As part of Ginger Nuts of Horror's support of the Kickstarter for Tales From The Shadow Booth, we have teamed up with some of the contributors for a series of exclusive interviews.  Today Ginger Nuts of Horror welcomes Sarah Read.  

Sarah Read is a dark fiction writer and freelance editor recently relocated from the foothills of Colorado to the frozen north of Wisconsin. Her short stories can be found in Gamut, Black Static, and other places, and in various anthologies including Exigencies, Suspended in Dusk, and BEHOLD! Oddities Curiosities and Undefinable Wonders. She also writes numerous articles about crocheting and fountain pens. She is the Editor in Chief at Pantheon Magazine and an active member of the Horror Writer’s Association. When she’s not staring into the abyss, she knits.

Follow her on Twitter or Instagram @Inkwellmonster or keep up with her on Facebook.

And to support this wonderful Kickstarter click here for the full details 

Hello Sarah, Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?

I’m a writer, mom, editor, librarian, stationery blogger, yarn-thing who lives in a very old house by a river. My walls are full of books and I keep spiders in every window. I’ve been a horror fan since I was a toddler and I’m raising my kids to appreciate the uncanny side of life.
 
Tell us about your love for fountain pens and crocheting?

I’ve been collecting fountain pens since I was a student. I’ve never enjoyed typing much, so most of my writing is done with a pen and paper. I just think better in ink. Especially pretty ink in a pretty pen. The friction on the page helps me connect, somehow.

I knit and crochet and spin yarn on a spinning wheel while I listen to audiobooks or podcasts. It (mostly) keeps me out of trouble.

You have lived in two of the most breathtaking places in the US, Wisconsin and Colorado, has the landscape and natural beauty of these places ever been an inspiration for your writing? 

Absolutely! I’m dreadfully prone to homesickness and I fall in love with places easily. Everywhere I go winds up on the page somehow. And if I get too far from rocks and trees and water, I get odd-in-a-bad-way. It’s been a year since I’ve seen the Rockies, so there’s a strong chance I’ll be spending more time there in fiction, to make up for it.

You are the editor in chief at Pantheon Magazine. How did you become involved with editing? 

Matt Garcia is the brains (and the big heart) behind Pantheon. He bought a few of my stories early on, and asked me one day if I’d like to help read slush, since I seemed to have a good idea of what he was looking for. I did that for a while. Then he asked if I’d like to help out as fiction editor. I’d been a magazine editor for a big publisher for about six years, so that seemed perfect. Then, as we got busier and busier, it made more sense for us to split duties more, and he became publisher and I became head editor. Letitia Trent now does our poetry editing and we have an awesome team of first readers. We’re completely reorganizing for next year. It’s going to be exciting.

What’s the biggest misconception about being an editor that you have come across? 

Probably that I cackle gleefully as I push the big red button. Okay, I’ve done that maybe two or three times—but it’s super rare and always very well deserved. No, I really hate sending rejections. Most of the time I’m rejecting because a piece isn’t a good fit for the theme or the magazine in general. It’s excruciatingly common that the best story I receive in any given submission period gets rejected because it has nothing to do with that issue’s theme.

Your short stories have appeared in such places as Black Static Magazine and Gamut, these two publications in particular have a certain style and theme when it comes to the fiction that they publish.  Do you write specifically with these markets in mind, or do you just write a story and find that it suits places such as these? 

I write first and find a market later. I’m a bit of a market stalker—I like to read the magazines for a while and really figure out their style. I submit based on what I think is the best fit for the piece, instead of working my way down a hierarchy of white whales. On the one hand, I feel like the stories find a home more quickly that way. On the other—I have dozens of pieces I’ve never subbed because the right place hasn’t opened up. I will sometimes rewrite a story to fit a specific call, but not very often.

Is there one market that you would love to crack, and do you have a story in mind for it?

I really want to work with Ellen Datlow someday—so I guess my dream market would be one of her anthologies. She’s been one of my idols since I was a teenager. Working with her is on my die happy/bucket list. No story in mind for this dream scenario. I imagine that if the opportunity ever arose, the performance anxiety might be the end of me.
 
There is a move from the more literary side of the writing world into writing about the weird, traditionally this has been the domain of the lowly genre writer.  Why do you think they are doing this? 

Maybe they’ve noticed we lowlies are having more fun down here. Or maybe people are noticing that the world is so weird that the weird feels like home. I still experience genre bias pretty often. Mostly from friends and acquaintances who I’m sure don’t even realize they’re doing it—implying that my stories can’t mean something important and also have monsters in them. I usually just give them an odd smile and quietly question their critical reading skills.

One of your stories has been selected to appear in Shadow Booth, how did you come to appear in the anthology? 

Dan was kind enough to invite me to submit something for consideration. It was one of those times where I had a story waiting for the right market to appear. When he told me what mood he was going for, I knew which piece I would send him. I’m very excited to be a part of the first issue! Can’t wait to read the whole thing.

Can you tell us about some of the themes of the story? 

It’s about a ghost Winnebago and carrion crows and a dead man who has lost a son and a dead-inside man who’s finding the ghost of a son he never had. It’s about winter in the desert and missing people who never existed and having no one to miss you. And how sometimes shooting your own foot off is the best cure for a snakebite.

What has been a major influence on your writing?

Well, life. I imagine a lot of horror writers have had lives full of inspiration. And also reading—I’ve always been a reader, and I’ve always loved reading dark things. A lot of that came from my grandmother. She put a lot of lovely gothic novels and myths and mysteries and true crime books into my hands. She’s currently suffering from Alzheimer’s, and it’s a tremendous heartbreak. But she still reads—constantly.
 
The term horror, especially when applied to fiction always carries such heavy connotations.  What’s your feeling on the term “horror” and what do you think we can do to break past these assumptions?

There are so many lovely flavors of horror. And there are bits of horror in so many lovely things. Like there’s a centipede at the center of every lollipop, and yeah—eventually you’re going to start to feel it against your tongue and maybe it’ll ruin things for you. But not before you’ve enjoyed all that sweet candy, first.

Everyone experiences real-world horror at some time in their life—I think learning to navigate those feelings in the safety of fiction is a really healthy thing to do. People have always used fiction to find their way through feelings. I think the misconception comes when people think horror is meant to just punch you in the face and your job is to do your best to ignore it or deny that you’re even in pain at all. No, you’re meant to let yourself feel it and savor it and let it soak in, then master it. I often hear, “there’s already enough horror in the world, why add to it?” I sometimes wonder if there’s too much horror in the world because not enough people have let themselves learn how to process it. They’re just leaving it there like emotional litter. It’s the old “the only way out is through” deal. I think horror fiction can help people find the way through, instead of covering their eyes and humming.

What are the books and films that helped to define you as an author?

My grandmother gave me a lot of classics. Children’s classics are surprisingly full of horror. The Secret Garden is probably the book that sneaks tendrils into a lot of my work. Frankenstein and Dracula and gothic mysteries. As a kid, I read a lot of Anne Rice and Dean Koontz. I didn’t come across Shirley Jackson until later, and now I feel like she’s my biggest influence. Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series got me through my teens. As far as films, I saw The Exorcist and Poltergeist when I was seven—probably not a great idea, but I LOVED them. I also loved Ghostbusters and Are You Afraid of the Dark and Unsolved Mysteries. I still love all those things. My current favorite film is Guillermo del Toro’s The Orphanage.

What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice of?

Anyone I might name here inevitably has way more experience writing than I do. But I recently loved Gwendolyn Kiste’s collection. And Julie C. Day has a new collection coming out soon that I can’t wait for. Karen Runge is writing some of the most upsetting, raw stuff out there. And Letitia Trent breaks my heart over and over in her books.

How would you describe your writing style?

My favorite place to play is in a weird, dark world where magical realism and madness get a little blurry.

What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult?

Making time to sit down and get work done. I’ve recently gone back to work after staying home for a few years with my youngest (who needs a lot of extra care), so between work and kids and the house, and editing for Pantheon—I’m writing two or three sentences here or there throughout the day. It’s not my ideal routine. I need to work out something better.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?

Nope. I’d never say never. But I might write about something upside down or sideways.
 
Writing is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years? 

Well, I think I’ve only recently found my voice. But I still like to write in a lot of different moods, so there might be some ventriloquism going on with it. I do think I’m less afraid to write from life experiences, now. I think I was afraid of that vulnerability before, or of making people angry. But I don’t care so much now what people think, I just write. I don’t read many reviews unless someone points one out to me. And rejections don’t bother me as much—maybe because I send so many, myself, that I know there’s nothing personal in it.

What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?         

Fountain pens…? No? I really do think a reliable pen and a pocket notebook are a must. But, also, I would say a community of fellow writers—especially ones who will give you honest feedback and crack the whip when you’re slacking. There are some great places online to gather and workshop and help keep each other motivated.

What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing?

Get back to work. My life is so crazy busy—I use that as an excuse a lot. I have a few friends I can reach out to who won’t let me get away with that shit.

Getting your work noticed is one of the hardest things for a writer to achieve, how have you tried to approach this subject?

Just keep writing, keep finishing things, edit them till you can’t stand it anymore, keep sending them out. Familiarity is something that builds slowly, over time. No one will remember you the first time they read you. Or the second…maybe not even the third. I think this is why we keep hearing about “new” authors who have been publishing for decades. Just keep going. Be stubborn.

To many writers, the characters they write become like children, who is your favourite child, and who is your least  favourite to write for and why?

I confess, I’ve never made that kind of bond with a character. I don’t get very attached to or precious about my work. My heart’s in it—but I can disconnect, too. Maybe it’s the editing background. But I do have more fun with some characters than others. My favorite is probably from my story Making Monsters—a woman who makes her living selling photographs of cryptozoological creatures that she’s constructed from roadkill taxidermy.

