Thursday 29 September 2011

Horror Stories: What's In The Box?

Iain Rowan has posted a good review of The Shelter over at his blog - when I say a 'good review' I don't mean he liked it (although he did, thank goodness) but that it was an informative and perceptive piece, saying many interesting things about horror fiction. I was particularly struck by this:

Horror fiction often disappoints me, as the suspense and dread rises, but then you see the monster, and...is that it? 


This immediately made me think of Stephen King's wonderful non-fiction book Dance Macabre where he makes a similar point about horror - you throw open the door to reveal the monster and the reader thinks 'A ten foot ant! Yikes quite scary! But I can cope with that... Now a 100ft ant, that would be scary...' But of course, if what was behind the door was a 100ft ant, the reader would be thinking: Scary! But I can cope with that...


The image I have in my own head is of a jack-in-the-box - as a horror author, you better have something good springing out of that box. (And that thought always makes me hum this song, but anyway). 

All of which has got me thinking, what are the different ways horror authors solve this problem? Seems to me it's these:

1. Pretend There Isn't A Problem
Maybe, if you're a really skilled author, and having a really good day, you can still get away with writing a story where the big reveal is basically "Boo! It's a vampire!" Maybe.

2. Monster With A Twist
This one is quite common - vampires that turn into a snake not a bat, zombies that run etc. It can be done well   - vampires have been reinvented scores of times, the most recent high-profile case being Let The Right One In. When it's done well it works - the twist creates a frisson of shock, and allows creatures grown dusty with familiarity to be scary once more. But it's damn hard to do, and one suspects there's more failures than successes. Do it badly, and it's apt to seem to the reader like a cheap gimmick rather than anything they should react to, let alone be scared by.

3. Invent A New Monster
If ghosts, werewolves, vampires, aliens and zombies (and alien zombies) are all seeming too stale, then the best thing to do is invent a new monster, no? The reader can't have a jaded reaction to something they've never encountered before can they?

Well no. But there's little new under the sun. Dance Macabre time again (and if you read or write horror and haven't a well-thumbed copy of this on your bookshelf then you really need to examine your life choices up to this point) - King talks about the books Psycho and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde as werewolf novels. Werewolf novels? 

Yes, because the really scary thing about werewolves isn't the teeth or fur, but the fact that those guys walk around most of the time looking just like you and me. As does Norman Bates when he's not in his dead mother's dress; as does the respectable looking Mister Hyde. The scary thing is they look normal but can change.

So if you want to create a new monster for your story, be careful. In reality, this method is likely to be identical to Number 2.

4. Only Partially Reveal Your Monster
Now we're talking. I do this one quite a lot - letting the reader glimpse the thing out of the corner of their eye, throwing in some choice description but leaving most to the imagination. The idea being, if the unknown is what's scary, keep it a bit unknown. Lovecraft was a master at this - how many of us could really say exactly what Cthulhu looks like?

Be wary though - if done clumsily this approach can seem to the reader to be a cheap trick.

5. Ambiguity #1: Call Into Question Just What The Real Monster Is
Just because you've revealed what everyone thinks the monster is, it doesn't mean they're right. Maybe it's just an aspect of the real Big Bad. Think Ghost Story by Peter Straub which gets all sorts of ghosts and monsters and scary kids roaming around, but they're all just reflections of the real monster... and of ourselves. You can keep the tension tight if the reader is never sure which reveal is the big one.

6. Ambiguity #2: Call Into Question If The Monster Is Even Real 
Another one I really like. What if it's all in the protagonist's head? Isn't that more scary than a monster, in some ways - especially if you're not sure? The obvious example here is The Turn Of The Screw (ghosts are the perfect monster for this type of horror) but it doesn't have to be as overt as that; a lot of horror can be read in this way.

7. Make The Monster Relevant To The Characters
There's tons of good examples of this one, but to pick a familiar one: in The Exorcist the priest has to determine whether the girl is really possessed by a demon, or just faking or suffering some psychological trauma. But here's the turn of this screw: the priest is losing his faith in God. But if the demon is real, if Evil with a capital E is real, then surely Good with a capital G is too? The priest almost wants the demon to be real... (which dovetails nicely with technique 6. above).

