Dancing in the Dark

If you had asked me just a few years ago about the horror genre, I’d have admitted it was my guilty pleasure to read, but I would never consider writing it. I would have doubted both my ability and my qualifications. Goodness! I wrote for children! Wouldn’t that be some sort of sacrilege? But the intervening years have caused a shift in my perspective, and recent events have caused me to look at my writing self in a very different, and much darker light.

The first shift came in writing Beautiful Monster:

I’d never written anything like it, and to be completely honest, I never thought this book would be published for so many reasons. But it was, and there it is, and I’m rather proud of what it represents for me. It marked a milestone in my writing, it represents a change in both my attitude toward writing and in my perception of myself as a writer. I’ve come to love the characters and the book in a way I didn’t think was possible.

Not long after that, I was encouraged to submit a short story to a horror anthology. I dug up an old attempt I’d written years before and polished it to the publishers specifications. I was actually astonished when my story “Rita” was accepted to the Axes of Evil: A Heavy Metal Anthology.

And coming very soon, my story “Groupie” will appear in Axes of Evil II

And just released, my short story “The Lamb on the Tombstone” became part of the Utah chapter of Horror Writers Association anthology called Old Scratch and Owl Hoots.

I haven’t left children’s writing, and in fact, I’ll have a new young adult novel out in July of this year that has been waiting a long time to see the light of day. The interesting thing is, you might notice that the horror writing may be rubbing off on my children’s writing just a little bit:

For something that I never thought I could do, I think I’ve done a decent job of it. But I have zillions of stories that are waiting to be written – not all of them for kids, and not all of them horror. For me, it’s just fun to go dancing in the dark sometimes, to know that I can do it and be successful. Who knows? Maybe I’ll tackles Sci/Fi next?

Lost in My Own World

One of the great pleasures of writing is the ability to get lost in your own world for a while. You have the opportunity ditch the “real world” for a while and play God as you build your own universe and manipulate the lives of the critters who occupy it. Sometimes I only get to spend a brief time immersed in my alternate reality, and sometimes I get lost in there for days. Yes – days. I get so wrapped up in my characters, in their conflicts and their challenges, that even when I’m back in my own reality, I carry them around with me, worrying about them, fretting for their issues, listening to their conversations.  My characters are very real to me, and their dilemmas – even though I created them – are also very real to me. I dream about them, I wonder about them; they are like friends and sometimes family to me. I become detached from where I am because where they are is so much more interesting. While I love the experience, it sometimes annoys my family just a little.

Recently, I’ve been working on a sequel to Beautiful Monster, and I was so wrapped up in getting my main character through a difficult scene that I completely tuned out my environment. My oldest daughter had been talking to me about helping her out and watching my grandson when I left this universe for the one I’d created. She continued talking to me for an extended time, but realized that I was no longer part of her reality. At that point, she began reciting Mary Had a Little Lamb to me, and I didn’t actually clue in until she started singing it. Without even realizing it, I had agreed to babysit for the better part of two afternoons before my daughter realized I’d checked out. Naturally, she held me to my promise to watch her son.

 

You’d think by now my family would be used to this, but I guess used to it or not, they still get annoyed by it. I’d like to tell them I can change, but the truth is, the only way I’m going to change is if I give up writing . . . forever . . . and that’s about as likely to happen as a tidal wave in the Sahara. I’ve given up writing once. By choice even. It wasn’t a good outcome. I’d much rather have a root canal without anesthesia than go through the pain and withdrawal caused by not writing. Just the thought of not writing makes me anxious and jittery, so you can imagine how bad it would be to actually stop!

I’m trying to stay a little more grounded though. It would be bad to drift off into my own Never Never Land while watching my 2-year-old grandson. That has disaster written all over it.

I’m also trying to be present with my family. Even though I’m really not choosing my own reality over them, they don’t necessarily understand the distinction. I can appreciate their feeling that they somehow take second place to my make-believe friends and family, even though that clearly isn’t the case. But they’ve all compromised a great deal for me to follow my dream. The least I can do is give them my full attention. Well, to the best of my ability anyway.

So if you happen to come by for a visit, or we meet up somewhere at a conference, don’t be offended if I suddenly go glassy-eyed and appear to be deaf. It’s not you. It just means I’ve slipped into my own world again. I’ll be back soon. Or if you can find your way in, you’re welcome to join me! 

 

‘Tis the Season

Many writers, including me, love the Halloween season, Rarely during Easter or Thanksgiving is it acceptable to discuss decapitation, speculate on demonic possession, or compare your favorite serial killers. But during the month of October, you can focus on all the gore and horror you want without anyone necessarily running in fear.

Horror writers are a unique breed among writers. We enjoy concocting terrifying and gruesome ways of tormenting our characters and terrorizing our readers. You might expect that from us, but what you’d be surprised by is that – with limited exception – we’re pretty normal people. We love our family members and don’t wish them to become victims of dreadful crimes. We snuggle our pets and regard them as family. And we like the kinds of things that our neighbors enjoy. What makes us different is our ability to look into the dark places that most people avoid eleven months out of the year, and to draw upon the fears that most people keep quiet. We like to muck around in the psyches of very scary people to try to understand what makes them tick. And we are not afraid to step into our own dark places and dance with those inner demons for the sake of a good story.

Like writers in other genres, we seek to convey a genuine emotional experience; it’s just that we deal with emotions such as fear, anxiety, discomfort on a level that most genres don’t approach. The thing is, what we really do as horror writers is provide a service: we allow readers to address fears and anxieties through the safety of a story that belongs to someone else and not the reader him or her self. We release that emotional tension via make-believe people who really never were hurt, tortured, murdered, or in any way harmed because – well, duh – they aren’t real.

Modern psychology has held for years that facing fears helps us to overcome them. By staring what terrifies us head-on, we grow stronger and gain the ability to handle those issues more effectively.

All that being said – I will still never touch a tarantula! Ew!

 

Take advantage of the service provided by your friendly, neighborhood horror writer! You might just be surprised how much you like it!