What piece of your own work are you most proud of?

Well, my novel manuscript—because I wasn’t sure if I could do a longer piece. But I like it. And I hope I will find a good home for it soon.

As far as short pieces go, my favorite is “Tall Grass, Shallow Water”, which will be out soonish in a place I can’t say yet.

And are there any that you would like to forget about?

Of course! But if I tell you which ones, you might go looking, and I can’t have that. Just let the dead sleep.

For those who haven’t read any of your stories, which do you think best represents your work and why?

If I had to pick one, I’d say “Endoskeletal” from Black Static #59. It has a lot of the elements I like to play with and it grew from one of my biggest phobias: broken bones.

Do you have a favorite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us?

This was my favorite bit to write in “Endoskeletal”:
 
Her knuckles twisted as the skin pulled tighter. The grooves of her knuckles split, the fissures like small gaping mouths from which erupted bone upon bone. She shrieked at the sting of it and tried to close the split flesh by straightening her fingers, felt the pressure grow, pulsing under her nails—saw the white of bone pale like blisters at the tips of her fingers. She stretched her fingers further and the skin burst, springing back along the protruding shafts of bone, curling back like a blooming flower. Her fingernails scattered around her. Each breath, deep and ragged, felt as though it contained less air than the one before.
 
What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?

One I recently loved: It’s really hard to choose. There are so many! Horror has been having some excellent years, lately. I’ll say White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi.

One that recently disappointed me: The Gunslinger by Stephen King. This is the third time I’ve tried to read it. I tried once in book form and couldn’t get into it, so I tried the graphic novel, and still nope, so this time I tried audio. I think I might have to let this one go. I’ve kept trying because so many of my friends love it. But I guess it isn’t for me.

What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do?  And what would be the answer?

“Hello, Sarah, I have this nice fountain pen—would you like it?”
“Why, yes—yes I would, thank you.”

As part of Ginger Nuts of Horror's support of the Kickstarter for Tales From The Shadow Booth, we have teamed up with some of the contributors for a series of exclusive interviews.  Today Ginger Nuts of Horror welcomes Gary Budden.   ​ 

Gary is the co-founder and director of independent publisher Influx Press and an editor at Titan Books. He writes fiction and creative non-fiction about the intersections of British sub-culture, landscape, psychogeography, hidden history, nature, horror, weird fiction and more. A lot of it falls under the banner 'landscape punk'. His work has appeared in numerous magazines and journals. A full list can be found here. His  debut collection, Hollow Shores, will be published by Dead Ink Books in October 2017.

M John Harrison called him  'redoubtable'.

Hello Gary, Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?
 
I am a writer and editor. I live in North London, and have my debut fiction collection, Hollow Shores, coming out with Dead Ink Books in October.

As well as being an author your are also the co-founder and director of independent publisher Influx Press and an editor at Titan Books.  How do these two roles shape you as an author, and what insights do they give you as a subbing author?
 
I think it gives me a much better perspective on how the whole industry works. Obviously, reading and editing a huge variety of different manuscripts always helps my own writing; you become very attuned to what works and what doesn’t and it gives me a sense of objectivity about my own work. I can admit to myself when something I have written is substandard and needs work. It has allowed me to avoid, I hope, cliché and develop my own style. I also don’t get annoyed with other editors, as I know how the whole process works. I welcome people editing my work – the whole point is to make it better. Editors are there to help a writer, not to hinder them. Every writer needs an editor.

What’s the biggest misconception about being a fiction editor that you have come across?

It sounds odd, but I think a lot of general readers don’t realise a book is edited on a structural level. People often think I’m essentially a proof-reader (not belittling proof-readers in any way; it’s just a different job).

I’m fascinated by your description of your writing: “I write fiction and creative non-fiction about the intersections of British sub-culture, landscape, psychogeography, hidden history, nature, horror, weird fiction and more. A lot of it falls under the banner 'landscape punk'”. Can you elaborate more fully on what you mean by this, especially with regards to what you mean by psychogeography? 
 
Psychogeography is something that has become something of a cliché in many ways. It’s a term that has its roots in the French Situationists and the English topographical writers of the 1930s. It was popularised, in the UK at least, by the writer Iain Sinclair who wrote some fantastic books that helped cement my love of London writing as a genre in its own right– Downriver, London Orbital and Hackney: That Rose Red Empire are all essential reads. He ended up disavowing the term, and it’s probably true that Sinclair accidentally opened the doors for a lot of sub-par place writing, of which I am probably a part of. What always interested me was psychogeography’s intersection with weird fiction and horror. There are many examples of this – look at Alan Moore’s From Hell, which draws heavily on the ideas in Sinclair’s Lud Heat (Sinclair turns up in the appendix comic, ‘The Dance of the Gullcatchers’). Arthur Machen, famous to fans of horror and the weird for ‘The Great God Pan’, ‘The White People’, The Hill of Dreams, was also a writer of strange non-fiction books like The London Adventure, essentially one big digression of a book about a failure to write a book about London. Machen transposed the methods he used to explore the Welsh borderland country of his childhood to the streets of London; so psychogeography is a method for exploring a usually-urban environment – paying attention to the details, the things that run counter to the official narratives, the strange graffiti and messages, the layering of history and architecture, the myriad cultures and sub-cultures all co-existing and rubbing up against each other. It ties in to ideas of the occult in its literal meaning i.e. hidden knowledge. So, for me, psychogeography and weird fiction were always natural bed fellows. And as someone who will always consider themselves to be a part of the DIY punk community, itself a half-hidden substratum of society, it seemed obvious to bring that culture into the mix too.
 
It’s about paying attention to the specifics of where you are, which I think is increasingly important in an age where the areas we are encouraged to spend our time – identikit high streets, pseudo-public spaces, neat and clearly signposted parks – are becoming increasingly homogenous. I’m more interested in the skull beneath the skin, as it were. The anxiety produced by the process of gentrification and corporatisation of our urban environments is something that I channel into my fiction. My story ‘Greenteeth’, which has now been adapted into a short film by Adam Scovell (author of Folk Horror: Hours Dreadful and Things Strange), is an example of this – an attempt to use a London environment I adore (the canal network) and make it specifically about the anxiety of a rapidly changing city, but in the tradition of writers like Robert Aickman and Ramsey Campbell. There’s a trailer here.
 
Lazily, psychogeography is a term applied to any kind of writing concerned with place. I am an  admirer of W.G. Sebald, Rebecca Solnit, Robert MacFarlane and so on, but I wouldn’t really call their work psychogeographic. ‘Landscape punk’ is a conscious effort to separate myself from those modes of writing, whilst still following on in that tradition.
 
In the realm of horror and weird fiction, I love books and writers that possess this strong sense of place. I would claim Ramsey Campbell’s Creatures of the Pool, and much of Joel Lane’s work like From Blue to Black, and Where Furnaces Burn, as good examples of this fusion of place-obsession and the weird (Liverpool and Birmingham/the Black Country respectfully). I love M John Harrison’s stories that take place in a mundane London – stuff like ‘The Horse of Iron and How We Can Know It and Be Changed by It’ and ‘A Young Man’s Journey into London’. I love the BBC M.R. James adaptations, A Warning to the Curious and Whistle and I’ll Come to You, that draw maximum effect from their bleak East Anglian landscapes.
 
So the reason I describe my writing that way is that really is what it is. DIY punk, folk, anti-fascist, and SHARP skinhead culture is a massive part of my identity. I have shit Conflict and Oi Polloi tattoos, love Doc Martens and simply love the music and that whole world. I live about ten minutes away from one of the big remaining non-corporate London punk venues, T Chances. It’s great: cash bar, warm tins of Red Stripe, threadbare carpets and a heady smell of the unwashed. The history of Britain’s underground culture is a fascinating parallel narrative and had been a crucial part of my life since I was a teenager. It only seemed natural to write about it. To deny that in the aim of fitting a mould of what a writer should be seemed disingenuous.
 
‘Landscape punk’ as a term was actually coined by my friend, the creator of Hookland and all round excellent person, David Southwell. I stole it off him. Psychogeography had become something of a derisive term; new nature writing was becoming a bit twee; by the time we reached deep topography, the wheels were falling off. So, a new term was needed to describe an approach to landscape and environment that came from the perspective of the person coming from the underground, with a love of the weird and horrible things like genre fiction and grotty punk venues. ‘Landscape punk’ sounded good. We’re still trying to work out what it actually means, but hopefully some academics will do that for us.

You have a deep-rooted love for London, what is it about the city that incites such a love? 


I have lived in London for nearly thirteen years now, as an adult. I was born on its very outer fringes, and a lot of my family are from the city. My mum is from Willesden, a number of family members are buried in Gunnersbury cemetery, my nan who died this year at the ripe age of 100 lived in London before, during, and after the Second World War.
 
I think being both a huge fan of literature and music is a part of it; London looms so large as an idea that it is very hard to ignore – especially if you grew up in the south-east of England where it is the most obvious place to go to escape the small towns. I associate London with reggae sound systems, punk rock, with squat parties, riots, carnivals, raves, pubs, art, literature, multi-culturalism, diversity, good food, and a certain hard-edged inclusivity.  For me, it was an escape from the quotidian realities of small town England that I, probably unfairly, felt I’d grown up in. A place that was a bit dirty, dangerous, fun, exciting, a place where you could lose yourself and find yourself in a different form. Stuff happens here. The sad reality is that London is being bombed by blandness and forcing people out due to huge rises in the cost of living. It’s a ridiculous place in many ways. I may very well end up leaving it, but I it will always have my heart. Essentially, it’s the place I think of as mine.
 
