Crypto-American Press is a book-publishing house by accident. Because I work in the entertainment industry (mostly television), I am used to people pitching their ideas to me. In early 2005 an acquaintance of mine handed me what I thought was a script titled Man-Made Monsters and asked if I would read it. Politely, I agreed. It sat in my office for weeks. I am handed a lot of garbage and, considering the source, I assumed this was another piece of junk. I was not looking forward to reading it and found many excuses to ignore it. When I later ran into this acquaintance, he asked if I had had a chance to read it. To be honest I was a little afraid of this guy, so I figured I’d better just get it over with.

The first thing I noticed was that Man-Made Monsters wasn’t a script at all; it was a manuscript for a book. This struck me as confusing because I didn’t work in the publishing world, nor did I have any connections to it. I started reading anyway, because I really didn’t want to get on the author’s bad side. I was hooked instantly. The horror/conspiracy-themed collection of short stories definitely appealed to my interests. The stories were scary, funny, and disgusting—all at the same time. It was a real page-turner. I couldn’t wait to find out what was going to happen next. And always, this author surprised me with twists and turns. I was surprised that the manuscript was so well written.

After I finished reading this incredible book, I contacted the author who, for reasons of his own, wishes to be known as Mad Marv. I told him that I thought several of his stories would make great movies and I wanted to help him develop them into screenplays. He told me bluntly that Man-Made Monsters was a book, not a movie. He had assumed that I had access to all forms of media because I worked in the entertainment industry. He had no interest in turning his ideas into scripts. I couldn’t persuade him to change his mind, so reluctantly I told him I couldn’t help him out.

As the weeks passed I couldn’t stop thinking about Mad Marv’s book. Several of my friends read it and they, too, found it immensely entertaining. I wanted to share it with the world. I started looking into what it would take to publish the book myself. I discovered that printing is not longer an expensive undertaking. Ain’t technology great? Also, with the World Wide Web, self-distribution had become realistic. I figured at the very least I could make back my initial investment. That was it. I met with Mad Marv and told him I would publish his book. I got a rare smile out of him.

Not really knowing much about publishing, I did as much research as possible. I came to the conclusion that what separates a great book from a self-published piece of crap, aside from brilliant writing, is top-notch editing. Luckily my step-mom is a professional editor. She had never worked on a novel, but she knows her stuff. She was able to flesh out the stories, giving them an organic flow without altering the integrity of Mad Marv’s vision. I was flabbergasted by how much better the book was when she got through with it. I was worried the author wouldn’t take too kindly to his work being changed, but even he thought she had greatly intensified his stories.

The next important step was to give Man-Made Monsters a professional look. Never in a million years would I have known how important typesetting is—or how difficult—but it is on both counts. Again, I went back to my lovely step-mom, as she also is an experienced typesetter. Next, I needed a bold, eye-catching cover. My brother-in-law is a graphic artist, and I suckered him into doing the cover on spec. Before long, I had lots of family and friends working on the project. It was a lot of fun, and it reminded me of when I played drums in a band as a teenager. We would put on and promote concerts at local bars. We recorded a four-track demo and distributed it wherever we could. Working on Man-Made Monsters had the same kind of do-it-yourself, underground feel to it.

As we continued to work toward bringing the book to press, it occurred to me that there are more Mad Marvs out there—writers who can’t find a home because they are too bizarre, too extreme, too far away from what most publishers would consider “publishable.” With that in mind, I decided to look for other writers like Mad Marv. My vision for CAP is as a publishing house of horror that doesn’t fit into the mainstream.

The jury is still out on how successful this venture will be, but it’s been a hell of a lot of fun so far, and that counts for quite a lot.