Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?


My name's Jon and I'm a novelist who believes that every piece of art should have a little horror in it to feel complete.  My debut book, Winterset Hollow, a contemporary dark fantasy with a twist and a terrifying edge, is due to be released in September.


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


Edward Addington, the author of the book within my book, Winterset Hollow.  Nothing scares me more than an entitled person with enough money to fulfill his deepest desires.


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


The fantasy books that I read as a child—books like The Chronicles of Narnia, A Wrinkle in Time, and alllll of Roald Dahl's stories.  All of the things I write seem to twist on some sort of fantasy element, and I'm pretty sure that's where I get it from.


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 see fantasy horror being the next big thing.  I think people are craving escapism right now, and I think the last thing they want to read about is reality closing in on one character or another, because we've all been feeling that in the real world for too long at this point.


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


Morbid curiosity is a powerful thing, and it's always been a driving force in the entertainment we seek.  Violence and darkness pique a part of our psyche that nothing else does, and that muscle needs to be exercised every now and then just like any other for us to feel whole.  It's just general maintenance if you ask me, and if it was two thousand years ago, we'd be lined up at the coliseum rather than at the bookstore.


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


That's a really tough question to nail down as there's sooooooo much content out there right now.  But honestly, I would say that there's still room for a more literary edge to a lot of the horror that I've seen.  Don't get me wrong, I love a good, schlocky horror novel…but it's been a long time since I've read a new release in the genre that's rang academic to me, and I think that would be a breath of fresh air.



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


They all stay with me, to be honest.  I'd like to think that I'm good at brushing aside criticism and soldering on, but the truth is that I'm not.  I remember every review, and sometimes it feels like they're all running through my head at all times and there's no way to shut them off.  Positive and negative, it seems like they all have endless echoes.


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


Choosing which story to write in the first place.  Hanging a year (or so) of your life on one idea is a terrifying though for me, so the initial choosing of which book to write next is allllways the most nerve-wracking thing.


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


An in-depth minority experience that I haven't personally been through.  It's not that I don't think I could write about that sort of thing…I just don't feel like it's my place to.  It would feel dishonest to me and so that's something I wouldn't really ever want to undertake.


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


I've gotten more comfortable with my own voice…and more comfortable with the idea that I'm writing for me and that's it…the idea that I'm writing things that I want to read in a way that I want to read them…and that I don't need to change what I do to accommodate anything or anybody else.


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


Stay on the story as long as you can…and tell it in the truest way possible.


Which of your characters is your favourite?


Runny, the rabbit, from Winterset Hollow.  Very complex and very flawed, but in a very believable way.  I don't know, I'm a sucker for a villain that you can't help but sympathize with lol.


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


"There are no answers in this life, Eamon.  There are only moments in the sun…and moments in the shade…and the trick is to understand where you stand in time enough to make yourself at home.  I wish you peace in the fields beyond, because I am certain you will not find it here."


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


Well, my last book is Winterset Hollow.   It's a really fantastic story with a horror edge and I think people will really enjoy it and I can't wait for it to get out there and make some readers happy…or frightened…or anything in between.  Next up is a book called Hollywoodland which deals with an artist getting what seems to be everything he's ever wanted from a mysterious muse…of course, that's not quite how it all shakes out.


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


The ghost of the young girl standing in a hallway in a white night gown.  Please go away.


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

The last great book I read was 11/22/63 by Stephen King, and the last book that disappointed me was The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown…to be fair, I hate all of his books, but I read them anyway for some unknown reason.


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


How do you deal with the anxiety that comes with being an artist?  Well… I don't.  I try to, believe me—I eat healthy, I work out like a beast, I try to get enough sleep, and I go easy on the mind-altering substances—but the anxiety is always there and it always will be.  And as much as I hate it and it claws at my better nature day in and day out, it let's me know I'm alive… so there's that.

Jonathan Edward Durham was born near Philadelphia in one of many satellite rust-belt communities where he read voraciously throughout his youth. After attending William & Mary, where he received a degree in neuroscience, Jonathan waded into the professional world before deciding he was better suited for more artistic pursuits.


He now lives with his partner in California where he writes to bring a unique voice to the space between the timeless wonder of his favorite childhood stories and the pop sensibilities of his adolescent literary indulgences.  His debut novel, Winterset Hollow, an elevated contemporary fantasy with a twist, follows in that same vein and is available everywhere late 2021.   

​Everyone has wanted their favorite book to be real, if only for a moment. Everyone has wished to meet their favorite characters, if only for a day. But be careful in that wish, for even a history laid in ink can be repaid in flesh and blood, and reality is far deadlier than fiction . . . especially on Addington Isle.
Winterset Hollow follows a group of friends to the place that inspired their favorite book—a timeless tale about a tribe of animals preparing for their yearly end-of-summer festival. But after a series of shocking discoveries, they find that much of what the world believes to be fiction is actually fact, and that the truth behind their beloved story is darker and more dangerous than they ever imagined. It’s Barley Day . . . and you’re invited to the hunt.
Winterset Hollow is as thrilling as it is terrifying and as smart as it is surprising. A uniquely original story filled with properly unexpected twists and turns, Winterset Hollow delivers complex, indelible characters and pulse- pounding action as it storms toward an unforgettable climax that will leave you reeling. How do you celebrate Barley Day? You run, friend. You run.

Norma Boe is the most supernatural author in the iPulp Series. Her collections of stories are somewhere between horror, revulsion, and nervous laughter, ideal for spending a night of fear.

Norma is a frontier woman. Tex-Mex at heart and in words. One fine day she decided to start writing because, as she tells us, she didn't want to end up dry and moth-eaten like Norman Bates' mother without leaving the world a legacy. It was somewhere between that and patchwork quilts. Fortunately for iPulp, she decided to take up literature.

She likes Poe and Vincent Price, but she likes Vincent Price playing Poe best of all. He also has a devotion to Ambrose Bierce, a writer to whom she has dedicated a little shrine at home. Consequently, his chills move between the macabre and the sophisticated.

It's time to interview her.

How would you introduce yourself?

"As a southern lady with a beatnik spirit who fills her loneliness with Kentucky Bourbon, Paquita la del Barrio songs, and cats. Deep down, I have simple habits: I like to sit on the porch in the evenings and drink lemonade, while Grandma's rocking chair swings by itself beside me."

Really?

"Yes, although I'm more than used to it. My life has never been very conventional... There is, for example, the dad thing..."

What was wrong with your dad?

"He suffered from severe post-traumatic stress disorder. His experience in the Vietnam War really scarred him. He was never the same. Soon after he came back, he set up a sort of diorama of the Indochinese jungle in the basement, with a bunch of plants and vines. When he had one of his flashbacks, he would lock himself down there for days. From upstairs we could hear the shots from his rifle. In his deranged mind, he was still fighting charlies. In Vietnam he took a lot of acid."

Gee, sorry... Now seriously, all of us iPulp fans were hoping you'd publish another volume of stories for Halloween, but it looks like you didn't.

"I know," she replies cryptically. "Like I say: always do the opposite of what everyone expects of you. Never lose the ability to surprise. It's another collection of my short stories... But it won't be set on Halloween, it will be set at Christmas."

At Christmas? Why Christmas?

"First, because of not being predictable, which is something that bores me to death. Second, because as I heard Sabrina Spellman say, 'Christmas is perfect for ghosts. The veil between the living and the dead is thinnest during the solstice.' I couldn't agree more. Christmas is a time for horror."

You hear music in the background, what's playing?

"Oh, it's a classic, a song I listen to a lot. Not just these days, all year round. It's I put a spell on you, in the voice of Nina Simone. A jazz piece made of black velvet, like the one on the catafalque."

OK, and what can we find in this volume of scary stories for Christmas?

"There will be eight, as usual. It's not a random number. I'm very Chinese when it comes to numerology; I'll leave it there. Among the stories there will be Christmas-themed ones and others that may not have much to do with the holidays but that will make your family gatherings less terrifying, because they will overcome it. Fear knows no boundaries, nor holidays. Fear is the most transversal emotion that exists. It can be felt at any time, in any place, on any occasion. Fear doesn't discriminate, so why should I?"

Good point, indeed. And what's the title?

"It's called Radioactive Christmas, but I almost called it Twitter Killed the Christmas Spirit."

Any title is good. Your judgment is always exquisite. Anything else to add?

"I want to adopt Daruma Neko. Cats, like dogs, are most reliable bio-indicators of paranormal activity. And now I'll leave you, I have to go feed my carnivorous plants."

Bye for now, Black Lady. It’s been a guilty pleasure.

​This volume is composed of the following mutant stories:

1. The Elf on the Shelf
2. Santa Claus go home
3. The Christmas tree
4. Panic in the disco
5. Fatberg attacks!
6. Where the wild roses grow
7. The ghost of Christmas parallel
8. Last Christmas (killing me softly with your song)

It was all jolly jingle bells until Norma Boe arrived.
Still, the spirit of Christmas lived to tell the tale.

​Kylie Whitehead is a writer based in London, UK.

Her debut, Absorbed is a darkly comic novel of female insecurity, body horror and modern relationships, in the tradition of Naomi Booth and Otessa Moshfegh.

Order now from New Ruins, Waterstones or Bookshop.org. 

“Uncomfortable psychological accuracy, dark humour and out and out horror. I loved it.”
Jenn Ashworth, author of Ghosted

“Full of existential dread and sardonic humour, I enjoyed it immensely.”
Sharlene Teo, author of Ponti

“A consuming exploration of the madness of love and its distortions of the lover and the loved. A literary debut that has so much to say.”
Adam Nevill, author of The Ritual
​
“Fresh and compelling, this claustrophobic debut will suck you in and never spit you back out”
Eliza Clark, author of Boy Parts

Your debut novel Absorbed came out earlier this year. Would you like to tell us a bit about it?

