Well, Joseph, we’ve discussed The Idea. The germ is in place. After a bit of story development next comes research. How do you approach research?

Joseph D’Lacey

I usually approach it with a very long, sharp object and give it a quick poke to make sure it’s safe to proceed. It usually isn’t – I’m not very keen on research, I’m afraid. Reminds me too much of being at school. That said, there are some subjects you have to look into if you want to avoid producing badly informed fiction. I usually do most of my research online. How about you?

BH

I start from the basis of my outline – this is really the next subject in our discussion I think – but once I’ve developed a skeleton outline of the story I can extrapolate from that what kind of research is needed. For example, in Through a Glass, Darkly I knew I’d have to research a few areas: metempsychosis so that I could put together a convincing ritual, police work and the life of a Roman Catholic priest. The voodoo stuff I could do online. The police stuff – I went into my local police station and just made a nuisance of myself. Eventually, they decided not to arrest me and were very nice about giving me the info I needed. I think when you’re writing stuff like police procedure in an otherwise fantastical story it pays to be accurate – the realism of the cop stuff will add credibility to the story as a whole – so try to get it right.

JD’L

It’s fascinating to me that you managed to get some time in your local police station without actually committing a crime first. Well done! Apparently, Stephen King did the same when he was researching his novel ‘From a Buick 8′. The only stipulation the police gave him was that he didn’t paint them in a bad light. For MEAT I wanted to get into a slaughterhouse and see what was really going on. But that would have meant lying about why I was there – no meat packer is going to let you in just so you can bad-mouth their business. MEAT, therefore, and everything slaughter-related within it was researched online. Thankfully, plenty of other people have already recorded enough undercover footage for me to have hours of material to work from.

For Garbage Man it was much the same deal. If I’d told a landfill site operator I was writing a novel about the dangers of burying waste, they’d never have let me in. Once again, much of the information came from online research. However, I was lucky enough to meet a few people who worked in the industry and were willing to let slip the realities for me. But what you say about accuracy is very important. I’ve just read ‘Every Dead Thing’. In one scene, two characters go scuba diving in a bayou looking for bodies. The author talks about ‘sucking oxygen’. Divers don’t breathe oxygen – they breathe air. Whilst it was a riveting novel, that inaccuracy pulled me right out of the story. Can’t afford to let that happen knowingly, can we?

BH

Absolutely not. Although I think, in some cases, small slips can be forgiven. I read a great book a few years ago – forgotten the title – about a guy circumnavigating the South Pole. Great research throughout – really convincing. Then I heard that the author had received a letter saying the sailor’s fob watch wouldn’t have been made until 3 years after the story was set. That kind of anally retentive nit picking is unnecessary I think.

JD’L

True, nit picking sucks – and is probably a sign your reader, by firm choice, isn’t invested in the story. But you never know who’s going to read your book. The fact is, we have to draw the line somewhere in terms of the extent of our research efforts. How much time do you think authors should spend on research, Bill?

BH

It’s a crucial question I think. It’s also something that doesn’t seem to be taught that much on writing courses but is, in my opinion, as important to a working writer as style, pace, dialogue etc. I really enjoy research and consequently, in the early days of TAGD, I made some big mistakes. I spent 3 weeks researching the witch trials of the 17th Century for example. Totally unnecessary for the story – but I just got caught up in it.

I think a writer needs to set strict parameters as to how much time he will set by to research his subject. For a working writer time is money.

JD’L

Yes, and there’s always the danger you’ll do research instead of writing. To my mind, that’s a bad thing. After all, for many writers, getting to their desk in the morning and staying there until they hit quota is hard enough. It’s all too simple to say you’re doing research and then spend a few months messing around and stuffing your head with trivia you’ll probably never use. I like to feel I have enough information not only to lend credence to the story but also to fully immerse me in an idea. Then a bit of atmosphere begins to leak from the fact into the fiction. Beyond that, I’m probably just wasting time.

BH

Spot on – writers generally will do anything to avoid actually writing. Doing research is the most legitimate excuse you can come up with. Having said that, I think research is very important, and not just sitting in a library browsing dusty old tomes and stuff. If your story is set in a specific place, do your best to visit it. The Absence has a millhouse as its setting and I spent 2 days just walking around Lincolnshire watermills, breathing in the atmosphere. This is a kind of tactile research – touching the brickwork, smelling the damp air. It all ends up on the page somewhere and adds something to the reality of the story.

JD’L

I love it that you took time to become part of that landscape, Bill. I don’t think I’ve ever intentionally done that for the sake of fiction. Not yet. Many a time, a place I’m familiar with will crop up but that doesn’t count. I think this must be how you pack so much mood into your fiction and I think it’s something all your reviewers and readers have been struck by. On the subject of ‘how much research?’ I’m far more likely to do too little. A lot of the time, I really feel the urgency to just write the story.

Smaller aspects of accuracy can always be ironed out as part of the editing process. If you’re burning up with a story, use the energy to get the bones on the page. Let’s face it, you can do research any time up to your deadline, right?

