I know that there is a lot of talk in the library world about the place of librarians in an overdose emergency; whether or not we should be taught how to dose Narcan, our role as de facto social workers, etc....
But that is not what I want to talk about today. Rather, I want to talk about how addiction is an issue that many people in all of our communities deal with. Every single person out there has either struggled with addiction or has an intimate connection to someone who has. And yes, I said every single person. Maybe your connection is not super dramatic, but all of us living in America today are aware of addiction and the struggle of those who are held in its grip, myself included.
But yet, we still don't talk about addiction in "polite" circles in public, even though many of our patrons are struggling with addiction and or its consequences. And we especially don't have a list of books at our fingertips to suggest to people who are craving a story that might capture even a fraction of what they are struggling with inside, or even to understand what a friend or loved one who has an addiction is struggling with.
That is why when I crossed paths with author Mark Matthews' Garden of Fiends: Tales of Addiction Horror, I knew I had to get him to talk about his book to library workers. And in talking to him about this wonderful first book, I found out he was almost done with a second volume, with even bigger name authors. 
The new collection, Lullabies for Suffering: Tales of Addiction Horror is available for preorder at a reduced rate here from Amazon or here from Barnes and Noble. The collection's topic hit a nerve with both readers and writers, and I know both fill a void in our collections, one we desperately need to fill.
I asked Matthews to come here on the blog to talk about himself, his love of horror, and his commitment to these collections. Why do addiction and horror go so well together? How do these stories help those struggling with addiction? And why for him, horror was a way out of his own addiction. In fact, he has a few novels that also fit into the addition horror subgenre.
This is one of my most important posts. I am urging you to buy both collections for your libraries. We know our patrons need to read these. We need to have them there for patrons to find.
But let me have the author tell you from his first hand experience. And thank you Mark Matthews for sharing such a personal story so that you can help others.
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The Tao of Horror
By Mark Matthews
What do I love about Horror?
In a sense, I hate horror—the trauma, the unjust suffering, the nefarious powers beyond our control that threaten everything we love. The worst of humans. The darkest of monsters.
But to vividly outline the precarious state of being human, of facing all our hurt, all our pain, the multitude of fears that threaten everything we covet, there is nothing I like more than horror. It is art that is about life, not about death. Good horror is life affirming and actually challenges me to be a better person, to look inward.
I’ll call it The Tao of Horror, where things are given definition by their opposite—the material of the bowl itself is not what gives it meaning, but rather the empty space. When we light a candle it always casts a shadow, and when we go into the dark, it always outlines the light.
As Joe Hill so aptly noted: “Horror is not about extreme sadism, it is about extreme empathy.” When I read a work of horror that resonates, it’s because I want to “hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me,” for the best of horror understands us on the most primal level, and is never afraid to go there. When we dive deep into the muck, basking in the sunshine means so much more.
I’ve met so many writers as part of the Horror Writers Association, and it just affirms my belief that horror writers have some of the finest hearts around, for they are in touch with the sensitive, fragile nature of the human spirit.
The way I view the world, I see and feel the horror everywhere. I am constantly trying to escape to freedom, to that proverbial cabin in the woods only to find it a deep, dark spot in my own psyche where monsters lurk that can’t be killed by one shot, can’t be put down until I face things that I was trying to avoid. Odd thing is, good horror actually relaxes me. I need the catharsis, the intensity, the onslaught. Both in the art I consume, and the art I create.
There’s a section of Stephen King’s IT where adult Bill Denbrough, the horror writer, states (slight paraphrase) “People always ask me where I get my ideas, and the real question is why I get my ideas?”
And the why I write horror? It is not because I am trying to scare others. That is not it. I am happy with any feeling besides boredom and apathy I can create with a story. Nope, I figured out that I like to write horror because I am the one who is scared. I am just a scared little boy, and writing squeezes that out of me.
