FOR RYE, AN INTERVIEW WITH GAVIN GARDINER

8/4/2021

BIO
Gavin Gardiner’s lifelong love of horror didn’t manifest into his debut horror novel, For Rye, until his early thirties. Between its completion and publication, he wrote a novella, several short stories, and a selection of non-fiction articles and analysis pieces. These can be found in various online publications and in print via:

www.gavingardinerhorror.com

Before he threw himself into the writing game, Gavin dedicated much of his teen years and twenties to the pursuit of music. Although the nightmares he’s since committed to the page have garnered more attention than his songs ever did, he hopes to one day return to music. The writing of horror, however, is here to stay.

He’s currently working on his second novel, Witchcraft on Rücken Ridge, and has grand plans for the future of his unique brand of horror. He very much hopes you’ll join him for the ride.

He lives in Glasgow, Scotland with his ever-patient girlfriend and ever-demanding kitten.

WEBSITE LINKS
Website: https://gavingardinerhorror.com/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Rye-Gavin-Gardiner/dp/1838345906/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=9781838345907&qid=1612459396&sr=8-1
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ggardinerhorror
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ggardinerhorror/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GGardinerHorror
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21191937.Gavin_Gardiner

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?

My name is Gavin Gardiner and I’m an upcoming horror author from Scotland. My first novel, For Rye, is due for publication on April 9th, with my first novella a few weeks after. I’ve had several short stories and non-fiction articles on the genre published online, and intend to keep writing horror until the day I die (or lose my mind from writing such atrocities every day).

Which one of your characters would you least like to meet in real life?

Frankly, they’re all as bad as each other. Well, not quite, but I do revel in blurring the line between our traditional perceptions of good and evil. You may start one of my books placing your allegiances in one character, only for you to have to rethink your loyalties when they turn nasty.

To answer your question properly, I’d probably go with protagonist Renata Wakefield’s elderly father, Thomas, from For Rye. Aside from being a vicious piece of work who made his family’s life a living hell, he’s generally just a bit gross. There are some passages that were truly repulsive to write, and I’m told they’re equally horrible to read. Not making a very good case for the book, am I?

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

I expect many writers you interview will cite cinema’s influence on their work. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t play a huge part for me, too.

It’s important to work to the medium in which you’re operating; just as certain devices and modes of storytelling in a book won’t work in a film, so some creative elements of filmmaking won’t work in the long-form format of a book. That being said, as writers we can learn a lot about atmosphere, pacing, structure, and much else from movies. I often close my eyes when writing a scene and imagine how my favourite cinematographers would handle the sequence.

As with literature, I think it’s important for writers to delve into as wide an array of cinema as possible in order to expand their sensibilities and push the possibilities of what their writing can achieve. Having said that, my movies of choice will always be horror. No surprise there.

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

Stephen King and Dean Koontz are just two authors who, in interviews and in afterwords to their own books, have denounced the label of ‘horror writer’ being applied to them. Fair enough, since both have worked outside the genre, but I have no issue with the term. I have great belief in the value of horror, not only for entertainment purposes but also for the psychological benefits, and am proud to work exclusively in the genre.

As for the connotations and preconceived notions, maybe that’s part of the fun. Horror pushes more boundaries than any other genre, and in doing so alienates some. It’s a necessary price to pay, but the demand for horror today seems greater than ever. We’re seeing resurgences in all subgenres of horror at present, and have done continuously over recent decades.

My feelings on the term ‘horror’ is that, like most labels, it’s a little reductive. Horror is absurdly varied and nuanced in its output, but I still love the label. Whatever we choose to call it, I’m proud of the boundaries the genre pushes, the enemies it makes, and the judgements that may be made about me or my fellow horror freaks. The genre’s value, of which I spoke before, is too great to let such trivialities grind us down.

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?

The obvious answer would be that we might see a surge in pandemic-influenced horror, but trends have already leant that way in recent years and somewhat petered out, not to mention the fact that everyone might be so sick of pandemic-talk they won’t even want it in their films and literature.