Let me ask you this, have you ever picked a subject that you know will require zero research purely so that you can devote all your time to writing? If not, is it something you’d consider?

BH

I’ve never written something that has required no research at all. In fact, in this regard, I’m a bit of a masochist. Example – I could have made Richard Nightingale – one of the central characters in The Absence – a solicitor. I thought about it. I used to be a solicitor and I know that world. But I’m bored rigid by that environment (probably why I left it!) and I’m interested in other people and their lives. So I made him an art dealer and set about researching that. It’s time consuming – it slows me down – but I get a kinda kick out of research and always feel a bit richer when a book is finished and I’ve caught a glimpse of another life.

I’m also very paranoid about getting things wrong – another reason I probably still spend too much time on research!

JD’L

Again, it’s different for me. I’m tempted to write without the need for research and I often do in short fiction. I love the feeling of a story coming entirely from the imagination – perhaps that’s one of the reasons I love to write. And, when I read a good story that is very obviously pure fantasy, well-communicated but directly from the mind of the writer, I adore it. I also adore it when I manage the feat myself. To be honest, Bill, I think research frightens me a little. I think it somehow makes me feel I need to be academic when there isn’t an academic bone in my body. I also feel sometimes that it isn’t truly a part of the writing process. What am I saying here? I suppose that, for a fiction writer dealing with real-life subjects, research is a necessary evil.

BH

I agree somewhat. Research isn’t writing but I feel that, certainly in the longer form, research is important. I think you’ve got to treat it as a practical thing – as vital in its way as buying paper and ink cartridges. Without it I don’t think I could write. Maybe I treat research as a safety blanket to wrap around myself before I start writing. I’ve said in interviews that I don’t believe in writer’s block – never had it – nor do I believe in the tyranny of the blank page. I think I’ve never had these problems because, before I start, I have my outline and my research. It gives me the confidence to get on with the job of writing.

That aside, can I suggest one very practical research tip?

JD’L

Please do.

BH

Be nice to people.

JD’L

That’s imperative. No one’s going to share with you otherwise, right?

BH

Absolutely – it sounds obvious but it’s something I’ve seen writers and researchers in general get sooo wrong. They go into police stations or wherever and start demanding to be seen or dropping off questionnaires without putting together a polite note first. If you need some piece of info, 9 times out of 10 you’ll get it if you ask politely. I’ve got a great relationship with the librarians at my local library. I’ve nurtured it for 10 years. I’ll go in and chat to them – genuinely because they’re lovely people. But they go beyond the call of duty for me because we get on. I can even call them up and ask them to check a fact for me and they call back.

I had a similar experience recently with a company that builds wind turbines. I needed info for book 3 so I met up with them at a local event and gave them some free books and chatted nicely – hey presto – I got a contact with the managing director. So be nice, folks!

JD’L

This is excellent advice, mate. You know what? You’ve enthused me. You’ve turned me around. I may pick a subject that requires loads of interaction with loads of people in pursuit of the facts for my next work. I know that’s coming off flippant, but I really mean it. I can see an idea forming already…Ah, research! Why was I ever so worried about it?

BH

Don’t, Joseph, this way madness lies!

JD’L

Too late! It’s a book about voluntary euthanasia. There’ll be no online research for me. This time, I’m going to roll my sleeves up and get involved!

Check out the full review at the website.

I’ve been reading quite a bit of YA (Young Adult) fiction over the past few months. I’ve gobbled down all of Darren Shan’s Demonata series (great fun and bloody scary in places – check out the family torture scene in Lord Loss. Reads like Saw for kids!); Anthony Horowitz’s Power of Five saga (Book One – Ravens Gate – reminded me a lot of that brilliant BBC Children’s TV series Century Falls crossed with Dennis Wheatley); Linda Buckley-Archer’s Gideon the Cutpurse and FE Higgins’ The Black Book of Secrets. All of these have shown the remarkable imagination and skill on display in modern children’s fiction. By far the best of the crop, however, has been Breathe: a ghost story by Cliff McNish.

Briefly, Breathe is about Jack, a young asthmatic boy grieving over the death of his father. Hoping to help her son come to terms with the loss, Jack’s mother moves them to an old house full of memories. Jack is what is known in the dark fiction trade as a touch-know: someone who can pick up on the vibrations of the past by touch. As Jack and his mother arrive at the house they are watched by the ghost children who have been trapped here for years. Soon Jack will encounter their captor – a tortured figure known only as the Ghost Mother.

This is creepy stuff. McNish has written one of the purest ghost stories I have ever read. In a sense, this is MR James for kids – spellbinding, ethereal, with a pitch-black tone. There really has been nothing like it for years. In those YA novels I mentioned earlier, the horror of demons and Lovecraftian gods is fantastical but, in a sense, tangible. What Jack encounters in Breathe is a menace made all the more frightening by the fact that it can’t really be seen or touched. Also impressive is the fact that, by turns, we find ourselves sympathising with, and then abhorring, the villain of the piece. One moment she is tugging at our heartstrings, the next we are terrified by her inhumanity. Such complex characterisation in a children’s book is a rare and wonderful thing.