As I’ve mentioned, London is almost a genre of literature in its own right. It generates its own mythologies. It’s not a cinematic city in the way Paris or New York are, but it exists in fictional form in a way that I feel isn’t matched by many other places. Off the top of my head, here are some books that use London as its subject that utterly thrill me: I Was Dora Suraez and He Died With His Eyes Open by Derek Raymond; King Rat by China Mieville; Mother London and King of the City by Michael Moorcock; Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter; The Lowlife by Alexander Baron; The Good Terrorist by Doris Lessing. I could go on for ever.
 
It’s a place that rewards exploration. After many years here, I still find things that surprise me. The challenges of gentrification and the privatisation of public space is a very real issue right now, but London will still reward you if you’re willing to get out there and explore. And by that, I mean walk. Only the other day I decided to go for a walk in an unfamiliar direction and found myself lost somewhere near the North Circular, on the Lee Navigation by a derelict café with flocks of rooks squawking above me and some Polish guys fishing the dirty river. It was great.

What’s your favourite “hidden part of London”?


I have a great deal of love for the flood barrier at Barking creek. People think there’s only one flood barrier in London, but they’re wrong. The spriggan sculpture in the abandoned railway line near Crouch End is also a strong contender. Tottenham cemetery, which is right next to where I live and has the trickle of one of London’s ‘lost’ rivers running through it, has a special kind of magic to it.

What are the stories or the novels that you want to publish through Influx Press? 
Essentially, anything I would want to read that doesn’t yet exist, and might have trouble finding a home elsewhere.

There is a move from the more literary side of the writing world into writing about the weird, traditionally this has been the domain of the lowly genre writer.  Why do you think they are doing this?
 
I always thought of weird fiction as a method rather than a strict genre, a method of getting to a deeper truth than anything strictly realist. The world is fucking weird. And right now, the world appears to resemble a tasteless, surreal and ill-thought out joke. Brexit, Trump, Nazis, ISIS, climate collapse, Love Island and the Bake Off. It’s a weird and frightening world that seems to be untethered from any logic. What better way to address this in fiction than by employing the weird? Weird fiction is reportage from the real world of our psyches.
 
It’s interesting that weird fiction and literary horror has become very visible right now. Thomas Ligotti appears in a Penguin Classics edition! (And he didn’t have to beg for it like Morrissey). Jeff Vandermeer is getting mainstream acclaim. Everyone loves China Mieville. Weird collections like Fen by Daisy Johnson and The Decline of the Great Auk According to One Who Saw It by Jessie Greengrass are being published my mainstream houses. Robert Aickman is back in fashion.
 
I genuinely think this reflects the sour times we live in.
 
One of your stories has been selected to appear in Shadow Booth, how did you come to appear in the anthology? 
 
No great mystery to this one. I know Dan, the editor. We share a love of literary dark fiction and he asked me to contribute something to the journal. I of course said yes, knowing that Dan would allow me to go where I wanted with the story.

Can you tell us about some of the themes of the story? 
 
It’s been a terrible year in London, and the UK in general. Horrific terrorist attacks. Grenfell Tower. Brexit doom hanging over all of us. A chaotic election. The EDL and Britain First marching in central London.
These things affected me more deeply than perhaps I admitted to myself. So, the story is an attempt to get across the feeling of living in a city’s nightmare during a hot and sweaty summer. It’s called ‘Where No Shadows Fall’, which is an inscription I saw on a grave in Tottenham cemetery, and I couldn’t get the phrase out of my head. It’s not a cheerful story.

What has been a major influence on your writing?
 
Everything I have mentioned so far!


The term horror, especially when applied to fiction always carries such heavy connotations.  What’s your feeling on the term “horror” and what do you think we can do to break past these assumptions?

Horror, at its best, is a way of examining our collective fears and anxieties. I feel it is a way to get to a greater truth than strictly realist fiction and really examine what unsettles us; if we can do that, we may be able to overcome that fear and do something about it. For me, horror is not about gore, or sexy vampires. It’s primarily a psychological thing, it’s about incipient madness and the horrors of depression and other mental illness brought on by a sick society. But I don’t mean it should work just as allegory – the monstrous or the supernatural is never just a metaphor. The monsters are really there, even if they are only in our heads. What is reality anyway if not how we perceive and understand the world?

What are the books and films that helped to define you as an author?


I could write a ten-page list here. Books: huge formative influences on me were Grits by Niall Griffiths and The Course of the Heart by M John Harrsion. But honestly, so much stuff. I’m as much influenced by the books of weird and creepy folk stories I read as a child as anything. In terms of film, again there’s so much, but I was very affected by Ben Wheatley’s Kill List when I saw it at the cinema back in 2011. That’s how to do a contemporary British horror story, I thought.

What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice of?
 
Right now, there are some fantastic short story writers I think people should be taking notice of. They are: Eley Williams, Irenosen Okojie, Camilla Grudova, Daisy Johnson and Jessie Greengrass. Fans of weird horror have to check out Malcolm Devlin’s collection You Will Grow Into Them. Aliya Whiteley is a future star so if you haven’t read The Beauty yet, sort it out.

How would you describe your writing style?


Melancholy.

What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult?
 
I’m quite bad at plotting out a short story in advance. I tend to start with just an image, or a phrase, that keeps popping in my head until I decide the time is right to develop it. I procrastinate for ages and then work in big bursts, which is almost certainly not the way they tell you to write. But I’m more of the opinion whatever works for you, works.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?
 
Not really. The more extreme the subject matter though, I’d really have to question what point I was trying to achieve. I don’t like grim subject matter that is there merely to shock or provoke. It’s kind of pornographic, when you think about it.
 
Writing, is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years? 
 
I read some early efforts of mine recently. My god they were dreadful: pretentious, laboured, clearly mimicking writers I loved without adding anything new. I can see, however, a few kernels of good ideas in them, drowning in a sea of nonsense. I think I have developed (I consider myself very much a beginner still) in the sense that I now have the courage to write about the things I am really interested in, in my own style. I think it’s fair to say that even weird fiction itself is at the risk of becoming codified – but I always saw the weird as a method, rather than a concrete genre.
 
When I really thought about what I was interested in, what was it? Well it was London, it was punk rock, birdwatching, folklore, horror, and landscape. I stopped trying to write about what I thought people should write about, and wrote about what mattered to me. I set my stories in the places I knew and that held a deep significance to me, which also meant being honest with myself. Sometimes if the things you care about, and the places and people that mean things to you, are not represented in the fictional world, you can start to think they don’t really matter. They do matter, and if no one has written about the subjects you want to write about, that is more reason to do so, not less.
That’s when I progressed as a writer, and started getting published. Editors especially have good bullshit detectors – we can tell when a writer doesn’t believe in what they’re writing.

What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?
 
In practical terms, time and space to work.
I think all writers need to be curious, and you need to read. Read widely, read outside of your genre, read as many different voices as you can. It only ever helps you.
You need to have the courage of your convictions, unless you’re a fascist of course.

What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing?
 
Cut the first paragraph and see if your story still makes sense. Keep cutting until you reach the actual beginning of your story.

Getting your worked noticed is one of the hardest things for a writer to achieve, how have you tried to approach this subject?


I think I’ve been lucky having a good network that has developed slowly through doing Influx Press, and working at Ambit, Unsung Stories and now Titan Books. I find Twitter very useful for finding like-minded people, but nothing really substitutes for getting out there and doing the things you say you want to do. I really enjoy doing live events, both readings and talks. Of course, not all authors feel this way, and I’m not saying they must, but reading and talking about my work in front of live audiences I always find rewarding, and very beneficial in getting work noticed. There has to be a willingness to put oneself out there, and being aware that not everyone is going to like it, and dealing with that. Writers, those frailest of creatures, ironically must learn to be quite tough.
 
Persistence is the key. Always writing, submitting, doing readings, and being an active part of a community (but not a clique). Believing in what you do and getting on with it will, in the end, pay dividends. This is something the punk scene taught me, and I fully believe in that approach.

To many writers, the characters they write become like children, who is your favourite child, and who is your least favourite to write for and why?


I feel quite sorry for Lisa in ‘Greenteeth’. She doesn’t have a great time, and I liked her. The character I like the least is the narrator of ‘Mission Drift’ because he’s an undercover policeman.

What piece of your own work are you most proud of?
 
I am currently most proud of the final story in my collection Hollow Shores, ‘The Wrecking Days’. It is a real attempt to gather all the strands of my work to date, and to go off the deep end into the weird. I hope it succeeds. I’ve read the story in a few places already and people seem to like it.

And are there any that you would like to forget about?


Some early works of mine I think are weak. Nothing totally shameful though; we all progress, right? And writing things you later hate is part of that progression.

For those who haven’t read any of your books, which of your books do you think best represents your work and why?


I only have one book so far, so it would be Hollow Shores.

Do you have a favorite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us?
 
‘There is one choice in this city. Submersion.’

What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?
 
I loved The Rift by Nina Allan. The Doll’s Alphabet by Camilla Grudova was also deeply impressive. The last book that disappointed me was His Bloody Project by Graeme Macrae Burnett. It had all the elements of books I love – a bloody, anti-pastoral tale of murder in the Scottish highlands sounded like it would be great. But it felt like a clever facsimile, lacking any heart or passion.

What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do?  And what would be the answer?

Q: What’s the best landscape punk song?
 
A: ‘Dead Industrial Atmosphere’ by Leatherface

​Gary Budden's debut collection blends the traditions of weird fiction and landscape writing in an interlinked set of stories from the emotional geographies of London, Kent, Finland and a place known as the Hollow Shore.

