Tag Archives: horror

The Semi-True Story

I gave a copy of Fossil Lake:  An Anthology of the Aberrant to my parents with a proviso attached:  it’s not autobiographical.

fossilThe assumption would be easy enough to make.  My contribution to Fossil Lake, the short story “Mishipishu:  The Ghost Story of Penny Jaye Prufrock,” is set at a summer camp for kids.  The name of the camp in the story, Camp Zaagaigan (the Algonquin word for “lake”) is fictional; so is Lake Mishipishu (I actually checked on the maps and found a Mishibishu Lake…)  My parents, however, would be able to name the real camp and the real lake after they read the story:  from the cabin line to that infamous H-dock, the layout of Camp Zaagaigan mirrors its real-world counterpart, and they drove me there often enough to recognize it.

From there it’s just one step further to wondering how much more of the story is real.

I’m often asked whether the characters in my story are “me,” or whether the events are “real,” and all I can ever say is that I write semi-true stories.  Semi-true in that I’ve never been able to take a person, event, or revelation and transcribe it into fiction word-for-word.  As a writer friend of mine says, real life doesn’t have to make sense, but fiction does.  Even if I’m starting with something “inspired by a true story,” in order to make event or character coherent, I have to add things here, or take things away that might have happened in real life, but don’t add anything useful to the tale I’m telling.  Sometimes changes to the story make it more dramatic, more compelling, or more satisfying; and so the events “inspired by a true story” move ever farther away from a faithful reflection of reality.  After all, I’m writing fiction—I’m not required to report on reality.  I’m required to tell an engaging and powerful tale.

And semi-true in that I do my best to write characters who feel real:  who behave in realistic ways, who are recognizable and relatable, who are emotionally honest.  When I write them, I put myself in their position and see the world through their eyes; and yes, to an extent, I feel what they feel, and try to express that emotion in the words I’m writing.  Often this emotional connection is informed by my own real-world experiences.  I do know what being bullied feels like.  I do know what doing something I know is against the rules feels like.  I don’t know what it feels like to drown, but I do know what it feels like to not be able to breathe, so I write about that…and imagine one step farther, based on research and my own ideas.  These characters aren’t me, but they have pieces of my emotions inside them.

So no, I was never bullied at that summer camp you sent me to,  Mom and Dad.  No, I never snuck out of the cabin after hours.  No, I was never a suicidal twelve-year-old, and no, I’ve never lost sight of the line between reality and imagination.

…or at least, I’ve always found it again in time.

About Mary: 

Mary Pletsch is a glider pilot, toy collector and graduate of the University of Huron College, the Royal Military College of Canada and Dalhousie University. She is the author of several previously published short stories in a variety of genres, including science fiction, steampunk, fantasy and horror. She currently lives in New Brunswick with Dylan Blacquiere and their four cats.

Mixing Horror With Other Genres

Guest Post by Petra Klarbrunn

Horror is more than just a genre on a tiny shelf at your local bookstore. Horror is an emotion, a revulsion, a reaction to something that triggers the baser instincts. After you read something that got under your skin, you have physical reactions. Your heart rate increases, your breathing quickens, and you might even get some goosebumps. Every sense is heightened, to the point where you hear things such as the house settling, where you see little shadows out of the corner of your eye, where your mouth gets dry, and when your skin feels oddly chilled. They’re caused by your natural instincts ramping up to a possible threat.

It’s this reaction that separates horror from other genres. Romance, with its chocolate-like endorphin rushes, comes in at a distant second place. Some even say horror and romance are the flip sides of the same coin, but I’m not that cynical to declare it true, perhaps because I’m a hopeless romantic.

Horror and romance also have something in common — they can be used within any other genre. There are arguments that the movie Alien is a horror movie first and foremost. It certainly has all the hallmarks — life and death struggles with an unknown monster that just won’t die, people who disappear, shocking events and revelations caused by man’s inhumanity towards mankind. Many folks liked the sequel, Aliens. More of the same, plus add in a kid in trouble and wave after wave of monsters attacking. The folks who saw the movies in the theatre probably left exhausted from having their bodies in a two hour fight-or-flight state, plus the ultimate shock at seeing how much a popcorn and soda would cost for each member of the family.

