So what was Vigil about? A navy crewmember is murdered aboard HMAS Vigil and because the sub is still in Scottish waters, it becomes a police investigation. DCI Silva (Suranne Jones) is flown out onto the sub and must face off a murderer, PTSD from a nasty watery incident from her past and possible WW3 while her lover, a fellow police officer (Rose Leslie), must investigate another connected murder on land.

The submarine story is rooted in reality via the UK’s Trident nuclear weapons program, a program that is highly contentious in Scotland where the subs are kept offshore in Scottish waters. I follow a couple of Scottish independence blogs here and there out of interest and from what I can gather Trident is part of the argument for independence – why should Scotland host weapons they didn’t ask for and don’t want? Certainly, the two major pro-independence parties, the SNP and the Greens, are anti-Trident. Here then, is an interesting premise for a show. I was hoping for an even-handed, Honourable Woman style look at the case for and against Trident in the guise of a murder mystery conspiracy thriller …

Alas, what I got was something much more boring and unbelievable and well … predictable. Incidentally, it’s the same reason I never liked Bodyguard, which threw away it’s unique, thought-provoking themes halfway through by dispatching Keeley Hawe’s home secretary in favour of a dull Jihadist evil villain plot with bonus Islamaphobia. I don’t watch political thrillers just to be entertained (though certainly, plenty of people watch TV this way and that’s fine). I watch because I want to think, to be educated, to be challenged. That was a bit hard with Vigil when the main story ended up centering on the villainy of the Russians (boo, hiss) and ultimately, a fairly conservative claim that Trident is necessary to protect the UK and its way of life. A claim, I might add, that was never adequately substantiated by evidence within the show itself.

I don’t tend to go in for nationalism, especially when no valid reason for it is really given in the story (the Russian thing felt like a way to specifically not engage with the issues with Trident in favour of positioning the trusty subs against cartoon evil villains in the Russians in a kind of false dichotomy), so this didn’t impress me much. Not to mention, I didn’t buy the way the writer talked about environmentalists and the anti-nuclear peace camp (apparently, the camp agrees with me because they refused to let the BBC film them for the show), nor did I like how the ostensibly SNP MP was depicted. This was a show with an agenda, and it wasn’t one I liked.

Having said that, I can usually handle conservative themes I don’t agree with in a drama and still like it (even if it may not become a fave). I watched all ten series of Spooks and Series 7 also has an ‘it iz alwayz ze Russians’ theme with the trusty spies versus the nation-state enemy and I loved it. Similarly, I’m a shameless Bond fanatic and don’t mind Marvel in moderation. I even gave Dark Knight Rises a decent film score even with its uncomfortable conservative agenda. If the story works thematically, or in terms of character and plot I won’t mind too much. Alas, Vigil’s plot got wilder and wilder by the week, with coincidences and bad decisions galore. Not to mention, a completely implausible escape out of a missile tube at the start of episode six.

In addition, Vigil felt like a show that didn’t know what story it wanted to tell. At first, it sold itself as a political conspiracy thriller (which is how I got sucked in because that’s my jam), then it turned into a kind of Agatha Christie on a submarine concept, then it morphed midway through into a modern day Cold War nation state thriller and then it turned into a blend of horror film with character driven romance. I don’t have a problem as such with any of these genres, but it all got too muddled, especially by the finale.

Finally, the baddies were so obviously telegraphed there wasn’t much suspense for me in the end. I spent all of the finale waiting for an interesting plot twist that never came. Indeed, a whole section of the internet guessed the murderous culprits by about episode two because of the obvious foreshadowing. And then there were the characters. I quite liked Rose Leslie. In fact, she was easily the best part of the show alongside the opening credits, but Suranne Jones (who to be fair, I don’t usually mind) felt fairly oppressive. Her character was constantly stressed, aggressive, put upon and depressed, which while I understand was the script, got a bit wearing particularly on top of the claustrophobia of the submarine setting itself.

In the end I was frustrated, incredulous and more than a little bored by the whole thing, though at least the same sex couple didn’t get fridged and ended up happy. That was something. Still, there’s talk of a Series 2. Dear God, no.

Well. What a time I had watching you, Luther. It took me most of Series 1 to lose my constant frustration with the plot. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUESSED RUTH WILSON’S ALICE MORGAN IS A PSYCHOPATH BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T YAWN? I screamed at my telly in the pilot. HOW CAN ALICE GO AROUND LONDON THREATENING PEOPLE WITH HAIRPINS GIVEN LONDON’S OBSESSION WITH CCTV? I shouted a few episodes later. WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK LUTHER IS SO GREAT WHEN HE’S A VIOLENT ABUSER OF HIS EX-WIFE, DROPPED A SUSPECT TO HIS ALMOST DEATH AND LARKS AROUND LIKE HE’S KING OF THE JUNGLE INSTEAD OF DOING HIS ACTUAL JOB? I screamed again and again. I couldn’t figure out if Idris Elba’s Luther was a hero or an anti-hero and the only scenes I cared about were the ones where Wilson’s Alice turned up to cause mayhem and try and seduce Luther to her psychotic way of thinking. Plus the soundtrack is pretty good in an edgy alternative way.

Then something magical happened. I watched the Series 1 finale. It was completely mad, so outrageous any hope of realism was shredded and involved Luther’s ex wife’s new boyfriend, Luther and the psychopath, Alice, standing over a dead body. It shouldn’t have worked, yet as Alice killed Luther’s wife’s murderer in front of him and his colleagues (convinced it was Luther who’d killed his wife because reasons) closed in for an arrest, I grinned like a loon. Nina Simone’s Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood played and I finally understood. Neil Cross was writing heightened fan fic and I was okay with this. Also, ohhhhhh Luther *was* meant to be ambiguous the whole time with Alice his mirror image potential for darkness. Suddenly, I was IN with no turning back.

And then I started on Series 2 and the ‘Luther accused of murder’ subplot was dealt with off screen and Alice hastily written out of the show as Ruth Wilson sought fame, fortune (and later found sexism, alas) in The Affair. I was very upset. The fan fic heightened madness of the last two episodes of Series 1 was abandoned for a gritty dark London with evil serial killers in every corner (which wasn’t bad per se, but also wasn’t really what I’d been watching the show for). There was also something about a surrogate daughter, Jenny, and some mobsters, which I actually quite enjoyed and was sad when Jenny never turned up again post the Series 2 finale. There was also a great twin serial killer plot that used roll of the dice luck games to horrific effect and is enough to make one afraid of petrol stations at night for life. Still, I was pretty annoyed by the lack of Alice and the sudden dropping of the ambiguous ‘Luther has a dark side that he barely controls’ narrative in favour of Luther as the hero in a killer filled London hellscape thing they went for instead.

And then there was Series 3. The art direction was prettier. The horror was more horrific. My stomach lurched through the first two parter as a guy hid under a woman’s bed to off her in the worst way imaginable, then continued his spree by hiding in someone’s apartment, luring the husband into the attic and smashing hubbie’s dead head through the ceiling just to make sure the wife’s last moments weren’t remotely pleasant before he offed her too. The violence against women and the horror stereotypes were enough to make people protest. The ludicrous of Luther getting the two women who did escape one killer’s clutches to send a picture of them giving the finger to the captured killer was enough to make you wonder just how this got commissioned by the BBC. But then maybe that’s part of the fun. The BBC made this derivative, insane, unsubtle cop show? How unexpectedly delightful and ironic.

That’s when I got to the Series 3 finale (basically the Series 1 finale but even wilder and sillier). One of my friend’s claimed that 99% of the show’s suspense came from the audience asking themselves ‘where’s Alice?’ I admit this was me, and that I squealed with delight when she improbably showed up to tailspin, then gas, a cop car containing a yet again unjustly accused Luther (did I mention subtlety isn’t this show’s strong point?) Oh, and she did this in a gas mask. I didn’t care that Wilson scenery chewed her way through the episode, hat pin in hand, or that Luther’s choice between loving the psychopath or his current girlfriend was got at through a contrived sequence of events. I cared that the bad Alice Morgan was back, saving Luther’s ass with an insane plan that somehow worked. And the best part? When Luther’s girlfriend is finally rescued from the serial killer of the week and tells Luther to go after Alice, he does, bad limp from a gunshot and all, to join Alice on a Thames bridge. I don’t care how improbable that plot was, or how much they made Ruth Wilson look like she was in a shampoo ad as her hair wind machined its way to freedom on that bridge, I care about how happy she and Luther were together, two very black individuals carved from the same cloth, as Never Gonna Give You Up played over the end credits and the psychopath and the cop danced off into the sunset.

