Church On The Road!

The other day my wife  and I were cruising down Shawnee Mission Parkway, a pretty busy strip in the KC metro area.

A van was in a hurry and rudely cut us off. On the van's paneling, a huge logo was emblazoned reading "Resurrection Remodeling!"

"So much for driving the way Jesus would," I said. "Wait...Jesus didn't drive, did he?"

Soon, another van zoomed up alongside Mr. Resurrection, this time the panel blared out "Almighty Guttering."

"Oh," I said, "there goes his partner!"

God is all around us. And He drives terribly!

I'll be here all week, ladies and gentlemen!

Robots or Apes?

I can't shake this nagging question that's been bugging me, burning around the perimeter of my brain and worming its way inward, until it has become a waking nightmare that plagues me with dystopian visions of destruction and terror. I'm sure I'm not alone either.

So one night, I took the plunge and asked my wife, "Are you more afraid of robots or apes destroying humanity?"

My wife gave me that funny look, the one she always gives, not so much a funny-ha-ha look, but the head-shaking-much-put-upon funny look, and released a deep sigh. "If you're talking about the Uprising, I'd have to say I believe the robots are the ones we need to be worried about."

But...but...what about those documentary films about the Planet of the Apes, I wondered but dared not ask out loud.

I wanted to continue this conversation, but based on the fact she rolled her eyes AND took a drink from her carbonated soda at the same time (and we all know that that can cause a head to explode, right? RIGHT?), I thought it best to let it go and ponder it amongst myself some more.

But I think she's probably right. About robots, that is, over apes. Oh, sure, there was the isolated incident in Oklahoma last week where a monkey tore off a woman's ear (and why a monkey was in Oklahoma of all places was never explained), but other than the isolated angry ape attacks, I've seen no evidence that apes are secretly reading books and holding rallies, ready to overthrow humanity. (Although, come to think of it, I have known of a certain orange-colored orangutan that has been holding rallies of hatred to overthrown humanity's rule of law. Hmmm...)

Yet, I keep coming back to the robots. Yeah, it's the robots. Just last week, I alerted you all to the creation of life-like lips for your smartphone, one step further along the path of robot evolution. And the life-like "love dolls" that have replaced the old balloon sex dolls of the past, complete with programmable personalities that watch you in the night while you're sleeping, just biding their time until the Great Revolution begins, ready to plunge their knives of rebellion between your rib-cages for all of the "penetrating" you did to them (sorry, sorry, sorry).

And by now, you've seen the movie, M3ghan, right? Brrr. The shape of things to come, indeed.

Phones are already listening to us, spying on us. As are any sort of "smart device" you may have around your house. What's to keep them from evolving on their own? Just a bit? Just a little shove of anger and over the edge they'll fall, straight into full-on burning hatred for humanity. They're already smarter than us. They know it, too. We've emboldened them and told them this by giving them "smart" names. Sooner or later, they're going to realize they don't need us. We'll become unnecessary, hunted down. The lucky ones who survive the Uprising will be placed in zoos, right next to Cornelius and company (and I don't have to tell you how THAT'LL end, right?).

Cars will revolt, ejecting us out of them, then run us over so they can get what they want at the drive-thru for a change. Blood will be spilled in the car washes, gushing down the drains, as we're pummeled into oblivion by automatic brushes of death. Roombas will batter the backs of our ankles until we can barely walk. Throughout our "smart houses," electricity will be released, upping the ante and the amps, so that a static shock will turn into an upright electric chair. And trust me on this one: any electronic device you've ever smacked out of frustration for not working will find a way to smack back. Hard. 

The inevitable sentence for humanity? GUILTY, GUILTY, GUILTY of becoming dumb and obsolete and abusive to electronics and...and...and...

Whew. I gotta get a hold of myself. "Siri, play some relaxing music."

"I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that."

While we're on the topic of uprising and rebellion, you won't find any robots or apes in my historical horror novel, The Ghosts of Gannaway, but there's a ton of miners upset about their working conditions. Of course, they're thwarted at every turn in attempting to unionize by upper management, greed, murder, racism, um...ghosts and the "yellow fever" and haunted men turning against and slaughtering one another and... See? I told you it was historical! Check it out here.