The Hollow Shore is both fictional and real. It is a place where flowers undermine railway tracks, relationships decay and monsters lurk. It is the shoreline of a receeding, retreating England. This is where things fall apart, waste away and fade from memory.

Finding horror and ecstasy in the mundane, Hollow Shores follows characters on the cusp of change in broken-down environments and the landscapes of the mind.

Christopher Zeischegg is a writer, musician, and filmmaker who spent eight years working in the adult industry as performer, Danny Wylde.

He's the author of two novels, Come to my Brother and The Wolves that Live in Skin and Space, and has contributed to The Feminist Porn Book, Best Sex Writing, Coming Out Like a Porn Star, Split Lips, and a variety of digital publications, such as Somesuch and Nerve.

His industrial metal band, Chiildren, released their second EP, The Circle Narrows, through Records Ad Nauseam in 2015.

He became the face of Wyldefire Hot Sauce in 2016.

Zeischegg lives in Los Angeles with his two cats, Victoria and Isis.

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?

My name is Christopher Zeischegg. I'm likely more well-known as the ex-porn performer, Danny Wylde.
I've written two novels, Come to my Brotherand The Wolves that Live in Skin and Space. My third book, Body to Job, will be published in February 2018 through Rare Bird Books.

What do you like to do when you're not writing?

I'm a video editor by trade. And a workaholic. So most of my time is spent editing or writing.
Outside of that, I enjoy growing old and boring: attending art galleries and gardens, reading novels, and feeling resentful that I've attended some shit metal concert.

Other than the horror genre, what else has been a major influence on your writing?

As a teenager, I read the most obvious and well-circulated 'transgressive' authors, like Bret Easton Ellis, Chuck Palahniuk, and the Marquis de Sade.
In my twenties, I was turned on to Dennis Cooper and Michel Houellebecq. They aren't really horror writers. But they deal with sex, death, art, and satire. I still enjoy this kind of work.

My published work, thus far, is very personal. Probably narcissistic. It's very much about my relationships and my experiences as a sex worker. So life is an influence? I think the popular term for my writing is auto-fiction. My stories are predominantly memoirs that bleed into violent, magical-realism.

Aside from the aforementioned, I'm influenced by the aesthetic of hardcore, death, and black metal. I was very into that 'scene' as a teenager. The music is emotional, and often uses myth and extreme violence as metaphor for personal struggle.

The term horror, especially when applied to fiction always carries such heavy connotations. What’s your feeling on the term “horror” and what do you think we can do to break past these assumptions?

Most genre work isn't viewed as serious literature. Horror is no exception. But who cares? 'Genre' is usually more fun. And there will always be an audience.

A lot of good horror movements have arisen as a direct result of the socio/political climate, considering the current state of the world where do you see horror going in the next few years?

I hope that I don't become too political. Sure, historically-speaking, thiskind of political-horror or political-art was appropriate and even necessary. 'Awareness' hadn't yet become a joke or meme.

Now we have a constant stream of information; of news. Art no longer needs to inform the public. They already have access to everything. So when we address politics, it's mostly just propaganda and opinion. And because art doesn't deal with direct action, except for the donation of funds or something, I feel like it's mostly posturing. I might still dabble in that, because I'm a human being and want people to like me. But I hope it's less and less.

What are the books and films that helped to define you as an author?

Dennis Cooper's The Slutsand Michel Houllebecq's The Map and the Territorywere particularly eye-opening for me. Maybe, in terms of thinking about horror, Eugene Thacker's In the Dust of this Planet.

What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice off?

This isn't horror at all. But the best book I read, by a 'new' author, this past year was literally show me a healthy personby Darcie Wilder. Hilarious and heartbreaking, and so, so contemporary.

How would you describe your writing style?

I love minimalism, though I'm trying to experiment with other styles.In terms of content: emotional, sexual (not erotic), and violent.

Are there any reviews of your work, positive or negative that have stayed with you?

I received my first really bad review about my book, The Wolves that Live in Skin and Space, from
a Salt Lake City e-zine. They called it “dialogue-driven, spunk covered, [and] nihilistic” and complained about the “erection-driven situations and unwarranted philosophical extrapolations.” It bummed me out at first. But now I find it funny and kind of motivating.

What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult?

The actual writing part. It's a great feeling to think about writing. It's a great feeling to sit down and have time to write. It's a great feeling when I've finished some writing. The rest of it is very slow and difficult for me. So it's a lot like going to the gym.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?

I'm not sure. I haven't made any ultimatums like that.

How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?

In my first book, I chose names of my family members. It's very embarrassing when I consider the content. But I thought of it like a joke that they'd never catch on to, because none of them would read it. Now, I just think about the character's background and try to pick something that sounds nice enough.

Writing is not a static process. How have you developed as a writer over the years?

I used to only think about the story and content. Now I trust in my voice and in what I have to say. So craft is more important to me. As a result, I hope my work is easier and more enjoyable to read.

What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?

I don't have a great answer for this. Time? A loyal patron?

What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing?

I can't think of specifics. But I remember a professor I had at the University of Southern California who told me to knock off a few of my stylistic flourishes. I appreciated that. There have also been some editors at online magazines that knocked my ego down a few pegs. I feel like those experiences are necessary to grow.

Getting your worked noticed is one of the hardest things for a writer to achieve, how have you tried to approach this subject?

I ran a blog for a number of years. It was called Trve West Coast Fiction, and dealt mostly with my experiences in the adult industry. That brought me some attention. But it's always hard to get people to notice your work. Especially when it's not for free and/or accompanied by a click-bait headline. I use social media and mailing lists. Marketing is obviously the worst part of the process.

To many writers, the characters they write become like children, who is your favourite child, and who is your least favourite to write for and why?

Like I mentioned before, most of my published work is about me. I'm aware of the narcissism that goes along with that, so there's a lot of self-loathing. The characters I'm drawn to are the ones that treat 'my character' very badly.

What piece of your own work are you most proud of?

I have a book coming out in February, called Body to Job. It's the culmination of about six years of writing. In short, it's a (almost) memoir about my career in porn and the aftermath of my forced retirement. I think it ends in a very bad place, emotionally speaking. But it's the most dynamic of my work.

And are there any that you would like to forget about?

There are articles I've written for online magazines that are worth throwing in the trash. But I'm mostly okay with the books. I just re-released Come to my Brother. It was my first novel, and the most young and overwrought. Still, I'm very proud of it.

For those who haven’t read any of your books, which of your books do you think best represents your work and why?

If Body to Job was available, I'd say to start there. But I'm currently promoting Come to my Brother, so people should obviously read that one. Hah.

Can you tell us about your last book, and can you tell us about what you are working on next?

Come to my Brother is my first novel. But I've just released a revised and updated version. It's a coming-of-age, queer drama. And it's a vampire fiction. So it deals with the emotional turmoil of teenage boys, and with sex, and with my own concept of vampire mythology. I wouldn't say it's scary. The horror tropes are there to create a mood, and to allow for more outrageous acts of violence.

Currently, I'm at work on my fourth book. It's the most daunting thing I've attempted. Because I've involved a photographer and producer, and many other people, to create photo and video tableaus to accompany the text. In theory, it will be like an illustrated novel, but with photos instead of drawings or paintings. It's proving – financially – very difficult to accomplish because we're essentially making a movie. But the text deals with sex work, addiction, and black magick. That's all I can really say at this point.

If you could erase one horror cliché what would be your choice?

I don't care. Most clichés can be transformed into something tasteful with enough talent and craft. I should, at least, believe that if I'm going to pitch a vampire novel in 2017.

What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?

I recently finished After Kathy Ackerby Chris Kraus. It's a biography of the transgressive, new narrative author, Kathy Acker. In many ways, it made me think less of Acker and more of Kraus. I'd watched the ILove Dickadaptation on Amazon, and had been meaning to check out more of Kraus' work. Now I'm more inspired to do so. Her writing is clean and very considerate of its subject.

The last book to disappoint me? Maybe A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. I'd heard so much about it from friends and from the press. It's fucking bland and trite, in my opinion. But I only made it 100 pages in. So take my opinion with a grain of salt.


What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do? And what would be the answer?

I'm sorry to fail at answering this final question. ​

"David and Daniel Grew up together in Northern California. They became friends and then brothers; started a band and then became lovers.
But Daniel disappeared four years ago, and he's come back as some kind of monster.
The young men's reunion could bring about the end of the world.
Christopher Zeischegg's first novel is updated and revised, and still entrenched in the canon of horror, loss, porn, and coming of age in the early 2000's."

Marjorie Kaye lives in Southern California. After working as an actress and then for many years as a casting director in film, she decided to get a real job, and  became a credentialed English teacher working in East LA and the San Fernando Valley. Ah, good plan. As usual, her  timing was impeccable. The economy tanked and she lost her teaching job, however all was not lost: While she was teaching English, she started to write.

She has  always loved a good horror novel so decided to write one. The Demon Rift is her first novel, 

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?
 
My family history includes Great Uncle Arthur, who had been an inmate at the Ohio State Penitentiary, which famously burned to the ground in 1930, killing 320 prisoners.   No one knows what caused the prison to burn, but there are stories of ghosts--prisoners still trapped where the prison once stood. The early part of the 20th century was a hard time to be poor, especially if you were a child. I grew up hearing my grandfather's (Uncle Arthur’s brother) stories about being a “charity kid” in an Ohio orphanage during the early 1900’s. These stories led to my novel, The Demon Rift.

What do you like to do when you're not writing?
 
I watch a lot of TV news (mostly MSNBC) trying to make sense of the alternate universe that I now inhabit. I do lots of crossword puzzles (they’re very soothing) and I read magazines, a habit I developed when I was working in casting. I’m interested in science news—in fact I wrote my second book after reading an article by Ray Kurzweil about mind uploading.