Perhaps Luther should have ended there. Series 4 was only two episodes long, and airing years later sans Ruth Wilson (girl, stop being so talented and therefore popular, coz Luther kind of derailed when you weren’t around). Rose Leslie turned up as Luther’s new partner and might have gone somewhere interesting, but the plot didn’t have enough time to talk about her, Alice’s off screen death and Luther’s return to the force, a serial killer of the week story and a secondary story about an underground criminal kingpin. It sucked hard. Even hardcore Luther fans don’t like to speak of it. Moving on …

Luckily, Series 5 got kind of back on track (though it never hit the halcyon days of Alice and Luther traipsing off that London bridge into the sunset again) with a delicious Doctor Death and his wife story that stretched over the whole season and made everyone afraid of nighttime bus trips, people in masks and having surgery under sedation (This story was so scary I legitimately had nightmares and had to finish the show in the middle of the day in broad daylight). They also brought Alice back with a deliciously Master style hand wave non-explanation, the criminal kingpin and a new uncharacteristically chirpy (for this show) and competent cop partner for Luther in Wunmi Mosaku (I laughed so hard when Luther’s boss said they had to be careful because Halliday was getting fast-tracked by bureaucracy for promotion and she then proceeded to spend the whole series as the only copper doing any actual police work. Yeah, Luther, how very dare she get promoted for doing her job instead of faffing around with a psychopath).

The story was weirdly grim and dark, and the art direction lost the blues and greens and reds of Series 3 (which I was sad about because I liked that cinematography muchly), but I quite enjoyed getting some backstory on Alice and Luther, their similarities and differences and why Alice faked her own death, even if the pacing was often all over the place. Halliday’s death was extremely shocking even by Luther standards and Alice’s motivations for killing her were fascinating. I also did like that the show ended the way it began, with a suspect taking a long drop and Luther arrested for the umpteenth time as Nina Simone’s Please Don’t Be Misunderstood roared back into life for a finale reprise.

Is Luther really just misunderstood or is he a dangerous guy who gets people killed as they stay too close to his orbit? Is he as bad as Alice, or perhaps even worse? Is Alice really dead this time? How will Luther get out of this mess in time for the film we know is coming? I don’t know, but I actually do want to find out. Yes, this show is often colossally stupid with mere occasional flashes of brilliance, yes, Luther is a grade a douche bag who probably deserves Madsen’s long drop, and yes, things only really get exciting when Alice turns up with another improbable plan to get Luther out of strife, but that’s the charm of this comic book heightened looney tunes confection of a show. Please come back, show. I miss you already.

The Wildcard is your debut novel. Tell us a bit about how the novel came to be and the journey you went on to publication.

I wrote the first draft of The Wildcard when I was studying professional writing and editing at RMIT University, with a 15 month-old-baby and a day job. I’d write on the train, as a passenger in the car, in my lunch break, or when the baby slept. Except my baby never slept. So I’d push him around the streets in a pram going over plot problems in my head.

For six weeks I obsessed over this story, until the first draft was written. Then almost five years, many more drafts, two job changes, a million re-writes and another baby (who also didn’t sleep) later, I had the final version that ended up published by IFWG.

I’m the sort of writer who writes every day and have been doing so since I was about ten years old. But I didn’t start taking it seriously until I was in my mid-30s. That’s when I enrolled in the writing course, started submitting short stories to magazines, and committed to writing novels with an aim to be published. It took almost ten years to the day of making that decision before I had my first book contract, with IFWG, for The Wildcard.

I guess if there’s a moral of the story it’s that writing and publishing doesn’t necessarily move fast, and hanging in there for the long haul is more important than just about anything. Except writing. You’ve always got to write.

On your website you mention working with libraries/in archives and records/with information management and even as a business corporate writer. Does any of that experience influence your writing? How does it manifest in your debut, The Wildcard (if at all)?

I often find my ‘other’ non-writing career bleeds into my fiction in unexpected ways. During the day, I work with information in a myriad of formats and forms, developing ways to capture and classify it, to manage and store it, to protect it, and most of all, to ensure those who need to access it can find it and use it.

Information is also at the heart of the underground subculture of card players in The Wildcard. This is a world which relies on information to operate—who is playing and in what games, who wins those games, what the bets are, what the bets mean, because they’re never straight-forward monetary amounts. Who owes what to whom and who gets to collect on those debts.

It all comes down to who controls the information, who determines its veracity, and who derives power from doing so. Though I never deliberately drew parallels with my career in information management and governance, it was undoubtedly an influence. The world of The Wildcard is one dealing with the shift from analogue to digital, where the old guard are clinging on against change. Libraries, records and archives have been successfully managing that same shift for some three decades now, so I was on familiar territory when writing such themes in the novel.

You also say you write about dark stuff and the political. Could you elaborate on that a bit? How does it show up in The Wildcard?

I wrote The Wildcard as a fun, exciting, thriller adventure with a twist. I certainly didn’t aim to write anything dark and political.

And yet, the world of these card players is one in which businesses gain advantage by using what is effectively slave labour, politicians trade secrets over the cards, and political movers and shakers bet information and favours between themselves.

Money, power and influence corrupt what was intended to be “only just games.” When Anna, one of the card players in the novel, cries out that nobody should die for a game, she is genuinely shocked it’s reached that point. Yet as Jem, the protagonist, understands, when you get those kind of stakes involved, of course it’s going to end up like that.

So I guess I got a bit dark and political with this story anyway, despite my best intentions.

It seems like you love to read and write across a broad spectrum of genres. Have you mashed them up in The Wildcard? In your published short fiction?

I love a good story, no matter what the genre. And I do tend to mash up genres as suits me. The Wildcard certainly does this, slipping between the cracks of several genres. It is a thriller that is part heist-fiction, except they’re not stealing anything. Part murder mystery, except everyone knows who the killer is. Part dark underworld crime story, except they’re not criminals or gangsters, they’re just card players who want to play games.

It’s a con artist story without the con artists, and owes a great deal to my growing up obsessively watching The Sting and similar movies as a kid. It also draws a lot on my love for speculative fiction, which is where I feel most at home when it comes to genre.

The Wildcard isn’t speculative—it’s set in the real world and everything in it obeys our real world laws of physics and nature. Yet, the subculture the story is set within is entirely fictional and couldn’t realistically operate. It’s a community with its own intricate rules for operation and organisation, which required just as much worldbuilding as anything speculative I’ve ever written. It’s kind of like the world of secret assassins in John Wick, or the underground of Fight Club—both stories ostensibly set in the real world, but which couldn’t actually operate for real. At least, we hope not.

In The Wildcard, Jem (the protagonist) is thrust into a world where people bet on everything through card games. What made you choose to write about card games and gambling? Was it a particular experience or situation that spoke to you?

Honestly, the very first, earliest spark of an idea for this story came from a game of strip poker when I was about 19 and an undergraduate at university. Which sounds more exciting than it really was—the actual strip poker game fizzled into nothing pretty fast as we all chickened out in the first few rounds.

However, that game did leave me thinking about card games with bets other than money and I subsequently wrote a short story about a gathering of card players on a city rooftop making strange, non-monetary, slightly sinister bets on the cards.

Fast forward twenty-odd years and I stumbled over that short story in my archives. Something about the world described and the strange bets still grabbed me. So I decided to rewrite it and see where it took me … which was to this book, The Wildcard.

The book is very different from the early short story, but the Rooftop Games are still in there, as are the characters of Jem and Anna, whose friendship remains the beating heart of the tale.

Speaking of Jem, tell us about him and why the reader will love him (or not). 

Jem is a young man, a uni student, who is smart and kind and resourceful and loyal, and who finds himself trapped in something he has no way of understanding. His girlfriend—ex-girlfriend, as he quickly points out—tricks him into signing for her debt, only it’s not money he ends up owing, it’s his loyalty. Eleven years of it.

Which he has no way of understanding. So in steps his best friend from uni, Anna, who does understand, because these card games are her life … only she lives her life like she plays a game of poker, and has her own issues with her on-again/off-again relationship with a powerful player in this world, and isn’t entirely reliable. Then there’s Crispin, another player Jem meets, a young man who Jem’s increasingly drawn to, but who he isn’t sure he can trust…or if Crispin should trust him, either.

I love Jem, he’s fiercely intelligent in some ways and utterly naïve in others, and he is thrown into this world of twisting rules nobody ever explains, except that the stakes are really high. Which is kind of like real life: you’re left to flounder around trying to figure it out, while everybody else seems to have it together and know what they’re doing.

And I think we’ve all been there at times.

If you were to elevator pitch this book to a reader, how would you sell it to them? Are there other books you’d compare The Wildcard to?

Others have described this book as: “John Wick for card players.” Which I love. It’s not that there are gun-toting assassins shooting each other in this book, but it does have a twisting underworld society with its own strict rules and complicated hierarchy and power games and organisation. And a community which adheres to all these complex rules and policies them without mercy. All mostly hidden from the everyday world of everyone else going about their lives.

What research, if any, did you do for The Wildcard? Do you enjoy this part of the process?

One of the challenges of writing The Wildcard was the fact I was writing a character who is, in many ways, so much smarter than I am. Jem is a mathematician with an interest in applied mathematical computing, doing his PhD at uni. While I failed maths in high school.

As subplots revolve broadly around Jem’s research interests, I really had to figure out what I was talking about. Fortunately, my brother has a background in robotics and is a software/hardware guru, and he put up with my incessant questions, talking me through the current and future directions in the field, and giving me lots of feedback. I also researched various aspects of mathematics and probability online, looking for layman’s explanations I could understand, which was fascinating.

