I would fight those tiny little horses. Doesn’t matter if there’s a hundred of them, I think I could punt those equine bastards to the moon. A horse-sized duck on the other hand could be a formidable beast and I’m not sure I’d win that. Have you seen the size of horses?! Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself? I’m a lifelong horror fan. I saw An American Werewolf in London way too young. I saw Jaws when I was five or six. Those experiences imprint on you at that age. I was lucky enough to grow up when some of the greatest horror films of all time were being made – A Nightmare on Elm Street, Fright Night, Gremlins, Hellraiser. I love movies, comics, books. I have three children and a woman who claims to be my wife (we had some sort of strange ceremony with a guy dressed like a wizard, and they put a ring on one of my many fingers, and now I can’t get it off). I’ve been writing for a while. I messed around in film and made comics for a while before delving into prose which is where I’ve been spinning yarns since around 2008. Which one of your characters would you least like to meet in real life? The Magdalene from my novella The House of Tears which rounds out my collection Diabolique. She’s essentially a succubus. She is a being who brings destruction to any man who encounters her. She is the head denizen of a demonic sex club known as The House of Tears. For all her allure, for the sexuality and sensuality she exudes like pheromones, she’s a predator. Other than the horror genre, what else has been a major influence on your writing? I’ve had a long fascination with the Beat Generation, Burroughs, Kerouac, Ginsberg. Burroughs for his off-kilter subversive works. He really pushed the envelope of what could be considered literature with Naked Lunch and the Nova Trilogy. On the Road may have been Kerouac’s seminal work, but I always chimed with Big Sur better, along with The Dharma Bums. Big Sur is a novel obsessed with Kerouac’s self-destruction and reflections on his mortality. I found the juxtaposition of the explosion of life he found on Big Sur that dazzled him, enthralled him, the clarity of the water in the stream, the cleanliness of the air, the giddiness he found in the company of his friends, while at the same time he was plumbing the depths of alcoholism, to be profoundly sad. Bret Easton Ellis’ monstrous American Psycho is a book I’ve returned to many times. The Invisibles by Grant Morrison absolutely blew my mind when I first read it and I delved into his work with a fervour I’ve never really found for any other creator bar Clive Barker. The Filth, Animal Man, Doom Patrol, We3, Flex Mentallo, Zenith…I could go on all day about his ability to metatextualise what some would consider a children’s medium. I know Alan Moore is considered higher in the pantheon of creators, and for good reason, but I’ve always loved Morrison’s work. I find he opens doors in my imagination that other writers have never even knocked upon. I also love poetry. Seamus Heaney is a particular favourite of mine. 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 people shy away from the term “horror”. When you mention horror to people they squirm, a peculiar look comes over their face, their features screw up. “Oh, I don’t go for that sort of thing,” they say. But any genre can have horror in its DNA. Tell them that The Silence of the Lambs is a horror movie, and they won’t believe you, but we all know it is. Se7en is a horror film. I see David Fincher’s masterpiece Zodiac as a very real horror film. Jaws is as scary a film as you’ll find. Horror, to me, is anything that forces us to confront our mortal nature, or our beastly, animalistic side. The side we pretend we don’t have because we live in polite society. Those impulses that simmer under the lid of civilization. We look upon those urges as repellent, as despicable, but they’re part of human nature. They’re part of us. The Monster. The Demon. All our monsters are metaphors for other, darker things. I think that’s what the best horror does. It forces us to reflect on those parts of ourselves we’d rather bury, padlocked, and chained in a small metal box and buried ten feet under the ground. 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? We’re essentially watching a renewal of the cold war, but we’ve doubled our number of enemies. Facing the “west” now is both Russia and China. The last time we lived through times like these we had a run of Body Snatcher type films. I do wonder if we’re due a remake of that classic film (even though there’s at least three versions of it). Given the renewed interest, and serious reporting of, UFOs/UAP phenomenon, I would like to see a wave of extra-terrestrial themed horror. The Thing is probably my favourite horror film. It’s perfect and plays on the paranoia that the cold war bred in people – who can you trust if your enemy looks like your friend? Given the dark, violent and at times grotesque nature of the horror genre why do you think so many people enjoy reading it? Release. Fear is an emotion that really has no utility in the human experience any longer. It’s possibly the oldest emotion, it’s definitely the most important one we ever developed. It was needed when we lived our lives under threat of predation. That threat is mostly gone now. We’ve slain the beasts. We’ve risen above that threat. Horror gives us a dose of that ancient emotion, and the endorphin rush that we receive when we’ve survived the threat. I think that’s what people get from Horror. What, if anything, is currently missing from the horror genre? In the modern era, comedy. Horror films used to have laughs in them. An American werewolf in London is as funny as it is scary. Edgar Wright rekindled the horror-comedy with Shaun of the Dead and The Worlds End. I’d like to see more of