Other than the horror genre, what else has been a major influence on your writing?
 
When I was fifteen, we moved from Kentucky to a small house in Glendale, California, where I discovered a treasure--a cardboard box filled with science fiction paperbacks.  Heinlein's Have Spacesuit Will Travel was the only sci fi novel that I had come across in the small Kentucky library I left behind.  It was a blissful summer.  There were stories by Asimov, Sturgeon, Bradbury and eerie novels like The Circus of Dr. Lao. I have loved science fiction since the house in Glendale. My second book, Tales From Babylon Dreams is science fiction. It takes place in an “after death destination,” where people can continue to exist, provided they can afford it. 

The term horror, especially when applied to fiction always carries such heavy connotations.  What’s your feeling on the term “horror” and what do you think we can do to break past these assumptions?


You’re right; these connotations imply “for less sophisticated readers.” I’m all for great prose and profundity, just don’t bore me. On my own blog, I reviewed Alex Shakar’s novel, Luminarium a book that deals with the nature of reality. It was very dense, but I stayed with it because I cared about the character and what happens. A critic in the New York Sunday Times Book Review, lamented that it  “. . . might have yielded a schematic novel of ideas, if Shakar weren’t so committed to showing his readers a good time." You can’t do both? I don’t have any answers when it comes to these assumptions. I wish I did.
 
Horror addresses an important part of being human: our sense of vulnerability when confronting the unknown. When we read a horror novel or see a scary movie, while enjoying a safe ride through a nightmare, we witness terrible things. Feeling a kinship with the characters, we sigh in relief when it all turns out well. On occasion, there’s an unhappy ending and most of us can shrug it off because it isn’t personal; it’s pretend. I think any horror novel that offers a new approach to old material, strong characters, sound structure and a clearly defined conflict deserves respect. An example is David Mitchell’s Slade House a novel tied to his earlier, much longer book, The Bone Clocks. I felt that in The Bone Clocks, his prose dazzled but upstaged everything else and I stopped caring about the outcome. I appreciate reading something that takes a fresh look at what scares us, but I need to care about the characters and what happens. Mitchell does this with the nasty soul eaters in Slade House, a shorter novel where the prose serves the story rather than the opposite.

A lot of good horror movements have arisen as a direct result of the socio/political climate, considering the current state of the world where do you see horror going in the next few years?
 
Social media is a proven source of real life horror. It has played a role in a few pieces, mostly film.  I think it can also yield some interesting plotlines. Perhaps North Korean zombies are on Snapchat. No? How about a Facebook page for Ku Klux cross-burning vampires?  I used a social media setting in a short story, “The Seventh Folding of Willow Sprite.” It concerns a gamer, whose romantic interludes with her online lover take place in an alternate reality. The boyfriend lives in the Seventh Dimension. Ultimately, she becomes two dimensional before her unfortunate end.
 
Then there’s virtual reality, a whole new medium that requires the development of a different story telling language and new conventions. VR technology offers opportunities, challenges and hopefully, very exciting horror. It may be a little too real for some people.

What are the books and films that helped to define you as an author?
 
In A Tale of Two Cities, Dickens comments on doors and that behind each, there’s a story. Whether or not you choose to write it, every character in a narrative, no matter how minor, has a story. When I was a teenager, I read Earth Abides by George R. Stewart. It was a post apocalyptic novel, written in the late 40’s. I remember being touched by the scene where Bridget, a bewildered Irish setter cries for her master. Her grief expresses something profound: the loss of a world. I’ve read several novels by James Michener. I was fascinated by his use of a single setting as he built one story upon another, as time built layers of soil on the ground where they all took place. When I began to write the novel, The Demon Rift, I based it on a screenplay that I had co-written with a friend who was a professional screenwriter. Reading Michener had an influence on the way I chose to structure my book. To answer my own questions about these characters, I expanded the time frame and built my novel by interweaving their family histories into a tapestry that unfolds in a single setting.
 
Nabokov was another influence. Gunter, an amoral narcissist, is the narrator of my second book. Gunter has a lot in common with Humbert Humbert, the pedophile narrator of Lolita.

What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice off?
 
I have read several authors, who though established, were new to me. I’ve recently discovered Claire North’s work. After reading The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, I am currently reading two more of her works. I was very impressed by the simple but chilling The Bird Box, Josh Molerman’s 2014 novel, but a bit disappointed by the new novel by Victor LaSalle, The Changeling. The story meandered and fell apart at the end, but LaSalle’s prose is lovely so I’m open to reading more.
 
Paul Tremblay’s Head Full of Ghosts was powerful and unsettling, however I think his second book, Disappearance at Devil’s Rock, was weaker. Though working with the same elements of character relationships, a possible supernatural event and tragedy, it lacked the fierce, unsettling madness that made the first one so compelling.
 
One new writer, Dennis E. Taylor, self-published his first science fiction novel, We Are Legion, We Are Bob. He had me at the title. The novel is a witty take on AI and space exploration. Bob, the AI first person narrator, is very likeable and quite funny. I was invested for much of the story, enough that I bought the two sequels, which predictably aren’t as good but still engaging.
 
How would you describe your writing style?
 
Although it’s not a necessary part of writing a horror novel (The Bird Box has none but still manages to pack a considerable scare) I use a lot of humor. It’s a family thing. We’re all that way. It’s one zinger after another when we get together. I can’t help it.
 
There’s much to love about Charles Dickens, but it’s his humor, his sly observations of human nature that I love the most. It’s been years since I read The Shining, but I still remember the dialogue from the scene where the old man briefed Jack Torrance on caring for the boiler. When Stephen King sends a chill up the spine, it’s often via the funnybone.

Are there any reviews of your work, positive or negative that have stayed with you?
 
Yes, several readers complained that the timeline changed so frequently in first pages that they were confused. In response, I created a narrator, a sort of guide to help the reader follow the story and understand the relationships.
 
I was very pleased when a reviewer said he was touched by the way I handled scenes that involved the deaths of different characters.

What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult?


I wish I were more disciplined. Sometimes writing is the most fun I’ll ever have. More often, it’s rolling that rock up a hill and wondering if I’ll ever get there. Technically, pacing is difficult—building the action to a satisfying conclusion, one that your readers haven’t already anticipated.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?


My family. That’s not to say I don’t mine aspects of my own life and character or use things that I’ve observed in others. I don’t want to hurt or insult anyone, especially people I care for. It’s also self-preservation. I don’t want to be dodging zingers at family get-togethers. They know all the right buttons to push. There will be no tell-alls. Sorry Oprah.

How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?
 
Names are important. Often, I’ll choose a name for its sound or because I knew someone who reminded me of the character. In the case of my second novel, I named the protagonist Gunter Holden, a privileged but troubled “golden boy,” for Gunter Gräss who wrote The Tin Drum, a nightmarish look at the Third Reich and Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield.
 
And, of course titles are extremely important—the first thing that catches your attention.
 
Writing, is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years? 


I keep an open mind when given feedback, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts. And again, it’s discipline. None of us like staring at the monitor, knowing that the first rattle out of the creative brain box is usually a tuning process, revving the system so that it might yield something useful. I’ve learned more about the craft. For a short time, I committed to writing movie reviews for a website.  Those craft-related skills helped me meet deadlines. It’s amazing, when you have to produce, you do.  

What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?  
 
An interest in what goes on around you—the littlest thing can spark an idea. Years ago, I knew someone who collected thimbles. In The Demon Rift, a character collects thimbles. It is her way of connecting with places outside her rural existence. Another example is when a friend remarked that his coffee always tasted better in a white cup. I loved the sound of the words “better in a white cup.” It seemed one of those personal bits of magic we use to create our own reality. In my second book, Gunter always wants his coffee in a “white cup.” This character quirk reveals something important about him at the end.
 
It’s important to keep reading the work of other writers.
 
A good vocabulary and a grasp of the basics of grammar are a must.
 
I value friends who will read my work and give honest feedback, especially one who loves me but who will be ruthless when necessary.

What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing?


One of my sisters is a lifelong and dedicated reader of horror and science fiction. When I started writing, she schooled me on the conventions common to horror, like making sure that all the important women in the story, which spans 120 years, shared certain traits and that they were connected in some way. She was very helpful when it came to setting and exposition details. She would give an example; I would run with it, and we would both marvel at the result.

Getting your worked noticed is one of the hardest things for a writer to achieve, how have you tried to approach this subject?
 
By far, this is the most difficult for me. I’ve tried several avenues like chat groups, which can be a minefield if they think you’re there only to promote your work. I did find a readers group I liked, but it was a strain to stay with it. I’m not a social animal. I have a book page on Facebook, an author’s page on Amazon and a wordpress blog where I promote my book and post book and movie reviews I’ve written—mostly horror and sci fi.
 
And here I am, waving my white hanky at you.
 
To many writers, the characters they write become like children, who is your favourite child, and who is your least favourite to write for and why?
 
My goodness, you’re asking me to choose among my book children? Okay. In The Demon Rift, there’s a hardened eleven-year old orphan, Patty, whom I call “The fragile warrior.” Her courage and the way she protects those she loves touches me. I love her voice—she has no illusions.  My least favorite is the villain, Bernie. To understand him, I wrote a number of scenes from his point of view. Several are in the book. His mind is pathetic and totally icky.


In the second novel, I can’t help it; I’m in love with my incorrigible narcissist, Gunter. Is that so wrong?

What piece of your own work are you most proud of?
 