When it came to the card games, I haven’t actually played cards for twenty years. But I do know how the standard games work and I researched online to get the terminology right. I also spent a lot of time watching card-trick buskers in the city and asking them questions, such as how long they’d practiced to develop their skills, and why they first got into playing with cards. They had no idea who I was, but they were always very generous with their time and answers.

In other words, the research for this book was definitely great fun.

What do you love about crime and speculative fiction as genres? Do you have any favourite novels you’d like to share? Why do you love them?

Speculative fiction is my first love. It’s what I grew up reading and where I feel most comfortable. Even when I’m writing “real world” stories, such as The Wildcard, there’s usually some speculative element of them, such as in this case the card playing subculture with its twisting rules and underground organisation and elaborate player hierarchy of ranked power.

But I do love all genres and I love playing with genre when I write. That is, understanding what the genre expectations are, and something of what the audience will bring to the text when they’re reading, and then either supporting or subverting that in order to tell the best story.

As for favourite novels … that’s a massive question to ask a lifelong reader and writer! My all-time favourites are classics, actually—The Count of Monte Cristo and Jane Eyre have long been tied for my favourite ever novels. They both touch on the gothic and the dark, they’re both very subversive novels in their own ways, with complicated, flawed characters and twisting plots, and most of all, they’re rollicking good tales.

As for more modern favourites … that depends on what I’m reading on any given week, but I’ll tell you what I’m currently reading and loving: The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt and The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel.

What’s next for you on the writing horizon?

I have a book coming out next year, a Western with a feminist twist—a stranger rides into a highly authoritarian town and she shakes things right up.

I’m also mid-draft on a couple of other works-in-progress: a speculative fiction novel set amid the urban decay of a near-future city verging on post-literacy, about the ways we use stories to understand ourselves and each other. And a quirky murder mystery set in an academic library overnight, with poisoned books and obsessive librarians, with an unconventional love story at its centre.

Thanks so much for your interview, Kathryn!

You can read more about Kathryn’s novel here with The Wildcard available for purchase in all good eBook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

Kathryn is a Melbourne writer of speculative and thriller fiction with a taste for blending dark genres in twisting ways. Her short fiction has been published in several anthologies and magazines, including Aurealis and Midnight Echo. When not writing, she works in archives, libraries and records management, and has a couple of small children to keep her busy. The Wildcard is her debut novel.

Your bio describes you as a ‘genre mashing’ writer for both children and adults. Can you talk a bit about what that term means and how it manifests in your work?

Hi Maureen. Thanks so much for having me on your blog. While I’m probably best known for my dark fiction, I don’t necessarily like to pigeon hole myself purely as a writer of horror, as I write across a variety of genres and readerships. Many of my longer works blend themes and elements that would be more traditionally found in other genres or tropes, and I try to play against expectations. That said, the great thing about horror is it’s such a beautifully flexible and versatile genre, you can mix it up it with anything!

You’ve written flash fiction, short stories, poetry and a novel (also with IFWG). What appeals to you about each medium? Is there one that’s a particular favourite (if so, why)? 

I love poetry in all its formats. From traditional, to experimental, ballad, free verse, and other classic or contemporary forms and structures—poetry engenders creative and complex vehicles to carry and convey big themes, emotions, ideas, or narratives.

I cut my teeth on short stories. As a teen, I was obsessed with horror anthologies and collections, and when I first started out, I wanted to write the types of stories I enjoyed reading. Experiencing such intimacy from the briefest encounters … I wanted to emulate that which I found so artful. Short stories are my first love, and probably always will be.

Novels draw on a different set of skills.  While some schools of thought suggest short story writing is the more difficult form to master, I find the stamina and macro-level view required for longer works can sometimes be challenging.  Novel-length works have seen me ride a wave of learning and development—I doubt that will change. When do writers ever stop learning?—but I feel with every draft I get stronger, and my voice more confident.

Flash fiction … now there’s a tonne of fun! Good flash takes a bit of practice to pull off. You still need characterisation and a plot thread to keep your reader interested. Form matters, and every word counts. I’ve found flash fiction to be a great medium for honing my editing skills!

Your latest publication, collection Coralesque and Other Tales to Disturb and Distract, is a collection of dark and weird fiction. What appeals to you about the horror genre? Do you have any favourite works you’d like to recommend that inspire you? 

To me, horror in its various forms is art. It’s such a great vehicle to highlight the many different aspects of the human experience, which is a perennial source of fascination to me. Numerous literary works are informed by the various elements and tropes of horror, and I think this just highlights the versatility and importance of horror.

I’ve got heaps of favourites! I’m going to miss out on so many here, because I could seriously waffle on for ages, but off the top of my head some horror / dark fantasy / spec fic works that have stayed with me for either their emotional impact, lasting resonance, or beautiful writing are: Sea Hearts by Margo Lanagan, Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon, The Fisherman by John Langan, We Have Always Lived in The Castle by Shirley Jackson, The Long Walk by Stephen King (Writing as Richard Bachman), Singing My Sister Down by Margo Lanagan, Mr Lupescu by Anthony Boucher, Sky by Kaaron Warren, The Green Ribbon by Alvin Schwartz … so many more!

It seems like the ocean is a recurrent motif in your work (your novel features the ocean and this new collection’s cover features coral). Why do you think the ocean speaks to you and keeps cropping up in your work?

I have always had an affinity with the ocean. I don’t think I could ever move to a non-coastal setting. The ocean is not only beautiful and soothing, unyielding and enigmatic, it can be terrifying and powerful and unpredictable. It is also stuffed with the most fascinating alien-like creatures, many of which I am sure we’re yet to discover. This was the partial inspiration for my middle grade fantasy adventure Curtis Creed and the Lore of the Ocean (also published by IFWG) – mysterious undersea creatures with their own lore and war, hidden from humans for centuries.

I guess, thematically, the rhythm of the ocean translates to the rhythms of life—the ebbs and flows, the highs and lows, the power and the passion, the calm and the chaos.

Did you write any new stories/poems for Coralesque and Other Tales to Disturb and Distract or are they all reprints? How much input did you have in the story selection process?

There are four new stories in this collection, with the bulk made up by reprints distilled from the course of approximately a decade. When I initially pitched the collection to Gerry Huntman at IFWG Publishing, he astutely recognised that new material would make for a more appealing collection, and, more importantly, was expected by readers. He requested I add new work, and we agreed upon a deadline. I’m really pleased he did, because it gave me the opportunity to work on some stories that had been buzzing around my head for a while, as well as discovering completely new material.

What’s your favourite story in the collection and why? 

That’s actually quite a difficult question to answer! I like The Pedlar very much, his character and storyline were so enjoyable to write. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a writing process more!

When I was around nine years old, my father introduced me to one of his favourite childhood reads The Little Round House by Marion St John-Webb. Among the many beautifully crafted characters that bring The Little Round House to life is a charmingly roguish pedlar. He’s stayed with me all these years and I channelled a little of his energy to shape the ne’er-do-well in my story, Calypso Reeves.

I also like Casting Nets—I could see protag Tino’s village and surrounds vividly—and The Little One. The Little One is one of the new stories that feature in Coralesque and Other Tales to Disturb and Distract, and is the longest, sitting at novelette length. It’s dark, and it’s brutal, but it felt “right” in  the writing.

In his wonderful introduction to my collection, Steve Paulsen describes The Little One as “… fairy tale-like, but with teeth. Razor sharp teeth. This is the story of Sable and her sister Carmine who work in the Queen’s kitchen, and of the “forbidden” love shared by Carmine and her partner Lizbette. But it’s also about the abuse of power and privilege, cruelty and brutal violence, and bloody revenge. Fraser takes the tropes, imagery, and beauty of fairy tales, and serves them up with a generous dose of darkness to weave something fresh and resonant; a powerful, haunting tale of love and revenge that will linger long after the story is finished.”

Tell us a bit about your StoryCraft Creative Writing Workshops. Is mentoring other writers important to you? What got you started in this area? It seems like you are passionate about supporting young writers especially. Do you want to talk a bit about that?

Thanks for asking about StoryCraft, Maureen. StoryCraft Creative Writing Workshops started as a passion project for me in 2017. I’d always dreamed of facilitating writing workshops for beginner writers, as they were something I benefitted from enormously when I first started taking my writing seriously.

When I completed my MA, I thought the time was right, and started presenting workshops to aspiring authors of every age and ability across the Mornington Peninsula and beyond. I run workshops on various elements of craft and industry for children and adults in schools, libraries, community centres, festivals, and home school environments. I’ve also been presenting for G.A.T.E.Ways (gifted and talented primary-aged children), and greatly enjoy working with children on the spectrum or with specific learning disorders such as dyslexia, who are wildly imaginative and talented, but sometimes lack the confidence or resources to express their creativity through narrative.

I’ve also recently embarked on a new project Little Stories, Big Ideas with friend and fellow author, Joe Novella, which aims to elevate the literary voices of ‘Generation Next’ through a free-to-enter flash writing competition for secondary school students all around Australia. A different topical and relevant theme each Term invites youth to respond to the prompt in any way they like, expressing their ideas about the world around them. We’ve been completely blown away by the quality and creativity of the entries.