Yeah, sure. Absorbed is the story of a woman called Allison, who is feeling a little bit unsatisfied with her life. She's not too happy with her with her job, or her friendships, and she feels like her boyfriend is pulling away from her, and she's gonna lose him. And one night, pretty early on in the book, so it’s not a spoiler, she physically absorbs him into her own body. And after doing that, she starts to take on elements of his personality, or feels that she's taken on elements of his personality. And is kind of in this battle for the rest of the book, trying to figure out who she is, in relation to other people, and the person she has absorbed.

The whole book hinges on that early scene where she absorbs him into herself. Was that always the central part of the book that everything else came from?

The concept is something that I have dwelled on, I suppose, for quite a long time. I feel that especially when you're much younger, when I was in my early 20s, relationships felt very involved. And you felt that you had to give a lot of yourself to your partner, and you wanted a lot of them in return. And it felt like what you were aspiring towards was becoming the same person to a degree; becoming a unit. And when you're in a relationship, people tend to refer to you as so-and-so and so-and-so; you kind of come as a pair. And I always thought that was kind of interesting, and potentially damaging, or, at the very least a bit of a strange aspiration to have from a relationship. So I was always really interested in this idea of two people becoming one person. My best friend once said to me, I wish that we could run at each other really fast, and just combine and become the same person, which I thought was just a very lovely thing for her to say to me. I'm sure other people might find it a bit creepy! So I had this concept. And I was playing around with it and trying to figure out how I thought this was interesting. And initially, when I was playing with this idea, the absorption might have been the thing that happened at the end of the book. A few people have told me that they're kind of surprised that it's just like, bang, it’s there, on like page ten. It's pretty quick! But what I really wanted to explore was that, okay, so what if that did happen? Then what becomes of your relationship, what becomes of yourself? So, rather than exploring the relationship, and what might lead up to such a strange thing, I wanted to explore the strange thing through a lens of something we just can't explain or understand. Because that felt fun to me. That felt like the interesting thing.

And it's part of what makes the book so unusual, and the way that it straddles different genres. When you were writing it, did you feel like pressure to make it more traditionally horror or more traditionally literary in order to sell it?

When I first started writing it the prospect of selling it was so far from my mind. It's my first novel, I don't have an MA or anything. I'm not a novelist by trade, I suppose. I was just kind of playing around with this idea of, could I take this concept and make it into a book? But I've always really loved horror as a genre. But it's sometimes difficult to slot that in with other things that I'm interested in. If you go to Waterstones or Foyles, and you go to the horror shelf, everything's got this black cover and this red font, and everything feels the same. And I've learned since I've written Absorbed, since I've understood more about indie publishing, and since I've really started to like dig into what kind of weird fiction is out there, there is a lot of interesting stuff hidden among the stuff that feels very same-y. But when I set out to write this, I really wanted to use the horror lens, which I think is make an exciting and kind of fun way to explore quite depressing or intense topics. But then I wanted to mix it in with other kinds of literature that I like. And I've always liked wry women, women telling stories that are quite desperate or upsetting, but who are very funny at telling them. People like Muriel Spark, even Shirley Jackson has this a little bit, where the stories can be quite fraught, and the women can be quite sad and depressed or fragile, but the way that they're told they are quite funny, and almost relatable in parts, even if you don't feel that you want to relate to that person! So I knew that it wasn't going to be straight up horror. But I also knew that it was going to have this weird element that a lot of literary fiction wasn't playing with. I do think that's changed massively in the few years since I started writing it. And even in the month since it's come out, so much good, weird literary fiction is coming out, which is really exciting. But yeah, I didn't necessarily feel pressured. Because I didn't really know what was sellable. I didn't know how publishers were thinking about this stuff. I was just thinking, what would I want to read.

And it's the first book out with New Ruins, a collaborative imprint from Dead Ink and Influx, two indie publishers who both do really interesting stuff. So how did that come about?

Yes, I think the idea had been on the cards, that those guys had been speaking about it for a while. And yeah, they both received absorbed, they both really liked it. And they spoke to each other about it. And this was the way that they decided to take it. They have been talking about this idea of horror that straddles genres, that doesn't really fit into any particular group. And this came along, and they felt like this was the kind of book that embodied what they were trying to do, which makes me feel just like, really arrogant, saying it that way! Obviously I was so thrilled when I found out that this was how they were thinking of approaching it, and that I was going to get to be the first title. That was a really amazing feeling. And obviously, they’re both great publishers who bring out really interesting stuff, and I think Absorbed would have fitted well on either of their lists. I think they both have almost comparable stuff on both their lists. But getting to work with both of them has been amazing opportunity.

Yeah, super exciting to be the flagship release as well.

Yeah, like who knew when I started faffing around with this idea however many years ago that two publishers we're going to decide to start a new imprint and publish my book first! It was wild.

And the book is about the very real pressures that young people do feel today. Was that something that you explicitly wanted to engage with as well?

Yeah, this concept of what people feel is expected from them. And the different ways in which people carve personalities out of specific elements of their lives. So you have these career people who, they are their job, they'll introduce themselves, and they'll say, Hi, I'm Kylie I do this. And that's how they define themselves in the world. And then you have people who define themselves by their relationship, and the most important thing is being so-and-so's girlfriend or boyfriend. And I feel a bit silly, making a generational comment, because obviously I've only ever lived as one generation, but it does feel like we're expected to want more than ever before. And that with every new generation, we're expected to be more. We're expected to have very strong defined political opinions, we're expected to care about our careers, to the degree where we are, you know, putting in extra effort outside of our working hours. We're supposed to be bettering ourselves, we are supposed to be excellent friends, we’re supposed to be there for each other and be very supportive, especially when times are turbulent, which, at the moment, I'd say they are. So there are so many different ways to define yourself. And it sort of feels like a checklist, sometimes, am I this is? Am I this? Am I this? And it's just so much pressure. And I just find that fascinating, in terms of how different people choose to define themselves. What would the ideal personality look like for people? How do we craft our personalities? There's obviously a lot of stuff that that just happens, due to how we're raised with our families, the friends that we make, the people that we surround ourselves with. But I think there are some conscious decisions in there as well about the types of people that we want to be. If we want to be kind, or we want to be smart, we want to be funny, we do kind of work on these elements. I'm just quite interested in how all of that fits together. And there's an awful lot of pressure on everybody just to just to get by, just to live your life. But then trying to get by in this sort of ideal way, in this picturesque version of the world, whatever that means to you. Just a really fascinating concept. I think there's loads to dig into there. With writing, I'd love to see more really great workplace fiction. I haven't read that many amazing books about work. There's this book by Hally Butler called Jillian (2015), which is about work, which I think is very funny. But I think I think we could do with more of the kind of arbitrary day to day.

Yeah. I thought one of the one of the interesting things about the book is that, it's not about social media. But social media is such a huge part of how we curate versions of ourselves that we present to the world. Was it a conscious attempt to sort of like engage with those ideas without explicitly featuring the technology or that much?

I don’t think so. I don't think that was necessarily intended. Although it's an interesting way to look at it. I definitely think I wasn't going to write a social media book. I'm not a hugely online person. I mean, I do I look at Twitter all the time, I look at Instagram all the time! But I'm not massively engaged in the whole thing with online culture, which makes me feel like I'm about 70! But it was never going to be that kind of book coming from me. I think plenty of people have done that kind of stuff, and will do a much better job. Have you read A Touch Of Jen (2021) by Beth Morgan? It's just come out. It's a very good millennial social media novel with a horror twist. It's really kind of unexpected and fun. And then Fake Accounts (2021) by Lauren Oyler which came out of this this year, as well is another great social media book. But I think that the pressures that we put on ourselves are no doubt exacerbated by constant social media in our lives, for sure.

It’s a very contemporary book with the way that it deals with our current anxieties, but you also have the strand with Alison's parents, who've been accused of being part of a satanic cult, which harkens back to the Satanic Panic of the 80s. How did that element come into the book and what what sort of originally drew you to that?

I have just been fascinated by the concept of the Satanic Panic since I first found out about it. I just think it's absolutely wild. And there will be many examples of such panics spreading in that way, but I just found this one particularly resonant. I mean, I grew up listening to nu-metal, watching Kerrang, and stuff. And it just seems wild to me that there was a point in history where your parents would take that as a concern that you are engaging in stuff that is horrific. I've just always found that very, very fascinating. I did force myself to read Michelle Remembers (1980), the book that was a big part of the Satanic Panic about a girl called Michelle, who has these memories come up when she's a little bit older in the 20s. She worked with this psychiatrist called Dr. Pazder, and they write this book together, and bringing up her memories. And it's all it's very shady. The way that it comes about, the theme of the psychological technique leaves a lot to be desired. But I just think it's a really fascinating time in history. And I think it is also a very sad time, right? Because a lot of bad things do happen in the world. And there are a lot of people doing horrible things. And I think that kind of cultural panic probably detracts from that to a degree. There were lots of instances of people being wrongly accused. And then you have to wonder how much real actual awful stuff fell through the net as a as a result of this. So I just thought it was a very interesting lens to give a person where you are going to have a very unstable idea of who you are, and where you came from. And this idea of not knowing, of being fairly confident, but not really knowing for sure. And then obviously having a supernatural element to that kind of ties in with the concept. So yeah, I thought it was just a very interesting place in history to put Allison. It’s not actually stated where the book is set, which is on purpose, but it is a British book, and the Satanic Panic was primarily American phenomenon, although it did have a big after effect here. I think it's interesting also that this stuff was happening. And it was just something that we didn't really talk about.

Absorbed is your first novel. Have you published any short fiction, or do you consider yourself mainly just a novelist?

Yeah, I played with short fiction. I actually don't think I have the patience for it, which might sound strange! But I think I have a tendency to, if I write a short piece, to go, Okay, well, that's done. I put them aside, and I don't necessarily have the like writing stamina to keep up and improve and edit and work on that. Whereas I think a novel you have so much space to breathe, and figure out what it is that you want to say. And that's what I really enjoy. I didn't know where this book was going. And I just thought that was that was really good fun. It's almost like reading it in that you don't know what's going to come out next. And you'll just be typing something in, and go, oh, this is interesting, let’s see where that goes. And I think I have more room for that with novels. I'd like to go back to trying short stories at some point. But I don't think I'm ready as a as a writer.

