Women in Horror Month is about shining a spotlight on the less represented gender in horror fiction. There’s a lot to be said for having that kind of representation – other female authors out there killing it, providing an example, and a template, and importantly, creating female characters we can identify with, or loathe, or that make us think, but that are at least present. Not having that kind of representation is daunting, and I’d imagine even more as a member of a marginalized group within a marginalized group. 

LH: When you were first getting into reading, horror or otherwise, were you able to find representation that spoke to you, either in authors or characters? If so, who/what were they? And if not, how did it make you feel?

HP: I started reading adult books at around age 8 and didn’t really understand representation then; I just devoured books. Given the chance, I would usually feel for the monsters or strange creatures. Watchers by Dean Koontz stands out. I felt most for the super-intelligent dog, Einstein, and his fellow mistreated experiment, the Outsider. Probably not the best content for a kid, but it made sense to how I saw the world.

LH: Is your writing influenced in part by creating a voice for the kind of representation you would like to see? 

HP: I don’t think I can help that. I am queer, therefore everything I write is going to flow from that worldview, whether closeted or out, open or withdrawn. In that context, writing dark fiction almost feels inevitable. It’s often true to our lives.

LH: If you could wave a wand and create equality and representation for unique voices in this field, what would that include? What are some of the ways other members of the community can assist in making this a reality?

HP: To see representation in the writing, there needs to be representation behind the scenes. Editors cannot expect to “only publish the best stories” without understanding unconscious bias 

and a history dominated by a single demographic telling us what to see as “best.” We need to read, listen, watch, and speak to help each other.

LH: You’ve referenced feeling like you needed to put a lid on, or contain the LGBTQ aspects of your writing. Can you talk about that? Do you feel more widespread representation would lift some of those feelings for you, and for other writers as they come along?

HP: To give a queer perspective: when I start reading/listening to a story, or when long fiction reaches a point of revealing it, and I realize there’s a queer character, I feel elation. And sure, there’s fear at what’s to come, but that’s queer life, too, a mixture of pride and terror. When I’m writing, I write my characters as they are. When editing though, I have to consider that there’s a large audience of people who will not feel the way I do by the presence of queer characters in the narrative, or will even feel it’s a distraction. I’ve stopping putting a lid on it myself; what comes of that will either be accepted or it won’t. But hopefully widespread representation normalizes it so that when a reader who doesn’t feel elation encounters queer narratives/characters, they can just keep reading.

LH: Is there anything you’d like to add, about your specific experiences either finding representation that made you feel seen, or situations in which you felt like that was specifically excluded? 

HP: Jonathan Mayberry recently made a point that his run of editing Weird Tales will not be its namesake of many decades past that most people associate with the title. While most of us were happy to hear this, there was a vocal group stating horror was not a place for marginalized groups, neither as readers nor writers. And we creative people have to keep in mind that they’re out there, too, and to not let that get to us.

By Laurel Hightower
Twitter: @HightowerLaurel
Website: LaurelHightower.com