A Writer's Tale (12 page)

Does that sound like an overly harsh appraisal of the situation?

I bet it doesn’t. Not if you’re a horror writer.

To most horror writers, I bet it sounds like the solemn truth. But
why
do they revile us?

We aren’t bad people. Well, some of us, maybe…

Back to the question, Why are we reviled?

People in the book industry look down their noses at us because, with a few significant exceptions, our books do not sell very well.

Editors claim, “Readers just don’t want to buy horror.”

They advise, “Tone down the supernatural elements. We’ll call it a
suspense
novel, and it’ll sell a
lot more
copies.”

Basically, it seems that nobody wants to read horror unless it is written by you-knowwho.

And the publishers long ago gave up on finding any
new
stars. Oh, they tried a few times.

But they got the impression that nobody clicked, so they quit. Now, they very reluctantly publish horror novels every so often. Giving them little or no publicity. Doing tiny little print runs.

Usually, a horror novel will get published with no promotion at all. As a result, nothing much happens. With paperbacks, you’re lucky if five or six copies get into the average store. With hard-bounds, two or three copies may end up somewhere on a shelf, spine out.

They are pieces of hay in a hay stack. Nobody is likely
notice
these books, much less buy them. If they
do
get purchased, most bookstores will not reorder (though they might
claim
to).

When
Funland
came out in paperback, a local bookstore received a dozen copies. They flew off the shelves. They were all gone within two days. But I expressed an interest in buying the book, and was told that they wouldn’t be ordering any more copies.

Even books that do sell “don’t sell.”

All of which goes to prove that the publishers are right. Horror
doesn’t sell.

When the books don’t sell like hotcakes, the publisher blames the writer.

So much for why publishers despise us.

But what about the general public? Here is my “deep” answer.

The general public probably reviles horror writers (except for… ) because we are often dealing with taboo subjects that make them nervous. Horror stories dwell on such things as torture, deformity, madness, dismemberment, rape, incest, beastiality, cannibalism, and bad ways of dying. We are the specialists of the worst case scenerio.” We are tour guides leading readers into dangerous, frightening territories. In general, we write nasty stuff. It repels a lot of readers. But it also attracts them.

Many readers probably feel
especially
uncomfortable if they find themselves
drawn
to such sordid material. Good people are not supposed to enjoy reading about these things. If they do like it, many of them undoubtedly suffer feelings of guilt.

Reading horror is like looking at pornography.

Plenty of people might
want
to do it, but they know it would be wrong. It would be dirty.

They should be
ashamed
of themselves for liking it.

And if they’re caught, what would
other
people think of their dirty little secret?

As a result, these good people scorn horror novels.

They scorn horror writers as if we are smut peddlers… peddling smut they would
love
to get their hands on if they could only do so without risking embarrassment, damnation, or ridicule.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ATTENTION, PLEASE!

I HAVE AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!

I have just stumbled onto the reason that, while most horror writers are reviled, the mega-stars of horror are revered.

They provide a culturally acceptable outlet for those who long to wallow in horror.

“I’ll go to
them!”
the readers say to themselves (subconsciously I don’t imagine they realize this is going on). “That way, I’ll still be able to get my share of goosebumps and thrills, still be able to relish the joys of dismemberment, rape, incest, cannibalism, vampires the whole voyeuristic nine yards but with no risk to my self-esteem because these books are bestsellers!
Everyone
reads them. If
everyone
is doing it, there’s no reason for
me
to feel guilty, no reason for
me
to feel as if I’m a slumming illiterate wallowing in trash.”

“Trash is what the rest of them write: the Big Three write literature.”

* * *

That was my “deep” answer to the question, “Why do general readers hate us but love the Big Three?” Here is another answer, not so deep, but perhaps no less valid.

Too many “horror writers”
do
turn out poorly written, empty headed, violent, gory, depressing, mean-spirited, immoral, unbelievable swill about nonsense. If that weren’t bad enough, much of it is
boring.

For years, (once you’ve eliminated the shelf-loads of books by Koontz. King and Rice) the “horror sections” of bookstores have been loaded with books so poorly conceived and written that they should never have been published in the first place.

Certainly,
excellent
horror novels have also been published.

But they are surrounded by horribly written, annoying, boring junk.

If as a reader, you take a chance on a horror novel by a writer you’ve never heard of, you stand about a 20 to 1 chance of wishing you hadn’t.

I am a horror writer. I am a fan of horror literature. I
love
to lay my hands on a book that’ll pull me in and scare the hell out of me.

I almost never buy a novel from any bookstore’s “horror section.”

In my head, there is a small, select list of horror writers I trust. I pretty much stick with them, because I’ve been burnt too many times. It’ll be a fairly cold day in hell before I snatch up a “horror book” by someone whose name I don’t know.

Because it’s almost sure to stink.

The problem is, nearly all of us are tainted by the stink.

Horror writers such as Dean Koontz, Stephen King and Anne Rice managed to rise above the stink because they wrote stuff that was so strikingly good that publishers got behind them
in spite of
their subject matter. They rose above the “horror genre,” and into the fresh air of mainstream acceptance.

The only way for the rest of us to get un-tainted is to achieve bestseller status, which is pretty hard to do if you’re down there on shelves loaded with crappy horror novels. It’s a Catch-22.

Which is why so many of us turn away from horror.

