Guest Post by Tonya L. De Marco

“I’m gonna kill you!”

How many times do we hear or say that every week? Chances are quite a few. It’s usually a harmless statement, but I like to think about the people that mean it. The people that silently scream it over and over in their heads while hiding it behind a serene smile. They march through everyday life as if in a masquerade, their faces reflecting only the emotions they choose to show us. Hiding behind the facades are images of spurting blood and victim’s pleas for mercy. The beast must be fed.

Those are the monsters I’m afraid of. And those are the monsters I’m inspired to transform into characters for my stories. Not the green alien creatures, werewolves, vampires or zombies…but the monsters that walk among us every day hiding in plain sight. The killer that sits in the next cubicle vetting her next victim. The classmate of our children who spends his free time studying blueprints of the school building rather than doing his homework. The ones that the neighbors and friends tell the reporters that “he was always so nice, so quite. He just stayed to himself.”

I’m intrigued by serial killers and, in particular, monstrous women. I think my fascination comes from the fact that I believe we all have demons deep inside of us that are capable of the heinous acts committed by these murderers. We all feel some hate or have a desire at one time or another for vengeance. What is it that keeps us from acting upon these impulses? What is different about them that allows their beasts the freedom to come forth?

Love and passion can turn to hate and thirst for revenge in the blink of an eye. So what makes someone follow through on those violent thoughts? What’s the difference between a person who “snaps” and may never kill again as opposed to someone that murders over and over again, carefully plotting and planning the crime? How are we, the normal people, able to control our rages? These are the questions I seek to answer in writing my dark characters.

My inspiration comes from real-life killers, past and present. The atrocities that humans are capable of inflicting against each another are far more terrifying to me than the stereotypical monster. I typically make my characters experience horrible things in their past to help explain why they might be the way they are. Research has shown that the amygdala is enlarged in the brains of sociopaths, which may lead to answers about what drives their urges.

Everyone has the potential inside themselves. Therein lies the biggest fascination for me. People will say, “I could never do that.” And, after seeing the movie SAW, many reiterated that they couldn’t make those life-and-death choices. I respectfully disagree. I invite those folks to sit down and meet their amygdala, the primitive brain. Constantly alert to the needs of basic survival, the amygdala would certainly trigger a “kill or be killed” reaction even in people that, in their higher brain, believe they have no capacity for.

I’m a petite red headed woman and even I carry this burden. For me, instead of applying a weapon to flesh, I feed my beast with pen to paper.

About the Author:

Tonya L. De Marco is a Costume Designer, Cosplayer, Model, and Author. She splits her time between the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. She’s been hooked on costumes and costuming since she was a preteen. Tonya has over twenty years of sewing experience which includes designing and sewing numerous costumes for school plays and local theater.

Tonya cosplays across multiple genres including anime, sci-fi, steampunk, Disney, comic book, and pin-up. She attends several conventions per year across the country and enjoys meeting and talking with people about cosplay. Tonya has been involved in costume contests/masquerades as both a participant and a judge—at different times, of course!

When she isn’t sewing or writing, Tonya enjoys spending time with her family, friends, and her three adopted miniature donkeys – Rogue, Storm, and Phoenix. Visit her at GuyAndTonya.com.

Sexy Monsters

October 12, 2015

Colette Black

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I first realized I was in love with monsters when I watched “Love at First Bite” in the late 70’s. Maybe it was George Warm_Bodies_6 Hamilton, maybe it was Disco, yet that fascination has remained. And yep, just about any monster is acceptable, and I’m not alone. There are a number of women fascinated with romantic leads ranging from vamps, to werewolves, to Frankenstein’s monster, to even Zombies. But why? What do these dangerous men have to offer that your run-of-the-mill bad boy can’t provide? Why are we so turned on by a creature that could horrifically rip us apart? And why do women want to read about such dangerous unhealthy relationships in the first place?

First of all, let’s recognize that we’re focusing on going for the bad boy as entertainment, not real life. In real life, a woman’s need to have relationships with men that fit the “bad-boy” sterotype is usually related to daddy issues. But there are some similarities between the woman’s outlook of why she goes for the bad-boy in real life and why the rest of us go for the monster in our entertainment.

In a post at http://www.theproblemismen.com/rants/badboys, the woman’s perspective is discussed. Number one reason for a bad boy? Great sex. Women assume that a tough, masculine looking man will be more fun in bed. And if a bad boy, with all his muscles, smoldery eyes, and tough attitude is good then imagine a werewolf! That bad boy would have it all and more! So who wins a pissing contest between them? No contest.

Next reason, the challenge. The woman says to herself, “I want to be so amazing that his love for me will change him into a kind of bad boy/nice guy, Edward who will be dependable, protective, and stay with me forever.” Um…reality check! But since when are we looking for reality checks in our fiction? I know that I can’t single-handedly bring down a dragon with a dinky sword, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to imagine that I could. With monster vs. human, it’s amazing for a man to change his rough attitude for a woman, but a being that is basically coded to kill people in order to survive. Now that’s a challenge. Hence, “Twilight.”