What are you working on at the moment?

Yeah, I'm trying to work on another book at the moment, which kind of has similar themes of self identity and how we figure out who we are. And perhaps what it feels like to have these ideas about who you are questioned, or even disproven, to a degree. I'm being purposely cagey because who knows what will happen, if it will pan out! So yeah, similar themes, slow going. But still excited to see what comes out.

Thank you, Kylie Whitehead, for speaking with us!

Further reading

Read Jonathan Thornton's review of Absorbed here 

Allison has been with Owen since university. She's given up on writing her novel and is working a dull office job at the local council – now it feels like the only interesting thing about her is that she's Owen's girlfriend. But he's slipping away from her, and Allison has no idea who she'll be without him.

Panicking, she absorbs him...

Soon Allison begins taking on Owen's best qualities, becoming the person she always thought she should be. But is Owen all she needs to complete herself? Will Allison ever be a whole person?

Absorbed is the original and timely debut novel from Kylie Whitehead; a darkly comic story of female insecurity, body horror and modern relationships.

“Full of existential dread and sardonic humour, I enjoyed it immensely.” – Sharlene Teo, author of Ponti
"This quiet novel has a wonderfully dark and savage little heart. Not only did it move me, its horror still lingers. A fantastic debut." – Matt Wesolowski, author of Six Stories

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?


My name is E.C. Hanson. I am a reading tutor, adjunct professor, and wine store clerk. I teach a horror-themed writing class at Sacred Heart University. While I attended NYU for playwriting and screenwriting, I made the shift to fiction at the start of COVID. My debut collection, All Things Deadly (Salem Stories), comes out on August 6th, which coincidentally is my birthday. It is being released by D&T Publishing.

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


William Smith in Crunchy Bits. There is something about him that makes me uncomfortable. People will have to read my book to find out why.

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


The work of Sylvia Plath is everything to me. I don’t think her influence is obvious in my work, but she helped shaped my overall sensibility when I started writing plays during my senior year of college.


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?


Great question. It carries such a negative stigma for a lot of people. Some people dismiss it as gore without substance. But there are so many different shades of horror where gore isn’t even prevalent. When the university allowed professors to choose the theme for their writing classes, I picked horror because it is so polarizing. I don’t let my students write about whether they liked the film or not. I ask them to hone in on what the content is doing. Where is the value? Yes, the movie Maniac (1980) is insanely violent. But it’s truly about how a parent can ruin their child’s entire life. That is a valuable message to spread. The future of horror is bright with the contributions of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers. They’re changing what horror means. While Jordan Peele gets credit for injecting a social aspect into his first two films, I’m less impressed by him because I know what his major influences are. Go watch the original Candyman and Craven’s The People Under the Stairs and you’ll see what I mean. Or maybe you won’t if you’re obsessed with Peele.

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?


Okay, so I just mentioned Peele. But I don’t want to belabor the point on what he’s doing. I think more films like The Hunt and The Purge will come out. Then again, I think audience members want escapism and originality. They don’t want to be frequently reminded of our daily problems. The United States is at such odds right now. That is scarier to me than any film a director can make.

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


Forgive me, but it has balls. It takes you places other genres can’t. For example, I hate violence. Any form of it scares me. But I can watch and appreciate something like Saw because that villain’s purpose has meaning. I don’t think anyone should partake in such acts, but he’s trying to teach people a lesson about their daily behavior. It’s why we connect with the show (and lead character) Dexter so much. He only wants to kill the bad guys. That’s kind of awesome. And it’s watchable. Equally watchable but tough to stomach is Rooker’s performance in Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. I can’t take my eyes off the screen when it’s on, but that is an eerie film because it’s played so straight.

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


Female directors. Jennifer Kent and Karyn Kusama are terrific. But we need to bust open the door and let the women try their hand at the genre. Most of them have more nerve and style than the men in this industry.

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

Ruthann Jagge, Mark Towse, and Robert Ottone. End of story.

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


My collection went to Godless.com recently. You can get it as an e-book there. Then it goes to Amazon. Early reviews seem to be going in my favor. It’s a nice change. Even though many of my short plays have been staged around the map, I wouldn’t say that any of them got a decent review. Not a single one.

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


I love the process. Every step of it. The only aspect that can be tough is during the rewrite stage. Aside from all the things one can edit, it’s a difficult job finding potential holes in the narrative. You have to play detective and be objective as all hell. Otherwise, the work will suffer.

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


I would have answered “no” six months ago. But ever since my daughter entered the world in February, I feel like my creative brain is changing. Hopefully this changes or I will blame her. Just kidding! She makes me want to be a better person.


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


I go with my gut and just crank. Some days I would draft a short play. Other times, I would map out a TV series or screenplay. When I don’t feel like writing, I read a variety of material to keep my brain stimulated. Being open to all types of writing allows anyone to develop.

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


Get weird.


Which of your characters is your favourite?

Sutton in The Frost storyline.


Which of your books best represents you?

It has to be the collection. But the novella I finished recently wouldn’t have come about without my father. He passed away a few months back. Even though we weren’t close, he’s got a big hand on that material. The book will be dedicated to him.

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


I like my work, but not that much. Never that much.


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


Well, this is my first book. I’ve had some stories published in the fall and spring. As for the next projects, I completed the aforementioned novella. I had to tweak the ending before I felt good about it. I am going to team up with Demain Publishing for that in 2022. And I just drafted book one in a YA series. It’s too early to predict what, if anything, will happen with that.


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


If the dead cell phone counts, my vote is for that one. We need some new tropes.

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

I loved Boarded Windows, Dead Leaves by Michael Jess Alexander. It was released by Spooky House Press. Everyone should read that. Alexander wastes no words in that book. I admire him for it. As for what disappointed me… I’m going to ruffle some feathers here, but I didn’t love Horrostor by Grady Hendrix. He is super talented, but it didn’t leave me with anything. It’s like a great popcorn movie. You rush off to see it, it ends, and by the time you hit the parking lot, you forget about it.

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


I don’t mean it to be snarky, but I always like to asked one less question. I talk for my jobs. I talk to promote my writing. But I prefer silence.

J.S. Breukelaar is the author of The Bridge and Collision: Stories, a 2019 Shirley Jackson Award finalist and winner of the 2019 Aurealis and Ditmar Awards. Previous novels include Aletheia and American Monster. Her short fiction has appeared at The Dark Magazine, Black Static, Lightspeed, Gamut, Unnerving and elsewhere, including Paula Guran’s Years Best Horror and Fantasy, 2019. She currently lives in Sydney, Australia where she writes and teaches. You can find her at thelivingsuitcase.com and on everywhere else at @jsbreukelaar.


WEBSITE LINKS
www.thelivingsuitcase.com


Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?


I am an Australian-American author of dark fiction living in Sydney with my family. I teach writing and literature at the University of Sydney and at the University of Western Sydney and online at LitReactor.com.


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


If you’re talking about The Bridge, I have to say that I’ve met them all already. I probably wouldn’t be able to write about them otherwise. I know that sounds precious but it’s true. Even the Father in The Bridge— I know him. We all do. He’s the mad scientist, the bad daddy, a controlling uber-dude with fatal misogynistic instincts. That rapey guy in the bar who you were honest-to-god hoping you wouldn’t have to hit with a tire iron but you know, pleased to meet you and all that jazz. For me writing about monsters is like putting live footage through an animation filter. It looks like art, but it’s really life.


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


So much—if you’re talking about genres, then off the top of my head that’d be noir fiction in the style of everything from Hammett to Lehane (in books); science fiction, Gothic, magic realism, classical drama, and weird fiction.


I think more than genres, certain authors have marked me. Miguel Cervantes, Mary Shelley, Bolano, Carlos Fuentes, Cormac McCarthy, Ken Lui, William Gibson, the Brontes, Toni Morrison, Aeschylus. Jeff Ford, Peter Straub, Angela Carter, Arthur Machen, Kathe Koja. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Vince Gilligan and Michaela Coel.


Poetry is my bit on the side. Auden, Dickinson, Bishop, Heaney.


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?


I don’t mind the term, because horror, like paranoia or pessimism, can be another word for insight. There are all kinds of horrors in The Bridge. I leaned right in—body horror, cosmic horror—witches, myth—and social horrors too. The last were the worst, of course, so the supernatural horror functioned as both curtain raiser and valid for itself. The function of supernatural horror as a point of entry, a portal, into ordinary terrors is often underestimated by the critics—but all you have to do is read Paul Tremblay, Laird Barron, Angela Carter or Karon Warren to see how effective that ambiguity can be on the page. That horror is anything but ambiguous is one of the many false assumptions about horror, broken past by too many authors to mention.


There is also the assumption that the genre attracts narrow mindedness, racism and sexism in both readers and writers. But is there a style of literature or any artform that doesn’t? Why should the art world be any different than the real world in that way? What about Roth and Updike? Dickens? Tolstoy? I think people like to beat up on horror for other reasons. Maybe for the same reason that they beat up on romance literature. There’s a kind of snobbishness associated with it. What they’re really saying is that it’s forgivable for Roth to be racist because he’s an artist, but it’s not for Lovecraft because he was a hack. That it’s okay to elicit fear or disgust for the purpose, as Lovecraft put it of ‘uplifting the reader toward a suitable degree of smirking optimism,’ but that it’s not okay to do it for entertainment. Or, even worse, to wipe the smirk right off our faces.


I honestly think that part of the criticism levelled toward horror—and I’m not trying to be defensive here—is that many readers lack the imagination or confidence to detach themselves from the everyday. The reader who doesn’t think they’re sensitive enough to jack into the supernatural, or who doesn’t want to, who thinks it’s beneath them, or who is simply not able to free themselves enough from the ordinary to respond to the extraordinary. And I get that. But when they get the chance—a couple of my most valued readers are mainstream writers and are new to horror, and read my work initially out of a sense of obligation and reciprocity, only to amazed that this, as they said, was horror?
  
