 Ask a horror author which titles inspired them to write and you’d undoubtedly be given a list penned by the horror greats. But not all inspiration comes from the door stopper novels of King, McCammon, Straub or Lovecraft. Let’s go on a journey of discovery and immediately forget my age here. I was born in 1970. I was a weird little girl (and now, a weird adult) who loved to read. My mom, a voracious reader herself, gleefully encouraged me. She bought me and my siblings’ books from a mail order book club. The titles and content were very cute and sweet; they weren’t horror, but I enjoyed them immensely. I still have a few of those hardcover books in my massive book bins. Those books kick-started my love of reading, but the ones that made me want to become a writer, and more specifically, a horror writer, came from two places that hold a warm, squishy place in my little black heart. The first was the library, duh! and the second, the Troll and Scholastic Book orders from school. Like many other kids in the 70’s and 80’s, the sight of the large box displayed on the teacher’s desk, usually arriving on a glorious Friday morning, but not opened until the end of the day (the sadists!), made me squee my pants. Not literally, mind you. I had complete bladder control back then - unlike now. I always chose the strange and scary books compared to the other little girls who read tales from Judy Blume or Laura Ingalls Wilder. I delighted in the books on Bigfoot, vampires and the supernatural. Those delicious nuggets were my jam. They fried up the horror writer in me and dipped me in wannabe author sauce. I’ll stop now with the food analogies. Here is an abridged list of children’s books that inspired me as a wee writer. The Monster at the End of this Book by Jon Stone, Illustrated by Mike Smollin  I’m sure many grown-ups my age remembers this Little Golden Book. Adorable Grover, from Sesame Street, warns us of a monster lurking at the end of the book, and he desperately doesn’t want the reader to continue turning the pages. But does anyone listen? Nooo, we keep turning, and at the last page, we do indeed find a monster - but it's Grover himself. I believe this book began my journey in penning “the twist ending” in stories. We all had to learn it from somewhere and Grover was a great teacher. C is for cute too. Spooky Rhymes and Riddles by Lilian Moore. Pictures by Ib Ohlsson  “Mama ghost and baby ghost were playing a game of peek-a-boo. Baby ghost looked up and cried, ‘I see though you! I see through you!” This book had my six-year-old self at ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’ and most definitely, ‘boo’. I can still recite most of the uber-short pieces from memory. I know you were delighted by the little rhyme above. Shut up! I can smell your delight. It kinda smells like garlic. Usually, I can’t remember what’s on my grocery list, even though I pick up the same crap every week, or if a co-worker asks me what I had for lunch, not ten minutes before, and I look at them like they have an arm growing from their sphincter. But silly, spookified rhymes from over forty years ago slide from my lips like a well-seasoned rap artist. (It's lemon pepper by the way. I know you were wondering.) This short softback definitely sparked my writing and love of alliteration, poetry, rhyme and monsters. Always monsters. Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak Everyone knows this awesome story. The boy, Max, has a fantastic imagination, and visits the land where the ‘Wild Things’ are. They even dub him an honorary Wild Thing! Lucky little bastard. This picture book prodded my imagination. I wanted to play and live with the Wild Things. And as I grew older - I did. Like Max, I created my own monsters to ‘play' with and strange worlds to visit. Each book and story I write is like Max's journey to the land of the Wild Things. Eventually, when the last words are saved on my computer, I reluctantly wave goodbye to my imaginary friends, my monsters, my ‘wild things,’ until I discover new monsters lurking about to put in my new book. I hate when they hide in my underwear drawer though. Dirty little buggers. D'Aulaires Book of Greek Myths by Ingri d'Aulaires and Edgar Parin d'Aulaires  I must have checked this book out of our local library dozens of time. Enticed by the artist's renditions of gods and monsters, the stories were fascinating, and awe-inspiring in my impressionable youth. Sure, this vibrantly painted, oversized tome isn’t traditional horror, but the ancient Greek tales of jealous gods, creative vengeance, supernatural debauchery and monstrous murder - both literal, and figurative - were the O.G. of the modern horror story. The Greeks rich, over the top myths helped me learn to think outside the box while penning stories. Why write about a philandering husband fathering an ass load of children, when you could write about a philandering god fathering an ass load of children: birthing a child from his own skull? Bad. Ass. Vampires, Werewolves and Other Demons by Burnhardt J Hurwood  The pages of this book are brittle and yellowed, with a spine so shredded it looks as if the werewolf on the cover did the deed. In other words, this book was well-loved. Another Scholastic Book Service treasure, Vampires, Werewolves and Other Demons was my introduction to monsters and supernatural legends crawling from desolate forests, foreboding castles and chilling bone-yards from around the world. Each tale, a scant two to four pages, unearthed deranged history: such as Countess Elizabeth of Bathory, the living embodiment of the vampire mythos, to stories stoked and fanned via campfires by moonlight. This pocket book fed my love of the modern day Flash Fiction before it was coined ‘Flash.’ In case you’re wondering, Flash is a word count anywhere from fifty words up to 1500. I remember writing knockoffs of certain tales, adding my own spin and wisdom from the perspective of a shy second grader. Hurwood’s tales were meaty, with little fat. As an adult I concoct and appreciate stories that resemble the same lean, yet juicy offerings, but I also realize stories do need a bit of sticky, lip-smacking fat to impart flavor. When penning Flash, it’s knowing what fat to cut without ruining the meat. Damn, why am I’m I so hungry? Oh yeah, I write a lot about monsters and monsters are notoriously hungry. Like I said before, always monsters. Georgie by Robert Bright Of course, I snagged this when I saw the little ghost on the front cover. I was a weirdo! And I was uber- excited about this offering because it came with a record. I was also a bit of a music lover, and any excuse to sit my skinny butt in my favorite rocking chair in front of the stereo, be it a 45 of the latest Bee Gees single or having a book read to me as I followed along, was gobbled up. Now, here’s where it gets interesting, I don’t remember much about Georgie. I know, you’re thinking - why bring it up? Well, it’s because of the record, the B-side, actually. Like the Spooky Rhymes and Riddles book I adored, this was a record of Halloween-esque fun songs and poems that burrowed into my brain like a tapeworm from eating undercooked pork- but in a good way! It was entitled, Mother Ghost’s Nursery Rhymes and Other Tricks and Treats. And let me tell you, it was cheesy as hell, and I loved it. Learning to sing ‘in the round’ with the Ghost of John track was pure magic, while discovering the art of recurring phrases in stories, as highlighted in the rhyme, In A Dark, Dark Room. It also gave me my first tastes of humor and horror. The intro to the last song, Peter Pumpkin Eater, gave the old poem a goofy Halloween twist. Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater. Had a witch and couldn’t keep her. He put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her very well . . . so now, (cue music) Peter Pumpkin Eater's having a paaarty. It’s silly. It’s juvenile. But so was I. It was the early 70’s! This record was definitely an inspiration to my writing. It made me realize that sometimes you find inspiration by simply flipping over the record. I thought I’d love Georgie, and I’m sure I did; he was still a ghost and I was a ghost-loving girl, but instead, I was amazed by the songs I knew nothing about - until I decided to flip the record. As an adult writer I try to remember to ‘listen to the B-side’ in all aspects of writing and reading; disciplining myself to look to other subgenres and titles I would not usually root through. For example, I’m just discovering Splatterpunk. It’s raw and disgustingly fabulous. I have been amazed at the talents of fellow authors who aren’t in the mainstream and have created fantastic offerings I might not have read if I had not ‘flipped over the record.’  These are just a few of the books that sprung the monster loving beast inside of me. Don’t worry, it’s consensual. So, dig deeper than the six-foot hole you dump your bodies- remember and celebrate the children’s books that set free your wee monsters.  Ruschelle Dillon is a freelance writer whose efforts focus on the dark humor and the horror genres. Ms. Dillon’s brand of humor has been incorporated in a wide variety of projects, including the irreverent blog Puppets Don’t Wear Pants and novelette "Bone-sai", published through Black Bed Sheet Books as well as the live-action video shorts “Don’t Punch the Corpse” and “Mothman”. She also interviews authors for the Horror Tree website. Her short stories have appeared in various anthologies and online zines such as Strangely Funny III, Story Shack, Siren’s Call, Weird Ales- Another Round and Women in Horror Anthology Vol. 2, The Infernal Clock: DeadCades Anthology, Sanitarium Magazine, Dark Voices and Fear and Fables. Her collection of short stories, Arithmophobia published by Mystery and Horror LLC, is available through Amazon & Barnes and Noble. Her latest Novella, The Stain was published in 2020, by Black Bed Sheet Books. https://www.ruschelledillon.net Twitter: @ruschelledillon https://www.facebook.com/ruschelledillon.author/ Instagram: ruschelleedillon https://www.amazon.com/Ruschelle-Dillon/e/B0089LM1MC%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share  Born of bloodshed, a prolific stain, fed by the sins of earliest man….The Simmons moved into 228 Briar Street. With two growing children needing a stable routine and a house to call home, Marc and Claire settled into the old red brick, unaware of the neighborhood’s dirty little secret. In the dark and unfamiliar depths of the basement it lurks. It desires to manipulate the family into destructive chaos as it has countless times past and as far back as there were settlers in this plot of land, feed upon both flesh and the ecstasy of its dark influence. And not just in this house. It is old, mischievous, and inherently evil. It is...THE STAIN.   the heart and soul of horror promotion websitesComments are closed.
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