Day 3 of my 7 day feature centered around Undertaker Books continues. From their "About" page:
Welcome to Undertaker Books, where our core values are integrity, professionalism, honesty, and transparency.
At Undertaker Books, our mission is to provide publishing services to indie authors worldwide, spotlighting new and unique voices within the realm of horror fiction. We strive to offer a seamless publishing journey from submission to publication while providing valuable feedback every step of the way.
We believe in collaboration between authors, publishers, editors, and designers to bring diverse voices to the forefront of the horror genre. Our passion lies in creating a long-lasting partnership with authors by focusing on the “less is more” concept: quality releases, not the quantity of them.
Undertaker Books is not limited to any specific theme or subgenre. Instead, we are dedicated to innovative storytelling and embracing the myriad voices that contribute to horror literature.
To our readers, we hope to bring you stories you’ll take to your grave.
Welcome to Nowhere, the place of lost things.
With an abundance of cold, black fog.
With a grumpy Caretaker who doesn’t care.
With a wall of black that hides secrets.
With a monster, The Keeper, who declares everything his.
But maybe it’s a place where Will can forget. His mom died, leaving an emptiness that fills with hurt and anger. The fog offers a chance for him to exist where no one says they’re sorry, where no one looks at him with pity, where thoughts of Mom don’t crush his mind like a meteor. He discovers a place of new friends, of fun games messing with rusty robots, of feeling like himself, and learning the secrets of Nowhere.
But the sadness never leaves, the pain doesn’t dull, and the anger grows. And he yells at his family. He hits his friend.
Will must face his fears and acknowledge his true anger, before he sinks too far into the black and becomes a monster.
Click here for more information about this book and to order.
Before we get to Palm's essay, a reminder that Cuthbert is also offering a giveaway this week-- Undertaker Books prize packs for 3 winners! Click here for the rules and details on how to enter (from a previous giveaway post). Get your entries in by 5pm Central this Friday (10/9) to be entered for the week's giveaway.
Now back to Palm and her entry into the Why I Love Horror series.
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Why I Love Horror
Kathleen Palm
Horror is a house. A great sprawling beast of a thing that stretches up to the sky in warped mayhem and madness. A twisted tower built of trauma and fear. A mansion made of flickering lights and crooked walls, with a basement full of skeletons and an attic full of doom.
In this house, there’s room for everyone…and, really, a room for everyone.
Each room holds a different terror from monsters, to ghosts, to serial killers, to portals to the unknown. Every resident of Horror House build a room, where we face their fears and find joy in our power. We live happily together. Smiling with too big grins. Sharing looks of understanding.
And I love this with all of my blackened heart and fog-filled soul.
Everyone faces fear, a lingering shadow from the past or a new monster hiding in their closet. In the great Horror House living room, full of comfy couches covered with cobwebs, with the walls dripping blood and the ghoul shrieking in the corner, we find space to talk. To be together.
We find joy.
We find hope. We find light in the darkness.
For all people. For all ages.
As one fabulous and short psychic once said, “Cross over, children. All are welcome. All welcome. Go into the light.”
I started building my room in the Horror House when I was a kid, though I didn’t know it. If you’d asked me as a kid if I liked horror, I probably would have looked at you funny and shook my head. Maybe because horror was (and still is) a strange word that carries this negative energy. Maybe because my mom and sisters didn’t like scary things. Maybe because I didn’t know the definition of horror. I should have recognized my love of the spooky. Every time my Dad was watching something on TV…something weird or creepy, I was drawn to it.
So I watched with my eyes and heart wide open, seeing Scanners, Poltergeist, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Gate, The Watcher in the Woods, and Gremlins. They settled into my soul. Letting my imagination run wild to the point where (thanks to The Gate) I leapt onto my bed so whatever living underneath couldn’t get me. Afraid to go to sleep and dream because I learned if you die in your dreams you can die in real life (Freddy Krueger lesson #1).
And I read. Though being a child of the 80s, scary books for kids were scarce. I bought The Spell of the Sorcerer’s Skull at my school book fair. How could I resist that Edward Gorey cover? That was the first book that really scared me with dark magic and a skull that wouldn’t go away. A Wrinkle in Time brought its own fear of other dimensions and beings with the power to take people to scary places. And you better believe I would pick up a Nancy Drew book with the promise of a ghost on the cover…and be upset when there wasn’t a ghost. And I certainly chose my own adventures anywhere haunted.
But never in all the times of running up the stairs in fear of some shadow devouring me or making sure not even a toe would sneak out from under my blankets, it never crossed my mind to NOT take part in the scary.
Why? Kid-me didn’t know…didn’t even think about it.
Then again do any kids know? Well, maybe some, but not me.
Looking back, horror gave me a sense of power, it gave me hope, it gave me a connection to my dad, and as much as it made me wince and tremble, it also made me smile. I was strong to be able to face the monsters on the screen and know that maybe the monster under my bed wasn’t there…or maybe it was, but I could fight it. I was powerful to be able to look into the darkness and still find hope. I was so very happy sitting in the living room laughing with my dad when something made us jump, sharing a smile when the story took a dark turn, acknowledging a cool monster, or heading into the weird (Scanners, I’m looking at you).
My dad shared his love of weird and creepy, and that stuck, it grew. The power and joy has multiplied. And I built my room in the Horror House. My stay in the creaky halls has revealed why I watch and read, why I venture into the fear.
For in the Horror House, my room is full of ghosts, full of the darkness in my head, full of the monsters I fight. Self-doubt. Depression. Not being enough. Failure. Fear of the unknown. Feelings that have haunted me since I was a kid, a time when I didn’t have a name for all my feelings. Kid-me didn’t see their power, only weakness.
Building my room has helped me face the fear, to become a stronger me.
For that is horror’s superpower. To make us see ourselves and all our dark edges and become stronger. Not just for adults.
Middle graders face fear every day, from bullies, to abuse, to depression, to fear of the unknown, to war, and hate. Kids see it all…hear it all…feel it all. They just don’t know how to react, what to say, and what to do with all their feelings. And horror can give them a place to start to understand. A place where we all go to understand, all help each other.
Whether it’s a room full of monsters, a basement where their deepest fears lurk, or an attic full of trauma, kids want to be scared, to face the monsters and find themselves. So, as kids are usually pushed out of adult spaces with a pat on the head and soft words that they will understand when they’re older, they are welcome in the Horror House. Accepted. Allowed to roam the haunted halls, not in a separate house guarded by rules and judgmental eyes, but in that monstrosity of a castle with the rest of us, choosing where they want to be. And maybe they don’t know where that is yet. And that’s okay. They’ll build their rooms at their own pace in our great House of Spookiness. (Okay, Horror House or House of Spookiness…I think there should be a vote.)
So I write for all the kids who like scary, because there’s still a middle grader who is fighting monsters living in me. I write for ages 8-12, and even 13-14, people like kid-me who don’t really know why they are drawn to horror, just know that they keep going back.
I write middle grade horror to show kids their power. I offer hope in the darkness. I offer joy in the scares. I offer a place to go to try to find the words to deal with the thoughts and fear and the unknown.
I love living in the Horror House. All ages. All people. All rooms in varying states of construction. I can stay in my room, visit others’ rooms, or simply exist on the haunted front porch swing with a glass of chocolate milk. To share fears. To understand. And in so, find friendship. All are welcome in the Horror House. On whatever floor you wish to exist, with whatever fears you bring packed in your bag.
The house might scream a bit. It might wail and howl. But for so many of us, it’s a place of comfort, of joy, of power.
A place where we know we are not alone.
And that is why I love horror.
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