Joshua H.

It is said that dreams are harmless, that they are nothing more than the meaningless fancies of an unconscious mind. It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream. This, of course, is something we tell ourselves when we wake up screaming in the dead of night. We repeat the mantra in order to bring ourselves back to reality, in order to remind ourselves that there is nothing to fear.

Night shift clerk and high-functioning insomniac Jack is back to work, trying his best to keep out of trouble. But when his chain-smoking coworker discovers a mysterious radio signal revealing the guarded secrets of their town, Jack will learn that an annoying new day shift manager is far from the worst of his problems.

An army of monsters walks among us, hidden in plain sight. They're fast. They're strong. They're unrelenting. And they only want one thing: The shitty gas station at the edge of town. Coming as a surprise to absolutely no one, Jack - night-shift clerk and local crazy person - has found himself neck-deep in the middle of yet another world-ending terror. And this time around, nobody can be trusted. Not that tough-as-nails cop who probably knows a lot more than she's letting on. Not the adorkable new employee who might be something far less innocent than she appears.

Misanthrope. Iconoclast. Apostate. Drunk. Many words have been used to describe Doug Stanhope, but rarely has “hopeful” been one of them. However, heading into 2016, Stanhope peered through the apocalyptic fog and saw a forecast that was more rainbows than acid rain: His first book was set for release, his new stand-up special was in the can, and he was about to film a television pilot with his friend and confidant Johnny Depp. The only thing that could stop Doug was himself, and that’s exactly what he did.

Doug Stanhope is one of the most critically acclaimed and stridently unrepentant comedians of his generation. What will surprise some is that he owes so much of his dark and sometimes uncomfortably honest sense of humor to his mother, Bonnie.

When Norm Macdonald, one of the greatest stand-up comics of all time, was approached to write a celebrity memoir, he flatly refused, calling the genre “one step below instruction manuals.” Norm then promptly took a two-year hiatus from stand-up comedy to live on a farm in northern Canada. When he emerged he had under his arm a manuscript, a genre-smashing book about comedy, tragedy, love, loss, war, and redemption. When asked if this was the celebrity memoir, Norm replied, “Call it anything you damn like.”