I’m not going to say much more. I don’t want to spoil this for you. But, oh, the Ghost Mother’s kiss! And the horror of the Nightmare Passage! Breathe is not only a cracking story, with brilliantly inventive and realised fantasy concepts, but a book that has real heart. Buy it and enjoy. 

Her titles include The Taken (‘Her writing is full of dread and passion’, Christopher Golden) and Breeding Ground (‘… beautifully wrought by an author with an unflinching eye and a steady hand. This is scary stuff’, Creature Feature). Seek Sarah out at her website… 

BILL HUSSEY:     So, Sarah, it seems to me that horror writers, perhaps more than any other genre practitioners, are heavily influenced by their early exposure to the form. What are your earliest memories of horror fiction?

SARAH PINBOROUGH:      When I was at boarding school there were lots of tatty 70s Pan style horror anthologies on the shelves of the boarding house and I read a lot of those. My first real horror memory though, and I do think this really did unlock that part of my imagination, was of going to see Dracula as a school play when I was five…

SP (cont.):      I was at an American School in Damascus and it was probably a pretty average High School play, but all I remember is seeing French windows blowing open, a red light glowing, and a shadowy man on the other side spreading his cloak wide. I don’t remember a single thing else from the play apart from that image, but I didn’t sleep with a window open from then until I was about 22. Honest. I was completely terrified. Admittedly, it still doesn’t take much to scare me..I watched the Doctor Who episode ‘Blink’ last year and had to sleep with the hall light on.

BH:      Which new writers push your horror button?

SP:       I have to give it up for the girls here, I think. Alexandra Sokoloff and Sarah Langan both rock. Also, although he’s not really a “new” writer per se, Mark Samuels’ collection really blew me away as did Paul Meloy’s ‘Islington Crocodiles.’ If I’m honest, as a reader I prefer horror in short story form rather than novels. Which is odd, because I find writing short stories really, really hard.

BH:      How did you start writing, and did you begin with dark fiction?

SP:       I started writing- like most people that grow up to be writers -at some ridiculously young age and spent my teens churning out 40 pages or so of various ‘other book’ rip-offs. I took creative writing as a module of my English degree but my late-teens and early-twenties were far too exciting to really do any writing (I think I wrote maybe for or five bad short stories in that time) and then when I hit about 28 I started having a go at short stories more seriously. I always veered towards dark fiction (whether horror, sci-fi or fantasy) because I’d grown up on a diet of King and Herbert who I devoured – much the same as any other horror fan of my age, and I was always scared of what might be behind the shower curtain or what might come in through the open window…and in my imagination they were rarely ordinary burglars or murderers!

BH:      Give us an outline of your typical writing day.

SP:       My writing day has changed since I’ve started my year out of teaching. I used to get up at half-five and do an hour before school, then try and do a thousand words in the evening. This wasn’t always successful!! Now, I get up about 8, grab a cup of tea, check my emails and potter till about 8.45. Then I’ll do 2 hours writing before going to the gym, walking the dog and then back for lunch and 2 more hours. I might do more in the evening or plan out where I’m going next with the story etc. I’m still finding my full-time feet really. But ideally, I am at 2,000 words a day. Sometimes its more, and sometimes life gets in the way and its less. But if I do less I try and make it up the next day.

BH:      How important do you think discipline is for a successful writer?

SP:       If you mean successful as in making a career out of writing then discipline, along with a thick skin, is about the most important thing. I’d put it above talent in many ways. If you sit around waiting for a muse to tap on your shoulder, then you can sit around for an awfully long time, especially as writing is hard work and there are always more interesting things to do, like drink tea, make toast, watch rubbish TV. There are days when the words just flow, and there are others when it’s like drawing teeth and I seem to be constantly checking my word count to see if I’m nearly at 2,000 words. There are a lot of people that ‘talk’ about being writers. Writers write. End of. And that takes discipline. But its like most jobs, once you sit down and get started it’s never so bad.

BH:      Joseph and I have recently blogged about ‘The Idea’. I know from my own experience how irritating it is to be asked this question, but I’m going to pose it anyway: where do you get your ideas? 

SP:       God knows. Can anybody answer this one? The only thing I would say about it, is that the more you write, the more you train your mind to keep an eye and ear open for ‘interesting’ things, either on the news, or something you overhear etc. I constantly jot things down that I may never use, but they always come in handy for pushing the ‘what if..’ button in my head when someone emails and asks for a short story or something.

BH:      Do you plan your novels out before you start writing or do you begin with the germ of an idea and see where it takes you?

SP:       Unfortunately, I’m at the stage in my career where you have to plan them out to some degree, because the publisher wants to know what they’re paying you for. I’ve always been a bit of a planner in that I know where I’m starting and where I’m ending and the rest is normally a lot of squiggled notes with question marks next to them that get added to or crossed off as I go. Now that I have to submit outlines, I try and stay close to them. Feeding Ground is so far on plan, although when I wrote Tower Hill, my editor emailed me to say they were doing the cover art, and were there any changes he should know about. I said, no, very casually, then went back to the outline that I hadn’t looked at in months to discover that a) the book was no longer set in the UK but in America b) half the characters had changed completely and c) there were no aliens…..

