Thursday, June 15, 2017

LGBTQ Horror Month - 2

In continuation to celebrate and recognize LGBTQ Horror Month, our own John Grover.


Winds of Change…
I’ve been a horror fan all of my life- movies, books, comics, games, I love it all. I knew I wanted to write horror the moment I read the classics in school- Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. This was before I had even discovered Stephen King!  I knew from a young age that I wanted to write horror and instill that sense of fear, wonder, delight and rapture in others.
I also realized from a young age that I was different, I was gay and that made reading and writing even more important to me. It meant that I could escape being me and create any world that I wanted. I didn’t have to think about pretending to be straight or avoiding awkward questions until I began to notice that I didn’t read about many characters like me in the horror fiction I loved. There were few if any to speak of in horror movies as well. If they were there they were a victim or repressed or a really deranged person. There weren’t that many that were overtly gay. Sure, you could read between the lines but for the most part, I missed them. I took this as a cue in my own writing.
When I first started to take my writing seriously and try to get published, I avoided writing about any gay characters. All of my characters were straight, or at least they appeared that way. I was under the impression that gay characters wouldn’t sell and that it would hinder my writing career. For a while I was probably right. Everything I had experienced had told me there was no market for this. To that measure, I hid all personal information about myself in my bios. I never told anyone outside of family and close friends that I was gay. Again, I thought it would be the end of my writing. So that was that, I had accepted that horror fiction was a straight world.
Then something happened. I discovered Clive Barker. A gay writer! He wrote about monsters, serial killers, demons, he made movies! He was popular. People loved his work and some of his stories featured gay protagonists like in his Books of Blood. That was the first time that I noticed that gay characters were beginning to creep into mainstream horror and movies.  Stephen King had Tom in his novel Cell. Brian Keene had a lesbian character, in his book The Conqueror Worms, who was nearly seduced and killed by a monstrous siren—how cool is that!
Gay fiction began popping up everywhere with books titled Queer Fear, Triptych of Terror, Night Shadows and more. Gay authors were making themselves known and putting out amazing fiction, which I’m sure they always had but for me this was a great time and my favorite genre was becoming inclusive.  It was a turning point in my own writing and that meant… it was on.
I finally wrote my very first story with gay characters… Majestic. It was the tale of two soldiers who fell in love while facing impossible odds at the hands of supernatural foes. It was never officially published but that didn’t stop me. The floodgates were open. I began to spin out more and more gay-themed tales and was getting them published!
My story A Strange Turn of Events is about a gay man returning home from a one-night stand gets more than he bargained for when he stops to help a woman being hunted by a serial killer. It was published in the anthology Dark Things II published by Pill Hill Press.
Beauty Ritual is about a gay man who faces the ultimate horror- growing older. He turns to extreme measures to avoid this at all costs and keep his younger boyfriend at his side. It was featured in the anthology Ante Mortem by Belfire Press. It has been republished in my newly released collection: Best of Shadow Tales, more info on that later.
The Longing is about a long time gay couple that is once again rejected when they attempt to adopt children. Heartbroken and angry they turn to supernatural means to have the children they have always longed for. Scarlet Galleon Publications published this story in the anthology Dead Harvest.
My tale of a lesbian witch and her partner doing battle with an ancient wraith appears in my co-authored collection Space Stations and Graveyards by Double Dragon Publishing. The story is called The Red Book.
Then there is Just the Three of Them at the End of the World, my gay zombie tale. Three gay friends sharing an apartment in the 80s face the zombie apocalypse together while growing closer and expressing the love they never dared share before. This was published in Library of the Living Dead’s Zombiality anthology.
I was no longer afraid to include gay and lesbian characters in my stories and books, and I would no longer hide who I was as a person and an author.  It was like a Pandora’s box of gay horror had opened and it wasn’t closing anytime soon. Finally, the inclusion of gay characters in fiction began to spill over to TV, comics and games. Shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Teen Wolf, The Vampire Diaries all featured gay characters and storylines, even Supernatural, one of my favorite shows, had gay hunters in one of its seasons. Superheroes were coming out in comic books, you could play as gay characters in video games and other genres were following too, like the Sci-fi show Torchwood, a spinoff from Doctor Who.
Even in social media I’ve seen fellow authors asking for advice on writing gay and lesbian characters with many sincere replies on keeping the characters true to themselves and true to the writing. It has been great to see such a huge shift in today’s fiction and art and to log into social media and see readers and writers who are actually craving more of this. Things have come a long way since I first made the decision to write a creepy story for a school assignment and I have many more stories, with both gay and straight characters, just waiting to come out. Wink-wink. I can think of no better time to write these tales than now.  I’m proud of where I’ve come from and who I am and both have made my fiction what it is today.
Check out my work on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords. My most recent release is called Best of Shadow Tales, named after my own website/imprint, it is a collection of twenty of my previously published works of horror and dark fantasy.
Visit me at the links below for more information on any of my titles.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

June - LGBTQ Month

Like we did for Women in Horror Month, we're going to celebrate LGBTQ month with some guest blog posts from our members, Remy Flagg, John Grover and Larissa Glasser.