One can mix in horror or romance to shift the tone of the book. Romance can be used sparingly to build tension, such as the creepy love triangle between Luke, Leia, and Han Solo. Be careful not to let it derail the plot. If you’re writing a western, make sure westerny things go on while the characters woo each other. The same goes for horror. One can mix horrific things into the plot to build tension, to raise the stakes for the protagonist, or to even show how desperate some of the characters are.

“I don’t think we should unleash the world-devouring creature because your rival king made a remark about your nose, Sire.”

Releasing the Kracken should be reserved when all seems lost, and you want to add in one straw to your camel’s overburdened back at the end of the novel. Of course, make sure your heroine also has a way to defeat it, even if it means they fall in love…but that drifts off into hentai territory, which you should think long and hard about before venturing there.

No matter what genre you write, horror is something that can change the dynamic of your story. If your protagonist’s opposing army general too blah? Have the leader send in some assassins equipped with poisoned arrows — to kill the heroines love interest. Have the general unleash a paranormal entity that can’t be stopped. Those will push the general up the “evil villain” scale and certainly ramp up the tension for the heroine we’ve all come to love over the last 200 pages.

And if you really want to cause panic, add in a romance to the middle of your seven-volume military hard sci-fi epic. That should scare most of your readers to death.

 

Craig DiLouie on Delivering Fear Effectively

I recently met with critically renowned horror writer Craig DiLouie to talk with him about his work. Craig candidly shares his thoughts in a two part interview. In yesterday’s post, we chatted about why nice guys write horror and his deepest fears.

The-Killing-Floor-by-Craig-DiLouie2-199x300Horror delivers fear. It’s why we love it. But as writers, how can we deliver fear effectively?
Scary events are titillating, but what makes a good horror novel is characterization that draws the reader into the story in a visceral way. Good characters get people reading with their gut instead of their head. People come first, scary stuff second. Story is everything.

At first glance, you might not think THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy would win a Pulitzer and become a national bestseller. After all, in McCarthy’s dead, apocalyptic world, the survivors have resorted to vicious murder and cannibalism. Very unpleasant stuff. The reason the novel works is the story is really about a father who will do anything to protect his son in such a world, including his boy’s purity and innocence, even when ultimately their survival appears hopeless. We deeply care about what happens because we identify with the father and want him and his boy to survive.

What then what does the statement “Jacking the emotions effectively, raising the stakes higher and higher in a believable yet terrifying manner” mean to you?
If you’re going to write good horror, create a visceral connection with the reader that is emotional; that brings the reader into the story. Raise the stakes steadily, while occasionally releasing a little tension; that intensifies reader interest and hurls them toward the cathartic climax. Make it believable, which respects and enhances the reader’s willing suspension of disbelief. And, yes, scare the crap out of them along the way.

TOOTH AND NAIL is a story is about a platoon of soldiers dealing with the unthinkable – fighting people they swore to protect on their native soil. THE INFECTION is about a small group of broken people who have lost everything and are trying to reach sanctuary. SUFFER THE CHILDREN is about what parents will do for their children. When you choose a theme or an issue, is it because you’re making social or political THE-RETREAT-both-coverscommentary?
My horror operating themes tend to focus on human response to crisis and the ethics of choices associated with survival. As for specific social and political commentary, it’s more a byproduct, with any commentary being directly related to characters and their own points of view. Which brings up an interesting side point. As a writer, I don’t believe every character should have my own political and social views. That’s not telling a story, it’s preaching. So I may have characters with whom I agree and some with whom I completely disagree, and they’re treated roughly the same by the story god, which is me as the author. I have plenty of axes to grind like anybody else, but that has no place in my fiction. For me, it’s essential that the story feel real, be real, with flesh and blood characters.

In SUFFER THE CHILDREN, you have David, a doctor, as the voice of reason. Can you tell us a little about him and why you chose to have him and how you used him to increase the psychological tension?
I have five major characters in that novel and wanted them to represent a cross section of how people might respond to the world’s children essentially becoming vampires. One parent will do anything and embraces that, another will go beyond but hates himself for it, and another is willing to let them go. David is a man whose own child died long before Herod syndrome claimed the world’s children, so he understands their grief, but he’s also able to think rationally. As a doctor, he has an analytical mind and sees the big picture. In that capacity, he stands in for the rational part of the reader’s mind and provides a foil for the other characters.

