William Browning Spencer - Zod Wallop

By William Browning Spencer

HARRY GAINESBOROUGH, ex-writer of childrens books, just wants to be left alone. But the worldworlds, actuallywont let him. Raymond Story, escaped from Harwood Psychiatric (and now married to Emily, a catatonic girl that Raymond declares is the Frozen Princess) has enlisted some of his fellow patients and is intent on saving the worldwith Harrys help.

Nonsense, of course. But a Ralewing (a nasty sort of flying sting ray that Harry invented for his book) appears to have eaten the paint from the roof of Harrys car; the ruthless executive of a large pharmaceutical company bears an unsettling resemblance to Zod Wallop s evil Lord Draining, and a hotel in Florida could be about to host the end of the world.

ZOD WALLOP

Copyright 1995 by William Browning Spencer

Originally published by St. Martins Press.

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the author, William Browning Spencer.

The characters and events described in this book are fictional. Any resemblance between the characters and any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover by William Browning Spencer

Praise for Zod Wallop:
Zod Wallop is a delightful picaresque which along the way has some wise things to say about the responsibility of authorship, and the relative power of author and reader. Interzone
Zod Wallop is that rarity: a novel that surprises us on every page and hurries us toward an unguessable destination Spencer satirizes the pharmaceutical industry, literary agents, smoking, S&M, psychotherapy, automated teller machines, the sword-and-sorcery genre, roadside convenience stores, weddings, parenthood, geezers, monkeys and espionageentertaining.
The Los Angeles Times Book Review
starts off with the sort of bang that makes you tighten your seat belt. One of the strangest achievements in recent literature, Zod Wallop manages to pile absurdity on top of absurdity, passing from the ridiculous to the grotesque and eventually the horrific before soaring, incredibly, to the sublime, all the while violating many of those time-honored customs that enable us, readers and writers, to live together in harmony Do you hear that ripping sound? Relax: it is not a wing tearing off; it is William Browning Spencer shredding all these rules and many, many others. And getting away with it Fantastical as it isit nonetheless is rooted firmly (like fairy tales themselves) in the common ground of human feelings, held together by the strong muscles of the heart Ive never read anything like this at all. For all its teetering wildness, Zod Wallop packs a pretty mean punch. Washington Post Book World
By raising the question of who is crazy and who is sane, Spencer seduces the reader into considering the underlying question: What is craziness and what is sanity? Happily this very talented author has not only the irreverent humor but also the insight into the manic rhythms of madness to pull this query off. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
A work of great originality and charm from a brilliant writer of fantasy whos also a very considerable serious novelist. Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
a fine novela very kindly book, if somewhat stern, and I think it has a lot of helpful truth in it. Gahan Wilson, Realms of Fantasy
Spencer is a wonderful writer Through one beguiling, horrifying, absurdist David-Lynchian episode after another, we follow Spencers cast as they strive to prevent one mans intense self-pity and suffering from rendering our world a stony desert. Speaking deep truths about the uses and abuses of escapism and fantasy, Zod Wallop provides a wild ride through a land where sanity and insanity blur. Asimovs Science Fiction
The old theme of fantasy versus reality gains new twists and poignancy in Zod Wallop Funny, exciting, and sad, Zod Wallop should delight readers wise enough to know that one moment of despair can be worse than a dozen dragons. Starlog
Alternately crazed, raw, modern, desperate, poignant, and wise Faren Miller, Locus Magazine
Every so often a book comes along that deserves to be an instant classic, and this fourth book by William Spencer leaps immediately into that company. Or to put it another way, I got the same feeling reading Zod Wallop as I did when I first read Jonathan Carrolls The Land of Laughs a sense that here was something entirely original, a novel both serious and funny, beautifully written, a delight and a wonder, a true gift. Charles de Lint, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction
Hes sharp and funny and serious at the same time Spencers is a fun-house ride. His characters start out crazy and (some of them at least) struggle toward sanity Watch this writer. Hell soon be one of your favorites. Aboriginal SF
A delightfully funny waltz through a literary house of mirrors, and it establishes Spencer as the heir to Vladimir Nabokov. This book is the most hopeful fruit of the literary tree with Nabokov at the root and Thomas Pynchon as a branch. Don Webb, The Austin American-Statesman
Wonderfully zany with sinister overtones, Zod Wallop could be the story of Robin Hood and his merry men on LSD. Booklist
Like all good fairy tales Zod Wallop is both scary and funa pleasantly grim confection suggestive of Seuss, Tolkien, and Poe. Texas Monthly

This book is dedicated to my
sister, Susan, all the
children lost and found, and the
writers of the books that chronicle
the journey.

THE WEDDING WAS held outdoors. An April sky darkened and gusts of wind, like large, unruly hounds, knocked over folding chairs and made off with hats and handkerchiefs. A bright yellow hat went sailing over the lake, cheered on by two small children.

Ada Story said to her husband, I told Raymond this was not the season for an outdoor wedding.

Her husband, who was watching a black cloud race toward him as though it had singled him out and intended some mischief to his new summer suit, replied: I dont know how youve lived this long and missed it, Ada. Our Raymond isnt interested in traveling the highway of our advice. Their son did march to his own drum, particularly when he was refusing to take his medication.

Mrs. Story sniffed and lifted her face to the darkening heavens. I hope they hold off , she thought.

In case her own mind might misinterpret her thoughts, she added, The rain clouds, I mean. I hope the rain holds off.

All the chairs were filled with the wedding guests now, and there was, really, something exciting in the prospect of so much finery exposed to the elements. The riskiness of life, of all human ventures, was underlined by the first large raindrops and the growl of approaching thunder. The ministers robes billowed in the winds, and the coming storm seemed intent on editing him, first snatching one piece of paper, then another, and launching them into the air. Reverend Gates displayed considerable dexterity as he darted after his text, and the crowd burst into a flurry of applause when he executed a twisting leap and fetched a loose page that seemed already lost to the lake. No outfielder snagging a bleacher-bound fly ball could have displayed greater style, and since the crowd had no way of knowing that the retrieved paper contained a rather tedious rehash of St. Pauls thoughts on duty, their enthusiasm was unrestrained.

The Reverend Gates, having regained command of his notes, was giving them the once-over through gold-rimmed spectacles, when a stirring of voices caused him to look up.

A fat man in a tuxedo, perilously perched on a bicycle and pedaling with frantic enterprise, had crested a green hill and was now racing toward the gathering. His speed was disconcerting, but what truly troubled the Reverend Gates was the mans appearance. He had two heads.