What’s next on the writing horizon? 

I really wish I were a faster writer! I’ve got two half-complete manuscripts to finish this year (one a junior fiction contemporary novel with not a speculative element in sight! The other a space western).

Once I’ve finished these two projects, I’ll allow myself to think about the other ideas that are swirling through my head:  Two novella-length horror stories, a standalone middle grade novel, and a sci fi novel I wrote back in the early 2000’s – a bad first draft of a good idea (hopefully) that needs a full rewrite. I’m also slowly compiling stories for a new short story collection. Phew!

Thanks for chatting today, Rebecca! You can read more about her latest collection here with the book available to buy in all good ebook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

Rebecca Fraser is an award-nominated Australian author whose fiction and poetry has appeared in numerous anthologies, magazines, and journals. Her first novel Curtis Creed and the Lore of the Ocean was released in 2018, and her collection Coralesque and Other Tales to Disturb and Distract in 2021 (both through IFWG Publishing Australia). Rebecca holds a MA in Creative Writing, and a Certificate of Publishing (Copy Editing & Proofreading). To provide her muse with life’s essentials Rebecca copywrites and edits in a freelance capacity and operates StoryCraft Creative Writing Workshops … however her true passion is storytelling. Say G’day at writingandmoonlighting.com or Twitter/Insta @becksmuse.

Here’s the blurb to kickstart the interview:

Nobody likes you when you’re the ugly new kid. A hoodie and a new foster home won’t hide the creeping dread that you are dangerous. So, when you’re offered the chance to meet a grandfather you never knew, you jump on a plane to the bush-covered mountains of New Zealand. 

Slate longs for a home when he finds himself living among an ancient race masquerading as travelling performers. Dispossessed and disillusioned, Slate fears being trapped in a life hiding from the world; one his own father had to run from.

However, the decision to stay or leave is taken from him when he is held captive by hunters on the trail of the ultimate game trophy. Tortured and alone Slate fears that the only way to escape is to become the monster he never wanted to be.

And welcome, Piper!

Tell us a bit about the impetus for Dispossessed.

In some ways, the novel is autobiographical. Not that I am exactly like one of the creatures in the story, but the main setting (the hill), characters (travellers) and even some plot points (being an outsider) parallel my own childhood. When I first decided to write the novel, I was also inspired by the picture books that I was reading to my own children, where monsters were the people and people were the monsters.

Are there any comparison titles you’d compare Dispossessed to?

I definitely drew inspiration from Frankenstein (a product of his environment) as well as Dracula (a hidden danger). But I was also inspired by general fiction aimed at teenagers, stories of regular kids dealing with loss and identity. As an English teacher, I try to keep up with popular titles, which continue to be stories of growing up and finding happiness in yourself.

You’re known as a writer of horror and science fiction, but Dispossessed doesn’t sound like it’s strictly in either genre (the publisher classifies it as young adult urban fantasy). Did you find ways to work elements of horror and/or sci fi into the story? Have you written in the urban fantasy sub-genre before or was this the first time? Did the story come easily too you or was it difficult at first? 

Ironically, Dispossessed was the first thing I ever wrote with an aim to have published, but after writing it I realised that I did not know how to write well enough and so spent the next 10 years learning my craft through short horror. Inspired by Isabel Allende, my short stories include elements of magical realism rather than science fiction, which is why it is considered speculative horror. My first collection The Better Sister, (published by Breach in 2020) contains 9 short stories that explore the trio sister relationship (I am one of three sisters), which is a motif we see repeated throughout literature.

I am used to people discussing my writing as not the horror they expect, but rather a disturbing feminist lens on the horror people inflict on themselves and the people they are supposed to care about. I guess that I feel that real horror is the terrible things that people do to each other so even though this novel is classed as an urban fantasy, it contains the same elements as my short stories, people being cruel to people just because they believe they can get away with it.

What did you find challenging about writing the novel? How did you overcome them?

The main challenge with writing Dispossessed was not ideas, I have hundreds of ideas, and it wasn’t even time as though I work full time, I make time to write. The real challenge was keeping faith in that what I was writing was worth the time and effort. It is not that I was crippled by doubt but rather that I am in love with good writing, and I wanted my novel to be engaging despite any faults. Fortunately, by joining Tauranga Writers in 2010 and Spec Fic NZ shortly after, I became a part of a wider community of writers who were, and continue to be, outstandingly supportive. They give crucial critic and a much need kick when I need it. Without them, especially Lee Murray, I would have never published a single word, let alone a novel that I am so proud of.

You’ve done a lot of work with YoungNZWriters. Tell us a bit about your advocacy work and why it’s important (as well as maybe how people can get involved). Do you think doing so much work with young people helped you write Dispossessed’s young protagonist, Slate? How?

In 2011, a good friend of mine (author Lee Murray) and I were discussing the lack of opportunities to be mentored when we were young. As with many authors we had started writing very young but had never been told that we could be writers. So, right then and there we decided to form Young NZ Writers with the aim of providing mentorship and opportunities to be published for Intermediate and Secondary School students.

10 years later we have had:

·       23 free-to-enter national writing competitions, including intermediate, secondary, and youth laureate novel events, ranging from 375 entries to almost 1000, and involving as many as 236 schools annually.

·       1 national book cover competition for junior artists and 1 regional primary school art and writing competition.

·       19 national youth publications, including one award-winning anthology and two novels.

·       a dedicated website for New Zealand youth writers, receiving around 400 unique hits daily.

·       6 national Youth Day Out workshop events (with up to 258 students in attendance)

·       1 virtual webinar event (2020), which received more than 1000 unique hits daily in its first month of release.

·       4 free teacher professional development workshops (including several teacher scholarships to lower barriers to attendance)

·       numerous school visits and book launch celebrations

·       ongoing mentorship of youth writers

·       more than a thousand book prizes delivered to students over the past decade.

·      numerous graduates of our programme have gone on to study creative writing at tertiary level, becoming writers and poets themselves.

Running YNZW has meant hundreds of hours of rewarding work, and though I have enjoyed every minute of it I cannot say it has helped my writing. In fact, the biggest influencers of my writing have been my children and my students, who continue to inspire me every day.

In past interviews, you’ve mentioned a tendency to write about women to challenge narratives of society that are white male dominated. Slate is a male protagonist. What made you decide to go with a male lead? Are there ways you explore women and feminism and/or dominant narratives of power in the Western world in Dispossessed? 

When I wrote Dispossessed Siren had been my protagonist, but I quickly realised that she was not angry enough at the world nor did she have any specific adversary to overcome. Slate on the other hand, is an amalgamation of the many young men I have taught over the years and I couldn’t see how he could ever be female. So, it was definitely a conscious decision not to have a female protagonist. I was also conscious of falling into the trinity trope of one girl and two guys, but in this case, it is their cousinship that creates the bond between Siren and Slate. A deeper discussion around feminism would take too long, however, if we agree it is the advocacy for equity then this novel is that, the characters’ advocate for their own voices to be heard, to be accepted as who they are, to accept themselves and the lives they choose to live.

What kind of research did you do for the novel? The blurb mentions foster homes, remote bush covered mountains, hunters and travelling performers. Did you do any particular research on these topics? Did any real life experiences of your own come into and/or influence the novel?

I grew up with travellers, people who lived in house trucks and waggons pulled by Clydesdales. My parents’ friends were painters, potters (which included my mother), and  bone carvers; people who lived off the land, lived communally and bartered for goods and services. My dad gave lectures on sustainable living at festivals like Nambassa and Sweetwater and for a brief period of my life I rode my horse 3 kms out of the bush to catch the bus to school.

As for foster homes, both as a child and as a teacher I have known way too many young people who have been in and out of foster care, passed around like an unwanted parcel, a situation that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It is these young people who keep me grounded as a teacher, reminding me that my priorities are not theirs. To be honest, it is their stories, the ones they are willing to share which are at the core of everything I write, my short horror and the novel Dispossessed.

This is just a bit of fun, but in your bio you mentioned laughing as a kid at horror films and that you still enjoy them now despite the many plot holes. What are some of your fave bad horror films (and chuck in some good ones too if you have some)?

As a teenager, my sister, Toka, and I would stay up late to watch the Sunday Night Horrors and Tales from the Crypt. I loved Elvira so much that I gave my eldest daughter Elvira as her middle name. The ones that stick with me are some written by Ray Bradbury, like the hikers that are turned into soup in a hot tub or the woman who is killed by her creature brooch. As an adult my absolute favourite is Cabin in the Woods. To me these are fun to watch as they are so far from reality, whereas in my own writing, I try to keep it to stories which are possible but not probable.

If I can mention, there are three movies that are touchstones to my own writing. The first is Seven (a movie that my sister Becky is still angry at me for convincing her to watch), the second is Shallow Grave and the third is The Last Supper. Of the three only Seven is classified as (neo-noir psychological thriller) horror, whereas the last two are considered black comedy, but to me they are so scary because they are possible. The terrible things people do to each other can only be horror.

