 James Sabata is an Author, (Fat Camp, Engaged in Quietus: 13 Terrifying Tales of the Dead and Dying, and ZER0: Lancaster's Greatest Supervillain), and Filmmaker / Screenwriter (Two Urinals From Death, This Stays with the House), with a strong focus in the horror genre. He is the Co-host of TheNecronmi.Com podcast, analyzing horror as social commentary. His short films have won multiple awards. He currently resides in Phoenix, Arizona. Social Media: Author Website: http://JamesSabata.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/jamessabataauthor Twitter: www.twitter.com/jamessabata Instagram: www.instagram.com/jamessabataauthor IMdB: https://imdb.com/name/nm8516263/ Podcast: www.TheNecronomi.Com Podcast Facebook: www.facebook.com/thenecronomicom Books: ZER0: http://Getbook.at/Zer0 FAT CAMP: http://getbook.at/Fatcamp ENGAGED IN QUIETUS: www.facebook.com/engagedinquietus THE FIRST HORROR BOOK I REMEMBER READING I don’t remember the first one I read, but I was always fascinated by books that felt a little “off.” Even when I was 4 or 5 and I’d read Danny and the Dinosaur with my mom, I’d point out that they were bringing the dinosaur back from the dead. I collected Garbage Pail Kids which were often just as spooky as they were gross. They weren’t scary, but they fed my underlying addiction. In 1992, I was 14 years old and found a new set of books called Goosebumps. I couldn’t ingest RL Stine books fast enough… even though he tried valiantly to keep up with me. My librarian gave me access to Weird Tales and I was just gone. At some point, I started downing Stephen King books, but I couldn’t tell you which I started with, when it was, or even which I enjoyed the most. Before long, I couldn’t name a book I’d read (outside of those assigned in school) that wasn’t a horror book. THE FIRST HORROR FILM I REMEMBER READING 1984. I was 6 years old. My babysitter watched Friday the 13th part 3 on VHS. She either thought I was asleep or didn’t care one way or the other. I wasn’t. I’ve been partial to Jason ever since. More fun story: The moment that began my obsession with writing horror lives very clearly in my mind. When I was ten years old, I spent weekends at my cousin Kevin’s house. We were always up later than we should have been, watching movies we had no right to be watching. One Saturday night, we happened across The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I’d heard of the movie. I knew it was a horror movie. I knew it would be scary. But I did not know what to expect. I had even less of an idea how much my entire life was about to shift because I watched this film. From the opening when the hitchhiker cuts himself and tries to attack the others, I was sold. By the time Kirk took a hammer to the face like a cow in a slaughterhouse, I’d lost it. I was intensely frightened… but I couldn’t stop watching. I didn’t turn away when they impaled Pam. I couldn’t close my eyes as the chainsaw ripped through Kirk’s body. The level of gore far exceeded my miniscule expectations. Just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get worse, the Grandfather drank Sally’s blood. I barely slept that night; a combination of terror and fascination danced circles in my head like two prize fighters. When the sun rose in the morning, I was beat, but it had been worth it. I made the five-block walk back to my parents’ house; my shoes slapping the concrete a little faster than usual as I looked over my shoulder occasionally. Easily distracted at that age, I forgot all about the film I’d watched the night before and slid into my bubble-filled bathtub, playing with whatever toys I’d brought with me. It was a lazy Sunday morning with nothing going on and soon I lay completely relaxed without a care in the world. Until… Brum… Brum… Brum… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! The neighbor’s chainsaw roared to life, the whrrring growing louder as the chain sliced through the branches in his backyard. I took the opportunity to do what anyone would do. I cried and cried and cried. Just bawling. My parents both ran into the bathroom, terrified that I’d somehow been injured. They both asked what was wrong several times, but I was so scared I’d get in trouble for watching horror movies that I wouldn’t tell them. I never told them. That festering secret. That fear that I couldn’t tell anyone else about. That