I’m only just slightly more of a Lovecraft fan than I am a Roth fan. My experience is that it’s just not possible to break certain peoples’ associations of horror with stereotyping or cheap tricks, or splatter porn or exploitation. I’m pretty okay with leaving them to their safety nets, to be honest. While the rest of us get on with our work in the genre pushing its penumbral boundaries toward lost and found possibilities of being—and humanity is just one of those.


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 think it’s safe to say that the tea leaves predict a host of pandemic/plague stories in the future.

Folklore will hopefully continue to emerge as diverse and multi-lingual story tellers weave traditional stories into tales of universal terror.

I think that mainstream writers, especially those not affiliated with the Smirking Optimism Party, will draw on horror more and more in order to navigate this weird reality even as we work together towards a better world.


Weird horror, quiet horror, slipstream—cosmic horror might get a good dust off. It’s definitely time for the so-called monstrous feminine to lure more non-binary characters and plot lines out of the closet. I drag three such characters into the light in The Bridge—the Furies, sisters born of spilled Titan blood, a castration in fact. I’ve redrawn them as a witch, a rock chick and a non-binary cartographer. All winged of course, and wielding scourges which they frequently use on themselves, or on each other.


And I think that older women are already featuring in new roles in horror. I mean as complex protagonists and not witches or crones or props. Or dying or dead or eccentric or irascible or spry or grumpy – I think that there is already a reckoning in horror that is leaving these stereotypes behind. And it’s about time.


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




I don’t know. At its best it’s one of the most challenging forms that I can think of, and many more readers enjoy being challenged in their reading than publishers give them credit for. Its potential to tap into raw emotion is something we’ve been familiar with since Grendel’s howl. And the thrill of the shadows. I think that’s in us all—the attraction to the monstrous even as it repels us. The awe of the unknown, the lure of the lonely wood. The promise and perils of discovery and of being discovered.


At its worse, and this is what I condemn in The Bridge, which is as much about story telling as anything, the attraction to suffering represented in some of the more exploitive horror fiction is a next-level Schadenfreude that like one of my characters says, is obscenely enjoyed at the lip of the abyss, ‘like from a cute bar right near the edge, drinking sneaky spritzes and wearing brand new shoes.’


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


Honestly, I would say nothing. I am loving this time in horror—everything old seems new again.

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


I am behind in my reading, so for now the ones I’m immediately aware of are Joanne Anderton from Australia, who is about to burst onto the stage with a new collection and a novella that I read in beta and blew me away. I’ve read stories by Carina Bissett, Roni Stinger, Maria Haskins, Gordon B. White, J. Ashley Smith—whose new novel, Ariadne, I Love You, harnesses Greek myth in ways I adore—all upcoming horror writers of huge talent.


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


They all stay with me and I’m grateful to have had a mostly positive reception to my work. There was one reviewer who didn’t like my short story collection, Collision, particularly “Union Falls,” which they read as insensitive to amputees. That stood with me because there are no amputees in that story or in any of my stories. The review was a positive reminder of the power of fiction to fly or fall where it may.


That’s not to say that I agree with the manifesto of the exploitive reading series in The Bridge, which states with requisite smirking optimism that we are all responsible for our own happy endings. If the last eighteen months have called BS on anything it’s that.   

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


Not having the time to do as much of it as I should.

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


No.


There are topics that others can tackle much better than me, and I’m happy to let them. If I have a no-go zone it is scenes where children and animals get hurt, partly because these are problematic in terms of I guess, consent, for want of a better word, and partly because my writing isn’t up to doing it effectively, at least for now. It’s not that I don’t refer to these evils in my fiction at times, but obliquely and never head-on.


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


I’ve gotten better at writing on no sleep.

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


Angela Slatter read an early draft of The Bridge. To say Angela has been instrumental in my career, and in that of many others, is an understatement. You won’t find a more generous literary citizen anywhere. After reading the novel she suggested it lacked “an overarching bitch statement that comes at the beginning and hints at past and future,” a ‘Sing, goddess,’ call to arms like in the Iliad, that moment where the singer says, “Listen up, fucksticks, I am telling you a story and you will listen.”


I stared at her comments, and thought, what the what? I walked and ran and danced and listened to music and cooked and drank wine and finally it hit me. I got what she was saying with every fibre of my being. And when I sat down to write again, I came up with the opening line of the novel: “I was raised by three sisters—one a witch, one an assassin and the third just batshit crazy.”


Short stories are all about the end. The end, in a sense becomes the beginning. If you don’t have that right—the ending—you’ve got it all wrong. Novels are much more forgiving in one sense, because it’s a longer ride and the journey is the destination—but you have to know the secret password—literally. You have to find that ‘Listen up, fucksticks,’ line. Best advice ever.


Which of your characters is your favorite?


In The Bridge I’d have to say that’s middle sister Tiff, the raging rock chick mistress of kink and doom.

Which of your books best represents you?


Whichever book I’ve just finished, which in this case is The Bridge. I think it represents where I am as a writer in terms of being more accessible but still challenging. I draw from my own experiences as an insecure teenager, as a bereaved best friend, as a sister, as a daughter and above all as a story-teller straddling worlds. Connected with that it also represents my best efforts so far to imagine being other than I am in terms of history, gender, physicality or even ontology.



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


“Narn is on the porch in an instant, rolling up the sleeves of her tunic. Spittle and invocations fly from her lips. Beneath the hysterical screech of the ravens, I am also aware of Mag stealthy and watchful around the corner of the hut in their filthy oversized hoody and mud-caked sneakers. And perhaps that is what propels me into my sister’s arms, like a baby, wrapping my legs around her waist. A maggot drops from her lips, and a watery ichor pools behind her toenails. But her hair smells like bloodwood blossoms. It has grown back coarse as a horse’s mane. It is so long that I wind it around both of our necks so she can never leave me again.” -  The Bridge.


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


The Bridge takes place in a parallel multiverse, where Meera and her twin sister Kai are among thousands of Mades, part human, part AI, in a cult called the Blood Temple. Its founder is the Father, who has implanted his Forever Code in all the ‘daughters’, a kind of Asimovian compliance protocol, unaware that multiple births corrupt the code. By the time Meera and Kai realize this, it’s too late, and while Meera manages to escape with the help of a mysterious witch called Narn, Kai doesn’t make it. Eventually Meera is off to college where in order to be accepted by the Regulars, she allows herself to be talked into participating in a horror reading series called Fearsome Gatherum, and in order to do this she needs to persuade Narn to keep on sharing her conjuring tales, in return for a promise that she will try and find Narn’s missing sister. And a way to forgive herself for losing her own.


Next, I’m wrapping a collaborative novella with Angela Slatter, the acclaimed Australian author, and after that I have a haunted house novel in the works.   


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


I love horror tropes, personally. I love a good basement. A haunted house, tall trees, a dead cell phone, whispering corners, unforgiven sins, sex-crazed teenagers. Just leave out trauma or splatter porn, and if you’re writing the other, make sure you’re writing yourself.  One thing I still see in new horror writers, is the fetishization/romanticization of rape/abduction/trauma, and again, in both genders, a kind of blindness actually to the implications of killing mothers/daughters/others as the set-up. I generally find that these writers are pretty receptive to alternatives once they seriously consider them. I mean come on—it’s all too easy to give mom cancer just so you don’t have to deal with her in your story, but is it really necessary? Generally my advice to new horror writers is that if it’s easy you probably shouldn’t do it.

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


The last great book I read was Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys, and the last book that disappointed me was Castle of Otranto, which I finally got around to reading and which I found kind of like a Hammer Horror movie without the humor. Maybe I shouldn’t have read it during lockdown.


What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do?


What is your favorite episode of Schitt’s Creek?

And what would be the answer?


All of them! But just for now, because we need a happy ending: Season 6, Episode 10.  “Sunrise, Sunset,” when Moira and Alexis rescue each other. After a successful meeting with the producers of the comeback season of Sunrise Bay, Moira sits down next to Alexis who is binge-watching old episodes and feeling lost. ‘Wait,” Moira says, pointing to the TV. ‘She’s about to look up.’

​I was raised by three sisters, one a witch, one an assassin and the third just batshit crazy."" And so begins The Bridge, from Shirley Jackson Award, Aurealis Award, Shadows Award, and Wonderland Award finalist, J.S. Breukelaar. Meera and her twin sister Kai are among thousands of hybrid women-called Mades-bred by the Father in his Blood Temple cult. Meera is rescued by a mysterious healer and storyteller, Narn, but her sister, Kai, does not survive the Father's ""unmaking."" Years later, when the cult is discovered and abolished, Meera, still racked with guilt and grief, enrolls in college to take advantage of the government's generous new Redress Program. There she can only dream of ever being real, of ever being whole again without her twin. When Narn's conjure stories buy Meera a free ride to a notorious horror reading series, she is soon the darling of the lit set, feted by the other students, finally whole, finally free of the idea that she should have died instead of her sister. But college is not all it seems-there is a price to pay for belonging to something that you don't understand. Narn has lost a sister too, and Meera agrees to try and find her if Narn will keep feed.

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?


I’m a scifi and horror writer from Lima, Ohio. I’ve been a fan of books and reading since I was pretty young. I got hooked on comic books early on, reading Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica adaptations and eventually moving on to superheroes. My dad knew I enjoyed these so much that he picked out some novels he thought I’d be interested in and brought them home one day. Pretty good stuff - Arthur C. Clarke, Faulkner and other challenging authors for a sixth grader, but I enjoyed them. They certainly got me interested in novels.


I’ve been writing since high school, but I didn’t really get serious about it until I moved to Columbus in the 2000s. When I settled in here, I joined a writing group and met a number of other new and aspiring authors. That group helped me figure out how publishing and creating worked and really kept me writing for years.


I just recently started a podcast, which I really enjoy doing. It’s called Something from Nothing: Talks with Creatives About Creativity. I get to interview authors, poets, actors, dancers, artists and other creators and talk about what makes them tick, what got them into the thing they do. Really fun, and actually puts my college degree to good use! Woo hoo!

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

Tough one. I’d have to say Deena from Indelible Ink. She has powers she doesn’t truly understand and can’t contain, which makes her a little unpredictable. She’s a good person, really! You just don’t know which version of her you’re going to meet from day to day and what kind of mood she’ll be in, you know?