Like the best rollercoasters, bad boys give us a thrill. Hanging out with the bad boys is a way to rebel against society norms, against parents, against expectations…and we tend to find those things thrilling. Would mom be upset if we dated a drummer with tatts, face-rings, and occasional drug use? Well, how about a being with tatts, face-rings, daddy-issues, weapons, and who kills demons on a regular basis? (Cassandra Clare’s “The Mortal Instruments.”)

Okay, so now that we’ve established that monsters are badder than bad-boys in every way, who in their right mind would want a bad boy as a boyfriend? Though rollercoaster rides sometimes seem too short, we wouldn’t want them to never end. And isn’t that what fiction is all about? The ride? Reading allows us a vicarious experience that deep down we know we would never want to be our reality. Some reading helps us think about topics in ways we never have before, we might become better people, but sometimes it’s an escape, a thrilling ride of impossibility before we go back to our ordinary, safe, and quite blissful lives.

Don’t worry that because your daughter has a fascination with Twilight that she will think her life will be happier with a former murderer/stalker/bad-boy. Reality slaps all of us in the face enough that we figure out pretty soon that those aren’t the guys we really want to try building a future with. There are exceptions, and bad guys can change, but most of us recognize the majority rule. Playing with the monsters, aliens, and bad guys in entertainment is just that, entertainment. It’s a story line that I particularly enjoy and if you’ve read my Mankind’s Redemption books then you know that the monster/bad-boy protagonist is one of my sandboxes.

And next time you think you might want to ridicule the power of the monster, think about the kinds of books you enjoy. Would you really want to apply the situations and what your protagonists do and say into your real life? Would you really want to fight a gladiator to the death? In real life, do you think you’d win? Didn’t think so. Then don’t mock us, join us. We are brothers and sisters comprised of readers who extend their imaginations. Best. Rollercoaster. Ever!

Colette Black Bio:

Colette Black lives in the far outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona with her family, 2 dogs, a mischievous cat and the occasional unwanted scorpion. She loves learning new things, vacations, and the color purple. She writes New Adult and Young Adult sci-fi and fantasy novels with kick-butt characters, lots of action, and always a touch of romance.

Where Did You Come Up With That?

October 9, 2015

Frank Morin

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People always tell young authors, “Write what you know.”

How does that work if I’m writing about a serial killer? Or writing about domestic violence? Or writing about sexual perversions? Or writing any excellent, creepy, messed-up-in-the-head villain? Does writing those types of genres or characters mean that I, as the author, must also be evil, creepy, or otherwise messed up in the head?

Many people seem to think so when they ask, “Where do you come up with this stuff?” Sometimes they say it in a tone of awe, but more often they whisper it in a fear-laced voice while nervously shuffling farther away.

Horror stories are popular, and the best bad guys are the complex, creepy ones that make you shudder to read about or view on the big screen. Does that mean Mary Shelley was really a mad scientist so that she could invent Frankenstein? Or that Thomas Harris, the writer of The Silence of the Lambs, was a psycho killer?

Of course not.

That’s like asking, was Steven Spielberg really an alien, or George Lucas a Jedi Knight? As much as we want to believe they might be, of course they’re not.

So how can you write what you know and at the same time write something there’s no way you could know?

That’s where the artwork and the imagination come in, where the mastery of craft and vision meld with experience.

To write great horror, an author needs to understand what scares people. We’ve all felt fear. A good author knows how to trigger that fear, make the reader feel like they’re in the dark woods with the hero, smelling the scent of decaying leaves crackling underfoot, hear the soft moaning of the wind clacking dead branches together overhead, sense movement in the shadows nearby, and feel absolutely sure that something is out there . . . watching.

If they can do that, they can write good horror. Or fantasy. Or whatever other genre they decide to pursue. Because writing draws from the human condition, and that is something writers need to know. Coupling that understanding with a powerful imagination and a willingness to step into the shadows of the mind to give life to a truly creepy villain is what produces memorable moments in fiction.

Is it a challenge as a writer to consider evil and not be tainted by it? Perhaps. But it’s not really different from the challenge faced by actors who portray villains or other deviant behavior. They have to act out the evil deeds. Writers need to talk about it, delve into the mind, try to imagine what might motivate a ‘bad’ person to do what they do. In both cases, the actor or author who is well grounded in their own life need not worry about getting sucked into the darkness they’re exploring for their fans.

Those cases where they do slide into darkness are usually caused because they lack that grounding, that strong sense of self. It’s seen most often among popular child actors who haven’t had a chance to discover who they are before being forced to pretend to be someone else. That’s got to be tough, and I think that’s why a lot of child actors have so much trouble as they get older.