knowledge that I was completely alone. That’s the moment I became obsessed with horror. THE GREATEST HORROR BOOK OF ALL TIME I don’t know if it’s the greatest, but my favorite horror book of all time is my copy of Weird Tales: Seven Decades of Terror. This glorious 460-page hardcover features four stories from each of the Weird Tales magazine’s seven decades. Almost every story in this book affected me in some way; and I revisited them religiously. Stories by people like Ray Bradbury, HP Lovecraft, Moore, Kuttner, Quinn… Oh my god I can’t tell you how important this book was to me. Greatness is subjective. The influence of these stories on me as a writer is an absolute fact. THE GREATEST HORROR FILM OF ALL TIME For me, it’s a no brainer. Psycho is the almighty horror film to me. Maybe it’s not as scary today as it once was… but to me this film holds up like no other. It addresses so many ideas in such a small space. Anthony Perkins was at his absolute best. The soundtrack is insanely good. They kill the big name in the film halfway through! And I’ll tell you straight out that the ad campaign leading up to this film were just sublime. I don’t even want to ruin it. Just go google them and watch them if you haven’t. You might think you know Psycho, but you can’t understand the hold it had on a nationwide audience until you explore the ad campaign. The reveal when we finally see Mrs. Bates at the end sticks with you forever. And let’s not dismiss the lasting effects this film had on the genre, particularly with slashers. John Carpenter even gave his characters the last name “Loomis” because of Psycho. THE GREATEST WRITER OF ALL TIME If you’d asked me when I was 13, I would’ve said Richard Matheson, all day long. At 18, I would’ve preached the greatness of Stephen King. Today, it’s Ray Bradbury. No one touches what he accomplished, and no one has stuck with me more than he has. THE BEST BOOK COVER OF ALL TIME The cover of my novel Fat Camp is definitely up there. Just kidding, although I do love it. Stephen King’s Cycle of the Werewolf THE BEST FILM POSTER OFF ALL TIME I like the poster for THE LOBSTER. I love the one for Saw VI, where they form Jigsaw’s face. I’m utterly in love with READY OR NOT, so the poster for that is pretty sweet. ET is great. Silence of the Lambs is my favorite. THE BEST BOOK / FILM I HAVE WRITTEN Book – Fat Camp Film – This Stays With The House THE WORST BOOK / FILM I HAVE WRITTEN Book – I wrote a Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys wannabe when I was in High School. It wasn’t even a lack of skill at the point. It was just a terrible idea all around. THE MOSTUNDERRATED FILM OF ALL TIME Trick R Treat or Sinister THE MOST UNDERRATED BOOK OF ALL TIME You Came Back – Christopher Coake. See next answer. LOL THE MOST UNDERRATED AUTHOR OF ALL TIME I used to say Joe Hill, but everyone figured out who that is. Today I’ll go with Christopher Coake. He hasn’t written anything I’ve read and not loved. THE BOOK / FILM THAT SCARED ME THE MOST Texas Chainsaw. See above. THE BOOK / FILM I AM WORKING ON NEXT We are working on a short film called Two Urinals From Death about a man who literally meets the Reaper in the men’s room and they have a conversation about what happens after we die. My next book is a tale of how we don’t sell our souls all in one piece like the do in the movies. We make our choices piece by piece, selling off a tad bit at a time. One day, we realize it’s too late to get it back. I’m hoping to finish it in time for an early release next year. Follow my author page or twitter page to learn more. FAT CAMP by James Sabata Since 1985, over 500 overweight teenagers have come to Camp Wašíču, looking to lose weight, gain self-confidence, and turn their lives around. Phillip McCracken arrives, weighing in at almost 400 pounds; but the baggage he carries from the past affects him much more deeply than the numbers of the scale. When a homicidal maniac hell-bent on revenge attacks, Phillip will be forced to either find the courage to save the people around him or fall victim to his own self-doubt… … and possibly a machete. Filled with allusions to the Slasher films of yesteryear, Fat Camp delivers horror, humor, and a little slice of nostalgia for anyone who grew up even slightly afraid of the dark.   Comments are closed.
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