8. Don't Have A Monster
Guess what? Horror doesn't need a monster. Horror needs dread, unease, fear; horror needs... well horror. And a good author can generate this without a bogeyman. To end with an example of my own, A Writer's Words in my collection The Other Room has no psycho-killers, no mutants or mummies. What it does have, hopefully, is a creepy sense of unease as an almost existential situation overtakes the main character. And somehow, with this kind of horror story, where there's no monster as such, the reveal can be seamless.

So, fellow horror authors, what do you think? Have I missed any out? In reality of course authors mix and match these approaches to the issue of opening the box, or the door, to reveal what's been lurking.



In other news, I'm taking part in a 'blog hop' running from 24th to 31st October, where I'll be giving away some books and maybe other stuff if I can work something out. (If you aren't sure quite what a 'blog hop' is, like I wasn't, check out this post from Belinda Frisch, which explains it better than I could.)

If you're a fellow horror author (and let's face it, if you've read all of blog post so far there's a good chance you probably are) and want to take part, check out the Coffin Hop webpage.

Monday 26 September 2011

In Defence Of Short Stories #15: Anne Michaud

This week's In Defence Of Short Stories guest post comes courtesy of Anne Michaud, an author of genre short stories, novelettes and novels, some printed and others awaiting publication. She blogs here about her musings & little obsessions, and posts flash fiction every now and then.
 And if you head over to her blog right now (but come back, obviously) you can win a copy of Tattered Souls Volume 2 an excellent looking anthology feature one of Anne's stories. I repeat, head there right now (okay, technically you have until October 3rd).

Anne's post looks at a particular author of short stories who provided early inspiration; one I'm ashamed to say I've never even read. I'm such a fraud.

Take it away Anne...


Anne Michaud, Great Defender of the Short Story


I first fell in love with reading because of Guy de Maupassant’s The Necklace. I was nine, highly impressed by French authors, and had to write a paper on the importance of honesty. I don’t remember the teacher who asked for the homework or even the grade he gave me, but the story, I’ll never forget.

The twist at the end left such a deep mark, I don’t think I’ve experienced such surprise reading anything since. It hooked me to that form of literature, and I seek it in every visit to my house of worship: the bookstore. I buy anthologies and collections in every genre, because I feel for the characters after knowing them after only a couple of pages—and not necessarily throughout the plot, but especially at the end, once the twist is revealed.

It’s been years since I read The Necklace, and dread still tingles the back of my neck whenever I think of Mademoiselle Loisel’s ruined life, and the great lesson that, indeed, honesty is always the best way to go. Was Maupassant a life teacher or a writer, I wonder? He knew how to build suspense, mystery and drama in such a short span.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love novels, but there’s something economical about short stories that is impossible to find in longer works. An urgency, a lack of trivial details, this element of surprise at the end that seems so much more powerful than when implanted into a higher word count.

I’m always disappointed when I read magazines and anthology submission guidelines asking for non-twist endings – what’s the point? Isn’t it an intricate part of short storytelling to shock readers by a clever turn of events? That’s why I love shorter works, to fight back a smile at how the writer was two steps ahead of me, how after reading so many books, there’s still something new I can find on their pages.

As a writer, I approach the short story just as I do a novel, even more carefully since every word weighs so much more. And of course, the final twist is so important, I don’t start writing until the perfect ending comes to me. I have Maupassant to thank for that.

Saturday 24 September 2011

Other Indie Authors Are Available #4

I've read a lot of crap self-published books... or more accurately, I've started to read a lot of crap self-published books, and given up. A few years ago I'd doggedly stick out even the worst book, but given the amount of good stuff out there to be read, I've given up on that approach now. The books below are ones I've started and finished. This, my friends, is the good shit:

These Darkened Streets - Aaron Polson


These Darkened Streets: Collected StoriesThis is a really strong collection of short stories; the kind of 'horror' stories that are about ambiguity and strangeness rather than shock and gore. In many, how much of what has happened is supernatural and how much is just in the narrator's mind is in doubt (particularly as so many of the protagonists are kids). Polson does a great job of collecting together stories with a similar tone and themes, without being repetitious.
Favourite stories in this book for me were: "The World in Rubber, Soft and Malleable" (great, odd, and unique); "The Thing about a Haunting" (nice piece of flash fiction with a killer last line) and "When Megan Could Fly" (with which its surrealism and quiet teenage heartbreak seems influenced by the likes of Haruki Murakami rather than a horror author).

