Now available in e-book and paperback


In this surreal road novel, Anthony searches for the father he’s never met: Andy Kaufman, the legendary song-and-dance man from the ’70s. There’s a few problems here, of course. A) Andy Kaufman died in 1984, and B) Thanks to a recent cancer diagnosis, Anthony doesn’t have much longer to live, either. However, new evidence has come to light that questions whether or not Kaufman is actually dead. Could he be in hiding, after all these years? Anthony is determined to discover the truth before his own clock runs out. During his travels, he will encounter shameless medicine men, grifters, Walmart shoppers, the ghosts of Elvis and Warhol, and the Devil himself.

Saturday, December 22, 2012


(Surviving Cancer at Yule-time)

Several years ago, I was the first person to survive my cell-type of lymphoma in medical history. It should have burned me out in two months. I recovered during Yule, this winter holiday of light and hope. This is a special time for me. I’d always enjoyed the holiday, but my survival imbued it with new meaning of joy for me. So much of the anxiety and worry about the holiday left me, and I saw beauty. The lights glowed ever brighter, all the colors, all the spectral loveliness in life I would have lost if I had died. I had the comfort and warmth of friends. Everything tasted richer. That year I volunteered at Pennsbury Manor for Holly Night, the museum recreation of the home of William Penn, the Quaker founder of Pennsylvania. All the hearths burned. Candles lined the paths down to the river. Natural garland and flowers decorated the site, and we wore period 18th century clothing, greeting visitors. A bonfire burned down at the river. Choirs sung. All the walls in my soul had been torn down. I embraced the beauty of the season, all the joy and hope of life. I celebrate every moment. You will all probably screech, but I love going to the malls this time of year, to see everyone shopping, the decorations, the bands playing. I savor every moment. I love this season, this time.

When we can’t find hope in the darkness, we create it. Most cultures of Earth who are subjected to the raw dark winter create a beating heart at the midway of time. We do it because we need it, igniting a candle in the night. When life slumbers, when the trees wait barren, when the cold wind rakes and the snow falls, locking the world in stasis, the soul cries out for reminders of the light, of the joys in nature, of the warmth. We engage in holiday customs and traditions, decorating our spirits with reminders of the light the same way we decorate our homes. We string lights against the night. We bring evergreen trees into our homes to remind us of eternal natural life. We give gifts to celebrate family and friendship, and will fill our days with love.

The perfect ornament for a Fox.

Many religions have claimed this time. The first of course was Yule or the cultural equivalent to it, the pagan traditions celebrating the solstice. This is the day I celebrate as a Bard. Later it was adapted by Christianity to assimilate the holiday. And many other faiths practice their own traditions. It all goes back to the root of hope in the darkness, halfway out of the night. You’ll see coeval basic symbolism in the myriad traditions like the pagan worship and celebration of the sun as new life and hope or the birth of the Christian savior, also new life and hope or the burning of oil, all symbols of light and hope.

It has been another successful year, and my writing career continues to flourish and leap beyond anything I dared to expect. And every year is uncertain. The cancer ticks away inside me. I am already past the due date. Everyday is a gift. This season is the celebration of my life and all the lives of the people I love. I know I probably can’t transfer my experience to you, my rising, my renewal, my return, but I can help you look for it, seek it. Fill your life with hope. Fill it with light. Burn candles in the darkness. Fill your heart with love. Our time is short. Celebrate it.

The Foxy Yule Tree this year.

*          *            *

An Anthology from Rainstorm Press

“Ginger and cinnamon,” he said, saliva dripping down the candy cane teeth. “My little drummer boy to crack your bones like walnuts. I’ll suck out the marrow like pudding, like sweet milky dripping pudding, lad.”
--Missing Christmas by T. Fox Dunham

If you’re looking for a great horror anthology for the holiday, check out Rainstorm Press and The Undead that Saved Christmas III. Some great authors in this one. I’ve got a story in here and so does my spiritual brother, Jay Wilburn. The profits go to benefit the Hugs Foster Family Agency ( and will help them give their foster children gifts this holiday season. So buy some monsters and help some orphans before said monsters eat said orphans.


Stories Include:
Bad Parents - Gretchen Elhassani  
The Show Must Go On - Juliet Boyd  
Another Endless Night - Steven Gepp  
It Came Upon a Midnight Dreary - Stacey Graham
Colder than Hell up here… - Nathan Robinson

Winter Wonderland - Joshua Skye

The Christmas Maggot - Gary McKenzie

Santa’s Claw - Sarah L. Johnson

A Visit From Zombie Nicholas - Steven Gepp

The Deal that Saved Christmas - Essel Pratt

Bast’s Christmas Presents - Dana Bell

Bernard the Troll’s First Christmas Adventure - Philip Tebble

Most Wonderful Times - Jay Wilburn

Christmas Cricetus - M.E. Smith

In With the New - Tammy A. Branom

Santa's Bones - Christopher L. Irvin

Missing Christmas – See You Next Year! - T. Fox Dunham

The Christmas Preta - C.M. O’Connor

Krampusz - Nathan J.D.L Rowark

Christmas Fetish - Edward J Russell