale yellow in color.

In conclusion, I’d like to share my father’s favorite poem. During his lifetime, it hung beside his desk, and now a copy hangs in my office. It’s a code of conduct I still try to live by.

Code of the Cow country
By S. Omar Barker

It don’t take such a lot o’ laws to keep the rangeland straight,
Nor books to write them in, because there are only six or eight.

The first one is the welcome sign written deep in western hearts --
My camp is yours & yours is mine in all cow country parts.

Treat with respect all womankind, same as you would your sister,
Take care of neighbors’ strays you find & don’t call cowboys mister.

Shut the pasture gates when passin thru & takin all in all,
Be just as rough as pleases you but never mean nor small.

Talk straight, shoot straight, and never break your word to man nor boss.
Plumb always kill a rattlesnake, don’t ride a sore-backed hoss.

It don’t take law nor pedigree to live the best you can;
These few is all it takes to be a cowboy an -- a man.

Or for that matter, a woman.

Want to know more? Read on:

Eguild Interview -- An interview by Charlee Compo for Eguild

TRS Interview -- An Interview by Charlee Compo for The Royal Scribe

Gore-met Recipes -- Contributions to Conjuring Dark Delicacies, a cookbook published by Dark Delicacies as a benefit project for the NEVA Foundation.