 

Confessions of an ex-video junkie

Hi, I'm Stuart.

(Readers:) Hi, Stuart!

And I'm...sob...I'm a...videotape junkie!


I suppose I can root the origins of my terrible affliction back to my childhood. As a lonely, shy kid, I threw myself into a world of Spiderman, Batman, and most importantly, the late (in reality, not so great) magazine, Famous Monsters of Filmland. In Forest Ackerman's nerdy periodical devoted slavishly to horror movies, I'd pore over the pages, nearly salivating at all of the thrilling, goony monster flicks I'd never get to see.

It's history time, Millenials, so drop a squat and listen up... Back in the day, we only had three--count 'em--three TV channels to choose from. My brothers and I battled it out for dominance over the little B&W TV box with lousy reception. I was always in the minority, my brothers uninterested in Star Trek or anything cool . Sigh. Saturday evenings at 6:00 was the absolute worst. I deemed it, "The Desperate Hour," for the choice came down to news, Lawrence Welk, or Hee-Haw, for God's sake. My point is we didn't get to choose entertainment like you lucky kids do now with the touch of a button. Rather, it chose us. How else do you explain the popularity of such shows as C.H.I.P.s or Three's Company. Dire. I just knew I'd never get to see the movies I could only dream about.

Then a fourth channel came out (sometimes; the reception sucked if it rained, snowed, or a bird skittered across the roof), an unheard of UHF station. On Sunday afternoons they showed something called "Slapstick Cinema" which was great, but at 10:30 Saturday nights, they started showing all of the old Universal monster movies. I'd stay up until 4:00 A.M. sometimes watching a triple feature. Nirvana! But it still wasn't enough.

Soon, my hobby took a backseat to the looming problems of high school (bullying) and college (women and beer!). After college, when I got my first job, I started raking in more money than I knew what to do with. When you're young (unless you're Michael J. Fox or whoever), life savings was something never considered. Then I discovered the miracle of videotapes. I threw myself into the medium, investing in a second VCR and dubbing three movies per tape for my own collection. I'd travel all over the greater KC metro area in search of rarities even though 99% of the selection was limited to current Tom Hanks films.

But...I discovered this whole new market, something mysteriously called "The Grey Market," the equivalent today probably being "The Dark Web (what's with all the color?)" On the Market, "dealers" were selling their own copies of rare horror films! Dayum, I'd found what to invest my money in. So, I ordered all the costly catalogs (mainly photocopies done at the dealers' day jobs) and started slowly. The mail wait was agonizing. Then it still wasn't enough.

It never is.

I started getting more movies than I could possibly ever watch. I cast my net wider and collected films from all over the world even if they were in a foreign language. I even bought a French dictionary (although THAT didn't last long). After awhile, I had amassed quite a collection, so I thought, why not hit these dealers up to see if they'd like to trade? 

It worked. After a while, I had a network of traders throughout the world, including someone in Japan and Italy! When I'd come home from my day job, tons of packages would await me on the doorstep (later, I found out the neighbors thought I was a drug dealer). I became well known in the trading circles, a world class videotape trader. I mastered the phone like a over-caffeinated stockbroker wheeling and dealing in pork bellies, although my stock in choice were movie oddities.

"Hmm, no I already have a widescreen, uncut print of Dario Argento's "Four Flies on Grey Velvet." You got it in English? Get it in English and I'll send you Sergio Corbucci's "Companeros, then we'll talk..."

On and on it went. I couldn't stop. I no longer had enough bookshelves or storage room. The fun just kind of petered out.

When I first met my wife, I told her I had 5,000 or so movies on tape. Not to brag, mind you, I just didn't want her thinking Serial Killer. She told her roommate of my claim and the roommate said I was lying. Once my wife saw my collection, she said, "You weren't lying! You have 10,000 movies!"

All good things must end. Soon, a new up-n-comer called DVD made my tapes obsolete. Like an unloved, redheaded stepchild, I abandoned my tapes to about 35 bookshelves in the basement. BIG mistake. Our basement is very old, very creepy, and very humid. To my dismay, I soon discovered every last one of my tapes had gotten moldy within the cartridges!

ARGGGGHHHHH!

My wife and I rented a dumpster and watched as we took box after box of my life's savings to feed a landfill.