One of horror’s great worths is its willingness to commentate on the state of the world without bowing to social pressures. You would expect it to have suffered for this, but it’s simply grown stronger as a result, with fans embracing its honesty and integrity.

I tend to steer clear of engaging in political discourse online, since the internet no longer feels like a particularly safe space to express opinions of a political or even sociological nature. In short, it’s a shark pool, and I just want to write horror. Funnily enough, this very climate of stifled expression into which I believe we’re entering, and the growing sense of division many are sensing of late, may provide the answer to your question.

Once again, horror fans have come to expect of the genre a no holds barred approach to storytelling, and it’s my belief that the climates of suppression of which I spoke will lead only to the growth and prosperity of horror. My prediction is that fans will rely on the genre more than ever to pull no punches, and continue representing a medium of entertainment defined – at its very best – by a total freedom of expression.

Given the dark, violent and at times grotesque nature of the horror genre, why do you think so many people enjoy reading it?

This is the best question anyone could hope to ask on the horror genre, and one I wrote extensively about in my essay Why Horror? which can be found on my website: https://gavingardinerhorror.com/non-fiction/essays/why-horror/

There’s no real way to pay this question the respect it deserves in a few paragraphs, but I do discourage fans from passively absorbing horror, and instead searching within themselves for what it is about the macabre that gives them such pleasure, for the simple reason that horror affords us benefits that go way beyond mere ‘pleasure’.

All areas of horror – be it psychological, splatterpunk, body horror, or young adult – provide a cure for an itch as old as humanity itself. In many ways, our species exists in an environment that fails to address many of the burning instincts within us that got us this far in the first place, and horror goes some way in giving these primordial undercurrents the attention they require. Where other genres such as romance will aim to make the reader believe in the love of its central characters, horror aims to bring the emotion to the reader themselves. It cares far less about how convinced you are of the protagonist’s terror, and more about your own feelings of fear. This is a unique trait of the horror genre that I believe goes some way in answering your question of why we enjoy reading horror: it is concerned primarily with the direct emotion of the reader, and isn’t emotion what makes us human?

Also, it’s bloody good fun.

What, if anything, is currently missing from the horror genre?

Another good question, and one that I risk stepping into the realms of personal preference to answer.

In short: the psychological. I adore supernatural horror, but the psychological is what most fascinates me. Yes the two overlap, but I’m of the belief that stripped of supernatural explanations, a story about a truly compelling human mind – set solely within the realms of reality – has the potential to grip far harder.

I made the decision way before I typed the first word of my first draft that my fiction was going to revel in human monsters, not supernatural ones. My debut horror novel, For Rye, is about, in one word, transformation. I wanted to take a character that starts out as far from any kind of monster as we could imagine, and find a way to turn them into something worse than any devilish creature you could dream of. Whether or not I succeeded in my mission is yet to be seen.

A key element in my horror is the blurring of good and evil. This is a risky direction to take in fiction, since our ingrained sensibilities and tastes are based on ancient archetypes that are ancient archetypes for good reason: they work. Yet stories of antiquity are also riddled with moral complexity, and this is what I feel the horror genre could use a healthy injection of – and you better believe I got the needle.

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

Since I started engaging in the online writing communities, I’ve been blown away with the level of work my peers are putting out. When people ask for reading suggestions, I always rhyme off some names of those whose support I’ve been lucky enough to be on the receiving end of.

The list is near enough endless, but you can find the work of some amazing upcoming writers in the Writers’ Spotlight section of my website, such as Mai Kil, David Curfiss, Matt Adcock, Hannah Repka, and Christine Lajewski. Some other writers who are really putting me to shame are the fabulous Mona Kabbani, Liliana Carstea, Archit Joshi, Leigh Haddington, Madison Estes, Bill Halpin, Robert Ottone, Casey Masterson, Jeremy Megargee, Sophie Queen, and so, so, so many more.