My editor was slightly apoplectic but luckily was very happy with the final book…phew…I now keep the outline close by when I’m writing! 

BH:      I would say that one of your strengths as a writer is your ability to write a well-rounded, multi-layered character. It certainly adds to the horror when something nasty happens to a character that we have come to care about. How do you go about building up a character?

SP:       Honestly? I don’t really think about it. I have a vague idea of what they’re like when I start out, probably more so now that I write to a one or two page plan so I can see where they’re ending up, but I just see where it goes..One of the characters in Feeding Ground just became gay. I mean, he didn’t just leap out of the closet or anything, but I suddenly realised that it made perfect sense for him and the way he felt about another character. I just let them be themselves and see where that goes. I know some people spend ages sketching out their characters and creating character files etc or collages, but frankly I’m too lazy for that. I just ‘see’ them in my head, chuck them into a situation and see what happens.

BH:      Ghost stories are often a metaphor for the sins of the past coming back to haunt the present. This is certainly the case in your excellent novel ‘The Taken’. I’ve also noticed the themes of collective guilt and folklore running through your work. Is this correct, and what other themes do you notice cropping up in your writing?

SP:       I think there are also a lot of ‘loss of innocence’ or the power of your childhood themes in some of my books. I hadn’t even realised it until a reader mentioned it in a forum. The Reckoning is about how the events of our childhood shape our future – even if our understanding of them is skewed. The Hidden has a damaged child grown into a damaged adult, The Taken has a ghostly child, and even in Breeding Ground a little girl dies quite nastily.  I think though, that using children in horror is pretty commonplace – we’re most afraid of the supernatural when we’re children so it makes it easy to tap into that if you can take the reader back through the eyes of a young character. Guilt and folklore too, yes. I think that in the main (and I exclude Breeding Ground and Feeding Ground from this because I intended both those to be just a good fun, slightly squeamish creature feature romp) I like to have some mystery at the heart of the story. I don’t think horror is enough in itself.

BH:      Your books have a variety of settings. You seem equally comfortable in the rural England of ‘The Taken’ as in the New England small town of ‘Tower Hill’? How do you go about researching books set in foreign locales?

SP:       My editor did freak when he realised I’d set Tower Hill in America and it took a lot of convincing to let me run with it. I had to promise him that I’d let Chris Golden scan it for any dodgy non-americanisms. And I can understand his concern, but I think that in the UK we’re so over-dosed with American TV and movies, on top of the books that I read that are predominantly set in America that it makes it easy for us to slip into their  writing style. Probably much easier than for an American writer trying to set a story in the UK with British characters. Also, there is the beauty of the internet for researching store names and food brands etc. I think I did okay..But my next few books are all planned to be set in the UK. Unless I feel inspired during my 6 weeks in North Carolina in the New Year.

BH:      What demands are made on English writers writing for a US market? Keeping your American reader in mind, have you ever needed to adapt/change something so that it is more US-friendly?

SP:       When I first started writing I didn’t think about it at all, but now, if I’m writing for Leisure I might think about the odd phrase and whether Americans are going to get it. They change ‘gots’ to ‘gottens’ which I’m never sure about because I think it then jars slightly if the rest of the book is very English. I used the phrase ‘This is a turn up for the books’ once..that totally flummoxed them. I don’t think about it too much, though. Feeding Ground takes places mainly in a Newham estate in London with a lot of very East End gansta types. There’s only so much you can change their speech patterns without making it sound stupid. Although I am rather concerned that while writing the book I’ve watched all five series of The Wire, so they may sound a little more Baltimore than Newham in places! You feel me?

BH:      We’ve spoken before about the misconception many people have about published novelists. They think that when you get a publishing deal you can chuck in your job and devote yourself to writing. The reality is most published writers need to work and write. I know that you’ve recently gone ‘full time’. Was that a difficult decision to make? What sacrifices and what freedoms does such a step entail?

SP:       I don’t even think of it as full-time… more a sabbatical. I saved up, marked a lot of exams papers, signed up for some writing for hire, and more importantly made sure I had ‘a plan.’ A lot of writers don’t have career plans, but I figure if you don’t have a good idea of where you want to get to, it’s too easy to get distracted. Luckily, it seems my plan is working out..for now. It’s great that I now have time to see my friends and have more of a social life etc, but it is very strange with writing now my actual job. I miss the salary coming in, but since going full time (Aug) I’ve written a Torchwood novel and I’m over half-way through Feeding Ground. I’d never have got so much done with teaching as well. It’s great having nothing else to think about but story etc, but it’s also strange stepping outside of the normal world. I’m enjoying it, but I’m sure that I’ll have to go back to doing occassional supply at some point!