What’s next for you on the writing horizon? Is Dispossessed a standalone or will it have a sequel?

The world I built for Dispossessed has room for other stories, of which I have plotted at least two more. However, I dip in and out of that world and into a completely new genre – space opera – it is a lot of fun but I’m not sure if I’m skilled enough to pull it off yet. In addition to these novels, I have two more collections of short stories that I am slowly putting together, one aimed at teenagers and another one for adults. Unlike my first collection which was a standalone project, the stories for these collections are coming out of various short story competitions that I enter but never win. I figure I only need another year to have enough stories to publish.

Sounds great, Piper! Readers, you can learn more about Dispossessed at the publisher’s website here. The novel will be released in Australia/UK/Europe/NZ 5 April 2021, and North America 15 April 2021 and will be available in all good ebook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

Piper Mejia is an advocate for New Zealand writers and literature. ­Her short fiction ­has been ­published ­in ­a range of magazines and anthologies, including Room Enough for Two, which appeared in the Sir Julius Vogel Award winning anthology Te Korero Ahi Ka ­(2018).­ A ­collection of her original short stories,­ The Better Sister,­ was published ­by ­Breach ­in 2020. ­In addition to ­writing, ­Piper is a ­founding member of Young­NZ­Writers ­–­ a non profit organisation dedicated ­to providing writing and publishing opportunities for young writers.­ As ­a child,­ Piper ­stayed up ­late laughing at horror films.­ As an adult,­ she has never lost her love for science fiction and horror,­ two genres that continues to ask the question “What if…”

Tool Tales is a unique chapbook project involving unsettling black and white images and tales of micro-fiction. How did this project begin? Who had the idea first?  

Ellen: Back in the spring 2016 I had a break between projects and decided to photograph some of the antique tools I’ve collected over the years. Kaaron volunteered to write teeny tales to go with each tool and we decided to post what we initially called “the tool project” on my Facebook page. Around #9 we both were becoming too busy with other work and decided to call it quits with the 10^th tool.  

Kaaron: I think Ellen was showing me photos of her latest find. She’d bought one when she came to Australia last and knew we had a shared fascination for old tools. She wanted to post them on Facebook but didn’t think anyone else would be interested, so I said, how about if I write a little story to go with each one?  

Ellen, how did you find the tools to use in the chapbook? What was it about them that spoke to you? Were there certain qualities you were looking for?

Ellen: I’ve been collecting weird tools for decades. So I just picked a few of the more photogenic and mysterious ones that lived on my window sills and radiator covers (in my old apartment – I’ve just moved and haven’t quite figured out where they will live over here).

How did this collaboration work and how long did the project take from beginning to end? 

Ellen: I photographed a tool and sent the photo to Kaaron, who created a fictional piece about that tool. Then I posted the tool and story on my Facebook page and if we didn’t know what the tool was for, we asked for opinions from the crowd. We started work in mid-April 2016 and finished by end of July 2016. So only three and a half months. 

Were there any challenges in this project? What were they and how did you overcome them? 

Kaaron: One of the beautiful things about this project is that it flowed. It wasn’t a struggle for either of us, and for me at least it provided much needed inspiration and a chance to get my words working again. There was something freeing about not have rules and restrictions. I think Ellen had lots of fun finding the next challenging tool for me! 

Ellen: Yup-choosing a mysterious tool was a fun challenge.

Why micro-fiction? What do you think is fun/ interesting/ positive/ unique about the medium?

Kaaron: I really love micro-fiction and have been writing it for years. My Year 12 writing assessment was a series of them. I love the challenge of fitting all that story into such a tiny place, and the freedom of not having to explain things! For this project, we knew that we were working with limited attention spans, via people scrolling on Facebook, so wanted the stories to be almost as quick to absorb as the photos.

Ellen: Also, I didn’t want Kaaron to spend too much time on something that was just meant to be fun while we both had some free time.

Kaaron, how did you find the process of responding to Ellen’s images? Did some micro-fictions come easier than others? What was it about the project and about Ellen’s images that inspired you? 

Kaaron: With each of them, I went off first impressions and wrote down what came to mind. Then I worked on the words and the stories, to make sure I wasn’t inflicting stream of consciousness on people! Ellen and I have been ‘thrift store buddies’ for a long time, sharing fun things we’ve found. She took me to a flea market when I was in New York City, and I took her to the tip when she was in Canberra! We’re both engaged with objects and the stories they tell. 

There’s an interesting quote at the start of the chapbook. What made you choose it? Do you feel like there’s an overarching theme running through the chapbook? 

Kaaron: It wasn’t something I’d known forever, waiting for an opportunity to use it, more that we wanted a quote at the start and so I looked around until I found one that seemed to fit! I think it does represent an underlying theme of the book, which is indeed that we are shaped by the tools we are given. The chapbook is this at a surface level, and I never intended my words to have a secondary meaning, but I think in the end they do. 

Would you do a similar project again i.e.. where one person selected images and the other responded with micro-fiction? If so, what kind of images do you think you’d go with this time? 

Ellen: I’d be up for it if I have time. I’d already curated one other project with an artist along these lines back in 2015: commissioning flash fiction to go with his art images. It was for an exhibition and it was used as a catalog for the show.  

Kaaron: I loved that project! Viktor Koen’s work is just amazing. I have a framed print of the picture I wrote a story for. I’d definitely be up for another project like this one. The past, present and future of objects is endlessly inspirational. 

Thanks so much for your time Kaaron and Ellen! Readers, you can purchase the Tool Tales chapbook direct from the publisher here or from all good eBook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

More about the creators of Tool Tales:

Ellen Datlow has been editing sf/f/h short fiction for four decades. She was fiction editor of OMNI Magazine and SCIFICTION and currently acquires short stories and novellas for Tor.com and Nightfire. She has edited many anthologies for adults, young adults, and children, including The Best Horror of the Year series and Echoes: The Saga Anthology of Ghost Stories, Final Cuts: New Tales of Hollywood Horror and Other Spectacles, and the reprint anthologies Edited By and Body Shocks. She’s won multiple Locus, Hugo, Stoker, International Horror Guild, Shirley Jackson, and World Fantasy Awards plus the 2012 Il Posto Nero Black Spot Award for Excellence as Best Foreign Editor. Datlow was named recipient of the 2007 Karl Edward Wagner Award, given at the British Fantasy Convention for “outstanding contribution to the genre” and was honored with the Life Achievement Award given by the Horror Writers Association, in acknowledgment of superior achievement over an entire career and honored with the World Fantasy Life Achievement Award at the 2014 World Fantasy Convention. She runs the Fantastic Fiction at KGB reading series in the east village, NYC, with Matthew Kressel.

Shirley Jackson award-winner Kaaron Warren published her first short story in 1993 and has had fiction in print every year since. She was recently given the Peter McNamara Lifetime Achievement Award and was Guest of Honour at World Fantasy 2018, Stokercon 2019 and Geysercon 2019. Kaaron was a Fellow at the Museum for Australian Democracy, where she researched prime ministers, artists and serial killers.

She has published five multi-award winning novels (Slights, Walking the Tree, Mistification, The Grief Hole and Tide of Stone) and seven short story collections, including the multi-award winning Through Splintered Walls. She has won the ACT Writers and Publishers Award four times and twice been awarded the Canberra Critics Circle Award for Fiction. Her most recent novella, Into Bones Like Oil (Meerkat Press) is on the Final Ballot for the Stoker Award, the Recommended Reading List for Locus and the Aurealis Award Shortlist.

Shirley Jackson award-winner Kaaron Warren published her first short story in 1993 and has had fiction in print every year since. She was recently given the Peter McNamara Lifetime Achievement Award and was Guest of Honour at World Fantasy 2018, Stokercon 2019 and Geysercon 2019. Kaaron was a Fellow at the Museum for Australian Democracy, where she researched prime ministers, artists and serial killers. She’s judged the World Fantasy Awards and the Shirley Jackson Awards.

She has published five multi-award winning novels (Slights, Walking the Tree, Mistification, The Grief Hole and Tide of Stone) and seven short story collections, including the multi-award winning Through Splintered Walls. She has won the ACT Writers and Publishers Award four times and twice been awarded the Canberra Critics Circle Award for Fiction. Her most recent novella, Into Bones Like Oil (Meerkat Press), was shortlisted for a Shirley Jackson Award and the Bram Stoker Award, winning the Aurealis Award.

In the ‘about’ section of your website, you say you wrote a novel at 14 called ‘skin deep’ which you need to type up. What sort of story was it and have the ideas in it shown up elsewhere in your writing? How? 

I have typed it up now! This story was hugely inspired by The Outsiders, and followed a very similar story line. Two groups in suburban Melbourne battle it out. I moved beyond this kind of realist fiction into horror and science fiction, for a number of reasons, but I’m still looking at the way we treat each other and the way we judge each other at face value. 

What appeals to you about speculative fiction, particularly horror, as a genre? What do you think makes you keep coming back to that horror space?

