“In one sense it is a mere truism to speak of the evocative power of words. The olden efficacy of subtly woven spells, of magic formulas and incantations, has long become a literary metaphor; though the terrible reality which once underlay and may still underlie such concepts has been forgotten.”

_{—“The Necromantic Tale”}

The first time I saw a photo of Clark Ashton Smith he was holding a carven stone head that looked like it had either come from outer space or was created by some ancient civilization. He wasn’t holding it for the benefit of the photograph; but like a slightly nerdier Indiana Jones, it appeared as though he could have been on an overgrown and dilapidated altar from which it had been stolen centuries ago…

And his eyes, not looking at the camera, not idly staring into space, but fixed on some point in the distance. Combined with his esoteric writing style, it was apparent that this person was truly touched by something mysterious. It later turned out that the strange object is one of many original carvings created by Smith himself. But the mystery surrounding the man was not decreased. The stone head was a product of his later life when carving and painting had overtaken his career as a writer. A career built from tales one is unlikely to encounter in most bookstores across the U.S., tales of a quality that made Clark Ashton Smith arguably the greatest practitioner of weird fiction in the world.

Just outside the city of Auburn, California, near what is today the Eldorado National Forest, is Boulder Ridge. Smith lived most of his life here, in the house he helped his father build in 1902. Today, not far from Auburn, lives Scott Connors, Smith’s biographer and the man considered by many to be the foremost expert on Smith’s life and career. “There are still a number of people who knew Clark living around this area, although they’re starting to pass away,” Connors says. “Generally speaking, they regarded him as a good friend; as somebody who was a little bit otherworldly at times; somebody who lived life on his own terms without making a lot of compromises.”

An only child, Smith was, from a young age, introspective and extremely fearful of crowds—characteristics that added to his imaginative output and also contributed to a largely solitary existence. “He had what almost amounted to a phobia regarding crowds,” says Connors. “He actually was accepted to the Placer County high school after he completed grammar school. This is back when going to high school was not automatic. He went for the first couple of days and the experience was just so hard on him, not academically, but socially, from being around so many people, that he and his parents thought that he’d do better by educating himself.”