First entry is from Remy Flagg.

June is when our flag waves its hardest. Rainbows: suspended in the windows of small businesses while parades fill the street blaring Lady Gaga, Cher and Madonna. In every major city (and many smaller cities) June represents a chance to step out of the safety of our bubbles and shout, "I am here." From coast to coast, June is our month of pride.
Yes. I am gay.

This is the first time I've written this statement in conjunction with being an author. I have been out and open about my sexual orientation since I turned sixteen. Growing up in the backwoods of Maine, differences were tolerated as long as they were done quietly, discreetly, and didn't stray too far from the norm. Despite being likable, even popular, it became apparent that I was different than my peers, and thus began an emotional isolation.

At the same time I was coming to grips with my deviance in the setting of a small town, I found myself lost in a world of literature. Favoring the works of R.A. Salvatore, Mercedes Lackey, and Neal Stephenson, I became a sidekick to rogue heroes carving out a place for themselves in a cruel world. Frequently in Lackey's work, elves presented a sexual ambiguity that gave me just enough hope. Somebody knew I existed. Later, I would be introduced to Lynn Flewelling's Nightrunner series where the love and sexual tension between two male characters had me on the edge of my seat as they sorted through complex emotions, identity, and the ramifications of society's displeasure.

These characters imagined by authors reminded me I wasn't alone.

While standing in Borders, a friend placed a book in my hands that would change my life. Having read the back, he purchased it and while we enjoyed crappy coffee, he started reading. Within pages he found himself revolted at the contents and said, "It's yours." Only a few pages in, filled with detailed violence and visual gore, I understood why he rejected the novel. A fan of horror movies, I was more enticed than sickened. The language was as beautiful as the scene was horrific. I found myself captivated by the grotesque.

Exquisite Corpse, a masterpiece penned by Poppy Z Brite spoke to my angst. Her characters were broken, each driven and consumed by a fundamental flaw. Other than the rare appearance of a gay character on an HBO show, they served as my connection to a piece of my identity I didn't have the vocabulary to explore. Despite the brutality she described, there was a sense of duty about her characters, even if it did involve cannibalism. Under the shitty hand life dealt them, conflicting emotions developed a layer of complexity, depicting their sexuality as more than right and wrong. They were real, and for a gay teen growing up in an environment where gay still meant jolly, it was enough.

I devoured everything Brite wrote. When we had access to the internet, I researched what I could. An article explained the Z as being a "third gender," and she identified as a gay male trapped in the body of a woman. Completely unaware of the existence of transgender individuals in my youth, he was my first. He introduced me to the scary, often morally ambiguous world in which virtuous absolutes are seldom applicable. Contained within these captivating and frightening arrangements of words, Poppy Z. Brite showed me a guy can love another guy and that it is indeed, a fucked up rollercoaster of a ride.

It doesn't take knowing me for long before my sexual orientation and preference for bears is made abundantly clear. My writing group has met a boyfriend or two and my memoir, I.Am.Maine: Stories of Small Town Maine speaks of growing up gay in a small rural town. And yet, despite this openness, I have been reluctant to declare my sexuality within my author platform or within the context of my writing. I am willing to be the, "sarcastic author," the "cyberpunk author," the "zombie author," or the "superhero author," but fear has clenched my chest when I ponder being the "gay author."

My first foray into horror, Suburban Zombie High pitted a group of unlucky teen clich├ęs against a relentless hoard of undead. Setting the stage for comedy, my only LGBTQ+ character is Victor, a teenage soon-to-be military recruit who is wrestling not with his sexuality, but with feelings of intense devotion to a superior officer. Despite the book being directed at young adults and poking fun at the horror genre, Victor is a variation of my teen self. He has emotions he can't quite put into words, and only when another character comments on him being gay do the elements align. Victor is this idea that a masculine man, in a situation where heterosexuality is the norm, can be gay, and campy all while being accepted.