I love that anything is possible in spec fic. In horror, this means I can explore the afterlife and ghosts, think about what happens to us when we die, and look at crime and punishment in a new way. I keep coming back to horror partly out of habit now! But it’s also because that’s where a story tends to lead me. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always been fascinated with the darker side of life, and I’m not a fan of contrived happy endings, so I think that’s a part of it.

In November 2020, Screen Canberra announced development funding to adapt your excellent novel, The Grief Hole, into a film. Are you able to say anything about that project and where it’s at? What’s your role in the collaboration and how are you finding the experience? 

This is such an exciting adventure! Josh Koske approached me a couple of years ago, having read The Grief Hole. He saw the filmic possibilities in it and wanted to have a go at making that happen. He’s the main scriptwriter, with me helping as far as elements of character and plot. I’m really loving the experience. It makes me look at my work from a different angle and really forces me to re-examine why I did the things I did on the page. Once you start to collaborate, the work changes, as does the story. We’re having lots of cool discussions about motivations and that sort of thing. I’ll keep you posted on developments! 

You’ve lived in Melbourne, Sydney, Canberra and even Fiji for three years (aside: what were you doing there and please tell me more). How does place come into your story-telling (whether through theme, setting or something else)?  

Place is absolutely vital. You absorb the atmosphere of a place you’re in, even if it’s only a visit. The sounds, the smells, the sights. All of that imbues my work. In Fiji, the air is different, and the colours. We were there as part of the diplomatic corps, an amazing experience in itself. I got the chance to make friends with people from all over the world, and to connect with Fijians as well. I explored the streets and shops of Suva, ate food I’d never eaten before, had amazing conversations with fascinating people. It was an unforgettable experience. 

And now let’s talk about Slights. Here’s the blurb for those unfamiliar with this novel:

When Stevie Searle almost dies in the accident that kills her mother, she doesn’t see a shining path or a golden light. Instead, she sees everyone she’s ever slighted, waiting to take a piece of her in a cold, dark room. The person whose place she took in the queue, the schoolmate she cheated off, the bus driver she didn’t pay? All waiting. All wanting to take their revenge when she finally crosses over.

Stevie is fascinated by the dark room so she sends herself there again.

And again.

And Again.

Slights is a re-print of one of your novels (first published 2009) and features a pretty disturbing protagonist. Can you tell us a bit about how the idea for that novel started and how you created Stevie (and coped with being inside her head haha). 

It was a really intense six months or so, living in Stevie’s head. The first draft was written with a grant for the ACT Government, so I was at home writing solidly for that time. I’d never done that before (apart from a couple of weeks here and there) and I think that total focus helped the intensity of the character.  

Stevie was really created out of the concept that hell is a place where everyone you’ve ever slighted is waiting to take a piece of you. I can’t remember how I came up with that idea! But I wrote it as a short story first, then realised I wanted to tell the story of all of those slighted people, so it needed to be a longer work. Once I started to tell their stories, Stevie began to emerge. Each slight helped build her as a person. 

I wrote the book three or four times. The final version I completed in Fiji, when my kids were little. So I had that weird situation where I was in Stevie’s head during school hours, then slipping back into my own real life when the kids were home! 

Is there a favourite/interesting passage from Slights you could share to tease readers?

I do have lots of favourite bits! There are scary bits and funny bits and sad bits. Part of what I wanted to create around Stevie was a sense of loneliness, even though she has people who care about her.

SO here’s a funny little bit. It’s an essay Stevie writes at school!

The Sacking of Troy

by S. Searle
There are great things afoot in the workings of mankind. Only one man can save the day and it is always a strong man, a good man, a man who shows up on time to work and does not take sickies. A man who has only one girlfriend at a time and does not keep three women waiting while he performs nebulous duties. This man is always honest. This man does not steal food from his employer.

This man is not Troy.

Troy got his job at Woolworths because his big brother worked there for years and was now head manager of the cigarette booth.

Brad had an attendance record which was being noticed in high circles, and he never blew his nose on his sleeve. He was popular because he was going places and there was always a chance he would give out free cigarettes when the floor manager took her tea break.

Brad looked good in his short red coat. He had a smile which was quite believable and a laugh which didn’t shock anybody.

There was no reason to think his little brother Troy would be any different.

Brad knew, but he was under the control of his mother, who insisted Troy be given a chance. She could not see Troy in the light everyone else saw him in, because he was charming and he gave her kisses still, although he was fifteen.

The Starting of Troy caused a stir of anticipation. The customers were no cause for gossip – only the ones who liked to catch the cashiers out in errors. They received slow, painstaking service. The best gossip to be had was about each other.

Troy arrived with sunglasses on, greasy hair, sandshoes. Brad received a word of warning; had he not drilled the dress-code into his brother?

Troy wore scuffed school shoes the next day and declared that his ignorance of the difference between a Naval orange and a Valencia would remain just that.

He began to feel besieged the next day when he did not properly pack a customer’s bags, and he lashed out. Brad was called to speak with him.

“Troy, you must be careful. The people here are very unforgiving. They don’t like temper or any other emotion. Perhaps if you were in Paris things would be different, because the French are a passionate race. But you are here, where we are dispassionate, and you must abide by the laws, however unfair or invasive you find them.”

On his next shift, Troy was discovered having sex with Diana, who had gone out the back for a cigarette and been surprised.

“What can I say? He’s built like a horse. I could hardly resist.”

With that, Troy was sacked.

THE END

What’s next on the writing horizon?  

I’ve had some good story sales this year so far, but not sure they are all announced yet! I’ve written stories set in a failed world, stories set 5000 metres in the sky, stories set in mythical pubs about cursed brooches. All out this year, I hope! 

I’ve got the next two re-releases coming from IFWG. Walking the Tree and Mistification. Really looking forward to having those out in the world again! 

Thanks so much for sharing with us today, Kaaron! You can read more about the book at the publisher’s website with Slights available for purchase in all good ebook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

Venero Armanno is the author of ten critically acclaimed novels, including his recent book Burning Down (2017). His other well-known books include Black Mountain (2012), The Dirty Beat (2007) and Candle Life (2006). Further back, Veny’s novel Firehead was shortlisted in the 1999 Queensland Premier’s Literary Award; in 2002 The Volcano won the award with Best Fiction Book of the Year. His work has gone on to be published in the United States, France, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Holland, Israel and South Korea.

His latest novel, The Crying Forest, enters the realm of speculative fiction. Agata Rosso, a once-mighty yet now prematurely aged European witch, believes that the special gifts in a young girl named Lía Munro can restore youth and vitality both to herself and her bedridden husband. She sets a deadly plan in motion to capture and use Lía-but will the girl have enough power to protect herself, plus the father she loves so much?

Without further ado, welcome Venero!

On your Wikipedia page, it states you wrote 10 unpublished novels over 14 years before getting picked up. What made you keep going and do you have any advice for other writer hopefuls still struggling to get published? Have any of those unpublished novels been picked up since?

So yes, that’s true, I did write a lot of novels before having something published. I was young enough in those days to think I could do anything, so I launched in when I was 17/18 and started writing a horror vampire novel that I was sure would bring me instant fortune and fame. When that didn’t happen I realised I knew less than zero and that there was a long learning road ahead if I was to take this thing called writing seriously. However, still being young, I thought I could teach myself what I needed to know and do this by writing non-stop.

That part of the idea was good, but I set myself the formidable task of writing a novel a year until one got published. A novel a year doesn’t leave room for a lot of rewriting but that was part of my ignorance – I’d dash off 80 to 100,000 words, over the course of a calendar year, spend a week or two polishing what I had, then would start sending the ms off to every publisher I could find in the telephone book. This was in the late 70s into the end of the 80s, so there was no Internet, everything was hard copy on a typewriter with lots of time spent at photocopy machines and in post offices. Anyway, once I’d finish a ms I’d start on the next. I seemed to have no problem with new ideas, though maybe the ideas weren’t all that good. I wrote in any number of genres.

Once I got through my Stephen King phase, I had my Fitzgerald, Greene, Hemingway, Cheever… you understand what I mean. Rejections came thick and fast but to specifically answer your question here, what kept me going was a lot of fear – I dreaded being either stuck in an office job or spending the rest of my life working as a bricklayer’s labourer, which is what I had to do in my teens and twenties. Probably a more important point is that some rejections would have a nice note attached to it: “We can’t publish this ms but we like your writing so please send us your next book.” I recall I had lots of messages like that, so if an aspiring writer needs any greater encouragement, then they’re probably not all that serious about their craft and should think about something else. 

So any advice I might have for aspiring writers is along the lines of what I wrote above – keep persisting, keep trying. Don’t worry about time. Don’t want it all straight away. You might take years to find your true voice, something that’s original and new and completely yours. That’s what publishers are after – a new voice. You’ve got a lot to learn so give yourself every opportunity to learn it. Early success only comes to a few, and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong in taking a longer road – because you want a writing career that is a very long road anyway, with strong foundations. That takes time and effort and every shortcut short-changes you.