I’m hosting a ‘Freebie-for-a-review-Friday’ on Instagram, where on the first and third Friday of each month you can win a book from one of my peers, on the sole condition that you leave an Amazon review for the book you win. The idea is to raise awareness of how important these reviews are for indie authors, but also I get to do my little part in getting some of these amazing names out there.

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

I thrive on criticism. Every negative appraisal of my work I see as an opportunity to improve the thing, or do better next time. I’m lucky in that I’ve had no searing reviews just yet, but there’s still time!

The reviews and comments on my work that stay with me most are the ones that interpret my writing as something other than I intended. I think that’s a beautiful quality of art: once the artist has handed over their baby, it’s no longer up to them what the thing really is. I encourage my readers to dig up their own meanings and interpretations from my theme-heavy stories, and hit me up on social media to let me know what they come up with!

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

I’m a great believer that every aspect should be difficult. If it’s not, you’re probably not working hard enough. Everyone’s allowed to write and create and put stuff out into the world, but if you want to make something that’s really going to shake people by the lapels and make them take notice, you’re going to have to bleed for it.

That being said that, I suffer from some pretty crippling self-doubt all the way through the writing process. Like with every negative in life, you have to grab it and make it work for you. If I wasn’t a paranoid, fussy, terrified wreck about my writing being good enough, I probably wouldn’t sculpt the clay as much as I do, and wouldn’t have ended up with the nightmares of which I’m so proud.

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

I think every subject should be free for authors and creatives to explore. Art must be allowed to commentate and criticise on every area of society and life that it sees fit, and if it’s overly distasteful then it’s up to us to progress as a society to the point where there will be little or no demand for such stuff. Of course, there’s a difference between commentating on society and blatant hate speech, and drawing the line between the two is a challenging conversation that we have a responsibility not to shy away from.

Anyway, I digress. Anything I’d choose not to write about would be for my own personal tastes or sensitivities, and not topics I think should never be touched. I can’t see myself writing about the Holocaust, because I don’t believe I have the skill or knowledge to handle it the way it would deserve to be handled. Also, I’m not sure the horror genre is the arena for such a topic to be explored. I would be against keeping a closed mind to this possibility in sensitive, skilled, knowledgeable hands, but I highly doubt those hands would be mine.

Also football, but only because it bores the unholy crap out of me.

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

I’ve only been at the writing game for four or five years, so I guess my development is still in its infancy. Regardless, I’ve taken great pains to learn lessons every step of the way and commit them to memory (and make a record of them). The writing journey is an endless one, and I have plans to start up a YouTube series once I’ve finished writing my current novel to explore these very lessons. Stay tuned!

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

As with most advice that’s stayed with me, I can’t remember where this one came from. It’s to do with test readers prior to publication, and basically asserts that any time someone tells you that there’s a problem with a particular sentence or passage or plot point or anything else, 99% of the time they’re right. But when they try to tell you the solution, 99% of the time they’re wrong.

I’ve been hugely fortunate with my test readers, consisting mostly of friends and family, and they’ve proven this ‘rule’ wrong plenty of times by providing great solutions. I do find that many of the problems inherent in our stories pass us by due to how much time we spend with the thing. It’s that old ‘not being able to see the trees for the forest’ thing, and a fresh pair of eyes can do wonders. Ultimately, though, it’s going to be up to the writer to knuckle down and pour the hours into uncovering the best possible solution to the problem.

Which of your characters is your favourite?

It’s got to be Renata Wakefield, the central protagonist of my debut novel, due April 9th. For Rye is effectively a character study of Renata, and an experiment into what can lead someone not only into the most traumatised, damaged state imaginable, but also into how someone can grab that trauma by the horns and use it to empower themselves. Spoiler alert: For Rye ain’t a happy tale, and Renata’s eventual empowerment will not give you a family-friendly ending.