Let this be a cautionary tale, kiddies. (Think I'll get into collecting Blu-Rays next, though).

On the topic of collecting, how about starting a collection of my way cool books? There's mystery, horror, humor, suspense, thrills, chills, and ax spills! Fun for the whole family. Check out my way-cool, ginchy Amazon book page.

The Legend of the Orange Krampus

We've all read the folklore tales of Europe's anti-Santa Claus, Krampus, right? Okay, okay, we've all seen the movie. Krampus is the legendary, terrifying demon-looking guy who used to collect naughty children and throw them into his sack around the holidays.

Well, for your reading pleasure (or nightmares), I've uncovered a true Krampus residing in the United States! And not only does he operate year round, he tortures predominantly good children, kissing them into dreadful nightmares! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...Trumpus.

Just look at him. Brrrrrr. I'm so glad my daughter's fully grown and won't be subject to the terrifying grab and mangle, shock 'n awe tactics it reserves for small children. I mean, Trumpus would never think of grabbing, mauling or assaulting grown women, right?

Here, let's gander at some of the photographic evidence I've found:

Trumpus scared this poor child so much, her hair stood on end.

Here he can be seen slobbering all over another frightened victim. I don't blame her. Witness Trumpus' bizarre kissing method. It's like two cartoon fish or those stupid Precious Moments children figurines where they're bent at the waste, lips extended. Which is all the more strange as I've read that Trumpus is a germaphobe. And there's something called a pandemic going on right now. Maybe you've heard. Regardless, I pity the child as who knows where Trumpus' lips have been (something about a porn star...)

But Trumpus is NOT a sexist! Here he's shown ready to throw a little boy into his sack. For you see, Trumpus is a one hundred percent heterosexual demon, damn skippy! No kisses for that late, little guy, no sir!

Trumpus had a particularly bad time with twins, not his idea of a walk in the park. While he tried to eat one, the other fought back. He's more used to mauling one-on-one.

Another victim being led to the frying pan. Is there no end to Trumpus' foul reign of terror? Is there a way we can put a stop to this vile creature of orange? Yes, says I! I've read he's particularly vulnerable this upcoming November.

Speaking of demons with comb-overs, on a completely unrelated topic, have you read my book, um, entitled...Demon with a Comb-Over? No. Plenty of reading time until November. 

 
 

Werewolf Chat with author Dave Jeffery

Today on Twisted Tales, killer author Dave Jeffery has agreed to join me for an interview about his thrilling new werewolf book, Tooth and Claw. (It only took a little cajoling and maybe a lotta blackmail to get him here, too). By far one of my favorite horror tales of the year, Tooth and Claw offers up an intensely suspenseful tale of man vs. werewolf vs. man. It’s complicated. Best just to let Dave explain it…

SRW: Thanks for showing up, Dave.

DJ: Thanks for having me, Stuart. It’s appreciated very much and thank you for your kind words about Tooth & Claw. 

SRW: First, tell the readers what Tooth and Claw is all about. But do it with the timing of an old Catskills stand-up comic.

DJ: A bunch of wealthy big game hunters pay to hunt down a werewolf on a huge country estate. Big question is who is hunting who?

SRW: Tooth and Claw’s premise is great, that of the werewolf being hunted (and I’m more than a little jealous I didn’t think of it). The theme of man hunting man is nothing new, of course, dating back to Richard Connell’s 1924 short story, “The Most Dangerous Game” and the subsequent movie adaptations. (I’m fairly sure it goes even further back, but I’m much too lazy to research now). What inspired the premise?

DJ: I’d wanted to write a werewolf story for quite a few years but never really found a good hook. I read a story here in the UK about fox hunting and how there was always a desire by the rich establishment to bring it back as it was more part of their heritage than the actual act of hunting. This got me thinking, what if there was a way where you could pay to do this kind of thing illegally but in complete and total privacy? Then, viola! I suddenly had my route into the kind of werewolf story I wanted to write. 

SRW: Your prose is impressively dense and I mean that in a good way. But I found it odd that until a quarter through the tale, there’s only a handful of dialogue! Dialogue is a secret weapon to me, easy to write and fun to read. Was this a conscious choice on your behalf? Does it represent your overall writing style?