My fears have changed, and I am not so much scared of monsters under my bed or the sounds in my dark basement, my fears are now elsewhere
I am scared of a universe with a God that does not exist. Or a non-caring God. I am scared of randomness of tragedy. Scared of my own feelings and expressing them. Scared of my own limitations, that I am wasting my life, born with whatever talents that are like seeds in the soil ready to grow but never saw sunlight. Scared of my selfishness, that I am a raging, psychopathic narcissist, Fear of looking certain people in the eye. Fear they’ll understand me for a second, and that we’ll connect, or fear I’ll never be understood by another living soul. Scared I am doing it wrong. Scared you are mocking me right now. Scared that something I missed long ago made everything I am doing right now irrelevant. Scared I’m waiting for my real life to begin while I live some fake one. Scared that the finest humans of this world are destroyed by the worst ones in a mass, unnoticeable genocides, and my own daughters are next.
So that’s why I write horror. Because I am the one who is afraid, not that I am trying to scare others.
Makes perfect sense that a coward like me relied on drugging and drinking for so long and I dove deep into addiction – using every substance I could get my hands on until it nearly killed me. But the greatest fears grow the strongest courage, and somehow I found the courage to stay clean and sober. Writing is the new drug that brings out the weird. The dark. The terrible fear I have.
Before you go calling 911 to have someone come and check on me, I should note that I have an immense capacity for joy. I smile often, have an incredible family, am blessed with many riches, and my favorite song growing up (which still makes me happy) is Disney’s "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah." There are plenty of days I can't open my mouth without a song jumping right out of it. I feel the light and happy just as much as the dark, and do believe there is a spirit that flows through all of us, and it is one of beneficence.
Writing about the darkness, and consuming art about the darkness, is just shining a light inside. All those existential fears need a face, and I need to stare them down so I can move on. Much of my psyche and deepest fears is my addiction, and so when I bleed on the page, that is what comes out—addiction horror.
What better way to capture the barren emotional and physical state of addiction than a work of horror? Until you’ve had your mind and soul hijacked by addiction, it is difficult to comprehend, for in the throes of a craving, the desire to obtain and use substances equals the life force for survival itself. Imagine yourself drowning and being told not to swim to the surface for air. Obsessions should be so mild.
My novels Milk-Blood, On the Lips of Children, and All Smoke Rises, are all works that portray the horrors of addiction horror with an unflinching honesty, but with empathy for the plight of the addict. After writing these works, I reached out to other horror writers, and edited the anthology Garden of Fiends: Tales of Addiction Horror, (which included a tale by the late Jack Ketchum who personifies the heart of a horror writer) and the upcoming Lullabies for Suffering: Tales of Addiction Horror.
Lullabies for Suffering goes on presale this month, and features some incredibly talented writers including Caroline Kepnes, Gabino Iglesias, John FD Taff, Mercedes M Yardley, Kealan Patrick Burke, and one novella of my own. This project is very personal for me, and if I am the only one who reads the kaleidoscope of voices, it will all have been worth it.
All the stories are about damaged humans craving for highs and wholeness but finding something more tragic and horrific on the other side. The idea of a ‘lullaby for suffering’, (title inspired by Leonard Cohen) fit so well, for addiction starts like a sweet lullaby sung by a trusted loved one. It washes away the pains of the day and wraps you in the warmness of the womb. Nothing hurts and every dream is possible. Yet soon enough, this warm state of bliss becomes a cold shiver and the ecstasy and dreams become nightmares.
In some sense, all horror is that same ‘lullaby for suffering.’ It sings a comforting song to our most primal selves, the darkest parts, the ‘cracks inside where the light comes shining through.’ A good work of horror can serve, as Franz Kafka said, “as the axe for the frozen sea within us.” For there certainly is a frozen sea, and the result is a spiritual hunger for warmth and wholeness. Our fractured selves suffer in the darkness and crave for healing—or if not healing, at least relief from suffering. Reading and writing horror, in some Taoist paradox, actually offers that relief, if but for a little while.
Mark Matthews is the author of On the Lips of Children, Body of Christ, All Smoke Rises, and Milk-Blood. He is editor of Garden of Fiends and the upcoming Lullabies For Suffering: Tales of Addiction Horror. Matthews is a graduate of the University of Michigan and a licensed professional counselor who has worked in behavioral health for over 20 years. He lives near Detroit with his wife and two daughters. Reach him at WickedRunPress@gmail.com
Thanks Becky! your advocacy is awesome!
ReplyDelete-Mark /Wicked Run Press