Which of your books best represents you?

Hopefully none! They’re absolutely gruesome little nightmares, my stories. I know what you mean though, and what I will say is that I’m very keen to switch things up from book to book, story to story, yet always staying within horror. For Rye has a bit of a gothic, literary undertone, mixing modern, sparse prose with elegant description. My follow-up novella, The Last Testament of Crighton Smythe, on the other hand, is my American Psycho-meets-Catcher in the Rye stream of consciousness trip, following the thoughts of a truly unhinged guy whose about as weird as it gets. It even has some lashings of comedy. It’s my hope that none of my books will come to represent me most, and that the full picture of my strange brand of horror will only be attained through soaking ‘em all up.

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

I mentioned before Renata’s father, Thomas Wakefield, and how disgusting a specimen he was to write. Despite this, I had great fun bringing him to life. He was my excuse to make my readers squirm. Let’s see if he makes you squirm:

“A dense mustiness hung over the living room. Cold, white moonlight emanated from the windows. The wasted form of her cassocked father awaited her in the armchair, the epicentre of the room’s stenches. The bouquet of smells was its own creature, the sum of its parts beyond dissection. Urine, faeces, vomit: these may all have played a part on the vile stage of the elderly vicar’s abandonment, yet this repugnant collaboration defied definition. The room, too, had become a beast in its own right; Thomas’s gaunt form sat nestled in its bosom, these two monsters’ disparate grotesqueries finally as one. The walls of mould and rotting floorboards were as much the flesh of Thomas Wakefield as the unidentified brown soup running out from under his cassock and down his leg was the house’s lifeblood.”

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

For Rye happens to be my debut novel, with my novella The Last Testament of Crighton Smythe being released shortly afterwards. I’m currently working on my next book, Witchcraft on Rücken Ridge, which is a folk horror loaded with caves, cults, cannibals, and much, much more than I’m dying to insert into everyone’s poor, unsuspecting brains.

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

I think I’m pretty much done with used weaponry being dumped next to the unconscious villain. I don’t like being pulled out of a story, and a lack of believability in a character’s actions is a sure-fire way to do just that.

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

The last great book I read – and this is difficult to say since I read and complete several at a time – was Adam Nevill’s The Ritual. It seems to be a controversial thing to say, but The Blair Witch Project is my favourite horror film, and maybe my favourite film of all time. For this reason, the hopeless, despairing, woods-based ordeal of Adam’s brilliant novel was an absolute treat. I love me some forest horror!

The most disappointing is harder to say. I really struggle criticising an author when I know it might get back to them. I have to say that Thomas Olde Heuvelt’s Hex didn’t quite do for me what it seemed to do for everyone else. Surprising, since, as you know, I can always go a witch or two. Specific criticisms aside, the overarching concept of the novel – a cursed town in which an ancient witch plods around, where any resident that tries to leave is immediately overcome by suicidal tendencies – was one of the most original and promising concepts I’d heard in a long time. Sorry for playing it safe!

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

Robert Eggers is yet to ask me if he can adapt one of my books, and for that I am, and will forever remain, heartbroken. For what it’s worth, here’s the hypothetical answer:

Aye, go ahead.

if you enjoyed this interview and would like to read an excerpt from For Rye please click here

Renata Wakefield, a traumatised novelist on the brink of suicide, is drawn back to her childhood hometown following her mother's ritualistic murder. Before long, she becomes ensnared in the mysteries of Millbury Peak as one question lies heavy:

Who killed Sylvia Wakefield?

As the answer draws nearer, as madness continues to envelope the quaint country town, Renata will come to realise that the key to all this insanity lies with one man – the world’s leading writer of horror fiction. His name is Quentin C. Rye, and he will guide her to the revelation that true madness lies within.

Discovering that the darkness of her family’s history runs deeper than she ever could have imagined, Renata Wakefield’s eyes will finally be opened to one single, hideous truth, which will awaken a long dormant evil.