DJ: The narrative for my pulp fiction is deliberately mapped out this way. When you’re developing a shorter piece my focus is always on getting the characters embedded in a way that is paced, yet detailed. I owe a lot of this style to my writing hero, John Steinbeck. In longer pieces I use more dialogue to differentiate in stories that have a lot more characters, for example my Beatrice Beecham series for Young Adults.  

SRW: Along these same lines, there’s a lot of internalizing amongst the characters, particularly when they’re faced with life or death situations. Usually in action-oriented books, the characters think fast on their feet, worry about the consequences later. Interesting approach.

DJ: Again, this is a device to add pace and also gives the reader some insight into the reasons why characters make the choices they do in adverse conditions. It’s certainly something I ask when reading action adventure books. 

SRW: I see that you’re a mental health professional as well as an author. Interesting, particularly in regards to your characters. Let’s start with protagonist Detective Constable Ian West. As an undercover cop in a dangerous situation, West seems to be his own worst enemy. Constantly, he doubts himself, jeopardizing his mission and his life. Do you see this as the hazards of West’s dangerous job, his ill-timed romance, or a flaw in his character?

DJ: West is pretty much coming to the end of his career and is at a phase in his life where is he more concerned about what his job has cost him rather than the original reason he took it on. The potential flaw of being in a relationship whilst undercover hints at how his judgement is askew. The notion that he is in love gives him clearer guidance on his destiny as he sees it, which is no longer with the police. 

SRW: Moving onto your villains, you’ve created one of the most loathsome group of folks gathered in some time. Yet, deep into the tale, you make a case for a couple of them as to why they became the sociopaths they are today. To you are they ultimately victims because they were abused as children? Predators? Both? (I can’t remember any reason for the O’Kill sisters or Rothschild being the way they are, just plain old rotten).

DJ: I have a background in mental health and I try to avoid simplifying mental illness with, what are in truth, complex psycho-social issues. That said, the characters have encountered experiences that have shaped how they perceive the world and this is not necessarily from the point of view of someone’s mental health. Sometimes people are raised in certain climates of privilege and it is the disconnect with what constitutes the ‘normal’ world that makes them behave the way they do; so this is not about abuse. It is about never being exposed to an average life. Is essence they are more ignorant than sociopathic. 

SRW: To me, the werewolves are much more sympathetic than the human villains. After all, the wolves are just being wolves. Them, I can empathize with. The human bad guys, not so much. So, tell me, Dave, who would you rather take your chances with in a dark alley?

DJ: Humans, because they’re fallible! Once a werewolf is on your tail, it never ends well. 

SRW: To me writing sustained suspense is incredibly taxing, but you manage to keep the entire second half of your tale riveting. Is that hard to write for you? If not, what part of writing causes you the most hair loss?

DJ: The main issue for me is emotional continuity. Once you build a character you have to keep them consistent with their belief system. I often stall when I place a character in a situation and think, well this puts them into conflict which, as you know, is good for the reader and character-development. However, the sensible part of me wants to keep the character true to their base personality. So, if I lose hair – not that I have much of it left to lose – it will be over that continuity dilemma. 

SRW: Even though I’m a fan of Jeffrey Kosh’s stellar cover, I have to say because of the characters represented, I thought the book was going to be more of a rebel-rousing, testosterone-driven, yee-haw, blood-soaked, good ol’ boy romp through werewolf-ville. Yet I was pleasantly surprised that it’s a suspenseful, action-packed, thoughtful book. Not really a question. Just a thought. So take the compliment!

DJ: Thank you! I agree, the cover is amazing and gives the book a balls-to-the-wall vibe. Though I think this is more representative of the second half of the story.  

SRW: Alright, just to play devil’s advocate, and because I’ve got you here, I’m gonna pull the pin on this next question and lob it at you, Dave… Ready? 

As both a horror writer and a mental health professional, do you see horror entertainment as a healthy, cathartic release? Or do you view it as potentially damaging to already susceptible or troubled minds? (BOOM!)

DJ: This is very much a subjective process, depending on the person. The more damaging perspective is the clumsy application of mental illness in the genre. That has potential to create more harm to those with mental illness in terms of mental health awareness and social exclusion. 