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


As I mentioned, I love science fiction for sure. But I think my main influences have come from when scifi and horror meet. I like old movies where there’s some giant irradiated creature that attacks a small town, or stories where technology goes awry and threatens humanity. I think it’s the unpredictability of science that could be a friend or an enemy to the protagonists that I enjoy so much. Godzilla certainly springs to mind – part horror, part scifi.


I’ve loved Star Wars since I was a kid. That’s been a huge influence on what I do. The thrill that I got from watching that first movie is something I try to put in my work. I hope the reader has fun and wants to go on a journey with my characters in the way that I did with Luke, Leia and Han.


I’m also a fan of crime novels, specifically authors like Elmore Leonard and Carl Hiaasen. They both seem to write stories with real characters and real motivations. The dialogue both authors use is just fascinating to me, so conversational and natural.


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?

It’s strange that the term horror can turn people off from some truly excellent literature. There are some terrific novels out there that get categorized as fiction and no one bats an eye. I’ll admit that I shy away from entertainment that’s presented or reviewed with certain terms. I consider myself a bit of a scaredy-cat when it comes to horror, and I tend to watch some movies with my eyes covered. I love suspense and I love to be shocked, but I’m not fond of gore unless it’s way over the top.


Today, with the way books and movies are marketed and sold, it’s hard to avoid labels, and even harder to do anything about them. If you search for a book or film online, your results will come with labels already on them, plus a synopsis and sometimes you get a full review before you’ve even found the little info you were looking for. It some ways I miss the good old days when you walked into a video store and knew nothing about a movie other than what was on the back of the case. Same with books – it was fun to take a chance on a novel you’ve never heard of just from picking it up in a store. I’m afraid as we continue, labeling of art and literature will only get more specific and I’m not sure it’s a good thing for everyone. It might help readers who have specific niches they want to read, making it easier to use keywords to find exactly what they want, but less helpful for writers and publishers who would have to include every possible combination of genres, situations, characters and plots in order to not be excluded and missed by fans.

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’ve been through so much in the last few years. Politics have had a huge impact on people worldwide, and the pandemic has caused a domino effect of terrible conditions for everyone. I think these particular topics are going to crop up in all of our media for decades to come. The themes of isolation and alienation are prevalent in real life, how could they not dominate things to come? I see a lot of stories regarding the fear of the ‘other’ coming out as well. The uproar over who is vaccinated and who is not, what should be done to stop the spread of the pandemic, and how to enforce laws and mandates. It’s made people suspicious of their friends, neighbors and institutions, and everyone’s motivations for wanting one solution over another. One thing both the pandemic and politics has brought to the surface is selfishness and tribalism. We’ve seen the debate over masks and vaccinations, which center around what’s best for the individual vs. the group as a whole. These are all fantastic and fertile grounds for stories of underrepresented and ignored voices in this debate.

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


As a confessed horror wimp, I sometimes wonder what people see in certain subgenres, but I think horror is cathartic. It’s a way of surviving the worst of the worst situations, without actually being there. Horror is a roundabout way of saying “Well, at least things aren’t that bad for me right now.” It’s also a way of seeing the bad guy eventually getting taken down by the ending (usually) which can also really feel good. I suppose I can’t speak for everyone, but that’s what I tend to get out of it anyway!

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


Well, as I do more and more research on things I want to use in my own work, I’m fascinated by myths and legends from various cultures. There are some strange beasts and monsters from Chinese mythology that I’d love to see creep into more stories. Same with the stories of the indigenous people of North America. Some of their tales get pretty intense and should be told.

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

I loved Cynthia Pelayo’s Children of Chicago, and I’m excited to see what she does next. I love her voice in that book. He’s not really new, but I really like Stephen Graham Jones’ The Only Good Indians. My friend Mercedes Yardley writes terrific, offbeat tales, and I always look forward to reading what she does next. I tend to go for long periods of time where I don’t read much new stuff, and I end up reading classics or old favorites over again and I’m kind of in that place now, so my list of new authors is a little short!

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

I really followed my reviews early on, until I realized it probably wasn’t healthy. As an indie author, sometime the reviews come in slowly and it can be crushing to hang on waiting to see what people say. Given that, I’ve learned to look in on reviews far less frequently, but I do check them. I think one of the ones that stuck with me said I got horror right in that the characters react to horror and terrible events like real people would, rather than characters. For someone to say I can write actual people, rather than cut-outs that wait around for their turn to talk, is a big compliment for me.

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

Revision is tough. It’s hard for me to look at my own work and decide what to get rid of. In my head, it’s all valuable and contributes to the story, but to an editor or a reader some of the material may detract from their enjoyment or their clarity of the tale. I get that, but I have trouble distancing myself enough to become my editor more often than not.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?
​
I haven’t really found one yet. I suppose if there’s a subject that might hurt my family’s feelings or something. Certainly, I wouldn’t make fun of something friends and family believe in, unless they were in on it and okay with whatever I was doing. There are probably any number of controversial subjects I’d leave alone, mostly because they don’t fit into anything I’m writing, so I don’t think about them much.


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


Outline. Ugh. I hate outlining. I like to be a free spirit, a loner, a rebel. I want the story to go wherever it wants. Fly away, little idea, fly!


Unfortunately, my ideas tend to fly in circles and land in a duck pond, and then fly south for the winter. My ideas are jerks, sometimes.


So, I was introduced to the magical art of outlining. I’m not quite to the super-detailed outline for every book stage yet, but I’ve found if I write a fairly simple ‘beginning-middle-end’ outline that things go much more smoothly for me. I actually make my deadlines without too much panic writing, I have fewer moments of writer’s block, and I’m more confident in my writing in general. My birds still get to fly around, they just have to do it in a big, defined cage rather than all over the Northern Hemisphere.


Which of your characters is your favourite?

It’s not easy picking a favorite for a number of reasons, but mostly I think my favorite is whatever character I’m working on at any given moment. I love some of my early characters like Lucinda from my first book, but usually I’m so enthralled with getting the details right in my current work in progress, that I fall in love again and again with the newest creation. I’m fickle, I know! Right now I’m working on a retelling of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and I’m really enjoying building my version of the Dorothy character, and my stand-in for the Tin Man is kind of a jackass, but he’s very fun to write!

Which of your books best represents you?

They’re all about me! All of them! No. I think my weirdest book to date is The Boogeyman’s Intern. I don’t really think it represents my best novel, necessarily, but the book is so quirky and fun and weird, that I think it represents how my mind and my creative processes work. There are some very nonsensical characters in it, there are characters who deliberately wander off the main storyline, and there are situations that just exist for bad puns. It’s very much what an hour or so in my mind is like, you know? Entertaining as hell for me, but for onlookers, not so much. It was one of the first books I wrote, and it didn’t find an agent or home until Odd Men Out was published. After that book made it, I took The Boogeyman’s Intern out and rewrote it and reworked it quite a bit so that I was much happier with it all around, but it’s still a strange romp.

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


This is kind of like a favorite character. Generally, my favorite is whatever I’m working on. And I’m kind of a tough critic of my own work. I tend to move on once it’s done and edited, because I just don’t like going over my writing again. I was in radio for years and now I’m podcasting, but I even hate listening to my recordings. I guess I feel like everything can be improved somehow, and if I review it, I’ll find things I could have done differently.


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

My last book was Red Gear 9. It was a sequel to my first book, Odd Men Out. In this follow up, I include a lot of the same elements the first had: steampunk, zombies, civil war rebels, and airships, but this time out there’s the added plot of an escaped Confederate spy. I pictured this guy as an 1880s James Bond, only with weirder gadgets and a few more years on him. It gave me a chance to have fun figuring out what 007 would have done against zombies in the war.


Since I love mashing things up, I’m working on a book that smooshes The Wonderful Wizard of Oz up with a whole bunch of familiar genres and books. It’s been a blast to see how the pieces come together, and some of the plot points actually fit kind of naturally, but I guess I’ll see what happens when I’m done. It might just work out, but it might not! It’s the thrill of writing.


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

But they’re all so fun! That’s a tough one. Maybe “The monster isn’t dead.” You know, in books and movies where the protagonist kills the monster, and everyone relaxes until the creature gets right back up and keeps fighting for another ten minutes? It certainly has its uses, but it’s been done so much that you just have to shout “Shoot it again!” because you know the thing isn’t going to stay down for long.

What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you?
​
This is pretty tough. I read a lot of terrific stuff.  Lee Murray’s Into the Ashes is pretty great. Tim Waggoner’s Dream Stalkers was as well. I occasianlly get on long periods of reading non-fiction and Sarah Vowel’s Assassination Vacation was definitely top-notch. Maybe the book that’s stayed with me the most over the last decade is Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. It’s non-fiction that reads like fiction, it’s a crime story, a serial killer story, a Chicago story, and much more. His writing is just magnificent here, and even though I love his other work, this is Larson’s best as far as I’m concerned.


As for the last book that disappointed me, I hate to speak badly of other’s work. There are always different tastes, just look at the internet. I’ll watch a movie or read a book and absolutely hate it, and then see people on Facebook praising it as a favorite. So, I try to recommend things I like and keep quiet about the things that don’t work for me. I will be very vague and say a few years ago I was eagerly awaiting a biography from one of my favorite musicians, and I nearly threw it out the window when I read it. It was pretty self-aggrandizing and didn’t always seem to match up to historical fact.

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


The question would be “When are you going to grow up?” And my answer would be pretty vague, I think.

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?


Hello everyone, my name is zasx and I am an author who to be honest is just starting out on the journey of writing. I am learning something new every day and hopefully tuning my craft that much more with each thing I learn both good and bad about my work and writing in general. My main motivations for writing since I started and to this day are to create historical and cryptid horror. A few years back I noticed a severe lack of serious and well developed cryptid storytelling in the world, especially in the world of horror where there is limitless potential and opportunity for tension, atmopshere, chills, and thrills using mythology and folklore dating thousands of years of generational storytelling that have led to modern day mythologies and legends. I hope to keep these legends going, and keep the spark of cryptid storytelling alive and also inspire others to do so as well.