BH:      You’re a female writer working in a genre that many ‘outsiders’ would imagine to be pretty male dominated. My own opinion is that this is something of a misrepresentation of horror – we’ve got brilliant female horror writers like Shirley Jackson and, more recently, Sarah Langan. What have been your experiences when you tell people you write horror?

SP:       It’s quite strange, I very rarely tell people I write at all. If people ask me what I do, I tell them I’m a teacher. I don’t know why, but talking about writing with people outside the community brings me out in hives. I suppose its because it’s a bit like talking about your feelings to people that matter to you, and I just don’t do that either! I blame something in my childhood..;-). However, if it does come up in conversation with relative strangers then they normally look shocked and ask why I’m not writing chick lit. I smile sweetly and then lace their drink with crushed glass..they don’t ask again..

Seriously, I think it says more about how horror is perceived than women. Horror’s booming in the cinema, but less so in books.

BH:      Horror has had a bit of a rough ride over the past few years. Many are now saying that we are on the cusp of a renaissance in the form, especially with new UK imprints coming out all the time. What are your thoughts?

SP:       I think things are looking positive, but it’s still early days. I’m sure horror will have it’s day again, and I think with the global recession horror is more likely to fill up a little more space on the book shelves, but I think we’re a long way from the glory days of the eighties and nineties. But we’ll see! Things are looking up a bit, and lets hope they keep going in that direction.

BH:      Writers these days have to do so much more than simply get a publishing deal. I know you are heavily involved in promoting your books at fantasy conventions etc. Do you enjoy the actual business side of writing?

SP:       Actually, I’m completely rubbish at promoting my books. I tend to go to conventions and not talk about writing at all, but focus instead on meeting people who may then, when everyone’s home and settled, lead into some possible work. I hate the business side of writing, but then I think that’s a British thing. We pour scorn on people that say ‘I’ve worked really hard on this and I think it’s brill. You should too!’ I think all Brits should go to an American convention to see how celebratory they are of their work and how they’re not ashamed to self-promote. It’s a tough business, publishing, and if you don’t push yourself then no one else will. But I prefer the softly, softly approach of just making contacts and friends and then seeing where they will lead rather than sticking an A-board on and saying ‘Read my Book!’. However, that’s not to say the second way is wrong. It’s just not in my make-up.

BH:      Tell us something about your future projects.

SP:       I’ve got a novella coming out from PS Publishing in July called ‘The Language of Dying’ which isn’t a horror story – more magical realism, and is the closest to ‘literature’ that I’ve ever written. ‘Feeding Ground’ is out in October, and my agent is just finalising a three book supernatural thriller trilogy deal with on of the UK’s leading publishing houses – which is a massive step up for me and I’m very excited about it. I’ve also just given my agent a children’s fantasy novel, so I’m hoping that she sells that too. I’d like to write one adult novel and one children’s novel a year, ideally. But that could still be a long way off…

BH:      There are a lot of writers out there trying to get a publishing deal. What single piece of advice would you give them?

SP:       Learn to take criticism and develop a thick skin. This business is all about constantly being told you’re not good enough. Number one: you have to believe you are, or will be, good enough. Number two: a rejection (or in fact a bad review)is professional – nothing worse than a writer who takes it personally. Number three: if enough rejections make the same criticisms of your work then take them on board. Don’t be too proud to change your manuscript. It might make it better.

Oh – and if you’re writing for the money, then get out now. You have to be writing because the idea of not writing doesn’t compute.

BH:      Okay, stock Horror Reanimated question time: it is within your power to award the Sword of Ultimate Darkness to one piece of outstanding horror fiction, be it film, TV, a book or short story.

SP:       The Mist by Stephen King. Not the film with crass ending but the original novella.

BH:      Now you must consign the worst example of horror you have ever come across to the accursed Plague Pits where it will fester for all eternity!  

SP:       Now this is where I get shot down in flames… The Wicker Man. Yes, the original… I’ve watched it four times now because people keep telling me its a classic. It just makes me giggle…

Sorry.

You can see why I’m moving into dark thrillers…

BH:      Sacrilege! I can’t believe I’m about to put the official HR stamp on this application, but Sarah’s the boss. Into the Plague Pits goes… The Wicker Man! (not even the Neil LaBute remake, but the original! G’ah!). I’d like to thank the lovely (and very twisted) Miss Pinborough for taking the time to visit us at HR HQ and we wish her well with her exciting future projects. Don’t forget to keep checking back – other interviews are in the works…

Once again, like Bill, I’d like to talk about ‘mood’ and ‘subtlety’ as key aspects of my latest cover.

I’d like to but I can’t.

Here’s why:

I’d much rather talk about how plain ol’ scary it is!

As previous posts attest, there’s some good, (or potentially good), viewing around for us genre folks thesedays. Not sci-fi, (or is it sf?), or fantasy, but good old horror… or a sub-genre thereof.