My first experiment with an LGBT+ character provided humor, comic relief, and in many ways reflected myself. But as part of an ensemble cast, his story only scratched the surface, dealing mostly with his coming out process. While this would have been a relief to read as a young reader, I still found myself dodging the desire to make my protagonist a gay male. Fear of having my early career pigeon holed or worse yet, rejected entirely, hovered over my shoulder. Then I found horror.

I've had the opportunity to mingle with many horror writers since I started this journey. While my love of horror is predominantly in film, these authors had no issue welcoming an unknown author. These authors, who write about physical, psychological, and societal trauma, have been a safe harbor while determining how I wanted to proceed and expand upon my identity. Rarely do they make assumptions and more often than not, I've watched them rally to defend silenced minorities. While I've seen many hide for fear of confrontation, they welcome the opportunity to make the world better one step at a time.

In Nighthawks, my first science fiction novel, the main character is a sarcastic art major who develops superhuman abilities. Surrounded by a tyrannical government, a deep-rooted conspiracy, and robots trying to kill him, I found there was little time to delve into his sexual orientation. When working on the back blurb for the book, my publisher went as far as to suggest a budding relationship between him and his female muse. During a wave of edits, I decided a character who had been wearing a head scarf was being white-washed, and now represents a vibrant, strong, Muslim female. But to make the protagonist gay, that remained difficult. While I didn't out him in the book, other characters have made observations and alluded to this eventual reality.

The book was well received and one of my former students messaged me saying thank you for writing a character like him. He struggled with his sexual orientation, but he refused to let it define his existence. He appreciated that my character had this dimension, subtle and without grandstanding. It dawned on me in that moment, that I needed to think back to Poppy Z. Brite and tackle my personal demons so I could expand as a writer. In Night Shadows, the sequel, the two male characters, after surviving a near-death experience, finally have sex. I decided I label the relationship, as I feel a younger me never needed the label itself. I needed to know not every act of intimacy required categorization, and at this point, I'm not sure if the characters' passionate exchange will be more than a friendship with perks.

Gays in horror, reflecting on this I've always wondered, why this genre and not the fantastical possibilities of fantasy or the progressiveness of sci-fi? Being a visible member of the LGBTQ+ community has gotten easier for me, but there are those mortifying moments when you ponder, "What if..." What if that man slinging slurs at the bar had started a fight? What if I'm told I'm being sent to rehabilitation? What if I find myself jailed for public displays of affection? What if I'm tortured for who I am? These horrors exist for many around the globe.

As a horror writer, I've been known to rake my characters over the coals and put them against incredible odds, but at the end of the book, there always remains a sliver of hope. After persisting, enduring, and surviving, we see a character able to grow and persevere. Even in the bleakest of horror where the character falls victim to these horrors, we mourn for the loss of an individual whose future still had promise . In essence, we place ourselves in their shoes and insist we make it to the final page. In horror, we find ourselves surviving the worst and hoping for the best.

I am gay. It will remain one of the many facets of who I am as a person. My fear of being labeled a "gay author," has become a hindrance, preventing me from penning the work I needed when I first identified as such. I am gay. I am an author. I am proud of both. Label as you must, but for now, I have characters in need of saving.

Jeremy Flagg is the author of the CHILDREN OF NOSTRADAMUS dystopian science fiction series and SUBURBAN ZOMBIE HIGH young adult humor/horror series. Taking his love of pop culture and comic books, he focuses on fast paced, action packed novels with complex characters and contemporary themes. For more information, visit

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Women in Horror Month - Finale.

Technically it ended yesterday, but we still had one guest blog post left. The final guest blogger for Women in Horror 2017 is Kristi Peterson Schoonover.

Wandering Women: Four Types of Female Ghosts and Why They’re Scary
There’s no mistaking that urban legends tend to favor the female ghost: along with “ladies” of every spectral color (from green and blue to grey, white, brown, red and even pink), we’ve all heard of Bloody Mary, the Bell Witch, and Screaming Jenny. While there’s no evidence to support that female haunters are any more frightening than their male counterparts, it’s interesting to note that females—many who have been featured in my own fiction—seem to be more terrifying because of what they represent.
Here are four of my favorites. What do you think?
The Faceless/Altered Woman
Many cultures have variations of the faceless or altered woman.
In Japan, there is the noppera-bo, who at first can appear as someone the victim knows; then the face dissolves completely, even though the body and head are still there. This apparition is sometimes confused with the mujina, a magical badger who can take the shape of a faceless woman (in my short story, “Mujina,” published in Skinwalker Press’s Dark Passages II: Tales from the Black Highway, I used the concept of noppera-bo but called it mujina with intent: noppera-bo just didn’t have as melodic a ring to it within the context of the narrative).
Japan also has the Slit-Mouthed Woman. There are many variations of the tale, but the one usually told most is that she was a woman whose jealous husband thought she was cheating. He slashed her mouth with scissors, laughing at her and asking, “Who will think you’re pretty now?” She supposedly approaches her victims and asks them if they think she’s pretty. Whether or not she kills them—or just cuts their mouths to match hers—depends on the answer given.