You stated in an interview on zombiefiles.com (http://www.zombiephiles.com/zombies-ate-my-brains/tooth-and-nail-interview-with-craig-dilouie) that you are more of an apocalyptic fiction fan than a zombie fiction fan yet you are recognized as a horror writer. What attracts you this genre and why do you mash it with horror?
Tooth-and-Nail12-198x300I like writing fantastic fiction—horror, fantasy, science fiction. The juxtaposition of the fantastic to the normal is fun to write, and there are tons of story possibilities. In particular, I enjoy writing apocalyptic fiction. During a major disaster, the best and worst of humanity are on full display, and there is a sense of zeitgeist—that the world has changed forever, and this is the new world. Think 9/11 on a global scale. People’s identities and morals are thoroughly tested. You can put your characters through the wringer and really find out what they’re made of, who they are. The reader is similarly confronted with choices and consequently learn about themselves. They get the thrill of reading horror—the same instinct that makes people go on roller coasters—which is to face danger (death) and survive the encounter. That being said, I see my zombie fiction as being less in the horror genre and more in the thriller genre.

You have a new novel coming out, and it isn’t horror. What is it and why the departure?
I’m in final negotiations for THE ALCHEMISTS, which is a Renaissance fantasy story. It’s fun, funny, light, romantic and action-packed. Readers will be surprised it’s the same guy who writes the horror stuff. In a way, THE ALCHEMISTS is going back to my roots, as I wrote science fiction for years before I found my way into horror, or more accurately, before that genre found me.

Besides that, I’m developing a series called CRASH DIVE. This is a series of novellas for Kindle about submarine warfare in World War II. It reads like HORNBLOWER in World War II. The first book is out and has done well; I’m working on the second episode. I’m also working on two zombie series with Joe McKinney, Stephen Knight, David Moody and Tim Long. And I’m also collaborating with Jonathan Moon on a poetry collection titled CHILDREN OF GOD. This work is kind of like a found footage film but expressed as poetry. The conceit is that the survivors of a cult—which ended with a mass suicide and massacre—finally find their voice again with poetry therapy, and this book is their poems. In CHILDREN OF GOD, they talk about why they joined the cult, what they hoped and believed, how it went bad, and how it ended. It’s both scary and emotionally powerful.

How was writing THE ALCHEMISTS different from writing horror?
The intensity is different. When you write, you get in the mood. Instead of going to a dark place, I went to a more fun place. I like doing both.

craig dilouieCraig DiLouie is the author of nine novels, notably SUFFER THE CHILDREN, THE RETREAT, THE INFECTION, THE KILLING FLOOR and TOOTH AND NAIL. He has also contributed short fiction to a number of anthologies. Learn more about Craig’s fiction at CraigDiLouie.com.

Craig DiLouie on Why Nice Guys Write Horror

I recently met with critically renowned horror writer Craig DiLouie to talk with him about his work. Craig candidly shares his thoughts in a two part interview. In tomorrow’s interview, he shares his ideas on delivering fear effectively.

The-Infection28-200x300I know you and I know you’re a really nice guy and a good person. Yet, people always wonder if horror writers are really weird or twisted inside. I mean, how can a nice person write such horrifying things?
[laughs] When I tell people I write horror, I sometimes get a confused look. Horror writers, you see, are like serial killers. People say, “He was such a nice, mannered guy. I never suspected he wrote horror.”  What’s a guy like me doing in a genre like this? Well, it’s fun! That, and as a writer of horror, my imagination can truly soar. Good horror breaks boundaries, makes us uncomfortable, asks disturbing questions, makes readers sweat. It’s writing at the cutting edge of human nature. On top of that, after attending numerous horror conventions and being a member of the Horror Writers Association for years, I have to say horror writers are generally nice people. While my writing tastes go beyond horror, I’m proud to be part of that community.