Most authors begin really writing as adults, and we usually need other careers to support us for the difficult first years as we perfect our craft and develop the skills to break out as a writer. That time and experience helps ground us.

So study the human condition, explore the boundaries of your imagination, and know your own heart so you can always find your way back home.

Then when someone asks you, “How can you write such evil people so well?”

You can give them a slow smile and shrug. “I write what I know.”

About the Author: Frank Morin

Frank Morin loves good stories in every form. When not writing or trying to keep up with his active family, he’s often found hiking, camping, Scuba diving, or enjoying other outdoor activities. For updates on upcoming releases of his popular Petralist YA fantasy novels, or his fast-paced Facetakers alternate history fantasy series, check his website: www.frankmorin.org

Using What Scares You

October 8, 2015

Leigh Galbreath

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I went to a publishing conference in New York some years ago, and an agent said that a great author is a great storyteller. You can have all the craft and technique in the world, but if you aren’t a good storyteller, you won’t become a true success. Alternately, you can have the worst craft and know nothing of technique and be the next huge star of the publishing world. Yet, she could not define what made a good storyteller, like it’s some nebulous thing that cannot be truly understood. She was in the “you can’t learn it, you just have to be born with it” camp, a believer in which I am not.

But what is good storytelling if it’s not the expert use of craft and technique? I’ve been puzzling over it for years and I think I finally figured out a rather large component—a good storyteller is one who can tap into emotion with every word.

We humans, above all else, are creatures of emotion. We like to think we are creatures of intellect and reason and morality, but these things are constructs we’ve created to put limitations and controls over the nasty, hind-brain, instinctual animal side that is human emotion. Emotion motivates us in pretty much everything we do. Our desire to feel happiness, love, safety, pleasure all shape our choices. Our desire to not feel pain, sorrow, grief, all push us to move in a particular direction, even if it’s subconsciouly. Every choice we make is rooted in our emotional health, or lack thereof. Our need to feel one emotion over another.

The crazy thing is, everyone human being past, present, or future feels the same emotions. Emotion is the one, true universal language. It is the one thing we all as a species, share, and no emotion is more familiar to us all than fear. Writing our fear, more than any other emotion, can truly raise a writer’s prose to new heights.

There’s two ways of writing what frightens us, and both are equally beneficial. The first is the obvious definition—if we want our audience to fear something, start with what we, ourselves, are the most afraid of. J.K. Rowling once said that she decided to put giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest in Harry Potter and Chamber of Secrets because she herself was afraid of spiders. Similarly, Peter Jackson’s rendering of Shelob in the Return of the King was built off his personal arachnophobia. Think of it as a mind hack. It’s easier to write what we know, how we personally feel about a particular thing or situation when we write about something that makes us feel the emotion we want to invoke. It’s easy to make spiders terrifying if the author is terrified of the creepy bastards, but harder to make a horse frightening if they make the author all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be a monster. It can be a fear of rejection, a fear of success, a fear of fear itself. It’s making the fear personal that’s the key, no matter what genre or sub-genre we are writing. Every genre deals with some sort of fear, and the more we make that fear our own, the easier it is to make the reader feel it with us.

The second way of looking at writing what one fears isn’t so obvious, and it’s something we all face at one point or another. It’s taking on those scenes that make us cringe. You know those scenes, the ones that make us uncomfortable or leave us at a loss. Wether its fight scenes or sex scenes or scenes of moral uncertainty, we all have a scene somewhere that tempts us to just skip it and have it happen off screen. After all, the worst fear of any writer is that an important, necessary scene will suck and bring the whole piece down.

But nine times out of ten, that seemingly impossible scene will become one of the more powerful moments in a story. Dan Wells once said that a scene in I Am Not a Serial Killer, where the protagonist draws a knife on his mother, was an especially difficult scene to write, but the final product is one of the most emotionally impactful moments in the book. Alternately, I have a friend who kept skipping over scenes where people were fighting (verbally or physically) because he wasn’t comfortable with violence, but it left his work lacking conflict and the story suffered because of it.

Part of why this is so effective, I think, is that the struggle to get the scene written and fear that it won’t work makes us slow down and take a long, hard look at what we’re doing, much more so than a scene that just plops itself down on the page. Difficult scenes force us to pull out all the stops, to dig deep and give it our all, thereby forcing us to put our best work on the page because anything less would just prolong the torture. Also, fear is conflict, and whether it’s felt by the character or just subconsciously by the author, it puts an edge, an undercurrent in the scene that can lift it above simple prose. It’s always the scenes I didn’t want to write, the ones that kick my ass, that I always end up the most satisfied with, and I think it’s because of the fear. If I wasn’t afraid of what I was writing, the writing would not be as good. Period.

Use the fear, share it. It won’t be easy, but more likely than not, your readers will feel it, and what they feel is what will stay with the reader long after they finish the story.