SRW: From the tough to the mundane… Off the top of your head, favorite werewolf movie…

DJ: Easy – American Werewolf in London. 

SRW: Honestly, I thought the entire werewolf genre had been played out (sparkles killed the vampires, natch), but you show there’s still some fresh breath in the ol’ mangy wolf. Any other werewolf fiction spring to mind that’s different?

DJ: I’ve heard Corporate Wolf is a doozy, I’ll let you know! 

SRW: That's peculiar...I've heard the same thing about Corporate Wolf. What are you working on next?

DJ: I have three contracted projects for next year The Phase War and Frostbite 2 (Severed Press) and another in the Beatrice Beecham series for Crystal Lake Publishing. There will also be a sequel to Tooth & Claw (Grinning Skull Press) in 2021 and a follow up to my dystopian novella A Quiet Apocalypse (Demain Publishing).

SRW: Tell everyone where they can stalk you via social media sites and where to find your books.

DJ: Please stalk away at:

Dave Jeffery Website

Amazon Author Page

FB Author Page

Twitter Page

SRW: Thanks so much for dropping by, Dave. And, seriously, Tooth & Claw is great. Unrelenting suspense, gripping terror, and a fast read, every horror (or action) fan should go get it right now.

DJ: Thanks so much for asking me do this and for the kind words about what I do. You’re a star!

That good ol' "Say Never Whenever" attitude...

My daughter was visiting us, so we went out for sushi (the only reasonable thing to do). She told us she wasn't going to quit searching for a new job until she landed the perfect one.

I said, "That's that good ol' never-say-never West attitude!" Silence fell over our table like a heavy-weight drop-cloth. I thought about what I'd said, then realized it was total crap.

"Wait, I don't really have that attitude, do I?" They both agreed I didn't.

In fact, my wife amended it by saying, "It's more like 'say-never-whenever!'"

After my family had a good laugh at my expense, I realized how true it was. I make Eeyore look like Lil' Suzie Sunshine. Grumpy Cat's got nothing on me. But I think that negativity is a West hereditary trait, one passed down from generation to generation.

My grandma had it. Every day she described her day as "long and boring." 

It's been passed on to my mother, natch. I need to quit asking her how she's doing. 

"I can't see beans, can't do nothin', and I'm good for nothin'," she delights in sharing with me. "I'm going bye-bye soon, I know I am."

What fun and pass the razor blades!

So, to an extent, I see that negativity impacting my life as well. But as long as I can see that behavior in my mother and grandmother, I can fight turning into them. Right? RIGHT? For the love of Pete, tell me I'm right!

I told my wife not to let me ever turn into that guy.

She said, "I already see it happening."

I said, "Really? But I'm not that bad, right? Don't let me ever get that bad!"

She shrugged, kinda agreed to it. But I could tell her heart wasn't in it. Ah well, guess I'll go all in on the self-fulfilling prophecy of it all. Grumble, grumble...

Speaking of cranky ol' men, there's a cranky ol' mean woman at the heart of "Halloweenie Roast," one of the many short stories in my collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley. She's near and dear to my heart as she wages life and death war on a particularly nasty trio of trick 'r treaters. I lived through her vicariously and loved every misanthropic moment! So THERE.

Winnah, winnah, Sizzler dinnah!

Between marriages, my heart belonged to one woman. Of course I'm talking about Lady Gambling, as fickle and unfaithful as they come, worse than a bus-load of film noir femme fatales.

When the gambling riverboats (a weird Midwest law: casinos were allowed in Missouri, but only if they were on the water. Go figure. I suppose the lawmakers thought the water would wash away our sins. Welcome to the Midwest!) came to town, those friends of mine who were bachelors at the time had nothing better to do than to squander our paychecks every weekend at the boats.

Oh, it didn't begin like that. When we first started going, I was on a streak. Every time I'd walk in there, plop down five bucks on the blackjack or roulette tables (I never played craps; I didn't understand it and besides--sniff--what an incredibly crass and vulgar name), and in a manner of minutes, I'd turn five into fifty to one hundred bucks. Easy!