It’s been said that readers want to become somebody else for hours and to face unimaginable terrors. Why do you think we want that experience?
People who seek out horror tend to thrive on exciting experiences. They want to step outside their comfort zone and the confines of their safe, mundane world to get an adrenaline rush by confronting their fears. It’s the same reason thrillers are so popular, why people rubber neck car crashes, why people go on roller coasters. People want to face death (voyeuristically) and experience the catharsis of survival, asking along the way, “What would I do in that situation?”

What are your deepest fears and do you write them into your work?
SuffertheChildren_Cover-200x300I write my greatest fears into all my horror work. At the root is my fear of death and my fear of something bad happening to my family. These are virtually universal fears.

Sometimes, they’re brought to the fore, as in my novel SUFFER THE CHILDREN (Simon & Schuster, 2014). In that novel, a strange disease claims the world’s children before bringing them back to ask for blood. If they receive a steady diet of blood, they can go on surviving. Unfortunately, there’s only so much blood. The children are vampires, but the monsters in the story are the parents who must decide how far they will go to keep their children alive. So this is a story where the operating theme is directly informed by a parent’s love and fears for his or her children. And it asks the reader, how far would you go?

Other times, these fears aren’t part of the operating theme but instead the fabric of the story, as in the case of my apocalyptic fiction. In my opinion, it’s what marks these stories as being emotionally resonant rather than simple entertainment.

Is there ever a point in your writing where you feel you’ve gone too far?
It’s strange that I’ve been asked that in interviews about SUFFER THE CHILDREN, which has very little gore and violence, but not my zombie fiction, which has plenty of gore and violence. What shocked people about that novel was that it forced them to confront uncomfortable truths about human nature and, in some cases, about themselves. Many parents say they’d put their arm in a shredder for their kids, but would they put somebody else’s arm in a shredder? Five people? A hundred? To do that idea justice, and because I was dealing with the subject of children dying, I made a conscious effort on every page not to overplay the sensationalism inherent in the plot for spectacle or cheap shock. Cheap shock and repulsion get attention but would have robbed this story of its authenticity. The story I wanted to tell was one that felt real to the reader. It’s horror, but it’s really a story about parental love the same way Cormac McCarthy’s THE ROAD isn’t a story about the apocalypse, but a father’s struggle to protect his son.

Otherwise, aside from my own sensibilities, I don’t really know what “going too far” means, as that kind of judgment is really up to each individual reader. I applaud any fiction that makes the effort, particularly in horror, as good horror pushes boundaries. If it does that internally rather than through cheap shock, by making the reader confront uncomfortable truths, so much the better. In my view, the best horror holds up a fractured mirror to the human soul.

Of the books you’ve written, which was the most challenging?
SUFFER THE CHILDREN, absolutely. I didn’t so much pour my heart into it as let the novel tear it out of me. I was proud to see it nominated for a Bram Stoker Award and Audie Award.

Who are your favorite characters in your books?
I love all of the characters in my books, and I tend to write the kind of books where a lot of these people suffer or die, so it’s hard to let them go. But in my fiction, their deaths mean something. They may suffer and die, but this either serves a principle or ensure the survival of other characters or the species as a whole.

Your website contains some great reviews. What’s on your current reading list?
I’m currently reading TOUCH by Elmore Leonard, an author I love and who has a secret sauce for dialog and character I’m trying to understand better from a technical point of view. Otherwise, as you can imagine, I tend to read a lot of horror fiction, though I’ve stuffed myself with so much of it in recent years I’ve gotten a bit jaded. One horror novel I read recently I completely enjoyed was KIN by Kealan Patrick Burke. It basically tells the story of a young woman who escapes a rural farm occupied by a family of cannibals and what it’s like for her in the aftermath. It reads like a sequel to THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE. The story has plenty of sensationalism but it’s told with realism and genuine emotional depth. Otherwise, if you’re interested in good horror and apocalyptic stuff, my blog, www.craigdilouie.com, has tons of reviews not only of books but also short films and movies.

craig dilouieCraig DiLouie is the author of nine novels, notably SUFFER THE CHILDREN, THE RETREAT, THE INFECTION, THE KILLING FLOOR and TOOTH AND NAIL. He has also contributed short fiction to a number of anthologies. Learn more about Craig’s fiction at CraigDiLouie.com.