There was the odd weaker story in my opinion, and the occasional place where the prose seemed to drift into cliche; but these are minor quibbles and certainly shouldn't detract anyone who is interested from checking this one out.

Elephant - Jim Breslin

ElephantJim has done a guest blog for me on short stories so I was interested to read what his own were like. Most of the stories in Elephant deal with the everyday life and experiences of 'normal' people, and work towards some quiet epiphany. The influence of Raymond Carver seemed strong, although most of Breslin's characters seem slightly more middle-class and contented. But despite this there are fault-lines in their lives, and these stories expose them with great skill. The writing style is strong and varied, moving between realistic dialogue and poetic imagery easily. It's always a sign of a good writer when you find yourself rereading individual lines of proses because they're so good, and I did that frequently here.

For me, the only slight flaw in the collection as a whole is that maybe the stories are too similar in theme and tone - some of the best stories, like 'Elephant' itself are those where Breslin seemed to expand his technique slightly, adding an nice edge of surrealism to the realism.


Breaths In Winter - Donna Burgess


Breaths in Winter: Three Tales of Ghostly HorrorIt would be pretty patronising for a writer in my lowly position to describe another writer's work as "promising". But that's exactly the word that sprang to mind a lot when I read this mini-collection of three short stories. To be honest I picked it up because it was free and I liked the cover art. What I mean by "promising" is that there's some great things here, but some weaker things to. For example the setting of the first story - a deserted town near Chernobyl is a fantastic setting for a horror author, and vividly realised by Burgess. But then she had to introduce an irradiated two headed wolf into the mix, which seemed to lessen the realism.

That said, the good outweighs the bad here, so certainly don't let me put you off.

Sunday 18 September 2011

The Shelter Is Real...

Exciting news - my new novella, The Shelter, is now available - Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon DESmashwords. To prove it, here's the cover art yet again (bored of it yet?) and blurb:

Cover for 'The Shelter'
It’s a long, drowsy summer at the end of the 1980s, and Alan Dean and three of his friends cross the fields behind their village to look for a rumoured WW2 air raid shelter. Only half believing that it even exists beyond schoolboy gossip, the four boys nevertheless feel an odd tension and unease. And when they do find the shelter, and go down inside it, the strange and horrifying events that follow will test their adolescent friendships to breaking point, and affect the rest of their lives...

A horror novella of 15.5k words, plus an author’s afterword.

The phrase the shelter is real that I've used as the title for this post is one I use repeatedly in the afterword to the book, which describes the inspiration behind the story, and the slightly unusual circumstances behind its composition. 
If you do read The Shelter I'd love to know what you think of it - after having spent the last few weeks editing, proof-reading, and formatting it I'm now in that slightly weird zone where I can't even imagine what it would be like for someone to read it for the first time. This time the feeling is compounded by the somewhat odd nature of how this story came to be written, and the fact that it is a more straightforward and commercial story than I normally write. I'd hope it will still appeal to all of you who've said kind things about The Other Room though.

And regardless it's out now - an achievement I can be proud of. I've had the phrase bouncing around in my head for years, but now it's true in another sense - The Shelter is real.

Saturday 17 September 2011

In Defence of Short Stories #14: Michael A. Kozlowski






Starter: before we get going, you might want to check out this recent post on Alain Gomez's Book Brouhaha blog. It's a link to other blogs about short stories, so well worth checking out prior to reading this week's In Defence of Short Stories defence below.... One of the links is back to here so there's no excuse not to come back for the main course.