The Faceless/Altered Woman frightens because she represents a loss of identity. Noppera-bo or mujina represents the awareness that we may be ignored, or that our sense of self will be watered down (consider the person who had a passion for dance but had to give it all up, or the formerly diversified person whose entire existence is now predicated only on his or her spouse). Similarly, the Slit-Mouthed Woman is scary because it is about the loss of another aspect of our identity: we can be young and beautiful, but life or illness takes its toll. In other words, we age; in a more extreme context, consider the beauty queen who needs face surgery following an accident: her sense of who she is and what she could do has now been altered due to circumstances beyond her control.

The Vengeful Spirit
Thanks to the popularity of Suzuki’s Ring and its American counterparts, this is the stringy-haired specter who comes to mind when we think vengeance. She’s based on the Japanese revenant onryou, one who seeks revenge because she was wronged by a man.
Just about every culture has female wraiths hell-bent on retribution. Hindu folklore has the churel (pronounced choo-dale, although she is called by many other names), a woman who dies during menstruation, pregnancy, childbirth, or due to her relatives’ neglect; she rises from the grave to suck the blood of her kin. The Venezuelans have La Sayona, who kills adulterous men. In Scandinavian lore there is the mare, who sits on a man’s chest at night and gives him sleep paralysis or nightmares; while there’s little evidence to suggest she is an instrument of justice, her roots have been traced to a story in which an angry queen summoned a devil to kill her womanizing king in his sleep.
Each of us carries an inner dread that we may someday be punished for the injustices we’ve done. The idea that something could manifest itself and attack us in retaliation for those deeds—whether we committed them knowingly or not—is alarming.
The Wailing Woman
Many towns, especially in America, have “White Ladies”—most of who are wandering and crying because they’re grieving a dead loved one. The most famous—and dangerous—is La Llorona.
The story goes that she murdered her children by drowning them in a river so she could be with her lover (he hated children or didn’t want to take responsibility for them, it depends on which version you read). The lover, however, spurned her, and she drowned herself. It’s said she wanders the riverbanks, weeping, wailing—and looking for children to snatch to replace her dead ones. While her roots are most definitely in Mexico, there are versions of her in many South American legends and in the American Southwest—especially in San Antonio, home to a place called Woman Hollering Creek.
The presence of these ghosts suggests a very bleak eternity: they perpetrate the idea that when someone we love dies, we may never move on to find happiness. Grieving a loved one can be the darkest time of any life. It’s bone-chilling to think we’ll be sad for eternity.
The Lost Soul
These popular phantoms are usually the product of suicide or victimization.
My favorite tale is that of the Adirondacks’ Lady in the Lake. In 1963, a mannequin-like body was discovered at the base of Pulpit Rock, deep under the surface of New York’s Lake Placid. She was later identified as Anna Mabel Smith Douglass, who went rowing in 1933 and was never seen again. I don’t think the reason for her death has ever been pinpointed with certainty, although these days people speculate it may have been suicide. Either way, residents say you can often see her spirit, hovering above Pulpit Rock, looking distant and forlorn.
Canada has its Headless Nun, who had her head chopped off in an encounter with some undesirables (again, it depends on which version you read) while she was on her way to a convent in the great north. She spends her nights wandering about, searching for her head.
A third type of lost soul can be connected to punishment. Buddhist traditions have preta (“hungry ghosts”)—famine-stricken beings who are being punished for their greed in a past life by being made to wander the earth in a state of constant, insatiable hunger and unquenchable thirst. Preta, however, aren’t necessarily female.
There’s probably nothing more unnerving than thinking you may spend the rest of your earth-bound allotment in despair. These spirits remind us that there could very well come a time in our lives when our bodies have many years left—and so do our broken hearts.
Kristi Petersen Schoonover loves reading ghost stories as much as she loves writing them. Her short fiction has been featured in several magazines and anthologies; Dark Alley Press published her novel, Bad Apple, in 2012, and a novelette, “This Poisoned Ground,” in 2014. She holds an MFA from Goddard College, is the recipient of three Norman Mailer Writers Colony residencies, and is a co-host on the Dark Discussions podcast. Find out more at