Most of my unpublished mss deserve every bit of their non-publication, though I have a soft spot for the first one. It’s about a Sicilian-migrant-vampire who has an underground lair at a university and who kills students by night. In the end he gets bored with his life (i.e. I got bored with the book) and so commits suicide. Now, I’ve never read a book about a Sicilian-migrant-vampire who commits suicide. Somebody should publish it! Of the other books two did get published but in new forms. These mss became Strange Rain and My Beautiful Friend, two books that did very well, but they changed a hell of a lot from the drafts I’d first written in the 80s.

In addition to writing, you’re also a teacher at the University of QLD. How does teaching affect and inform your writing work and vice versa, particularly with your latest, The Crying Forest? 

I won’t complain because I love my job and I’m very happy to have it, but of course it certainly takes up most of my time – meaning I have less time to write. This could be a good thing actually; maybe it’s better to be forced to slow down, though I would have liked to have written more books over the last twenty years that I’ve been at UQ. Having said that, though, teaching creative writing forces me to engage more with the form – to really think about what I’m doing and how. It also gives me a direct look at readers i.e. students who love reading. Why do they read? What are they reading? Which books do they avoid like the plague? All of this is really interesting for a writer. It’s true that a teacher can learn more from their students than vice versa.

You’ve written novels for adults, young adults and children, as well as several short stories. How do you think trying out these different modes has shaped your writing, particularly your current novel?

I think writing short stories is one of the best ways possible to find your voice and to learn and improve your craft. The end of my little tale above about all my unpublished mss is that around 1988 someone said to me, “You spend a year or two writing entire novels that don’t get published… why don’t you try short stories instead?” It was a lightbulb moment. Yes indeed. Why not write short stories and send them out and get rejected (or maybe one day published) even faster? So then I embarked on a campaign of always having stories in the post to editors at whatever magazines or competitions I could find. That was my real start, when stories started being accepted and I started winning some prizes. My first published book was in fact a collection of these stories, Jumping at the Moon, not a novel.

This sort of writing experience does affect all my novels, including The Crying Forest. How? I think because it gives you the tools for shaping sub-plots into their own discreet arcs. The difference is that these sub-plots (which are stories in themselves really) have to feed into the main plot of course. However short story writing skills help you/me actually make those sub-plots so much stronger (I hope!).

You were born in Brisbane to Sicilian parents. Does that background influence your writing in any way, particularly with The Crying Forest? If so, how?

Yes, all my writing is informed by the migrant experience. Of my parents coming to this country when they were young (they met here and married) and me being a child of a father and mother who didn’t understand much about their new country at all. I’d be a completely different writer without these experiences, or, more likely, not a writer at all. It’s the outsider syndrome—growing up I never quite felt part of Australia even though I was born here. The family home was very Sicilian and the family and friend network was also almost purely Sicilian. So in a way it was as if I was new to this country as well: home was one world, outside of that was something completely different, and I really didn’t fit in. So as something of an outsider one becomes very observational: of everything around and also of the past, if I can put it that way.

Many of my books are based on Sicilian history and research, and The Crying Forest ultimately came together in the same way – I was researching something completely different and accidently came across myths and legends that weren’t Sicilian (but from the north, in Friuli) but that had resonances in Sicily. These legends had to do with witches and werewolves, and so my research deepened, leading me to think, well, Australia is a country of migrants, what if these legends had travelled across the seas with the migrant diaspora? That was really part of The Crying Forest’s germinal idea—and where I live, in an area that was once completely rural and has its own forest lands, felt like the perfect place to take up these mythologies.

Are there particular themes and ideas you return to again and again in your work? Why do you think that is? Do you revisit such ideas and themes in The Crying Forest?

As you might have gathered by now, recurring themes have to do with the migrant diaspora, leading to themes of loss and belonging—and, even, of the longing for the old world left behind. I’ve always felt sort of floating between two cultures – not quite part of one or the other, so that forces me back to writing inside these themes.

You’ve written in a diverse range of genres. What sort of books and authors inspire you and why? Are there stories you’d compare The Crying Forest to?

I think The Crying Forest is a sort of literary supernatural tale, in that characters’ emotions, their relationships and personal baggage really drive the plot—as well as a lot of “real” history. So I’d consider books in the same ballpark might be The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova and even The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. But that’s setting myself a very high bar!  A writer/reviewer I was just speaking to said the book reminded him very much of the writing my Peter Straub, and I can see that – If You Could See Me Now and Ghost Story in particular.

Writers who have had a huge impact on me I’ve already mentioned: from Stephen King to Graham Greene, F Scott Fitzgerald and Hemingway. I’d add Truman Capote, John Cheever, Raymond Carver, Oscar Hijuelos, Ray Bradbury (who I had the immense pleasure of meeting once, in a Parisian bookstore) and Haruki Murakami. In fact at present I’ve just been rereading The Illustrated Man, The Golden Apples of the Sun, The Martian Chronicles, plus The Wind-up Bird Chronicle and South of the Border, West of the Sun. I love going back to my literary heroes.

Tell us more about The Crying Forest. What inspired the novel?

In 2001, newly-married and with my wife Nic pregnant with our first (and only) child, we travelled from our rundown inner-city Queenslander-style home to see an even more rundown old house in an outer-west suburb I’d never even heard of. We went because we’d seen a picture of a house in the real estate pages of a newspaper, and I’d never seen anything like it. The place was like some Gothic old English country manor that a louche rock star would buy and fill with drugs, booze and groupies.

We discovered the place was located on land that once had been part of immense hectares of farming property. Built in 1932, it sits at the top of a small hill and was (and still is) nicely isolated. With all good sense thrown aside we bought the property and moved in.

Some people, tradespeople for instance, don’t like to be alone in our home; we however find it inviting and perfectly peaceful. It became the “red house”—Rosso House—of The Crying Forest. And that forest itself is nearby; overgrown trails are where I walk my dog almost every day. So, for that matter, is the wider fictional region the book calls “Grandview”.

So in terms of inspiring the novel, other than a very spooky home, an isolated property and endless state forest, another thing that informed this book were the wild packs of escaped dogs in our region, howling at night and raising hell, plus the proliferation of deer—an introduced species not native to the region. Dogs and deer wage their own battles. It all just seemed to cry out for a novel about the supernatural, and I’d wanted to write this book for years, even though it was well outside of my usual genres.

What was the hardest part of writing The Crying Forest? What was the easiest? Did you have to do any research?

All novels are hard, in their own way, even the ones that come pouring out. The Crying Forest did come pouring out… I wrote the first draft longhand in a series of notebooks, then revised and revised endlessly on my computer. The hardest part was finding the time to write. Work at the University can be very intense, and the more senior I become the less extra time I have. So there were a lot of 4am mornings, doing as much as I could before getting ready to head off by six or so.

There was plenty of research for this book, a process I always like very much. While reading texts about several things I wanted the book to touch on I came across information about Italian witches: this interested me because when I was growing up my parents would take me to our local Sicilian witch if I needed medical attention, not a traditional doctor. I remember this crazy old crone treating me for neck aches (which she made worse) and a broken finger (thanks to her, it’s still crooked). My parents used to talk about the way this woman’s potions could cure all manner of illnesses, and that she was more knowledgeable than any fool-doctor with medical training. Remembering her, I read more about witches (and werewolves) in Sicilian and Italian mythology, and in particular I discovered the Benandanti: 

“The benandanti (Good Walkers) were members of an agrarian visionary tradition in the Friuli district of Northeastern Italy during the 16th and 17th centuries. The benandanti claimed to travel out of their bodies while asleep to struggle against malevolent witches (malandanti) in order to ensure good crops for the season to come. Between 1575 and 1675, in the midst of the Early Modern witch trials, a number of benandanti were accused of being heretics or witches under the Roman Inquisition.” (from Wikipedia)

It really didn’t take too much imagination to put all these disparate elements together: house, forest, Italian folklore.

What do you think’s different about The Crying Forest to your other books? 

I’ve only published in the supernatural once before, with My Beautiful Friend in about 1995. So The Crying Forest is a real departure into witches and werewolves, and people with special powers.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’ve got two novels on the go which are more my own traditional sorts of works, but I’ve got more of The Crying Forest planned, if circumstances allow me to go that far. I’m not one for sequels but I feel like there are more stories to come from these characters, some really fascinating threads that I’d love to explore. The book is mainly set in Brisbane, Australia, however many of the characters are European—I’m excited to follow them into places like Rome, Sicily, Barcelona and Paris… you know what the writer’s imagination is like!

Thanks so much for your considered answers Venero! I’m pumped to read your novel now! For you readers out there keen too, you can read more about the novel here (and watch a cool book trailer). The Crying Forest is available for purchase in all good ebook and print outlets. It is distributed through Gazelle (UK/Europe), Novella (Australia) and IPG (North America).

From the blurb of Midnight in the Chapel of Love:

Jonny Trotter has spent the last fifteen years running from tragic memories of the country town where he grew up but now that his father has died, he can run no more. Returning to Waterwich for the funeral with his partner Sloane, Jonny must confront old resentments, his estranged best friends, a strange, veiled woman the locals call the White Widow and the mystery surrounding the fate of his first love.