Main Course: today's guest, uh, chef is Michael A. Kozlowski, a horror writer, whose short stories are collected in the admirably titled Some Days Suck, Some Days Suck Worse
(Amazon UK | US, B&N, Smashwords). He also has some free stories for you to sample on this page of his site.

He's the first person to mention Jersey Shore while attempting to defend short stories, to the best of my knowledge.

Take it away Mike...


When I first saw this whole “Defence of the Short Story” thing, I thought to myself (mainly because I have not yet figured out how to instill my thoughts into other people’s brains) that I needed to write one of these. So I asked James if I could contribute and then I spent a few weeks starting and stopping and typing and deleting and coming to the realization that I wasn’t sure just where the hell I was going with this.

I’ve always loved short stories; more than novels I would venture. I like the quick pace, the bare bones, the grab you by the scruff off the neck, shake you around a bit and discard you in a shaking, panting heap sort of thrill of the short story. I like to read them and I like to write them.

As, primarily, a horror writer, I am already assaulted with the idea that my genre is often maligned and regularly dismissed as the sub-standard, red-headed stepchild of the “literary” world. The fact that a lot of my work is in short story form which, apparently, makes me the equivalent of a loud, stinky fart on a crowded bus; a few people find me amusing but most…eh, not so much.

I will say that I’m surprised the short story needs defending at all. In a society that has the collective attention span of a fruit fly, you’d think short works would be all the rage. That said, if you look at the way we’re drawn to disasters, self-destructive celebrities and shows like Jersey Shore, you’d figure horror would be a stellar market to be in. But let’s not blame the reader just yet. For that, you can go back and look at the previous posts on this subject and get all kinds of intelligent arguments and information from a number of clever authors.

So just what am I getting at? Well, for a guy who claims to write short stories, you’d think that, whatever it is, I might be finding my way there by now. And I am…I think.

It’s not easy to write a short story. It’s worth saying that it’s not easy to write a novel either, at least one that’s worth reading, but we’re not talking about those right now. You’ll often hear writers talking about “killing their darlings” which is to say, cutting out all the bullshit. And you’ll hear them lament that process as painful but necessary to produce a quality work. In a novel (Oh, look! I guess we are talking about those a bit) that might mean cutting out superfluous information or overly descriptive text or random, wandering sub-plots that don’t really lend to the overall work. Maybe that 100,000 word piece needs to be sliced down to 80,000 or 70,000. That can be quite a task.

Now imagine taking that same story or plot idea (and I don’t mean to imply that every novel could just as easily be a short story; this is for illustration purposes only) and cutting it down to about 5000 words, which is about where you need to be for most short story markets. There’s no room for anything extra in there. Yet, when a short story works (and, as with any piece of art, they don’t always) it’s so beautifully compact that nearly every word and moment sticks with you.

A short story author has to be succinct. He or she has to grab your attention and give you a great pay off all in a short little span of time. A short story might only be as long as a typical novel’s space allotted for a singular character development. Short stories are, in short, hard to write well. There are a number of authors out there, many of whom have posted here before me, who continue to accomplish it, but there are a great many that, I suspect, aren’t very good at managing it. Rather than hone that skill, they revert back to novel length work and use the demise of the short story as an excuse; ironically contributing to that demise.

If the short story is dying as an art form, it’s at least partially because there aren’t many good artists out there. 
They say that if you create a good piece of literature, it will find a home. We could have another discussion about why that may or may not be true but, regardless, it begins with the creation.


Pudding: nice little review of The Other Room over at Novel Opinion - despite the name, they obviously have good taste in short stories too...

Thursday 15 September 2011

Spot The Difference?

Well, The Shelter is almost ready to be released into the wild. Feedback on the trial cover I posted was pretty positive - everyone loved the image, although there were a few people who thought the text could do with more punch. All I've done for now is make it a bit bolder, but kept the font the same. It's the only real continuity with The Other Room cover - I figure if I'm going to change the text I'll do it for both, when I have some proper time to do so. (I originally wanted to make this cover very similar my previous one, by using the same limited palette and 'weird' filter effect. But in this case it just ruined the image.)