Sunday night sees the first Survivors, an updated version of Terry Nation’s post-apocalyptic serial that ran from 1975 to 1978 over three series on the BBC. Here’s an article in The Independent. A poll on the above linked BBC website shows that 24% of respondents are ‘sure they’ll like it’; 51% including myself are ‘cautiously optimistic’; 7% are ‘undecided’; 16% are worried it ‘might not be that great’, and 2% are ‘sure they won’t like it’. If it’s anything as convincing as Apparitions, it’ll be another Sky Plus series linker. Here’s a rather nice fan site concerning original said series from which I purloined the truly terrifying image of mid-seventies crockery.

This Thursday sees the second episode of Apparitions, and judging by last week’s truly atmospheric opener, this is a series to follow for the next five weeks. A serious, subtle and visceral drama indeed. What the BBC need to do now is to release it in a collected form, with extra goodies such as a documentary on exorcism, or a Mark Kermode-ish feature on the sub-genre of possession in the movies, and so on. Here’s hoping the remainder of the series is as successful.

Christmas is coming and I find a magazine subscription is a fine solution. My  mother adores the Country Living that pops through her letterbox every month.  Unfortunately us genre-hounds are slightly less well-catered for; there’s no way we  could pop into WH Smiths and take out a subscription to a PURE horror magazine in  the UK.

I guess there’s SciFiNow which has about 15% horror content – it’s latest issue has a  couple of nice overview articles: The Complete Guide To the Post Apocalpyse,  (obviously inspired by the Survivors series); and a feature purporting to list the  ’greatest scare-fests of all time’. This article covers several sub-genres, (including  Hammer, Zombie, Slasher, Supernatural, Gorenography, etc.), and I can feel a poll  coming up here  on HR in the not too distant future. SciFiNow is okay, if you’re desperate for something to read in the bath, and not bothered about getting it wet, (the magazine that is).

Death Ray magazine has just gone quarterly and their November issue has just hit the shops. Slightly more horror content, 20% I reckon, and the articles are, on the whole, more in-depth than their competitors. The company behind Death Ray, Black Fish Publishing, has recently had an overhaul and we’re led to believe, have some projects simmering – let’s hope one of these is a pure horror title. Maybe they’ll resurrect Shivers, once edited by Frightfest‘s Alan Jones, now possibly floating around in a twilight land… or just plain dead, I’m not sure. (Shivers had 100% horror content, but was a relatively lightweight publication, especially for the money). 

Gorezone is a relatively new UK-based title, that could do with some tweaking; specifically a proof-reader and a more considered layout, (although standards have improved since the first few issues), and an irritating habit of cover-highlighting pretty much every film covered in its 100% horror pages regardless of whether or not it’s a fifty word capsule review or a feature that doesn’t actually focus on said film, but rather another by the same director in an effort to appear up-to-the-minute. Glossy and rammed with space-filling imagery Gorezone has been referred to as “Vogue for horror fans”… Hmmm, extremely questionable, more like The Sport for Horror Fans. I buy it every month as it’s one of those magazines, that if I dropped it in the bath, well, it’d get wet, but I’d still give it a go. Even though it’s not in the same league as its predecessor of the same name, Gorezone has a lot going for it if it could attract a better quality of writer. I sound all high-falutin’ don’t I?

The above are just a few of the ‘genre’ magazines available in the UK, but there ARE three high-quality titles out there that warrant our specific horror-genre-centric attention that I highly recommend, none of which are the newly-redesigned Fangoria. 

The first of these is The Dark Side, edited by Allan Bryce; the title has been going for about 15 years, and is a wonderfully glossy and personal  magazine packed full of  relatively well-written, opinionated articles and review  columns. In the past, there  has been some controversy about the sources of some  of the content in the  magazine, but hopefully this is in the past and shouldn’t  influence a decision on  whether or not to subscribe. For me, the magazine’s appeal  lies in its close  relationship with its readers and the obscure DVDs it revels in  reviewing and the  lovely ladies of horror it never fails to showcase. You can’t buy The Dark Side in  WH Smith anymore, but bizarrely it is available in some of the larger Zavvi  stores…

 Now in its 14th issue, Horrorhound is first and foremost a horror geek’s title, covering all aspects of the blood red pop-ulture; thus expect in-depth coverage of a classic horror film and all related merchandise each issue. The latest issue features The Exorcist. The exquisite Dark Night of the Scarecrow is revisited prior to its DVD release, and there’s the latest in their Video Invasion series, which lovingly details the major video labels of the 1980s – this issue Gorgon Video, responsible for the controversial Faces of Death series – was that crocodile attack real? What about those car crash victims? I clearly remember feeling a little queasy watching the tourists slice off that monkey’s head and eating its brains… ah, such sweet reminiscence of a healthy childhood. Horrorhound is US-based, and only available via its website, or in specialist shops such as Forbidden Planet here in the UK.

The third title not to be missed is Rue Morgue magazine, from Canada.  Bill’s mentioned RM in passing a couple of weeks ago, so I won’t duplicate  his recommendation, just give you a piccy of the latest issue, and to say it’s  available from its website and a subscription is extremely good value,  (although each issue does take a very long time to arrive). Again, you can  track it down in Forbidden Planet etc.