A morbid and reckless city girl, Jessica Grzelak lived to push the limits and explore the shadows and no-one has seen her since the night she and Jonny went looking for the Chapel. Rumoured to be found in the woods outside Waterwich, mentioned in playground rhymes about local lovebirds Billy and Poppy and their killing spree in 1964, the Chapel is said to be an ancient, sacred place that can only be entered by lovers, a test that can only be passed if their bond is pure and true. Before he can move on to a future with Sloane, Jonny must first face the terrible truth of his past and if he can’t bring it out into the light at last, it might just pull him and everything he loves down into the dark, forever.

So now you’ve had a small intro to Matthew’s writing and life, let the interview begin …

In your bio, you mention a lot of different creative pursuits in your life, including filmography, photography, and musicianship. How do these interests influence your writing?

The more you see and do, the more experience you can pull from for your writing. I’m not a photographer, but spending so much time with a shutterbug (Meg Wright aka Red Wallflower Photography) has increased my interest in the craft and our exploration of abandoned locations has given me enough ideas for a novel on the subject; my love of song, and especially my time in bands, has proved a rich seam of inspiration for stories about music and musicians. I’m into many different artistic disciplines and they all feed into each other to give me a deep pool of experiences, and experience combined with imagination is all you really need to get those ideas flowing.

What’s your favourite short story that you’ve written and why?

That perfect tale I’m yet to write and probably never will. An artist spends their life striving to reach an ideal they can never truly articulate, but through that struggle, great work may be produced.

What speaks to you about the horror genre? Any other horror writers you’d recommend to readers?

I could write an essay or two answering that first question! In a nutshell: I love the freedom, the transgression, the imagination, the universality – not everyone’s been a spy or a detective or a selfish college lecturer who’s unnaturally appealing to beautiful young students, but everyone’s been afraid. And I guess I’ve always just been a bit morbid, because dark subject matter has always appealed to me.

My answer to the second question could just go on and on (and on), but in an effort to be succinct, I’ll limit myself to one old favourite, one modern master, and one new voice. Ramsey Campbell has been a big influence on me since my teenage years, and he’s essential reading for anyone with an interest in sophisticated chills; Laird Barron is an author I follow closely, and his blend of cosmic horror, hardboiled crime, and mind-bending weirdness is unparalleled; and Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth are terrifically enjoyable novels packed with necromancy, mordant humour, and unfettered imagination.

How important is the writing community to you? What kinds of support have you found on your writing journey?

I’m fairly solitary and insular as far as my craft goes – I don’t have a writing group or beta readers or anything like that. I sit in a room and I write and rewrite, and usually the editor of an anthology I’ve submitted to is the first person to set eyes on a story after myself. But I have made a lot of friends in the writing community, both locally and globally, and they’ve proven to be very supportive and helpful – decent, dependable, authentic people. And why wouldn’t they be? Our whole thing is making people up and seeing through their eyes, which requires a certain amount of sensitivity and empathy. Some writers do turn out to be raging arseholes, but the ones I know personally are thoughtful and caring individuals – especially the horror authors.

On the day I’m writing this, I went out for lunch with fellow Adelaide scribe Chris Mason and talked writing and writers for over four hours; Steve Dillon, who published my collection If Only Tonight We Could Sleep, has been a notably helpful figure in my nascent career and through him I’ve met a lot of delightful fellow authors; Scarlett R. Algee, the JournalStone editor who picked up Midnight in the Chapel of Love for publication, has proved an enthusiastic and understanding collaborator. I’m lucky to know these folk and all the rest, and I’m looking forward to meeting many more.

You’ve written and published a lot of short stories, including publishing a short story collection. Midnight in the Chapel of Love is your first novel. Was it hard getting into that novel writing space and do you have any tips for people trying to make the jump from short stories to novel writing?

It wasn’t hard at all, as I’ve been writing novels since I was in high school! This is merely the most recent I’ve written and the first one to actually be published. So as far as tips go, I’d say: if you plan on being a novelist, read widely and start writing novels as soon as you feel up to the challenge… and understand that your first few attempts will be terrible but highly educational. Then, just write and write until you finally crack it. I’ve written eight novels so far and half of them are unpublishable by my current standards. But I learned so much from writing them, and I’ll always love them for that.

Tell us more about Midnight in the Chapel of Love. What inspired the novel?

The initial inspiration came from listening to Something for Kate’s “The Fireball at the End of Everything” as I drove between Port Pirie and Adelaide one afternoon. There’s a line about a passenger putting their feet up on the dashboard and that got me thinking about a couple driving between the city and the country in the summer sun. I asked myself why they were doing this and decided they were heading back for a funeral, that the guy had grown up there and had a past he’d been fleeing for many years. Everything else fell into place after that over the course of the next six months or so, and then the writing began.

How do you think Midnight in the Chapel of Love is different to other books out there? (Give us your elevator pitch.)

“Midnight in the Chapel of Love takes the Australian Gothic by the nape of the neck and drives it deep into the dark, fathomless depths of cosmic awe!”

I don’t really know how this book is different, other than that it was written by me and other books are not, but I do feel it has something substantial to offer. There’s a lot going on under the surface of what appears to be a fairly straightforward mystery, and while the implications are chilling to contemplate, there’s more here than a simple horror story. I’m not trying to distance myself from genre at all – this is just one tale I wanted to tell a certain way, and while it’s intended to keep you guessing and make you shudder, it also turned out to be an examination of the small town/big city divide, variations of Australian masculinity, the intricacies of romantic love, and so much more.

Some friends recently asked me to describe the book and I said, “It’s like Picnic at Hanging Rock with more sex and drugs.” That’s a crassly simplistic and reductive answer, but they laughed and wanted to know more, so I guess that works, too!

What was the hardest part of writing your novel? What was the easiest? Did you have to do any research?

I suppose the hardest part was getting the plot elements to click seamlessly together. There are certain questions that plagued me throughout the writing and only found solid answers as I neared the end. The easiest part would have to be the actual writing – once I knew what I was doing and where I was headed, I could just kick into gear and let the words flow.

Research has become a very important part of my process, because I can’t bear the thought of someone more knowledgeable on a subject than me reading my work and thinking, “Pfft, that’s not how it is.” In this case, I had to look into a great many things – chart hits of the year 2000, post-WWII Polish history, what kind of radio a car in 1964 Australia would have, and so on. I read books on the Narungga people and Australian cave systems. I used to be a lazy researcher, but the advent of the internet means there is no excuse for that. Don’t be a Donny Didn’t-Look – Google that shit or check out a book, and make sure you’re getting it right.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’m trying to decide which of the short stories clamouring for my attention need to be written next and I’m plotting out two future novels, both of which are proving more complicated than I’d expected! I’m always looking for new opportunities to get my work out there in front of people, new ways to raise my profile.

Thanks for a fascinating interview, Matthew!

More about Midnight in the Chapel of Love …

Matthew R. Davis, winner of two 2019 Australian Shadows Awards, follows the well-received release of his first horror collection If Only Tonight We Could Sleep with the publication of his first novel, Midnight in the Chapel of Love, by JournalStone on January 29, 2021. The book is available for preorders through the publisher’s website with more options available soon. You can find Matthew at his own website here.

Well for starters, the red-gold leaf was as big as my face. Which is why it was kind of bad it stuck to my forehead, nose, mouth, chin like glue. I wrestled with it, and you’d think I’d have won easy-peasy on account of it being a tender sugar maple versus a boy, but it wouldn’t budge. I think I had a panic attack – certainly, it was hard to breathe, and I soon hated the taste of crisp bitterness and dirt mixing with saliva. I bashed into other trees in the national park (I’d gone for a picnic and wandered off), seeing blue stars behind my lids, none of which helped either. Falling in a heap, crying and a-shivering seemed the only thing to do.

That’s when the coven found me.

I should have expected something of that nature, living in New Orleans and all, but usually they’re fake new agey types rather than, you know, actual witches. These ones prodded, the wood bristles of their broom poking into my arm and chest as they whispered.

That’s when one drew my hand in hers, kissed the inside of my palm (I later learnt that meant ownership, that she’d sealed me as personal property). “What’s your name, kid?”

“Troy,” I said, “and I’m thirteen, which is old enough to fight if I have to and young enough my parents will come find me if I’m not home by dark.”

“Why is there a leaf on your face, Troy,” she snickered. “I bet you’re no crash-hot fighter with that obstructing your vision and your parents won’t want a leaf-boy for a son neither.”

She had a point. “It won’t come off,” I said, looking at my feet.

“No,” she said, way too calmly. “We’re trying a new enchantment. Good to see it worked. It’s more interesting than rats, rabbits, or a pumpkin, don’t you think?”

“If it’s all the same to you, miss, I preferred being a boy, and I’m getting mighty dizzy and sick in this darkness. I’d be much obliged if you’d help a kid out.”

She placed a cool finger to my leaf, muttered an incantation, carefully ripped the waxy cells so I had eye and mouth holes. “Will that suffice?” The other witches cackled around her.

“As I said, miss, I was really hoping to get back to straight homo sapien.”

“But you see, I need a new familiar, and you crashed right into our circle.”

That’s how I came to live in a forest looking like a freak with Betty McLean, leaving school, friends and family behind.