Some of the best horror writers in this country are now writing mainstream novels, espionage novels, crime novels, medical thrillers, romance novels, suspense novels, historical novels, juveniles, movie scripts, comic books, computer games, etc. Some have apparently quit writing altogether.

I could name them.

I suspect they got tired of living in the ghetto.

Got tired of being scorned, ignored and underpaid.

This leaves us with somewhat less than a handful of mega-stars making millions of dollars every year, and a small crowd of horror writers struggling at the bottom of the barrel, usually making no more than $10,000 per book but frequently getting more like $2,000 - 5,000.

Most of the good writers at the bottom of the barrel get out. They move on to more lucrative pursuits.

This is just dandy with the publishers, because there are always new writers jumping in.

The publishers of horror fiction
love
new writers.

Beginners are so eager for a first sale that they’ll go for
anything.
They don’t care if they’re at the bottom of the barrel they just want to
be in the barrel
Publishers can get them to sign contracts that would disgust a seasoned writer. A novice will sign away all rights to a book forever for $1,500.

The new kid who’ll sell his horror novel for peanuts might not be as good a writer as the pro, but that doesn’t matter. To the publisher’s way of thinking,
the readers will never know the difference.

In the immortal words of a certain powerful New York editor, “Why should I pay Richard Laymon ten thousand dollars for a book when I can get one from Joe Schmow off the street for two thousand?”

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ATTENTION PLEASE!

I HAVE A
SECOND
MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!

Guess what? The big establishment New York publishing industry thinks FOC/are trash.

Holds
you
in contempt.

You
are as vile and worthless as the people who
write
the horror you hope to read.

If publishers assume (and believe me they do) that all non-star horror writers are interchangeable and dispensible, it is because they think that those of you who read us
don’t know the difference.

They think
you
have such lousy taste buds in your choice or reading material that you can’t tell the difference between top sirloin, ground chuck, and dog shit.

So they are inclined to throw you whatever is cheapest.

And guess what that is?

Given such a state of affairs, those in the business of providing meat go out of business.

Which, in my opinion, goes far toward explaining why we lovers of horror fiction have such a difficult time finding the good stuff.

How do you find the good stuff?

First, follow authors. Know your favorite horror writers and stick with them, even if they write “non-horror” books. The qualities that drew you to these writers will still be there, even if they have turned to adventure novels or medical thrillers or whatever.

Second, keep an eye on the small presses. They are not immune to publishing crap, but some small presses do bring out quality horror books by major authors who have been trashed by the New York literary establishment.

Third, find yourself a book store or mail-order dealer who can provide you with books published in England. It appears to me and to a great many other horror writers of my acquaintance), that publishers in the UK still care about quality fiction and respect authors. Not only do such companies as Hodder/Headline publish overlooked American authors, but they publish books by some wonderful UK authors, as well.

Fourth, keep an open mind. In bookstores, don’t spend all your time inspecting the horror section. Excellent horror novels are being published by major U.S. houses on a fairly regular basis but
they are disguised.
They aren’t promoted as horror. Instead, they are labeled
suspense
or
thriller
or simply
fiction.
They might be found in just about
any
section of a bookstore. For instance, I’ve found copies of my books in the science fiction section. A couple of times, I’ve even found horror novels (such as
The Amityville Horror)
tucked away in the non-fiction section of major bookstores.

You need to study covers. You need to read a few pages.

The situation is
so
ironic.

The same U.S. publishers who despise horror and readers of horror will go out of their way to write the most lurid, shocking cover material imaginable for their mass market mainstream thrillers. They know that readers hunger for scary, graphic stuff. They are
so
aware of the taste for grue that they actually write
misleading
cover material, trying to make even mild, tame suspense novels sound more gruesome than
The Silence of the Lambs.

And yet they despise horror fiction, its writers and readers.

What gives?

What
is
going on with horror in the U.S. publishing industry?

The more I look into the situation, the more complex it seems to be. It is a bundle of contradictions, ironies, paradoxes.

Horror is frowned upon by most publishers and readers in spite of the fact that three of the best-selling, most highly-regarded writers in the country are blatantly writing horror novels.

On top of that, what about “literary” authors?

How can it be that the very same people who loathe the writers of horror fiction somehow manage to revere such figures as Homer, Virgil, Sophocles, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Dickens, Dostoevski, Poe, Conrad, Melville, Hawthorne, Mark Twain, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the Brontes, Shelley, Colderidge, Faulkner, Bradbury…  ?

The list could go on and on. Every one of them wrote material that I would call horror.

You’d be hard-pressed to name
any
major literary figure in history who did not write stories or poetry that could reasonably be defined as “horror.”

And yet those of us who do it here in America at the tail end of Twentieth Century are worthless writers turning out trash that nobody wants to read.

Well, well, well…

They can despise us. They can reject our books. They can pay us next to nothing for the few books that they
do
buy. They can drive many of us away.

But some of us…

Well, we ain’t going nowhere.

We were here first, and we’ll be here to the last.

The first stories ever told around campfires in the dead of night ages before anyone ever dreamed of a publishing industry were tales of horror.

And
if there is to be a final tale told somewhere to a tiny, huddled group of survivors waiting for the end, I know what sort of story it will be.

It won’t be a contemporary romance.

It won’t be a courtroom drama.

It won’t be a techno-thriller.

It won’t be about Hollywood wives or covered bridges or feisty career girls or a professor’s identity crisis.

Hope.

It’ll be about what’s out there in the dark… and coming for them.

It’ll be a horror tale.

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