Put these three magazines together and you’ve got a nice and comprehensive  approach to all that is horror – the past, the present and the future. But I  can’t help thinking there’s room for a UK-based title here, albeit one that will  require an international outlook and appeal. 

By the way, do feel free to get in touch if you need a link to the estimable Country Living. An aspirational title that is recommended unreservedly by my mother.

Oh, and talking about zombies… given all the fun and games in the finacial world, (you know, those experts who have put the Western world on the verge of a fiscal apocalypse), here’s a Reuters blogger on the new meaning of the word zombie. According to Forbes Digital’s online financial dictionary Investopedia, zombies are companies that:

“continue to operate even though they are insolvent or near bankruptcy. Most analysts expect zombie companies to be unable to meet their financial obligations.”

Quite a long way from its Voodon origins, eh? Financial obligations my arse. Leave our zombies alone! I’ll say it once more – WHAT A BUNCH OF FRICKIN BANKERS.

The Professor (who definitely has more horror magazines to read in the  bath than you, and who promises to feature digital stuff next time).

Today I’m at home with mini me while her mum is out at work. Tomorrow, the role-reversal reverses and I’m out at work.Every time I sit down to make corrections into my proof copy of The Garbage Man a household management task springs into focus – wash the clothes, change a nappy, put clothes in the dryer, clean the house, iron the shirts, wash up, sterilise the feeding bottles, put baby down for nap, pick baby up, put baby down, pick baby up, put baby down, pick baby up, weep (me, not the baby), change nappy, feed baby, put baby down, worry about the dusting…

Bill and I have set a loose deadline of 27^th November to complete the corrections by. We’ll be in London that day meeting the Bloody Books team to discuss our Spring ’09 launch strategies.

If I do manage this editing feat – and it seems unlikely because the proof is full of my own stupid errors – I’m sure the copy I hand in will be stained with baby puke, fabric softener and tears of frustration. I only hope they’ll still be able to read it.

Most of the time being a writer really isn’t very exciting.

Sounds like intriguing, exciting stuff! And, although I’ve yet to be convinced by Shaw in any role except for that of Cecil Rhodes, a part he played brilliantly in the late ’90s, I’m looking forward to this series. Joe Ahearne has an excellent genre pedigree. Apart from anything else, how great is it to see a new supernatural series on the Beeb? I thought they’d given up after messing about shamessly with the excellent Sea of Souls. One thing strikes me, however, and tempers my enthusiasm: why haven’t I seen any trailers? Why have the Beeb not given Apparitions its own web presence? Maybe I’ve missed all the hype – I have had my head down editing – but I’m hoping that the apparent lack of advertising etc simply means that it has all just passed me by. I think I’m right in saying that the Beeb were so impressed with the show that the original plan for a two-parter was expanded to six, so that at least bodes well.

Anway, good old Sky+ is series linked in anticipation of something special…

As evidenced by his and Jessica Stevenson’s superlative sitcom Spaced, Pegg is a geek of many colours; a lover of comic books and Playstation games, horror and sci-fi movies (just don’t mention those Star Wars prequels! Even though long-time collaborator Peter Serafinowicz provided the voice for Darth Maul, Pegg is not exactly a fan of ‘Vader: the early years’). Pegg’s passion for zombie films is obvious from his work on the lovingly-crafted homage that is Shaun. I’ll never forget laughing like a nitrous oxide doped hyena during the scene in which Nick Frost’s Ed shouts down the phone ‘We’re coming to get you, Barbara!’ – a wicked little Romero in-joke. Pegg has also written a cover quote for Max Brooks’ excellent zombie holocaust novel World War Z . I was interested, then, to read his take on Dead Set.   

I won’t reprint Pegg’s views here but let’s just say he liked Charlie Brooker’s series. Liked it to the point of loving it. What stuck in Pegg’s craw was the fact that, as with many recent takes on the zombie mythos, these shambling cadavers did not… well… shamble. They ran. Not just ran, but belted about like Paula Radcliffe in search of the nearest kerb-side drain. My own view of Dead Set is that it was good – very good – but somehow lacking. I couldn’t quite place my finger on exactly what was wrong with it – Brooker is a brilliant and witty writer – until I read Pegg’s article. The problem was with the running. For a zombie movie, a running corpse destroys so much of what is special about the entire concept . Put simply, shambling = pathos and heart. Read Pegg’s article for a more eloquent explanation of what I mean.

Dead Set didn’t quite work because a primary rule had been broken. That got me thinking. Are there any other monster rules that should never be overthrown? In the article, Pegg states that werewolves shouldn’t fly. I think we can all agree on that, but should our hairy, toothsome friends always be vulnerable to silver bullets? Should they be slaves to the cycles of the moon or be free to transform at will? Can we have werewolves that don’t transform at all, but become hairy only on the inside? Are these facets of the myth so central that to write a story or produce a film without them somehow detracts from the entire exercise? (As a side note, I for one am really looking forward to Benicio Del Toro’s forthcoming Wolf Man, in which all the old rules will surely be obeyed). 