it. What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice of? Sam L Edwards. Paula D. Ashe. Russell Smeaton. Alan Baxter is pretty established in Australia, but I always recommend his work. Are there any reviews of your work, positive or negative that have stayed with you? Everyone who has read my short story The Outsider seems to really like it. Lynda E Rucker suggested I write a gritty crime novel after she read it. I may take her up on that someday. What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult? Somedays it’s just the grind of sitting down and putting words on the page. Sometimes it’s finding the actual time to do it. I struggled for a few years with finding ideas for stories, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem these days. I think the issue was that I was looking for stories to come to me fully formed, or I was trying to force the ideas to come to me. Nowadays I just start with an image, or a character name, or maybe even an ending that I can see in my head and then I sketch out a semi-rigid plot and get to work. I’m not a heavy plotter. I tend to give myself a light framework of what the story might look like and then see where it goes. Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? I don’t think there’s anything I would shy away from if I felt I could do the subject justice and write it in a sensitive manner. It depends. As a father I abhor stories with violence towards young children, so that’s not something that features heavily, or at all, in my work to date. Writing, is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years? My ability to visualize, to work through an idea, has developed over the years. My style has certainly developed since I began writing, the ways to express an idea, to get it down on the page, to elaborate. I think my use of language has sharpened. What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing? Just do the damn work. My kids are superb athletes and the mantra I hear often is “hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.” I think that applies to just about every profession. Which of your characters is your favourite? I’m going to say two characters because they’re essentially a double act. My occult detective character Anna Barlow and her ghost sidekick Turk. Writing them is a breeze. They bounce off each other. They’re funny. I don’t have to work on their dialogue at all, they just speak it. I never find myself bouncing words around looking for the right way to say things. They’re both facets of myself, as are all the characters in my work, but these two moreso. I’d go so far as to say I love the pair of them. When I’m writing them it’s like being with old friends. It’s a strange sensation. I’ve written three stories in their world, a short novella, and have plotted out (very loosely) a novel. One of their stories Angelus was published in Occult Detective Quarterly and has been reprinted in Diabolique. Which of your books best represents you? Diabolique. It maps the interior of my creative life and obsessions. It’s an eclectic mix of horror stories that explore different threads of horror that I find interesting – body horror, sex, obsessions. There is comedy in there, some light threaded through the darkness. Do you have a favorite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us? “The woman’s voice crackled with electricity, charging the very fabric of the room like static air before the breaking of a thunderstorm. “Are you prepared, Mr de Leeuwin?” She was shrouded in shadow, standing in the corner of the room and as such was mostly invisible on the camera’s lens. Liam only saw part of her face illuminated in the glowing embers of the cigarette she would occasionally raise to her lips. The sleek curl of her mouth, a sharp cheekbone, the glint of fire in her eye.” – The House of Tears. Can you tell us about your last book, and can you tell us about what you are working on next? Diabolique dropped in October. This year I’ve been writing a novel, tentatively titled Delirium. The first draft is finished, so I’ll be taking a break to write a novella that I’ve been asked to write by my publisher (Hybrid Sequence Media) before getting into the second draft. It probably has another 6-9 months of work before it’ll be finished. Having three kids and a full-time job takes up a lot of my time, so I only get an hour or so to write at night. I have another novel plotted out, but that’s probably a year or so away before I get down to the actual writing of it. If you could erase one horror cliché what would be your choice? Jump scares. Jesus Christ, just stop doing them. You’re cheating your audience. A jump scare should be earned. Just making things quiet then going LOUD isn’t doing anyone any favours. You want to know how to do a real jump scare? Watch The Exorcist 3. What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you? The last great book I read was Richard Matheson’s classic I Am Legend. It’s such a great book. If anyone hasn’t read it, I’d say go look it out right now. The last book to disappoint me? There’s plenty of them. I don’t finish a book if I’m not enjoying it. Most recently I was on a sci-fi kick and started Dune Messiah. The original Dune is an absolutely stellar book, but Dune Messiah I put it down after a hundred or so pages. What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do? And what would be the answer? If you had to fight a hundred duck-sized horses, or one horse-sized duck, which would it be and why? I would fight those tiny little horses. Doesn’t matter if there’s a hundred of them, I think I could punt those equine bastards to the moon. A horse-sized duck on the other hand could be a formidable beast and I’m not sure I’d win that. Have you seen the size of horses?! DIABOLIQUE |
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