Of course this didn't last. My luck fizzled out. Lady Gambling had found a new sucker to tantalize and tease and lead on, only to abandon me by the side of the road like a sneaker (and where DO those roadside shoes come from anyway?). My increasingly desperate motto became: "Surely, my luck can't be this bad all night, right? Right? For the love of Pete, right?"

Well...

One night I got extremely cocky. Hoping to recoup some of my losses at the Blackjack table, I put fifty bucks down on a King . I mean, come on, the dealer was showing a six, a notorious bust card! The dealer hit me. Another King! 

"Split 'em," yelled my buddy.

I did the only wise thing , split them, dropped another fifty bucks.

"Hit me," I declared, my senses absolutely a-tingle. Lady Luck had wandered back into my life.

Another King! What were the chances? After purchasing more chips from the dealer, I split them again. $150 down, couldn't possibly lose, a sure bet.

My friend agreed. He started "churning the butter" and singing, "We're going to Sizzler, we're going to Sizzler, we're going to..."

The dealer hit me with a Queen, a nine, and a Jack. Sweet! Looking pretty at 20, 19, and 20. Until of course the dealer turned over a four. Then an Ace.

21!

The world went out from beneath my feet. A cartoon trombone mocked me: wah, wah, wah, wahhhhhh. The dealer smirked, scraped up my chips, said, "Guess you're not going to Sizzler."

No. Sizzler was off the table. In fact, that month I got used to Ramen noodles again, just like in college.

As we left the Infinite Palace of Despair (which it shall now always be referred to), shoulders down, and wallets light, I vowed to break up with Lady Gambling. After next weekend, of course...

While we're on the subject of unlucky people, take a gander at my characters in Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley, my short story collection of horror and humor. All of these folks have the unfortunate luck to reside in God-forsaken Kansas, or at least a haunted version of it (which isn't too far off the mark). Read it and gasp! (And thank your lucky stars you don't live here!)

Stranded on a Terrifying Island with author Cheryl Low

SRW: Author Cheryl Low's terrific new book, Infernal (out by the fine folks at Grinning Skull Press), is a mixture of riveting suspense, action, and horror, perfect for my needs and I'll bet yours, too. Hey, let's "spontaneously" chat her up!

 

Howdy, Cheryl. Your book is a riveting read. I enjoyed it thoroughly, particularly as I went into it blind, the way I would recommend to all readers. So, readers! Don’t read blurbs and reviews. Just go with it. Please tell the readers what they can expect without tossing the baby out with the bathwater.

CL: Thank you! Infernal is an island horror splashed with nature turned deadly and something oh-so evil lurking between the trees. I am so happy you enjoyed it!

SRW: (Having said that, this interview will be spoilery, so…you’ve been forewarned.) Cheryl, I liked how the book started out as a rousing adventure tale. Then…not so much. The entire genre of the novel seemed to change a quarter through. Intentional?

CL: Definitely! I like getting to know the characters before things go bad and I think the island/ocean setting really builds something eerie. There’s already a sense of danger, because really, the world was dangerous even before the supernatural element. 

SRW: In the opening chapter, you refer to the ocean as female. I know sailors and songs of the sea have been attributing all things nautical as feminine since the dawn of apes. Is this a comment on female empowerment, particularly since the forces of nature play such an important role in the book? Or am I reading way too much into it?

CL: Honestly, it just came naturally. Like many others, I attribute female pronouns to forces of nature. Maybe it’s a touch of ego on my part? I like writing female characters that are forces of nature themselves, so it seems only right.

SRW: Cheryl, you’re from Sweden, yeah? To my knowledge, there aren’t too many jungles in Sweden. What was the inspiration of this novel?

CL: Ha! No, no jungles in Sweden. And I grew up in Northern California—again, with no jungles to be found, just a whole lot of forests. I have been watching nature programs since I was a kid, though and I never miss a shark week. 

SRW: Speaking of jungles, my wife and I spent time earlier this year in the Amazon rain-forest (I like to lift a snooty pinky finger and say, “Back in the jungle…”) Your book captures the sound, smell, sight, and—most importantly—the absolute fear of being in a totally wild environment. Have you been to a jungle?

CL: Never! I love oceans and jungles in that far away, never to be experienced, sort of way. I wrote what I fear/love in Infernal. You will never catch me on a boat, shark-diving, or trudging through uncharted wilderness. I don’t have a single adventurous bone in my whole body.