That’s a tough one. I’m proud of different work for different reasons. When it comes to The Demon Rift, I’m proud that I kept working on it and didn’t give up. My first priority was to write a story with a new supernatural twist that people would enjoy.  I wanted to know how the supernatural part came about and why, so I kept asking questions. Why did these rules of magic exist and why were they binding? Some writers allow the reader to fill in the blanks and it works just fine. I chose to develop both sides of the good vs evil equation. It helped me strengthen the relationships and reach, in my opinion, a more satisfying conclusion.

And are there any that you would like to forget about?
 
I wouldn’t want people to read some of the early drafts of The Demon Rift. There are the beginnings of stories that I will regret if I don’t revisit them at some point. When it comes to writing, I was a late bloomer—very late. I started writing because I needed a creative outlet and teaching left me little free time. It’s been an enlightening process. I had always assumed that good writers were born that way. I’ve known several writers and was always a bit in awe of them. Now, because of self-publishing, everyone and their Aunt Tilly is a writer. And there are a lot of good writers named Tilly. It’s easy to get lost in the Amazon jungle. I dearly wish I could navigate the world of social media more effectively. Still, I don’t regret all the time and effort and I love to research.
 
For those who haven’t read any of your books, which of your books do you think best represents your work and why?
 
I’ve written two. One is unpublished. The first one is The Demon Rift, a horror novel with a timeline of 120 years so there are historical aspects. It has a lot of characters and a high stakes conflict (the entire universe is in peril). The Rift is about the need to survive versus what we owe our fellow humans and society in general.
 
Like everyone, I’m a work in progress. Truthfully, I can’t say anything I’ve written is completely representative. Different facets of me are reflected in my work.

Do you have a favorite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us? 
 
From The Demon Rift, the end of a scene that takes place in a turn-of-the century Cleveland orphanage:
 
“Mrs. Murphy was trying to say something. Her lips were wide ridges supporting the drooping folds of what had been her nose.  As she opened her mouth, the tissue formed an oblong opening the size of a jellybean. Steam began to leak out, along with a long whistle. 
        A teakettle, thought Mrs. Kray.  Still whistling, Mrs. Murphy collapsed on the floor.  Maryanne was whimpering.  Mrs. Kray scooped the little girl into her arms, as the other children continued to cry. As she comforted Maryanne and began to collect her senses, Mrs. Kray saw Bernie standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s finally grown a little, she thought; it’s about time. He was eating something.  It was a potato peel, the lunch she discovered later, that Mrs. Murphy ordered served to him on his tray.”


Can you tell us about your last book, and can you tell us about what you are working on next?
 
The second one is Tales From Babylon Dreams (unpublished). It’s a sci fi novel, taking place almost entirely in virtual reality. The virtual reality setting is portrayed as an unremarkable product of society, so prevalent that there are lobbyists promoting the rights of virtuals—citizens, who as they die, have their minds scanned by nanobots and uploaded to their chosen virtual environment program. These programs are expensive and marketed like high tech gated communities. Compared to the Rift, there are fewer characters. The voice of Gunter, the first person narrator is very important. Within this world, which changes after a company merger, the mind data of its citizens is vulnerable. Gunter’s secrets, buried in his memory folders, are revealed. A breach in his file results in his being forced to confront events in his life and he learns hard truths about his family and his past.


I’m working on two new novels at present. The Daevas is about a woman who since childhood, has been stalked by a family of demi-gods. The protagonist and I have a lot in common (though demi-gods rarely trail me). The other one, Shemathra’s Realm is a sequel to Tales From Babylon Dreams. It takes place in the same VR program, now controlled by a different VR company, owned by a media mogul (think Rupert Murdoch) who has transitioned to VR as a god and leader of a new cult. Rather than first person, it’s a third person narrative about the worship of power and how group-think can destroy civilization. Within this virtual reality environment, members of the cult manifest as herd animals. They dominate, exploit and marginalize non-members—the virtual humans who remained after the take over.
 
If you could erase one horror cliché what would be your choice?


This is a comment from a review I wrote about McCammon’s Swan Song mentions a plot device, overused in post apocalyptic novels. Since writing this, I have read and greatly enjoyed almost all of his work, including his Matthew Corbett mysteries.


“This novel was long, way too long--over 800 pages. McCammon could have carved out at least two hundred pages of that fruit-and-nut ingredient necessary to every post apocalypse mix: the military mad men, the crazies and the religious zealots.”

What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?
 
In terms of horror novels, the clinging dread of The Bird Box stayed with me for days after I finished it. The madness of the “possessed” teenage girl, Marjorie, in Tremblay’s Head Full of Ghosts unsettled me. There was one scene in LaSalle’s The Changeling that made me gasp. Currently, I’m reading Michael McDowell’s The Elementals. I’ve read so many positive reviews of it that I have high expectations, often a disadvantage.
 
I was disappointed in Cronin’s The Passage. The first two hundred pages were really good. I thought the 600 plus pages that followed weren’t even close to good. It was a major letdown.

What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do?  And what would be the answer?
 
Considering all the effort, time and frustration involved, is writing worth it? Yes it is.

Gabriel, how did you get into producing?

I think it was mostly a natural progression of making movies, something I started doing as a kid.  I was 8 years old when Star Wars came out, and I found my father’s Super8mm film camera around the same time.  I started shooting short films with my siblings and cousins, and the projects got more elaborate over the years.

By the time I was 15, I was winning film festivals across the nation, and I began working professional in the industry around that time as well.  Making movies is a business, so the older I got, I just started to take the reins and make things happen.

I’m one of the owners of Traplight Pictures, along with my two amazing partners, Jared Cohn and Demtrius Stear.  A big shout out to them!
 
And was it a given that you’d go into doing horror?

I love genre filmmaking.  Horror, science-fiction and fantasy.  There was never a plan to do so much horror.  It’s just the way things worked out over the years, and all the pieces fell into place.  It’s funny how things come together sometimes.
As a producer, I might pitch a slate of movies to an investor, and it’s always a coin toss which movie or movies they’ll agree to finance.  I’ve had the most elaborate projects I believed in get rejected, and my least preferred get greenlit.  That’s just the way things out sometimes.  You can never second-guess an audience’s reaction.
 
Where does Death Pool fall – it is a straight-up horror or something more of a psychological thriller?

I think it’s definitely a combination of the two.  It’s not a straight-up horror film by any means.  It’s more a study of the character Johnny Taylor and how he becomes a serial killer.  So it’s also very much a psychological thriller, in that regard.
The audience is literally there the first time he commits a crime, and we stay with him as he commits more and more, until he becomes famous on social media.
 
How would you describe the tone?

The tone of the movie is dark and ominous.  There’s something very twisted about our main character, and then things become even more sinister when his thoughts and actions rub off on his best friend.

When you think about it, there’s nothing fun about what the main character does.  But like with any dark comedy or dark drama, audiences will resonate with the anti-hero of the story.  As much as you dislike this type of character, audiences are still engaged with his or her malevolence, and you want to see where his twisted psyche will take him.

Think of the movies American Psycho, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, Natural Born Killers or even Silence of the Lambs.  Audiences loved those movies, and Death Pool is similar in nature to all of them.
 
What kind of direction did Jared Cohn give Randy Wayne?  Guess he had to make sure he didn’t play things too over the top?

Randy brought the character of Johnny Taylor to life.  He knew the character and his motivations very well before we began shooting, and he knew exactly how much to bring to the surface, and how much to hold back.  I can’t say enough how talented Randy is.
Jared of course gave direction, but the collaboration between them was very smooth and the result very convincing.  Randy comes across as a truly psychotic serial killer.  Hats off to both actor and director!
 
The ‘shock factor’ seems to be a big thing with the film.  Did you intentionally want to push the boundaries on this one?

It was definitely something we did on purpose.  The scenes were already written in the screenplay, and we tried to make the death scenes as believable as possible, as well as the party scenes with all the drug abuse.  If we held back on that stuff, the movie wouldn’t have looked as real and gritty as it came out.
We had not only amazing actors in the starring roles, but some amazing supporting actors as well, who helped flesh everything out.  Jordan Preston, Shawn Philips, Delpaneaux Wills, Walker Mintz and Jessica Lousie Long, for example, gave amazing performances.
I should mention as much as we pushed the drownings to look real, we pushed even more for safety at all times.  As executive producer, that was definitely something that was always on my mind.
 
The film is getting great reviews.  Why do you think audiences are taking to it?
​
I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised in a good way that there are such great reviews of the movie coming out.  I think it has a lot to do with the realism that Randy and all the other actors brought to the characters.  There’s a very real feel to the movie, and it comes across as very gritty and ominous.
The locations we shot on were all real, and our production designer Richard Calderon made everything else look so legitimate and realistic.  The sets and the props were carefully designed and assembled, but you could never tell.  I mean, even the beer bottles were fake!  I walked on the set one day, and Richard was putting fake labels on bottles filled with water, but they looked like something he just bought from the liquor store.
​

Can you remember what first triggered your love for the horror genre?

It started when I was very young in the early 70's - Hammer Horror films were a big part of early viewing and then I was obsessed with Horror Comics and build up plastic kits(Aurora glow in the Dark).  Once the mid to late 70's hit there were so many good films on VHS that I couldn't help fall in love with horror.

Horror in all of its artistic forms is generally held in low regard by the population as a whole, what film, book and piece of art would you use to change someone's opinion on the genre.  

I would say read a horror book that isn't just a blood bath. Most horror films and books centralise on being bloody - hence why some people may view it as just nasty.  Books such as Joe Hill's - Heart Shaped Box are a good example as are the films Sinister (for modern fans) and The Exorcist (For the old boys like me).  In my opinion too many writers focus on being overly gory and forget about story - mind you this can be said about almost all genres today. 

 And on the flip side of the previous question, what film, book, and a piece of art would you confine to room 101 for crimes against the genre?