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

I would not like to meet sheriff Perkins, yikes.

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

History is easily the most pervasive influence on my writing, it simply has so much creativity, motivation, and story telling opportunities for those who look.


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?

I feel that horror is a broad, malleable, and varied  genre that can be broadly bent and sculpted in a variety of ways creating a variety of stories with varied themes, atmospheres, tones and types of methods for scaring or provoking uncomfortable emotions in the reader and I think horror should be seen as a diverse genre rather then a cheap “lazy” popcorn type of genre that horror is quite often unfairly viewed as.

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 am honestly not sure where horror is headed but I hope its somewhere good, I think its based a lot on individuals visions for what they want to create in regard to horror and what scares and inspires them. I think we are going to see a lot of good things come from the world of horror as more people come out of the woodwork and throw their own horrific visions into the world. I believe the world of creating horror related projects is a lot more welcoming and inviting then it once was with the abundance of resources and information we have readily available in the day and age we live in. I will say this I'm no psychic but I i'm absoulutly certain we will be seeing an abundance of Covid-19 related horror projects in the future both inspired and uninspired. I believe a rather terrible film has already spawned from the subject.

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


People, myself included, have a morbid curiosity and fascination with the dark nature of our world and its inhabitants, and what else crawls from the darkness but fear and horror?

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


I belive there is a severe lack of cryptozoology related horror projects out there and I would love to see more people add their own flair to timeless mythologies and legends.

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

Well me of course :)


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

No not really, I am not quite at the level of popularity where I have an abundance of reviews.

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

Like with literally anything us humans do, starting it is always the most difficult part, getting that lazy and hesitant part of our brain to shut up and go away is always the most difficult aspect of writing, and well anything at all.

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

I am not sure, I would like to think I could write about anything but in truth I am more then happing staying in my lane and focusing on my passions, cryptozoology and historical fiction.


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

Well like many others I imagine I have developed knowledge and understanding of the creative process through trial and error. Looking back at my first projects and aimless writings I quite literally cringe in embarassment at the absoloute haberdash I put to paper. I would like to think that I have significantly improved in both my knowledge of the writing process and good storytelling in more general terms.


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

The best piece of advice I ever received was one, to write honestly and plainly from your own writing spirit, and two, no writer can be both a writer and a critic at the same time.


Which of your characters is your favourite?

I have a soft spot for dinosaurs :)


Which of your books best represents you?

I believe “Hunted: A Short Story” Best represents my intent and what I hope to achieve when I write.

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


I am not so good with picking favorites.


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


My last book is quite ridiculous if I am being honest, if you are into raunchy, goofy, chaotic madness then I would check it out, also if you like dinosaurs, I WUV DINOSAWS

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

The concept of the final girl.

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


The last great book I read was “The Terror” by Dan Simmons lovely horror. I have not recently read any books that dissapointed me.

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

The one question I wish I got asked is: “Why are you such a good writer and so damn attractive?”


My answer is I don't know, I was just born that way.

Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself?

I’m currently 36 and have been writing for most of my adult life. Since I was a kid I’ve always loved movies, but more specifically genre stories, which extends into my love of books and comic books. I’ve always had the biggest soft-spot for horror and science fiction, which probably explains why two of my favorite films are Alien and Aliens.

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

Well, if we’re talking about my latest book, The Edgewood Nightmare, it would certainly be the character of the witch. I won’t spoil who this is, but since I was a young boy, I’ve always had a deep-seeded fear of witches. This was likely due to the film version of Roald Dahl’s brilliant novel The Witches. Angelica Huston was one of the first actresses to scare the crap out of me with not only that, but her villainous turn in the Michael Jackson Disney short Captain EO. That was the first and only time I can remember hiding behind a chair in the theater to try and avoid being stabbed by her 3D claws.

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

As I said earlier science fiction played a big role, but fantasy too. I was an 80s/90s kid, meaning most of what I grew up watching were things created by Spielberg or Lucas like Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, or Willow. Even more adult stuff I loved like Predator, Aliens, and films of John Carpenter like The Thing and Big Trouble in Little China were on perpetual repeat in my house growing up (those last two in part due to my mother’s obsession with Kurt Russell).

When I actually got into reading in junior high, I was big into crime novels like the works of Elmore Leonard and in college took a deep dive into 50s pulp detective novels. I was definitely late on the Stephen King train despite my brother’s obsession with him since high school. I eventually started reading his works in college and have been a huge fan since. So I guess my big two writing inspirations are Leonard and King.


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?

I think horror carries a negative connotation for most people, but I personally have no issue with the term. I think my problem is that most people seem to view horror as the lowest form of entertainment, picturing slasher films with lots of gore and no redeeming qualities. I feel like often times horror films are rebranded as thrillers to have a more widespread appeal. You see that with stuff like Silence of the Lambs, clearly a horror novel and movie, but people will often refer to anything with a more real world topic like serial killers as thrillers. Frankly I feel like all forms of labels are dangerous in that they bring with it a person’s own baggage associated with that label and often mean they might not give something a chance they could love because of something else they hated that might have also been dubbed horror.

The horror genre is so diverse just like any genre and that’s what I love about it. You can have very serious psychological horror to the other end of the spectrum where you have very silly and self-aware horror. I honestly just love having a good time, which is why I typically prefer more fun horror, or as I like to say something akin to going into a haunted house, getting scared, but not being traumatized by it. For me that pay-off of any great horror story is getting invested in characters, watching them go through hell, and emerging out the other side better for it in some way.

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 honestly don’t know. I try not to bring politics into my own writing, and I’m not sure I usually see it extending into horror as much as science fiction (I was noticing a lot more dystopian future stories in the past decade, which had to be the biggest boom of that since the 60s). However, I believe all movements are cyclical. Almost every trend extending through every facet of our lives seems to come back around every 20-30 years. It’s most likely due to people bringing back the stuff they grew up with and spreading that love to a new generation.

I recently watched the Fear Street Trilogy on Netflix and loved it because that took me back to watching Scream in 6th grade and what a huge impact that had on me. I remember at that time, Scream ushered in a whole new wave of slasher pictures. I think when any great horror property can tap into what made something popular in the first place, you’re bound to see a resurgence in that.

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

I think people like an escape, simple as that. Like action or thrillers, people want that rollercoaster ride of emotions. Latching onto characters you love and being frightened for them is a thrill, but a safe one. Like I mentioned earlier with my haunted house analogy, people like to be scared when they know they’re not really in danger. It’s triggering that rush of adrenaline and it’s a little addicting, provided it doesn’t scar you psychologically. There are definitely times where things go too far for me. I never liked all that torture porn stuff you saw prevalent in the wake of Saw and even prior to that, there’s always been that potential for exploitation in horror.

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

I don’t think anything has ever been missing from the genre. I think sometimes certain things take a bit of break, either due to audience fatigue or a string of bad stories concerning certain elements. But everything always comes back around.

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

I can admit I’ve never really had my finger on the pulse of anything, I will discover stuff from time to time before others, but I can’t say right now I know of anyone to watch out for.

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

Sadly, I’m still starting out so hunting for reviews is part of the game right now, but the ones I’ve read have been great in pointing out things I may not have been aware of at the time of writing. It’s all subjective, but it’s a learning experience as well and I appreciate any feedback I can get on my work.


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

Well the answer to this question has definitely changed over the years for me. I used to work from outlines, so I never experienced any form or writer’s block, but as of the novel I wrote before my latest, I have started to not use outlines. Making up the story as you go can definitely be more challenging, but I’ve found it far more rewarding. So yeah, I think the biggest challenge in that regard can be knowing where to take the story next, but an opportunity will eventually present itself that just feels so perfect you can’t believe it didn’t come to you right away.

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

Well at this point, I’m trying not to write out of the lines of what I know. When I was younger I’d write about anything and a lot of that came off as phony. Over time, I’ve learned to stick to things I’m comfortable talking about. If I use past experiences or people I’ve met as inspirations for stories or characters, the things I create become that much richer. 


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

I kind of touched upon this in an earlier question, but I recently started to avoid outlines. When I started writing in high school, I would really struggle to figure out where to take a story, so I’d write up a detailed list of plot points and it would be like laying the track for a train so as I’m writing, I never go off course. It’s a great way to learn, but it leaves little room for surprises along the way. Yet, I still was too scared to break from this for another decade.

Which brings me to where I am now. Not using outlines makes the writing process much more enticing for me. I find that my writing is slower, but that’s good because it allows me to stop and think about why a character is doing what they are doing and whether the place I think they might go is really where they would go. Feeling more like I’m along for the ride with these characters not only makes it more exciting for me as a writer, but hopefully for the reader as well.



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

Hmm, this is hard, because I can’t put my finger on any one piece of advice that stood out. I’ve taken plenty of advice over the years, but it’s been absorbed into my process and I’m not sure I can remember any specific ones now.


Which of your characters is your favourite?

I think my favorite character so far is the young police officer from The Edgewood Nightmare, Ramona Wesley. I liked her so much, I ended up making her the lead in my next book. Part of that was I wanted a kind of classic lead in an older world-weary police chief in a small town, and thought Ramona is a great character in this book, why not bring her into the next one? Edgewood being set in 1993 helped out because she was young enough that I could set the next one over a decade later and she wouldn’t be too old to be caught in the insanity I had brewing for the story. I just thought it would be fun to see how the character was doing rather than creating a whole new one.



Which of your books best represents you?

Well, I haven’t written too many at this point, but I put a bit of myself in all of my main characters. I have to admit somewhat shamefully though that my last book, The Thing in the Lake, definitely had the most of me in its lead character Billy McGregor. I think with The Edgewood Nightmare, Maddie Durant is more the kid I wished I was. In that she has struggles she overcomes over the course of the book, and I think this was more me rewriting history in how I wish I overcame more of the struggles I faced as a child. I was unfortunately one of those kids who gave up on things too easily when they got hard.