The other thing I need to do is get the blurb... sorry 'product description' written. I hate writing blurbs. Any vague skill I have with words seems to go out the window when I write blurbs. So far what I've got is this:


It’s a long, drowsy summer in the 1980s, and Alan Dean and three of his friends cross the fields behind their village to look for a rumoured WW2 air-raid shelter. Only half believing that it even exists beyond schoolboy gossip, the four boys nevertheless feel an odd tension and unease.  And when they do find the shelter, and go down inside it, the strange and horrifying things they encounter will test their adolescent friendships to breaking point, and affect the rest of their lives...
A horror novella of 15.5k words, plus an author’s afterword.


Hmmm.

Saturday 10 September 2011

A Drunken Conversation about Ghost Stories...

I was talking to some of my non-reader friends in the pub the other night (non-readers are people too, apparently) and the somewhat boozy conversation got round to hobbies, and while I don't view it as a 'hobby' I told them about the stories I'd written. It was the first time I'd mentioned the subject to them, and they naturally asked what my stories were about. So I gave them a rough synopsis of the plot of my forthcoming novella The Shelter and a few stories from The Other Room...

"What? You write ghost stories?"

I was a bit taken aback by that shocked "you". Why shouldn't I write ghost stories? I asked what they meant by that comment, and amid the general beer-confusion I got the answer out of them: they wouldn't expect someone like me to believe in ghosts.

Well no. I wouldn't expect that of someone like me either. I can be pretty scathing toward people who believe in mumbo-jumbo, good-luck, or attributing significance to coincidental oddities. I can't stand people who argue by constructing straw-men or from conflicting premises (hello, internet discussion groups!). As well as fiction, my bookshelf comprises of non-fiction works of popular science, philosophy and logic...

So for the record: no, I don't believe that ghosts, or any of the other supernatural gubbins in my stories, actually exist.

I guess this a statement that only horror stories would routinely have to make. For realistic fiction, the question doesn't generally apply. For the other kinds of speculative fiction, fantasy and sci fi, the tendency is for the author to build a whole world - internally consistent but not mimetic. Horror is the only genre which generally strives to create a realistic view of the world, but then introduces a single unrealistic element into that world.

Neither of my drunken companions continued the conversation beyond this point, but if they'd been sober I suspect the natural next question would have been, "Okay, so why do you write ghost stories then, if you don't believe in such things?"

Good question.

There's a somewhat trite assumption that the creations and monsters of horror are just analogies for our real world fears - vampires = fear of sex; zombies = fear of plague; and so on. But I don't believe that equations apply to literature, or that the complexity of a great story can be reduced to a mere binary relationship with a small part of the real world. But removing the over-simplification, there's some truth to the idea that horror fiction plays on what we find disturbing, on things that we find creepy or just, somehow... wrong.

If I look back at the science and philosophy books I proudly displayed as evidence of my rationalism above, I find I'm fascinated by all sorts of oddities, paradoxes where logic seems a flimsy construction. Schordinger's Cat and Hempel's Ravens. Fascinated, and maybe just a little... scared.

And I find this same sense of rationality being more flimsy than we'd like to think in the best horror stories: in Call Of Cthulhu and the elder gods lurking out there somewhere; in The Turn of The Screw and the ambiguity of not knowing whether the ghost is real or not (by which I mean real in the context of the story); in stories as different as The Stand and The Summer People where society and its conventions are shown to be paper-thin; in stories by Ramsey Campbell where even descriptions of the mundane seem to convey a hazy sense of menace...

Capturing that feeling - that's why I write ghost stories. (And thinking up blog posts like this is why I drink beer with my non-reader friends in pubs.)

Am I alone in this - other horror authors, do you believe that the things you write about could actually exist? Or are your views like mine, or somewhere else entirely?

Friday 9 September 2011

It's Competition Time...

One of the readers/writers forums I belong to, and by far the most writer-friendly one, is Bestseller Bound. The site is currently celebrating its first birthday with a give away of books by members - including me! There's about fifteen books up for grabs, of all styles and genres.

To see the full list, and to enter the competition, see one of the participating author blogs below:

Quiet Fury Books
Maria Savva's Blog
Inky Blots