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BIO B.R. Yeager reps Western Massachusetts. He is the author of Negative Space (Apocalypse Party), Amygdalatropolis (Schism Press) and Pearl Death (Inside the Castle). Could you tell the readers a little bit about yourself? It’s nothing too exciting. I’m a lifelong New Englander. I’ve been writing and coming up with stories since I was little, before taking a long hiatus between high school and my mid-20s being in bands, since that’s what all my friends were doing. I got back into writing in 2013, and it’s taken over my life since. Over the past five years, I’ve written two novels and a limited-edition deck of cards that functions as a non-linear novelette. Which one of your characters would you least like to meet in real? I’ve already met them. Other than the horror genre, what else has been a major influence on your writing? Music is an enormous influence—it’s how I set and develop the tone and mood for a book. Negative Space, for instance—the tone was heavily informed by artists like Khanate, Fever Ray, Wicca Phase Springs Eternal, Bohren & Der Club of Gore, and Pig Destroyer. I prioritize atmosphere over everything in my writing, and because music is so effective at conveying mood, finding the right music to reinforce the atmosphere is essential to my process. 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 of horror as being any work that induces a feeling of dread, strangeness and unease. Working from that assumption, every boundary falls away. 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 have no idea. I’m going to say up front that I’m too big on direct allegory—it usually feels shallow to me. But the horror genre is frequently a terrific record of psychology and emotion—while the stories may not capture the precise events of an era, they certainly capture the feelings. An example I like to use is the original Dawn of the Dead. While it’s often referenced for how it satirizes consumerism, I don’t think that reading goes far enough. There’s so much going on in that film. One thing that stands out is this sense of utter desperation to maintain the dream of affluent, homogenous, suburban living even after that dream has collapsed. It goes beyond consumerism. It’s the decimation of lifelong assumptions around what constitutes reality. It’s the sudden realization that your country is a monster. The anxiety of realizing you cannot return to a more naïve state of being. The characters could have done anything after society collapsed, but they tried to build a life like their old one. Given the dark, violent and at times grotesque nature of the horror genre why do you think so many people enjoy reading it? I read and write horror for identical reason—as a means of processing and reconciling aspects of myself, of others, and of the world that appear too ugly to directly address. Horror is at its best (in my opinion) when it is revelatory. And like I said previously, horror can function as a document of the era’s psychological and emotional climate. That’s a key reason for why I write—to document aspects of the present that seem underacknowledged. What, if anything, is currently missing from the horror genre? I’m not sure I would say anything is missing from the genre—there is so much out there across the entire spectrum of styles and topics. I suppose I would love to see more fiction less concerned with straightforward narratives, and more concerned with abstraction, or immersion in a feeling, a place, or an event. I love work that disorients, that does away with plot and exposition altogether and lets you wallow in strange darkness. Some great books that accomplish this are The Orange Eats Creeps by Grace Krilanovich, 300,000,000 by Blake Butler, The Unyielding by Gary J. Shipley, and Love Hotel by Jane Unrue. What new and upcoming authors do you think we should take notice off? Elytron Frass is another writer who accomplishes what I describe above. His novel Liber Exuvia is one of my favorite pieces of horror in recent years. He’s currently working on the graphic novel Vitiators with illustrator Charles N. Charlene Elsby’s Hexis is also a terrific read, for similar reasons. Are there any reviews of your work, positive or negative that have stayed with you? Honestly, I’m just thankful to be considered at all. What aspects of writing to do you find the most difficult? Maintaining my faith in the process. In the early stages of a manuscript, I need to force myself to believe it will someday be good, because it will be years before it actually is any good. I rely heavily on revision—my early drafts are so syntactically garbage they’re borderline unreadable. Honestly, I’m probably a better editor than I am a writer. I need to scrub practically every sentence until they’re clear, until they become musical. Then later, I sometimes need to go in and muddy those sentences up a little, because there will be too much clarity, and nothing is less scary than knowing exactly what’s going on. But even when I’m finished, it’s difficult for me to look at one of my books and see anything other than what I would have done differently now. Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? None I can consciously identify. If there’s a subject I’m compelled to write about, and I believe I can write about it honestly, I will find a way to write about it. That said, I never want to be exploitive, or pursue a topic solely to shock or provoke. That’s hollow and boring to me. Writing, is not a static process, how have you developed as a writer over the years? It’s difficult to tell. Whenever I begin a new book, I feel as though I am starting from scratch. I am not very conscious of my development, though when I look at my older writing, I can see it is as being weaker than my more recent work (though some aspects feel freer and wilder, which I’d like to harness again). What is the best piece of advice you ever received with regards to your writing? I’m paraphrasing, but Ben Hersey (a performance artist and author of the excellent The Autograph of Steve Industry) once said “When you’re writing something and it begins to make you uncomfortable, that’s usually a sign you’ve uncovered something worth exploring further.” That’s the impulse I chase. Which of your characters is your favourite? Tyler from Negative Space, because he’s still an enigma to me, and I can let some of my memories live with him. Which of your books best represents you? Negative Space, by far. While it is far from being strictly autobiographical, there are so many pieces of my life in it. Many of the anecdotes are based on things I’ve actually experienced—perhaps through a heightened lens, but ultimately rooted in reality. A friend recently said it seemed as though I was transposing my experiences as a teenager onto the present generation, and I think that’s an accurate read. Do you have a favorite line or passage from your work, and would you like to share it with us? I’m still pretty proud of Negative Space’s opening. It feels like an apt summation of what’s to come: It was the way he just threw his body away. How he’d carve up his torso and arms with a box cutter, or go days without sleep, replacing whole meals with pills and cigarettes. Everyone knew Tyler was going to die young. Can you tell us about your last book, and can you tell us about what you are working on next? Negative Space came out back in March through Apocalypse Party. In a dying New Hampshire mill town, four teenagers abuse a bizarre hallucinogen in order to cope with a devastating suicide epidemic. As the drug quickly takes over their lives, violent and uncanny abilities awaken within them, while a separate bleak force emerges from the surrounding mountains, threatening to ruin everything they love. For fans of Kathe Koja, Clive Barker and Mandy. I’m currently finishing a story to be included in Hymns of Abomination: Secret Songs of Leeds, a tribute anthology to Matthew M. Bartlett. That will be released through Silent Motorist Media sometime next year. I really appreciate having the opportunity to contribute, as Bartlett is a great horror writer whose work focuses on the Western Massachusetts, where I also live. If you could erase one horror cliché what would be your choice? This might be an unpopular opinion, but I think ‘70s and ‘80s-centered retro-horror has run its course. I don’t think we need any more (aside from Puppet Combo games). What was the last great book you read, and what was the last book that disappointed you? I really enjoyed Christopher Zeischegg’s The Magician. A great mixture of autofiction and occult horror. I was a little disappointed by Zoje Stage’s Baby Teeth. I enjoyed it, and while the daughter’s voice was compelling at times, many other moments felt a bit inauthentic—leaning a little too far into cutesy talk, like an impersonation of a child rather than a child. But maybe that’s just me. What's the one question you wish you would get asked but never do? And what would be the answer? “What is uniquely unsettling about New England?” But I’m not sure I have a good answer for that. Obviously so many horror/macabre writers and artists have helped give New England a reputation for eeriness, but even if you took all that away, there’s still an extremely elemental, primordial, uncanny vibe surrounding this place. I adore it. "Like smoke off a collision between Dennis Cooper’s George Miles Cycle and Beyond The Black Rainbow, absorbing the energy of mind control, reincarnation, parallel universes, altered states, school shootings, obsession, suicidal ideation, and so much else, B.R. Yeager’s multi-valent voicing of drugged up, occult youth reveals fresh tunnels into the gray space between the body and the spirit, the living and the dead, providing a well-aimed shot in the arm for the world of conceptual contemporary horror." —Blake Butler, author of Three Hundred Million “Ever wonder where teenage children go at night? Perhaps it’s best not knowing the answer. There’s something amiss in Kinsfield, a drab, boring city much like your own, except for the teenage suicide epidemic, stagnant, ineffectual parents, cultish behavior that borders on psychosis, and strings, strings everywhere. B.R. Yeager’s Negative Space is a hypnotic collage of message boards, memes, and ruined bodies twisting at the end of a rope. Most modern novels have lost all concept of magic. B.R. Yeager’s Negative Space is a stunning refutation of the quotidian.” —James Nulick, author of Haunted Girlfriend & Valencia the heart and soul of horror author interviewsComments are closed.
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