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

I think anything that Jamie says in The Edgewood Nightmare is classic. She was my one character who just didn’t care what anyone thought of her. I love characters like that.


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

So I’ve mentioned my latest book, The Edgewood Nightmare, a few times, but to dive into more details specific to this question, this book was my attempt to dive into all the things I was dealing with as a child. All the fears I had, or horrible people I had to deal with in the neighborhood I lived in, they’re all represented in some form through this novel. To get into more specifics, The Edgewood Nightmare is about a girl who just wants to be an artist, but her whole world is thrown upside down with four other girls when they’re kidnapped and forced into a nightmare world they have seemingly no way to escape from.

As for what I am working on next. I mentioned briefly in another question it’s about a small town, but more specifically it’s my attempt at a classic ghost story. I am a huge fan of horror stories where small towns are under siege by some monstrous threat, so I thought, what if that threat were ghosts? Sure, you have stuff like The Fog that did this, but I was always disappointed that turned into more of a ghost slasher film. I thought with my next book, Castillo Cove, I could take a kind of kitchen sink approach, throwing in all my favorite elements of ghost related horror. I should be releasing that next year, but I think readers will have a lot of fun with it. I wanted to fashion something akin to a rollercoaster with a slow build in the first half and then just madness for the second half. It’s definitely my most ambitious project to date, with a lot of great characters that will keep readers guessing who will live or die throughout.

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

Well, I’m happy to say a lot of the worst clichés have been erased over time. I think when any horror staple becomes tired, somebody inevitably comes along to toss it out the window. The biggest offender to me was stuff like the final girl being a virgin, that whole slasher concept that sex=death was always kind of stupid. But I think there’s always ways to mix up a formula. I especially love misdirects about who the audience thinks the main character is.

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

This question is funny for me because both were Stephen King books. I’ve slowed down my reading in past couple years for a variety of reasons, but always try to pick up new King books. I found The Institute to be one of his best ever, feeling like he was back in his prime with that. Then I read his recent novel Later and couldn’t even finish it. It just felt like a recycling of elements from his earlier books and not done nearly as well. I got bored halfway through and the book isn’t even that long.

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

I wish I got asked more about why I love horror or better yet what got me into horror. Surprisingly not many people ask that.

​Maddie Durant is trying to enjoy a snow day in December when she finds herself suddenly trapped in a world of endless, inescapable nightmares. Unfortunately for the small community of Edgewood, she's not the only one. As four other young girls go missing in the span of a few hours, the Wakefield Police have their hands full trying to find out who took them.
And things aren't looking good.
The lone detective on the police force has few clues and little hope of locating the girls, but Maddie’s brother thinks he may know where she's hidden. With the help of her best friend, the pair aren't going to let their parents or the police stop them from finding the missing girls.
Meanwhile, the girls will have to work together and summon their courage if they hope to escape a horrible fate. But without any answers to who took them and why, it's anyone's guess who will make their way out of the Edgewood nightmare.

The Uncanny has become one of the most popular forms of modern horror in recent years, but for many readers – and writers – it remains insubstantial and hard to pin down. We know what it is when we see it – in the stories of Shirley Jackson or Robert Aickman, for example – but if we’re asked to define it we often struggle to explain what it is that makes a particular story Uncanny, beyond that ‘uncanny’ feeling.


In Writing the Uncanny, edited by Richard V. Hirst and myself (published 23rd September 2021, Dead Ink Books), we asked thirteen writers of the Uncanny to unpick their craft for us. They explore not only what makes fiction uncanny, but also how writers can approach writing uncanny stories. Here, I ask four of the contributors to the book – co-editor Richard V. Hirst, and authors Alison Moore, Lucie McKnight Hardy and Chikodili Emelumadu – to illuminate the shadowy corners of the Uncanny for us.


Dan Coxon: Briefly, how would you define the Uncanny?


Richard V. Hirst: I suppose the Uncanny is very broadly a not-quite-rightness about the world, a phenomenon where it seems as though there is a logic and dynamic at play which are inscrutable. And unlike horror, where the object of fear is apparent, the harder that not-quite-rightness is to pin down, the more Uncanny it is. For that reason, landing on a decent definition for the Uncanny is difficult.


Alison Moore: I associate it with a sense of strangeness in something familiar, or a weird familiarity in something Other.


Lucie McKnight Hardy: For me, it’s that sense that something is not quite right with a situation, but it might be difficult to define exactly what has made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A creeping sense of unease that increases in intensity. There doesn’t necessarily have to be any sort of climax for something to be uncanny – rather, the opposite.


Chikodili Emelumadu: I think the Uncanny, to me, is anything that unsettles you and makes you question the veracity of your reality. We often walk around like we are the most apex of predators. The Uncanny is the thing that says “Surprise, fucker!” and grabs your ankles, haha. (Do not excuse my French.) 


Coxon: What in particular appeals to you about writing uncanny stories? What does it offer you as a writer that other forms don’t?


Moore: The way the Uncanny captures strangeness can feel perversely truthful and deeply satisfying. I love that it belongs in both realism and horror (as well as other genres) and what it brings to that lovely liminal place in between.


Hirst: I think the Uncanny suits authors for whom writing is a kind of collaboration between themselves and their readers. There are many writers for whom the object of their creativity is to deliver their complete vision with the reader there to bear witness. But there are also writers for whom relying on their readers’ imaginations to shoulder some of the work is an integral part of their creative process. Writing which is spare and pregnant with ellipses and apparent non-sequiturs means there are corners and corridors of the story which are dimly lit, necessitating the reader to light their own flame and define for themselves what it is they see. As a reader, these are the kinds of stories which resonate with me the strongest and stay with me for longer.


Emelumadu: A lot of people believe – erroneously – that uncanny stories have no rules, which leads to the presumption that it is easy to do, or that it lends itself to lazy thinking or writing. There is freedom in the genre, yes, but it is that of imagination. Ideas, concepts, fears, desires can take any shape or form in an uncanny story. It’s not a lawless wasteland. 


Hardy: Very simply, it gives you the opportunity to explore your own fears. Writing the Uncanny lets you venture into the dark spaces you might otherwise avoid – some people might say it’s cathartic.


Coxon: Being a mode rather than a genre, the Uncanny often pops up in unexpected places. What have you seen/read/experienced that has surprised you with its uncanny effect?


Hardy: My phone is full of photos of things I have spotted while out walking that have made me pause because of their incongruity and the uncanny effect this has. A child’s glove upended on a railing; a boot discarded in a hedgerow; a single leafless tree when all its fellows are fully clothed. All things which beg the question: what has happened here to cause this?


Moore: I’m impressed when I think back to the children’s TV of the 1970s and ’80s – those eerie dramas that were like a masterclass in the Uncanny long before I knew what the word meant.


Hirst: I think one of the uncanniest experiences for me was when I first started to read Robert Aickman. I encountered him when a friend of mine who worked in a library gave me a Faber Finds edition of Cold Hand in Mine which had been removed from circulation. As I read the stories over the course of a week or so, odd things began to happen to me – not outright odd, just not-quite-right: on a number of separate train journeys, all in different locations and times of the day. I encountered the same man, a restaurant owner with whom I ended up lapsing into conversation and hearing about how he was concerned about leaving his business to his younger son – his elder son was more trustworthy but, for reasons I never quite gleaned, was out of the picture. Another train journey brought me into contact with a man who supplied animal brains to medical students and was experiencing problems with his supply chains. Another time I encountered a man with what appeared to be two prosthetic hands who owned a second-hand bookshop I’d entered – he insisted on giving me a pineapple with my purchases yet was unable to pick it up from a bag behind the counter, eventually losing patience with the situation and with me. Each of these encounters had a heightened, unreal quality, as though experienced in a dream. Would they have seemed this way without my having read Robert Aickman? Would they have happened at all? I’ve mentioned this occurrence to others and have heard reports – by no means with any uniformity – of readers of Aickman experiencing what felt to them similarly strange encounters.


Coxon: For those who are looking to read more uncannily, what stories, novels or writers would you recommend?


Emelumadu: Octavia Cade, Catriona Ward, Lesley Nneka Arimah, Paul Tremblay, Helen Oyeyemi, Priya Sharma.


Moore: Definitely Shirley Jackson’s fiction, some of which I’ve written about in my essay in Writing the Uncanny. One of the most outrageously uncanny novels I've read is Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Unconsoled. I love the uncanny quality of Tove Jansson’s Moomin books. And a couple of very recent pleasures include ‘Dead Relatives’, the novella-length title story of Lucie McKnight Hardy’s debut collection, and ‘The Angle of Horror’ by Cristina Fernández Cubas, translated by James D. Jenkins and published in The Valancourt Book of World Horror Stories.


Hardy: I would suggest reading anything and everything by Alison Moore, Nicholas Royle, Andrew Michael Hurley, Claire Dean, Sue Rainsford, and Joyce Carol Oates. And any chapbooks published by Nightjar Press.


Hirst: Writing the Uncanny features a very handy ‘further reading’ section which lists 100 Uncanny short stories. Of those, I personally think that Oliver Onions’s long 1911 ghost story ‘The Beckoning Fair One’ is the finest and one of the most unsettling ghost stories there is, and a perfect example of the power that revealing very little can exert on the reader.


Coxon: So does the Uncanny have to scare us, or do you look for something else in uncanny stories?


Emelumadu: Fear, unease, discomfort and stupefaction are great reactions to horror. A lot of great horror sticks with you long after you’ve finished reading it. 


Moore: I think the real power of the Uncanny is often a slow-burn, under-the-skin kind of horror or unease. I have a couple of stories that my husband really enjoyed reading but then he had a hard time trying to get to sleep afterwards, thinking about them, and I’m half very sorry and half delighted that the story works.


Hirst: Uncanny experiences – and stories which attempt to harness the Uncanny – frighten us because they suggest that things are not as they appear. That figure standing at the end of the room turns out to be a robe hung on a peg; the pile of clothing spotted in a busy city centre turns out to be an elderly woman. Inanimate objects are briefly invested with life and the living are briefly inanimate. More than simply wrongfooting us, these experiences also lead us to question the nature of what surrounds us – a simple mistake of cognitive perspective feels like the trailing glimpse of some cosmic glitch, a glancing contact with the mystery which we all, at one time or another, feel underpins our reality.


Hardy: Rather than trying to instil horror in a reader, I find writing that is unsettling or unnerving to be much more effective in triggering a reaction. An insidious sense of unease, for me, is, perversely, much more enjoyable than jump scares and gore. Uncanny stories don’t have to terrify us – they can confound, disturb and alarm us, and the effect of that will remain long after the reading has ended.

We are honoured to welcome Silvia Cantón Rondoni to Ginger Nuts of Horror for a special interview with Lee Murray and Geneve Flynn, to celebrate the success of the amazing anthology Black Cranes 

Silvia: Congratulations on your many recent awards, Lee. I would like to begin by talking about the award-winning work you created and released during the 2020 pandemic and how it came together. Tell me about the thought processes behind Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women (Omnium Gatherum Media), winner of the Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson Awards for Anthology; and Grotesque Monster Stories (Things in the Well), the Bram Stoker Award winner for Fiction Collection.

Lee: Thank you, Silvia.
​
I met long-time social media acquaintance, Geneve Flynn, in person at Brisbane’s GenreCon in November 2019, in those halcyon days just before the global pandemic had taken hold, before words like COVID-19 and hydroxychloroquine became part of our general lexicon. The two of us turned up early to a panel session, and being the only people in the lobby, we started chatting, beginning with the deep-seated social expectation that Asian women will be conscientious and punctual. We explored other points of connection: horror, tea, chicken feet, tiger mothers. I might have asked her if she could back a trailer. In those twenty minutes before we took our seats for the panel, we were already asking who the other Asian women writers of horror were. In what ways had those writers assumed, or rejected, the traditional notions Asian femininity? Where was the horror anthology of Asian women’s voices? We lingered after the conference event, chatting some more. Fast forward two weeks: I was back in New Zealand, we had a concept, a publisher, and the beginnings of a contributor list, and by the time New Zealand went into Level 4 lockdown (we’re back in Level 4 lockdown now), contracts had been signed and the cover art designed. In the publishing-speak, this is what we’d call breakneck speed.

With Grotesque: Monster Stories, it was more of a slow-burn approach. I’d worked with Shirley Jackson Award-nominee Steve Dillon, the publisher-editor at Things in the Well, on a number of projects, including a shared world community building project The Refuge Collection, where my award-winning short story “The Thief’s Tale” was first published. The hardback version of The Refuge Collection Vol 1-3 is one of the prettiest productions I’ve ever seen, with gorgeous colour plates on every page. I said as much to Steve, who insisted that if I ever considered putting out a short story collection, I should approach him first. Well, of course, I put that down to him being polite. I was still a baby writer. It was far too early to put out a ‘greatest hits’ album. Some years went by, during which time I worked with Things in the Well on a number of other publications. Steve asked me again for a collection in 2019, and this time he was more persuasive. After getting some reassurance from Australia’s horror queen, Kaaron Warren, I spent some time considering my backlist, discovered a monster theme running through the stories, and, made a plan to write a few more, including a Taine Mckenna novelette. I delivered the finished collection, Grotesque: Monster Stories at the end of January 2020, just as Black Cranes, and the pandemic, were swinging into gear.

I was still working on final revisions to Grotesque: Monster Stories when New Zealand went into lockdown in March 2020. At that time, my publisher (Steve/Things in the Well) and I had a discussion about whether to push on or delay the book’s release (originally planned to coincide with ConZealand in August 2020) until later in the year or even the following year, when we had more clarity, since already there were rumours of global print shipments being delayed or possibly even suspended. It was a very uncertain time. But we also noticed increased chatter in our social media about books and reading, perhaps because people were looking for a distraction from the horror unfolding around us, or perhaps because there is comfort in seeing adventures in which ordinary folks win through. Given we had no visibility on what might happen at that point, we decided to push on.
​
Silvia: I love hearing these behind-the-scenes stories, they provide an insight into our supportive writers’ community. Let’s talk about Black Cranes, your pandemic work with co-editor Geneve Flynn began as COVID entered our lives. For many of us writers, work created during such uncertain times has been both a struggle and a source of resilience. I would like to know how curating Black Cranes impacted you, your co-editor and contributors, and if there’s anything that would have been done differently if COVID had not happened. (It would be great if Geneve could add her five cents, too.)

Geneve: Black Cranes has allowed me to connect with so many wonderful horror folks. I’ve also been able to write about my experience of being part of the Southeast Asian diaspora, which given some of the anti-Asian sentiment surrounding COVID, was particularly timely. In terms of what we would have done differently, we were going to launch the anthology at WorldCon in New Zealand. We had such plans for the book launch and catching up with writing friends, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Lee: As Geneve says, before the pandemic broke, we had envisioned announcing the release of Black Cranes at the HWA StokerCon event in Scarborough (UK) in March, and then release the book for WorldCon (ConZealand) in early August 2020, where five of us hoped to meet. When both events were forced to go virtual, I had chat with Kate Jones at Omnium Gatherum, much as I had with Steve regarding Grotesque. What should we do? Could we launch the book later, perhaps in the fall? Would bookstores even be open? Kate suggested delaying a month or two, so on 27 March 2020 we sent a message to our Black Cranes sisterhood to let them know that we intended to push on, but our release date might be delayed by a month or two. We offered those who needed it additional time to write, which turned out to me because my father died ten days later. However, our contributors’ desire to see the anthology go forward was overwhelming; they were watching Anti-Asian sentiment play out in the news, sometimes in their own neighbourhoods, and occasionally even directed at them. One writer said, “Given the current situation in the world, I am so happy that Black Cranes is moving ahead. I think it’s an important time, more important than ever, to be visible and confident in the face of this virus that many people are blaming on Asians.” One writer told me she was so upset about the hate she was seeing that she bashed the keyboard as she wrote her story. Nor do I think it is a coincidence that fury is a key theme of Black Cranes, several of our writers choosing to use the word in the titles of their work. And from their comments made privately to Geneve and me, those, who, like me, had lost family members in those early months of the pandemic, saw the act of continuing the book as symbol of resilience and survival.

As well as curating and editing, I wrote two stories for Black Cranes, “Phoenix Claws” and “Frangipani Wishes” both of which I believe I wrote in May. To this day, I really don’t recall writing them because I believed my creativity was stunted as you can see from this frank response I sent to Rena Mason, author of “The Ninth Tale”, in April: “Totally understand the lack of writing mojo thing. I’ve been foundering, too. Fuggy. Slow. Overwhelmed. Partly, I think it is this weird state of delayed grief for my dad, and also the confinement.” When another contributor sent an apology to excuse a slower response to emails after losing a relative to COVID, I wrote, “So many of us have increased workloads, and this sense of numbness that accompanies the uncertainty is simply overwhelming—no one could have expected this when we set out to put together a little book.”

In the end, we delayed the book’s release two months, releasing it in late September, on my birthday. There were no in-person launches—for Black Cranes or for Grotesque: Monster Stories—and yet, for me, sending the books into the world felt cathartic, important. Perhaps it had something to do with the loss of my dad, and the realisation that we can’t always guarantee tomorrow.

Silvia: I know what you mean, catharsis and that sense of impending doom gave us the drive to do as much as we can while we can. That is exactly what made me push through my own poetry projects during the pandemic as I took 2020 off work to focus on myself and my mental health. I think it is important to remember that while some of us have been overwhelmed with increased workloads, others have found themselves in the opposite place. Double isolated due to personal problems, unemployment, etc as well as creative obstacles. What would be your advice for them? How are you wrapping up your head around the pandemic while keeping yourself grounded?

Lee: As someone who also suffers from depression and anxiety, I am so sorry to hear of your struggles with your mental health, Silvia. Challenging under normal circumstances, and especially so during the pandemic. And research indicates that creatives are more likely to suffer from mental illness than the general population. I’m a mentor for a number of organisations, and one thing I noted during 2020 was that my mentees, and my critique colleagues, were highly prolific, sending me more work than usual to critique and edit, much of it confronting and insightful. Since many writers, including writers of horror, claim that the act of writing and creating can help to placate their mental health demons, I wonder if this accounts for the greater output and exceptional quality of works produced in this traumatic period. For me, although I found it difficult to write during those very stressful months while New Zealand was in lockdown, I didn’t stop trying to be creative. Just the act of sitting down and working on a story or a poem was important, with the focus on the process rather than the product. The horror writing community has kept me grounded. People like Geneve Flynn and the Black Cranes sisterhood. In a bizarre twist, the pandemic, while isolating us physically, has opened up some wonderful opportunities for connection and inclusion that weren’t readily available to us previously. Yes, we’re heartily sick of screens by now, but the fellowship I’ve experienced through participating in virtual conventions, vlogs, and podcasts has been vital for keeping the black dog at bay. There is something reassuring about being invited into an author’s living room and spying their washing basket in the background, or a small child running about evading bath time, and it reminds us that we’re all human and that we’re in this together.

Silvia Cantón Rondoni is a Spanish-born Australian poet, writer, and visual artist who identifies as neurodivergent and pansexual. Her poetry collection Stark Naked was released worldwide by IFWG Australia in June 2021. The poems in Stark Naked reveal her transition from childhood through grief and trauma to the resilient woman she is today, and are illustrated by artist Silvia Nieto. Silvia Canton Rondoni is also the editor of the poetry anthology Infectious Hope which brings together outstanding literary and genre poets writing about their experiences of hope and resilience during COVID. Infectious Hope is due for publication in late 2021. Experienced editor and literary translator, Silvia runs Telltale Literary Translation. She focuses on interpreting works published in English and aids authors with their tales' transition into the Spanish language while remaining faithful to their original tone, voice, and style. Silvia has worked with award-winning authors Lee Murray and David Bowles. Silvia has an Associate Degree of Writing and Editing from RMIT and lives in Canberra with award-winning New Zealand writer Paul Mannering and her bulldog Patch. Find her on

https://poetsilviacr.wixsite.com/poetsilviacr
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