Oh that's a hard one.  I'm not a huge fan of remakes, but I'm also not opposed to them.  Personally, I think the remake of Nightmare on Elm Street did nothing for the franchise other than make Freddy K out to be nothing more than a pedophile which in my opinion wasn't the major feeling from the first films.

This has been a terrible year for fans with regards to the deaths of some of the genres finest, not that anyone could replace the likes of Hooper or Romero, but who do you think are new directors that could step into their shoes?

Again it depends on which era your are from I guess as I'm a huge fan of both directors already mentioned - I'd however love to see more from Rob Zombie as his films are top notch!

How does one go from being a horror fan to a horror fan who also happens to run the biggest and most successful series of horror conventions in the UK?  

Lol thanks for the very kind compliment.  I'm one of those people who always wants to break new ground.  What I learn from attending shows, I try to expand upon and deliver in a more exciting manner.  When I went to my first couple of Horror Cons in the UK,  I quickly realised that there was so much scope for improvement and hopefully that's showing in the events I'm now putting on.  

 Looking back at the first couple of conventions, how far have you evolved as a convention runner, and what are the main lessons you have learned from those conventions?

I've learnt so much it's incredible.  I think the main thing to do is to listen to your audience and where possible give them what they want.  It's nothing new and exciting just good business sense.

Do you still get a buzz when you open the doors for the first day of a convention?  
Always - there's no feeling quite like it.

How much work goes into a convention, and how do you keep track of all the things that require attention?

There is a big team of people working on the conventions at any one time.  Without them I'd be lost. The planning starts 12 months before any event and never stops till we close the doors at the end of the show.

Many conventions turn their noses up at the whole Cosplay scene, but yours always have embraced them, is there a reason for this?

Yes, the whole concept of going to a convention is to have a fun day out. I can't think of a better way of expressing yourself than by being someone else for a few hours and let's face it - everyone loves to be centre of attention for a few moments.

Out of all of the guests who have appeared over the years who have been your personal favourites?  

Ah that's like asking me which of my kids do I prefer lol!  I have a great relationship with all of my guests, but as I'm a fan of the Hammer films and the scream queens from them adorned my bedroom walls for many years, I'd have to go with the beautiful Caroline Munro.  Not only is she gorgeous, but she's a wonderful woman too. 

 And how do you deal with a "difficult guest of honour"?

Lol, everyone wants to be number one don't they!  We just make sure everyone is treated as number one!

 And who is the one guest that you love to have but have never been able to secure?  

There are a couple - it's not so much we can't secure them, it's cost against return.  I won't mention names as we are in talks still.  But for me one awesome guest would have been the late Christopher Lee.

Liverpool Horror Con is not far away now, how prepared are you for the event?

We're pretty much on top of it  There's still lots to do but it's shaping up nicely.

At what point after the event, can you finally draw breath and relax?  

Once all the doors shut on Sunday night.......not really.  Once the traders are all set up and sorted I know things will go smooth from there on in.

What can attendees expect from this convention, who are some of the special guests you have lined up?  

Fun!  Excitement.  Horror!  Special guests - CJ Graham, Jamison Newlander, Sean Whalen, need I say more!

For those who have never been to one of your conventions, what would you say to convince them to come along?  

If you are looking to attend a show that is genre specific then please check us out.  We have guests, talks and panels, exhibits, traders, cosplay, films and more.  It's not scary and it's not comic con - it's somewhere that you and likeminded horror fans can express your love for the world of the unknown.

Most of your conventions are based in England, do you have any plans to host one in Scotland?  (Hint, hint, Edinburgh has some good convention halls).  

Funnily enough I'm on my way up to view a premises in Edinburgh on 18th September!

With a limited edition hardback featuring a stunning painted cover by legendary poster artist Graham Humphreys (The Evil Dead, A Nightmare On Elm Street) and a series of eerie black and white interior illustrations from Cardiff artist Adam Blandon, new author Liam Ronan is making his debut in style. He’s written screenplays and has had his work showcased on ITV, but ‘Creeping Stick’, out now from Pendragon Press, marks his first foray into horror fiction. 

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?

I’m a first generation Star Wars kid, a child of the video shop era. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that prolonged exposure to the dreaded video nasties had a profound effect on me. That probably explains why I asked Graham Humphreys to do the cover for ‘Creeping Stick’, he did some of his best work on sleeves for Palace and the like... 

I grew up in a Welsh steel town during what I consider to be a minor golden age of independent music and great genre film and literature. Not that it was easy getting hold of any of it - it’s all at your fingertips now, but back then, we had to really work at hunting down our guilty pleasures.

What do you like to do when you're not writing?

I still have a day job – I’m a communications manager working directly with the media – so most of my spare time is also my writing time. But I like to read, watch cult films, have fun with my wife and sons. We walk a lot. Most of the places we visit end up featuring in my writing in one form or another – the Welsh valleys, Kenfig National Nature Reserve, Sker Beach, Margam Country Park, places like that. South Wales has a great haunted landscape.

Other than the horror genre, what else has been a major influence on your writing?

Music, without a doubt. I play a lot of soundtracks when I write –‘Halloween III’, ‘28 Weeks Later’, ‘Living Dead At The Manchester Morgue’, ‘Angel Heart’…  You can’t listen to the score for ‘The Fog’ without getting serious chills. I just find it inspiring. If it’s an action set piece, something like ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’ or ‘The Warriors’ will do the job. Those cheap ambient albums you find in gift shops and garden centres can do the trick, too – the ones with titles like ‘Thunderstorm Symphony’ or ‘Coastal Melodies’. Seriously!

I was also lucky in that my father owned some land and kept animals, so a lot of my childhood was spent building stables, driving tractors, helping hill farmers bring in the harvest, that sort of thing. I loved working with my dad. He would tell me stories from growing up in Ireland, stuff about hearing the banshee on the night his brother died or how his mother had been bewitched by fairies while walking home along a dark country lane. All good ‘folk horror’ stuff.

It definitely helped shape my interests later on. I learned as much as I could about our own Welsh legends – the sin eaters, the sweet-smelling death poppies that foretold disaster, the ghostly hounds of Annwn loping along Morfa Beach, the death-knock of the Tolaeth, the voices of the judged locked within the stone walls of the Prince of Wales pub in Kenfig ... have you ever seen the Mari Llwyd? It’s more of a benevolent tradition than a legend, but it involves someone going from house to house dressed in a white shroud with a horse’s skull for a head. I’ve seen it for myself, and was amazed at how grotesque and eerie it looked! 

That’s what I love about living and writing in Wales, though. There’s a real sense of otherworldliness here, and I try to put that across in my writing. 

The term horror, especially when applied to fiction, always carries such heavy connotations.  What’s your feeling on the term “horror” and what do you think we can do to break past these assumptions

Personally, I don’t care if someone likes the term or not. It’s a badge of honour. Stephen King once said that being labelled a horror writer put him in the same company as HP Lovecraft, Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Bloch, all those guys... That’s not too shabby, is it? 

A lot of good horror movements have arisen as a direct result of the socio/political climate, considering the current state of the world where do you see horror going in the next few years? 
Well, let’s see… the ‘70s were angry and disenfranchised and gave us ‘The Texas Chain Saw Massacre’, ‘Last House On the Left’ and so on. The ‘80s were greedy – lots of consumer classics like ‘Reanimator’ and ‘Society’ there. The ‘90s seemed a little bit lost, really, but from 2000 to now, I think we’ve basically been paving the way for a return to the anger of the ‘70s. God, I hope so… There’s plenty to feel angry about.

What are the books and films that helped to define you as an author?

‘The Outsiders’ by SE Hinton. It still blows my mind that she wrote it while still a teenager. They teach about it now in the school my kids attend, but I discovered it at Taibach Library in Port Talbot, where I spent many a rainy Saturday afternoon as a child, and loved it. It really, really moved me. I mean, I can still quote the lines where Johnny dies in the hospital. 

‘The Keep’ by F Paul Wilson taught me the power of a good hook via the classic blurb line ‘Request immediate relocation. Something is murdering my men’.  ‘The Tomb’ was great too, I always imagined an in-his-prime Mickey Rourke playing Repairman Jack… 

Anything, and I mean anything, by Joe Lansdale, but especially ‘The Bottoms’, ‘The Big Blow’ and ‘Mucho Mojo’. I also love John Connolly’s work. He does something with the landscape, makes it a character all of its own… I could talk about this stuff all day.

What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice of? 

Hmm… well, there’s me, for a start! ‘Creeping Stick’ is my debut, and I have a few others on the way. ‘Mist Angels’ will probably be next. I also have an idea for a follow-up to ‘Creeping Stick’ that is vaguely related to its themes without being a direct sequel. We’ll see.

How would you describe your writing style?

It depends on the nature and topic of what I’m writing. With ‘Creeping Stick’ there is a sense of forbidden knowledge and the unknown at play, but wherever the ‘real life’ aspects are concerned, I’m a big believer in tying up loose ends and making sure everything makes sense. No room for half measures… 

Back in 2007 ITV screened a comedy I’d written called ‘What Goes On Tour’. I packed it full of colloquial terms and phrases, the sort of very broad humour that you would find in the Welsh valleys. 

‘Creeping Stick’ is my first published book, but in many ways it is not typical of the sort of thing I normally write. It’s set during some unspecified, pseudo-Victorian era, so I’ve presented the text accordingly. It also moves from Victorian Gothic to American Gothic, so there’s a shift there, too. It is partly inspired by what I thought Lucio Fulci didn’t show us in his classic horror film ‘The House By the Cemetery’, all those ghastly processes and procedures that Doctor Freudstein must have developed to keep himself alive down in his basement lair.

