I know I’ve never written to you before, but being that I’m 31 I figured that I’d get this off my bucket list.
I know that you don’t really exist and that I never got a chance to believe in you because of my father’s peculiar religious belief that the it was in fact the baby Jeebus himself who brought the gifts. (Must be a miracle worker if he can do all that on the night before he’s even born.) But hey, this year has been a year of firsts, so let’s roll.
I would like to ask for the following items, in descending order of importance:
- My family’s health and and happiness
- Ditto for my friends
- A little bit of luck with my upcoming school year
- Ditto for my upcoming publishing ventures
- A dinosaur for my daughter – herbivore, if possible
- A Kindle loaded with my wishlist
- An iPhone, c’mon, you’ve seen my flip phone
That’s not a hell of a lot if you really think about it, Santa. I’ve been really good this year, too.
- I was honest, except for the time that I told the hooker about having enough for the room as well as “full service”.
- I didn’t hurt anyone, unless you count all those characters that I tortured while imagining they were people I’ve known.
- I paid attention when people were talking…except for the mystery panel.
- I cleaned my bathroom, you’d never know the red on the walls was anything other than paint.
- I’ve raised my daughter very well, she already knows the difference between zombies and vampires!
So Santa, I think I’ve earned a little something, but if you need some convincing there’s a $50 under the plate of cookies.
Love and rockets,
Now for the serious portion of this post. In all honesty, I have no idea what drew me to read – or write – horror. I grew up reading mystery fiction like Franklin W. Dixon, then graduated to Michael Slade. I’m sure there were some others in there, but those are the ones that stick out. Books were never really a priority to my parents, so I read mostly when it was time for bed. I do know that I almost didn’t give horror a second chance, when a 13 year old me stumbled into Chapters and actually bought a book by its cover.
Yeah, he’s a great author, but my mind at 13 nearly imploded trying to read this one. I still haven’t given this one another go, either.
Like Meli, I also have to thank Rue Morgue Magazine. I used to be heavily into film, horror and all its sub-genres were my bread and butter. Being that I didn’t read too much, the magazine was my main source of all things horror film related. There were book reviews toward the back of the magazine, which I’d have to credit as the first subliminal messages to me to get off my ass and read.
I also remember buying a lot of anthologies, sadly none of which I still have. I always thought that short stories were the way to go, given my “instant gratification” attitude at the time. Wait just a minute, I actually do remember one of my earliest introductions into horror literature. You may want to sit down for this.
There you go, Nancy Baker’s The Night Inside. That’s what dragged me toward the funneling abyss that is our beloved genre. There is no moment of great epiphany to speak of, I happened to really connect with the protagonists, and the fact that it’s mostly set in Toronto was a big selling point for me too. The two sequels were both slight disappointments to me, but the seed was planted. Obviously my tastes have changed slightly, although while I’m admitting secrets, I’ve read Kelley Armstrong and Laurel K. Hamilton as well. Before I finish up, I should mention that I currently don’t have a favourite author, I’m enjoying discovering what the entirety of the genre has to offer.
In closing, it’s time to spread some festive cheer. Colum, Shelagh, Meli and Pat, huge love to each one of you and your families. My most sincere best wishes for the Holiday Season and for 2012.
To our loyal and awesome DT readers, thank you for your continued support and interaction, you all make this craziness worth it. From my family to yours, have a safe, joyous Holiday, a very Happy New Year and all my best for 2012.