Gahan Wilson is probably best known for his macabre Playboy cartoons―filled with charming monsters, goofy mad scientists, and melting victims―and his cutting-edge work in the National Lampoon, but in 1964, he brought his brilliantly controlled wiggly-but-sophisticated pen line to The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Wilson’s freaks and geeks found a home among the stories of the best fantasy and sf writers of the day, offering a welcome, if sometimes macabre or existentially imponderable, graphic break from the magazine’s otherwise straightforward prose. Wilson’s playfully black sense of comedy was on full display in these cartoons, delineated in his trademark roly-poly, sensual, delicately hatched line. Out There features the over 250 cartoons that Wilson drew during his tenure with the magazines as well as all four covers he rendered―none of which have seen the light of day since their first appearance 50 years ago. Wilson also contributed both short stories and movie and book reviews, which are included as well. Out There resurrects hundreds of virtually unseen cartoons by one of the 20th century’s masters of the form.

Sure to incite a quiver of laughter or a shiver, this macabre collection of the best and most hilarious examples of Wilson's jaundiced humor includes his wry, illustrated essays on such topics as childhood fears and human tourists in space.

Provides a look at the underlying horror--and humor--of human life in a collection of hundreds of cartoons

Inspired by the artwork of Gahan Wilson, one of the greatest macabre artists of our time, this thrilling new anthology is a consummate collaboration between Wilson and leading horror writers and features 13 new stories, each exploring a different room of the haunted house. Contributors include Nancy A. Collins, Kathe Koja, Gregory Nicoll and T.E.D. Klein.

Got a craving for cranial matter? Need to dip your chip in the saliva of a witch? Caught between a skull and a hard place? Have we got a cartoonist for you! Humorously demented cartoons by Gahan Wilson have been delighting the readers of The New Yorker, Playboy and National Lampoon for decades. Now, for a mere pittance, you can enjoy the best musings from this mad monster of the wild and the weird in the privacy of your own cave, hovel or castle. Cannibals around the world have celebrated the clever cartoons of Gahan Wilson. Now it's your turn!

Remember how baffling, terrifying, and sad childhood really was? Now you can laugh at it. In this thematically and narratively linked series of one-page stories originally published in the National Lampoon’s “Funny Pages” section throughout the 1970s, the master of the macabre eschewed his usual ghouls, vampires, and end-of-the-world scenarios for a wry, pointed look at growing up normal in the real, yet endlessly weird world. This is essentially a lost Gahan Wilson graphic novel from the 1970s and '80s. Watch as our stoic, hunting-cap-wearing protagonist (known only as “The Kid”) copes with illness, disappointment, strange old relatives, the disappointment of Christmas, life-threatening escapades, death, school, the awfulness of camp, and much more ― all delineated in Wilson’s roly-poly, sensual, delicately hatched line.

Gahan Wilson is probably best known for his macabre Playboy cartoons, filled with charming monsters, goofy mad scientists, and melting victims, and his cutting-edge work in the National Lampoon, but he’s also one of the most versatile cartoonists alive whose work has appeared in a wide range of media venues. Gahan Wilson Sunday Comics is Wilson’s assault from within: His little-known syndicated strip that appeared in America’s newspapers between 1974 an 1976. Readers must have been startled to find Wilson’s freaks, geeks, and weirdos nestled among family, funny-animal, and soap opera offerings. (The term “zombie strip” ― a strip that has long outlived its original creator ― takes on a whole new meaning in Wilson’s hands.) While each strip, at first glance, appears to be a standard, color Sunday strip (albeit without panel borders), each Sunday Comic is a collection of one-panel gag cartoons, delineated in Wilson’s brilliantly controlled wiggly-but-sophisticated pen line. The last gag cartoon on each Sunday is part of a recurring series, either “Future Funnies” or “The Creep.” Some Sundays are a freewheeling mélange of board meetings, monsters, and cavemen (with cameos by Wilson’s Kid character from Nuts, his gimlet-eyed view of childhood, collected last year by Fantagraphics), while others riff on a topic or subject (clocks, plants, wallpaper, etc.). As is his wont, Wilson mines the blackest of black comedy in the banal horror of human nature.