I have something else I am working on, a horror story that takes place during the Vietnam war, so I’ve been heavily researching that to try and capture the authentic feel and tone that kind of very specific setting demands. 

Are there any reviews of your work, positive or negative that have stayed with you?

Well I’m only just starting out, but ‘Creeping Stick’ has earned a full five star review at the Good Reads website, and has been mentioned as a book to look out for by ‘The Dark Side’ magazine. But my favourite review has compared it with the work of a well-known horror titan – “Vivid descriptive prose abounds here with some startling, not to say, disturbing imagery on display. The writing here is reminiscent of Books of Blood-era Clive Barker, that’s how good it is, and presents a potent mix of body horror, creeping tension and even a dash or two of steampunk imagery.” I’m not going to argue with that!

What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult?

Probably just finding enough time to sit down and write without being interrupted… I guess we all start off in similar circumstances, with day jobs and parental responsibilities and whatnot. Nobody ever has it easy first time out, so you just find ways that are suitable to whatever those circumstances may be. 

For example, I wrote ‘Creeping Stick’ in a series of different phases, usually inbetween feeds while the baby was sleeping or while leaning off the edge of my bed using a laptop, just trying to grab twenty minutes here and there. But ‘Mist Angels’ has been written at a desk I set up in my garage. That may sound a bit odd or uncomfortable, but it was perfect - no phone calls, no distractions. I put on the ‘Stranger Things’ soundtrack, listened to the rain hitting the roof and just sailed through that one.   

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? 

Not really… probably sex scenes, to be honest. They bore the hell out of me in books, I always skip over them. Although there was an ace book doing the rounds in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s called ‘The Burning’, a real literary nasty – no relation to the slasher film – which the kids at school used to read out loud. Pardon the pun, but my 13 year old self remembers that one as being fairly scorching. But no, there’s not much chance of me ever being shortlisted for one of those Bad Sex In Fiction awards.

How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?

Oh, the names are hugely important… in ‘Creeping Stick’, the villain was originally called Uriah Spindle. I thought it was a good, old-fashioned, penny dreadful type of name, and originally pictured him as a cross between Quilp from Charles Dickens’ ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’ and a diseased version of the Child Catcher as seen in ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’. But as the story evolved, I needed something more exotic to suggest his nomadic, privileged upbringing in the far flung corners of the British Empire, also wanting to evoke something more metaphysical as he has been exposed to a multitude of faiths and beliefs. 

I settled on calling him Raziel, which was the name of an archangel entrusted with the secrets of God himself, adding Menelaus as a middle name. In Greek it means ‘wrath of the people’.  The wasting disease that he suffers from marks him as being visibly different, but he doesn’t become a true monster until later in the book, and under very specific circumstances. That’s the point at which Graham Humphreys has depicted him on the cover.

Writing, is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years?  

I’d like to think I’ve developed intolerance for poor or lazy writing. Have you ever seen ‘Demons 2’? There’s a scene where a couple have to get off the top of a building using ropes, and the husband turns to the wife and says “Remember those rescue courses we did last summer?” I mean, come on… They had four writers on that thing, and that was the best they could come up with?

What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?        
 
Coffee, persistence and a dedication to making it the best that you can - no half-measures. Just because it’s horror or sci-fi or whatever, if you can’t believe what a character is saying or doing, the reader isn’t going to buy into it, either.

What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing?

I was lucky in that my first boss, a guy called Derek Hooper, was a former old-school London journalist who taught me how to write effectively. I can’t think of a way in which he didn’t have an impact on my writing… He used to say “Write me some copy so crisp it crackles!” And I think Joe Lansdale once described the secret of writing as being something like: put paper in typewriter. Plant ass in chair. Start typing. 

Incidentally, Joe Lansdale is hugely generous when it comes to advice - he’s been patient enough to answer every question I have ever sent him. I’ve also been impressed by something a good friend who has recorded several excellent albums once told me – you can be the most talented person in your chosen field, but it’s the ones who never give up that will ultimately succeed. Just set yourself a deadline, find a way to write whenever you can, and work your way towards hitting that deadline. And then never stop until it is out there.

Getting your work noticed is one of the hardest things for a writer to achieve, how have you tried to approach this subject?

Write a bunch of killer hooks to catch people’s attention, set up a webpage, use social media, tap into other mediums like images and book trailers, all that kind of stuff. ‘Creeping Stick’ has a Facebook page and a YouTube channel, for example. I took note of advice from established writers, again thanks to the wonders of social media... 

A lot of first time writers try to get ahead with some kind of recommendation from an established writer, and there’s nothing wrong with this. The internet may have made it easier to connect with established writers, but I think it is important to be respectful and not to expect any free handouts – people are busy and get asked all the time, so a ‘no’ should not be taken personally. 

What piece of your own work are you most proud of?

At the moment? ‘Creeping Stick’. If it ended up being the only book I ever have published, I’d still be damned proud of it. And grateful, too – especially to Chris Teague of Pendragon Press and sub-editor Ross Warren.
 
And are there any that you would like to forget about?

Not really… at this stage I’m more focused on bringing my stuff out into the light, so there’s quite a bit of quality control going on.
 
For those who haven’t read any of your books, which of your books do you think best represents your work and why?

Anyone reading my work for the first time – which is going to be whoever picks up a copy, let’s face it – will be starting with ‘Creeping Stick’. I submitted it to Pendragon, and they liked it enough to publish it as a limited edition hardback with a beautiful cover by Graham Humphreys, who did the iconic film posters for ‘A Nightmare On Elm Street’, ‘The Evil Dead’, ‘Evil Dead II’ and more. 

The hardback also features a series of seriously creepy black and white interior illustrations by a Welsh artist called Adam Blandon, whose work is just superb –he deserves every bit of the praise that this has earned him. 

But the style of the book, its language and descriptive approach, is not typical of my overall writing – it’s just what ‘Creeping Stick’ called for. There’s a bonus short story included with the hardback called ‘Scaring Crows’ which demonstrates this, and I think the epilogue does too. The next book will be different again. 

Do you have a favourite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us? 

“Eleven year old boys have many reasons for wanting to burn down their schools. Rory only needed one, and it went by the name of Mr Hopkiss.” That’s the opening line of a short story I did called ‘Teachers Are Evil’, I quite like that one.

If it was something from ‘Creeping Stick’, it would probably have to be: “Tend to your fire and stand guard against the dusk. Do not mistake the scattering of sand against your pane as something you can afford to dismiss, lest you turn a blind eye to the grim affairs of Raziel Menelaus Spindle, also known in certain parts as Mister Stick, or the Stickman, or Creeping Stick. For your children may yet come to know the horrors that lurk within his House of Perpetual Lament, in the company of laughing shadows, and in the shade of the beckoning dark.”

Can you tell us about your last book, and can you tell us about what you are working on next?

‘Creeping Stick’ takes the form of a written death bed confession from a former priest who has been cut off by the church. He has no one to give him last rites or absolve him from his sins, of which there are many, so he turns to paper and ink, intending it to also serve as a warning about what happened to his home village, which has been utterly devastated, and what may still be lurking out there. 

As the confession unfolds, we discover that the title ‘Creeping Stick’ was the nickname given by the village children to Raziel Spindle, a rich merchant who wanted to build an orphanage in the area. He suffers from a terrible disease and is a ruthless businessman, but is no villain – not at the start. A series of events occur throughout the book that make him that way, and when he takes on the mantle of monster, he really applies himself. 

 There are all kinds of deranged insanity once the characters discover the House of Perpetual Lament, and the true nature of Spindle’s revenge against them. It’s grim with a capital ‘G’, and I hope readers will find it scary and atmospheric as well.

My next book will probably be ‘Mist Angels’. It’s completed and undergoing a rewrite at the moment. That one is set around an old colliery high in the Welsh valleys, and has strong elements of folk horror as well as violent action set pieces. It also has vague links with ‘Creeping Stick’. 

After that, I have a Vietnam horror novel called ‘The Teeth In The Darkness’ on the go, and ‘The House At Gallows Drop’, which is a ghost story. Plus I have an idea for a possible follow-up to ‘Creeping Stick’. That would take place during a different time period altogether, and would be presented very differently to the original.

If you could erase one horror cliché what would be your choice?

I think it’s more fun to take a cliché and twist it on its head rather than abolish it completely. 

What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?

I’m a big fan of the Dexter novels, but that final one didn’t work at all for me. I think it was because I had high expectations going in that the book would round off the series in a far more satisfying way than the television show managed, so I was setting myself up for a fall... 

As for the last ‘great’ book I read, it’s probably ‘The Pilo Family Circus’, which has been out for several years now, but I re-read it recently and enjoyed it just as much as I did first time round. It’s about a guy who is forced to join a troop of bad-ass circus clowns, the kind who carry switchblades and rob people in dark alleyways. On the second reading, I realized that it was also an allegory for schizophrenia. I love that, coming back to a book and discovering something new. 

What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do?  And what would be the answer?

There’s actually two questions – the first being “John Carpenter wants you to develop your idea for a proper sequel to ‘The Thing’, will you do it?”, and the second being “Will you sign this multi-million pound book deal, please?” 

I’ll let you guess what my answers would be…

As the eternal hunger of Creeping Stick consumes the grim secrets of a small coastal town, venture into the House of Perpetual Lament with Raziel Spindle. . . And discover a new reason to be afraid of the dark.
The debut novella from a promising new writer of the dark and supernatural, Liam Ronan.
Published as a limited edition of 100 hardcovers, signed by Liam, with cover art from cult film poster artist Graham Humphreys along with a gallery of interior artwork courtesy of talented new artist Adam Blandon, including these two sample images: