That one from a few days ago was a spotlight/author kind of thing. This is a conversation about horror, with other hosts, other horror writers:
Category Archives: craft
Angela Slatter let me answer a few questions about it:
Yes, wonderful, thank you, Grady Hendrix. I spent so much of time doing this kind of stuff to stories, to books, to authors—to everything. It’s how I attempt to order the world, such that I can move through it. Nice for a little of that work to already be done:
Using the ampersand there because I’m tired of seeing the “vs.” Too? I keep thinking I’m done with this discussion, this rabbit-hole, this time-suck. But then I stumble across something like this, and it rings true in a way I’d never considered:
That’s from American Grindhouse. And, that freedom Jonathan Kaplan’s talking about there, that’s exactly what I get the sense of, every time I’m reading PKD: that he’s ringing the bells he has to in order to do all this other stuff. Which, really, Elric Kane at Shockwaves podcast kind of said a few eps ago, talking George Romero:
Back when The Fast Red Road wasn’t called that—this is late 1997, early 1998—the way I intended to write it was as a series of long answering machine messages left in this one guy’s trailer while he’s off gallivanting around with a carnival or something (he’s got pet jackals—this is the kind cool stuff you think of, first novel out, that you then don’t get to use until, say, you write a novel about a bunnyheaded zombie coyote/smuggler/father). The guy on the answering machine was supposed to be this guy named Golius, a thinly-veiled Vizenor character, monologging on and on about, you guessed it: hominids. Each message was going to be a different theory about why our primate selves finally stood up. And these messages were going to matter so, so much to Golius, like, they’re the tether just barely keeping him attached to the surface of the planet. They’re not so important to the guy listening. To the guy standing there deleting them.
Years back, somewhere around 1997, I’d guess, I asked Janet Burroway, my dissertation director, for her advice on embarking on this whole writing thing. Janet’s answer was pretty much exactly this, from King—don’t wall yourself off from your family in order to write. Rather, write in the middle of them all.
[ original page/image is here ]
Over the years, I’ve gotten a lot of great advice, but none’s finally been as important as what Janet Burroway told me twenty years ago. It’s not about lining a shelf, it’s about building a life.