I’m trying to remind myself these days that horror is a many splendoured thing. In fiction, that is. I’m not watching the news, smiling a slow snake smile and muttering the word ‘beautiful’ to myself. I’ll leave that to the people pulling the politician’s strings. Surely there must be someone watching the blossoming groundswell of chaos reaching far across the world today and congratulating themselves. Before turning to Hitler’s living brain (now safely implanted inside the body of a gaunt, pale, asthmatic gorilla) and offering a deeply worshipful high five.
Read MoreYou might remember, the other week, that I mentioned setting up a sort of required reading list for the new novel. Who am I kidding? Of course you remember. They’re putting up the blue plaque outside my window to commemorate the anniversary of me writing it. I was talking about how I was looking for particular things to read and watch. I was listening to a lot of horror scores. I was basically chasing some sense memory of the novel I’ve got growing in my head. Or I was sense checking that it didn’t already exist.
Read MoreSometimes, the universe speaks to you. Or that’s how I choose to see it. I suppose it’s just coincidence, really. It’s either that or I’m deciding to pick up on the same, repeating cues to assemble my own, personal breadcrumb trail. It’s a way of making sense of the noise. Or using the noise to make sense of yourself.
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