![]() For the month of June, I hosted a "Spooky Summer" book club reading The Wishing Pool and Other Stories by Tananarive Due. Tananarive Due is a name I recognized from my childhood. My mother read her books along with Stephen Barnes and Brandon Massey, big names in Black Horror and Speculative Fiction. The Wishing Pool was my first dive into her works and I was able to share it with my biggest Horror inspiration: my mother. As far as I could remember, my mom has been watching and reading horror. I'd sit and watch with her-- The Outer Limits, the Twilight Zone, Creep Show, Friday the 13th, Carrie (original and remakes), Final Destination-- It was our thing. My mother was my "origin story." In other words, part of the reason I gravitated to the genre, even going as far as taking Horror & Suspense fiction class in college. I never once asked what her origin story was. ![]() When did you first start reading and watching horror? Mom: Watching would be when I was, I think about 8. I would stay up late at night and watch the late horror movies. But I would lay between [my mom and dad]. I was in there with them so I was good. I’d watch these horror movies until the station went off and the screen when white. But I would need [my dad] to walk me to bed because I was scared. Reading? The first one I read was Helter Skelter, and you know what Helter Skelter is. Yeah, those would scare me, but I couldn't put them down. I was in my own room by then, so I was a teenager I think. What is 'horror' to you? How would you define it? Mom: Things that scared me or bump in the night. Horror to me are things that creep up on me or startle me. I mean of course the blood and gore, but it was really scary if things creep up on me. I didn't worry about the hows and the whys. I can put in that I think my fear started-- did I ever tell you about Uncle Ralph's room? Me: No. Mom: Ok, when I was little, we were all staying over at your great grandma and grandpas house. They never wanted us to go upstairs. Upstairs was off limits. But at night-- I remember it was storming so bad. Bad storm. [My sisters] slept in one room and your uncle Warren was just a little boy then and he got to sleep in the room with grandpa and grandma. I remember asking them where do I sleep? And they said in Uncle Ralph's room [Jade's note: Uncle Ralph is my grandfather's younger brother and my mom's god-father. EDITED: He died of kidney disease when my mom was a baby]. No one ever went into Uncle Ralph's room. I was scared to death! I closed my eyes so tight and all of a sudden I felt like someone touched me. Like someone put their hand on my shoulder and I was suddenly ok. I was able to go to sleep. In the morning, everyone was afraid and talking about how they couldn't sleep because of the storm, but I'd slept like the storm didn't happen. I was afraid to open my eyes, but I wasn't afraid of the storm. I think that's what made me immune to horror stories because I would watch them, but it was like I wasn't afraid anymore. Not really. What were some of your favorites? Movies, TV shows, books? Mom: Frankenstein. The old black and white on up until the remakes in the 70s. The remake ones use to upset my stomach. I’d have stomach aches all the time… those bothered me more. I liked the old Frankenstein. They didn't scare me. They made me feel sorry for him. Dracula. I like the newer Dracula versions The Thing— the ORIGINAL Thing. That bothered me but oooh! And then the other vampire type movies. Remember the one where all of the vampires would go to Alaska? 30 Days of Night. Nowhere you could run, nowhere you could hide. Its dark all the time. Yeah, that one I like! Blackula when it first came out… but now, I realize its predictable. I didn't care too much for ghosts or “Invisible Man” type of thing, even though those came on a lot growing up. I like the paranormal though. Do you still enjoy horror? Have you fallen out of the genre? Mom: Oh no! If its something that I know it will be good… like Netflix’s horror section, I’ll look through and read the synopses to see if there's something I’d like. If its predictable, it takes away the fun. They are all basically predictable now. I want something that is more entertaining rather than something that I know its going to happen. Like Swarm. It kept me glued! Like, I had an idea what was going on and what would happen. [spoilers redacted] The twists and turns— yeah, that was good. Is there anything else you'd like to add? Mom: I think I’ll always be fascinated by the horrific SciFi. Now that I'm older, it doesn't give me a headache much. But it still makes me jump. "What appealed to me about horror, once I discovered it especially in the literary form where you get to know the character a little better-- a little more deeply, were those opportunities to find your inner courage." If you've read or plan on reading The Wishing Pool, below are the discussion question I made for my group. Enjoy!
PART I: Wishes
PART III: The Nayima Stories
PART IV: Future Shock
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Monday's post had me reading through the stories I'd written as a child-- and its true what they say: Writing is Therapy. But flipping through my childhood notebook I found a couple of fables. Each of them ended with a famous quote. I realized what Child-Jade was doing: finding quotes and reinterpreting them. This is a fun little exercise on days where you can’t seem to get your head into your WIP, or a creative warm up. Like musicians warm up with their scales, painters warm up with techniques, writers warm up to writing.
Post in the comments what you come up with! Here are mine, circa 2008 (be warned, these are the words and interpretations of a 14 year old!): Every morning and through the afternoon, the squirrel would run and search for nuts. Acorns, walnuts, cashews. High and low, big or small, more and more and more. One day, while on his hunt. The squirrel encountered a simple mouse. “You look tired and thin,” she said. “Why not take a break.” In truth the squirrel was worn out and eyes shown not of health, but weariness. “I cannot,” he said. “I cannot rest now, with my meager supply of nuts while Bird grows full with his spoils.” On this day, when the sun shown dim behind the gray clouds, and the gulls squawked profusely in the sky, the fisherman brought in their weekly catch. The cats that live around the dock would gather, licking their lips and twitching their tail, anticipating a slip of the hand. They sat, peering from behind the posts, and looking down at the plentiful fish as the men worked. On this day, the young cat leaned over the dock just a little too far, ready to steal himself a meal. The men were busy, and despite the growing warnings from the other more experienced, the youth continued his dangerous advance. He knew what he was doing as he reached out a paw to grasp a floundering fish and — SPLASH— into the water he fell. The duck and the swan paddled through the shallows of the pond. They laughed and chattered of their day, gossiping as old gals do. Every morning they’s gather at the pond and share their latest news, and every afternoon, they’d go their separate ways. One day, like every other, they paddled contently in the pond. Like every other day, while the sun was high in the sky, the duck said her good-byes, and took to the sky. Bang! Unlike every day, the duck fell lifeless to the earth. The monkey laughed and played through the trees with his friends. He helped his friends perform tricky tricks, and hugged them when they cried. He also helped the elders gather their food and the younger monkeys climb. Monkey smiled every time they thanked him, loving every moment they were happy. “I love writing short stories. I’ve been publishing novels since 1995 and writing screenplays for twenty years, but in many ways, short stories feel like my purest fiction.” — Tananarive Due ![]() In a 2022 Writers Digest article, Dallas Washburn lists the importance of the Short Story:
When I was old enough to be allowed on the family computer, I began typing short stories (or novel length ideas that only got as far as shorts). I’d sit for hours, 1 finger typing out these stories that emerge from dreams. I learned a few things about myself during this time: 1: I loved horror/Speculative (I even took a Horror and Suspense writing class when I got to college). 2: I liked to experiment with rhythmic prose or prose poetry, writing stories that had more of a poetry fairytale feel. 3: the more I wrote, the more I learned “the rules” (beginning, middle, end). My first short story publication was Sophomore year of college, “The Invisible Boy.” After years of writing, that first publication really showed me that I really was a “writer” and could be an “author.” It would be years still before I attempted (and finished) my first novel. |
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