The vampire has a been a prime candidate for rule revision. That’s possibly because there is such an abundance of mythos that has been attached to the creature over the years: the stake through the heart, the trouble with mirrors, the necessity to sleep upon a layer of its native soil, the ability to turn into a bat, a wolf, mist etc, aversion to sunlight, garlic, holy water, the crucifix and, like its hirsute cousin the werewolf, silver. In some legends we have the vampire unable to cross running water or to enter a house uninvited. Sometimes he’s obsessive-compulsive when it comes to counting pebbles or grains of rice. Occasionally he doesn’t even have fangs and seems to have forgotten his lust for blood. Lots of these bits and pieces have been discarded, adapted and even added to by writers. But again I ask, are there some elements of the vampire myth that should never be tampered with? I remember watching some Eddie Izzard stand-up a few years back in which the comic was appalled by the fact that, in Francis Ford Coppola’s take on Dracula, the Count was allowed to roam around in daylight. Actually Bram Stoker does allow Dracula to walk about during the day, but in the public consciousness, as well as in most pre-Stoker myths, the vampire is vulnerable to sunlight. Although I’m an atheist through-and-through, I’m also a little dismayed by this modern trend of having vampires sneering at the cross and idly tossing crucifixes into corners. It’s always struck me that a creature so encompassed by death should be a little afraid of the possibility of judgment and damnation. As I say, I’m an atheist, and that possibility still scares the be-jesus out of me!

So, over to you: any vampire/werewolf/zombie rules you think ought to be sacrosanct? What other monsters have inviolable rules? Most importantly, should zombies run?

There’s no doubt that Stephen King has affected the writer in me. But he affected the reader in me first.

I wanted to share a few thoughts on which of his works have impressed me the most. I use the word impressed very deliberately. It’s only those tales that psychically ‘pushed into’ me I’m going to talk about, those works whose touch is still upon me. It would be very easy for me to go and pick some of them off my shelf or call them up online to refresh my memory but that would be cheating. I want to comment only what remains with me after all these years.

I was about 13 when I discovered Stephen King. I read his work with commitment and loyalty for many years. The novel I loved the most was The Stand. There was a tale to get lost in if ever such was written. Not only that, aged 14 or 15 by that time, I truly believed the end of the world was coming one way or another. The world in The Stand was therefore all the more real for me to enter and dwell in.

Yet, it wasn’t usually Stephen King’s novels that truly affected me. It’s my belief this gentleman of fiction is primarily an extraordinary craftsman of the short story and it is in those works that I really connected with his imagination – or his connected with mine. Many of his best works were collected in the 1978 anthology Night Shift – in there you can even find one of the seeds that went on to become The Stand; a post viral apocalypse tale called Night Surf.

It was also in Night Shift that I discovered Stephen King didn’t write horror exclusively. He also unearthed incredibly tender tales of the tragedy in human relationships – I’m talking here about The Woman in the Room and The Last Rung on the Ladder, both of which brought tears to my otherwise cynical and jaded adolescent eyes. The most ‘fun’ story in Night Shift was Battleground, a wonderful tale in which a hired assassin confronts a box of animate and very well equipped toy soldiers in his apartment (and comes off poorer for it).

The tales in Night Shift were so imaginative and so varied I never forgot them. It must be rare that an anthology by a single author could have this effect. It’s certainly rare in my case – I can’t name another book like it.

Two other SK works dented me permanently. Again, they weren’t novels but they weren’t really short stories either. However, their effectiveness still proves, to me at least, that he’s a master of the shorter form. First of these was The Long Walk. I’m sure you all know the story but for those who haven’t read it, it’s the tale of an annual ‘marathon’ with 100 male children as the competitors. If you haven’t read this one, get out there and find it. Being a teenage boy when I discovered it galvanised my rebellion against the mindless authoritarianism I faced in school every day.

Finally, and perhaps best of all, was a cross-genre piece by the name of The Mist. Damn, that was one all time classic tale. I read it as the tail-end-charlie in a Kirby McCauley anthology titled Dark Forces and it was the one story in there that really blew me away. Once again, it was the only one I still remember. Needless to say, many of these superb stories have gone on to form the basis for successful feature films.

Did I say impressed? Did I say dented? When it comes to what he did to my imagination, harpooned is a far better word.

But what does really it mean to be influenced? Simply that I tried to write like Stephen King? That I decided to write stories with similar themes and monsters?

I don’t think ‘influence’ can ever be that simple a matter. What happened wasthis: I realised the potential of the imagination – both for the writer and the reader. I understood it was possible to write in different genres and still excel. And my interest in the bizarre was profoundly deepened.

As all writers do, I’ve fantasised about seeing my books on the shelves of bookstores. I’ve hoped – and still do! – that I could make a living writing books. But never in my most intense dreams did I imagine that one day Stephen King would read one of my books and like it enough to give me a quote for the jacket. Never, never, ever.

Thank you, Mr. King.