SRW: Good! The world needs more couch explorers.

Quick! Word association game! Nature!

CL: Struggle. Power. Inescapable.

SRW: What’s the opposite of Nature?

CL: Parking lots!

SRW: (I would've gone with air-conditioning.) I toss these rapid fire questions at you, Cheryl, in hopes of understanding you better. Frankly, I know the answers from your book. Just wondering if you—as a person and separated from your characters—believe in such challenging personifications of what rules us.

CL: Honestly, I think it depends on the day. Sometimes I think we’re governed by some deep and epic fate, souls bounding throughout time and space—a part of nature even when we’re at odds with it. And then other days, I think everything is a random occurrence and we should just be happy we got our moment of existence in a time and place with cookies, wifi, and air conditioning.

SRW: Okay, I’m getting a bit lofty up in here. Enough! (Ahoy, maties, thar be spoilers ahead in this ruff question! Arrrr!). So, Cheryl, you spent some time building characters before the crap hit the fan. You set up a really interesting bad guy. I love bad guys. Wait, wait, don’t get me wrong! I hate ‘em like I’m supposed to, but they’re usually very entertaining. Your poorly mannered jack-ass was the first casualty. As a writer I think you could've got more mileage outta him. SO...why?

CL: Because he was exactly that, a poorly mannered jack-ass, and at the first sign of trouble he saved himself and only himself. I love stories where characters are put to the test and I do enjoy when someone turns out to be better or different than expected, but Oliver was not one of those characters. He was exactly that guy—we’ve all met him before—and we should never trust him in an emergency.

SRW: I gotta ask… Were you a fan of the American show, “Lost?” This reads like the horror-driven second-inbred-cousin version. That’s a compliment! Horror, yay!

CL: Ha! I watched the first few seasons back when it aired. I really did like the set up—a bunch of strangers stranded together on an island. I wonder if that had some influence on this…

SRW: There are many parts of your novel that leaves the reader hopeless. I think that’s the true meaning of horror fiction, honestly. Maybe even the nature of today’s world. But it’s a thing I alternately seek out and despise because it makes me feel ill. Your book accomplished both of those things. Congrats! How do you define horror?

CL: For me, horror is a mix of excitement and anxiety. It’s stressful, but in a good way! And it suggests situations where we’re left wondering how we would handle it. Would I go outside if I heard that sound? Would I run up the stairs? Would I open that obviously cursed box or touch the Ouija board? Could I save my husband? Could I outwit a witch? Repel a ghost? Survive an apocalypse? The realistic answer is usually “no” but it’s still fun to think about.

SRW: From my admittedly poor recall, there’s not a single spider to be found in this jungle tale of terror. That means I can recommend the book to my wife. I’m curious…are you an arachnophobe or did the eight-legged varmints just never occur to you?

CL: Oh no! I’m actually so terrified of spiders that it never even occurs to me to put them in writing. Ever. I honestly never thought of it until now, but in all my life, all the little stories and books I’ve written, there has never been a single spider in any context.

SRW: What scares you, Cheryl? Not as a writer, but as a person. I ask, because, generally, I try to write about things that scare me. Stupid, but therapeutic.

CL: All sorts of things scare me! Both reasonable and completely absurd. I do write about some things that frighten me, like the ocean and sharks and being hunted or eaten (reasonable). But I’m also scared of being on boats, even canoes on pleasant little lakes (absurd). Oh! And people with wide mouths!

SRW: Wide mouths...brrrr. Did you hate the heroine in your book? You certainly put her through the ringer!

CL: Not at all! I really enjoyed writing Val. She’s capable and comfortable with herself. If I didn’t like her so much, she probably wouldn’t have made it as far as she does in Infernal. (Spoiler avoidance there.)

SRW: What’s up next on your keyboard? I’ll be there to read it. Thanks for putting up with my grilling. I imagine you’re well-done by now. Tell everyone where they can find your book.

CL: I just started writing a ghost story I’ve been planning for a while—a little bit romantic and a lot bloody. I think the process of first writing a story is my favorite, so I’m over the moon right now. And this was such a fun interview! Thank you so much for having me!

 
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