Rose Blackthorn – Celebrating Women in Horror 2015

Please welcome the ever vivacious Rose Blackthorn to Killion’s Kave today!  I first learned about Rose when she captivated me with her short story, Beautiful, Broken Things, in the anthology Wrapped in Black by Sekhmet Press.  I’ve always craved any type of  Morrigan tale, and Rose’s story brings empathy and love into the fearful crossroads of life’s choices.  My favorite line was, ” The taste was bitter, like his many regrets.”

Let’s learn a little bit more about Rose and Horror!

What about the horror genre interests you?

I love the emotion – I think it’s easier to create real believable emotion in characters in the horror genre than just about anything else. Horror can be based on real life places and experiences, or it can be completely out there as far as monsters or supernatural forces or made-up places. There are very few boundaries that can’t be broken or completely obliterated in the horror genre, which makes it very freeing as a writer.

Horror can be based on real life places and experiences, or it can be completely out there as far as monsters or supernatural forces or made-up places. There are very few boundaries that can’t be broken or completely obliterated in the horror genre, which makes it very freeing as a writer.

Tell me how you feel being a woman has either enhanced or hindered your writing in the Horror genre.

Maybe I’m oblivious, or just extremely lucky, but I don’t think my gender has ever had much to do with my success as a writer. I am a very emotional person (I’ve been known to cry, even sob, at certain commercials – don’t ask) but that may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I’m female. I try to use that empathy to add depth to my characters, and hopefully create an emotional response in my readers. As far as how I’ve been treated by editors, publishers, and other authors – I have to say I don’t have any horror stories to share. 😉

This is very true!  Real horror elicits emotion, and that’s when you know it’s good!

As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up? How’d that turn out for you? 😀 I also wanted to be a chiropractor, because my father was one. When I found out I had to carve up a real live dead body in school … yeah … I taught myself how to code instead. LOL

For a while I wanted to be a performer – a dancer or singer. I took dancing lessons for several years, but never went any farther than that. I sang in a choir in school, until my teacher told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t good enough to do anything with it. (Whether or not he was right, he certainly ended that dream).

I’ve been reading voraciously since I was five or six years old, and have been writing since my teens. I’ve always thought it would be the best “job” ever to be a full-time writer. I have published a few short stories and poems, and have written (but not published) more than one novel. I still think being a full-time writer would be the best job, but haven’t reached that point. However, I’m still working on it. 🙂

I agree!  Being a full-time writer is a huge dream!  I LOVE my day-job, it is very needed and enjoyed. The days I’m able to plan plotlines and write dialogue are treasured gems!

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

I don’t have a novel out, although I’m working on a couple. As far as a message in my writing – it just depends on what it is. I’ve written some things that are very close to my own heart, in which I’m sharing my own pain. Some are just for entertainment with no “deep meaning”.

What was a time in your life when you were really scared?

I guess when my mother passed away. I am an only child of a single parent, and so when she died it was the first time I felt that I didn’t have an older, wiser person looking out for me with my best interests in mind. I was married at the time, so I had my husband, and I had several very good friends who were there for me. But I definitely felt like an orphan, even though I was in my thirties and a responsible adult.

I can completely identify with that pain and loss. Nothing can frighten you to a child more than the loss of a parent. {{HUGS}}

Do you look to your own phobias to find subject matter? Are your stories the products of nightmares, childhood experiences, fantasies?

I have written stories and poems about dreams I’ve had, and based my writing more than once on experiences from my own life, even if only on character development or emotional responses. Fantasies are always fodder for a new tale to tell.

As far as using my own personal phobias – no, I haven’t done that. Maybe I should, because it would take some of the fear out of them. But I don’t even like thinking about those deep-seated involuntary fears of mine, let alone spending hours immersed in them while writing.

What is one stereotype about horror writers is absolutely wrong? What one stereotype is dead on?

“Horror writers ain’t right in the head.” Obviously that one is wrong. Right? 🙂

Dead on? Judging from those horror authors I know (either personally or through social media) that would be, “Horror writers can look at something innocent and innocuous, and immediately find the darkness or off-kilter thing that leads to something frightening.”

I know I’ve been that way most of my life. My wonderful mother introduced me to Stephen King and John Saul at a very young age, and I’ve embraced that “what if” that leads down the less-trodden path ever since.

Your mother was a very wise woman!  Go Mom!

What advice would you give to writers just starting out?

Don’t give up. It’s hard if you are getting rejections, or if people in your life don’t understand the time and emotion that you invest in your writing. Sometimes it’s hard to keep going. But if you love it, don’t give up. You’ll never know how far you might go if you give up.

What are you currently working on? Any new story or book releases? What’s on deck for you in 2015?

I have a fantasy novel, an urban-fantasy/post-apocalyptic novel and a horror/post-apocalyptic novel that are all in various stages and being worked on. There are also a few short stories in the queue.
As far as releases – I have a drabble “Young Love” in Speculative Valentine Drabbles 2015 released by Indie Authors Press on Feb. 4th.

I have a short story, “Beneath the Shadows of the Red-Leafed Maple” that will appear in the Eldritch Press anthology Our World of Horror to be released in 2015.

And, in the anthology Twice Upon A Time from Bearded Scribe Press I have a story titled “Before the First Day of Winter” which should be out within the next month or so. Also from Eldritch Press, sometime in 2015 I’ll be releasing my poetry collection titled Thorns, Hearts and Thistles which includes my photography as well.

And of course … my signature question – What is something that truly frightens you and how do you deal with it?

There are different kinds of fear. I’m terrified of bees/wasps/hornets. I’ve nearly wrecked my car when one flew into an open window.  I’ve stood frozen and screaming (as a child) while one crawled on my arm. It’s completely visceral, and I have no control over it. How I deal with that is simply trying to never put myself in the position where I have to be around them. I love flowers, but stay away from them when the bees are there.

The other kind of fear is more internal. I’m terrified of losing those I love, whether it be friends, family members, or my fur-kids. I have few really strong relationships anymore, because I can’t bear to lose them. If you’re part of my life, expect to be stuck with me forever – because I don’t want to let go!

Love Passionately!
Amazon link for Speculative Valentine Drabbles 2015 from Indie Author Press:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00T7VCFHY

Excerpt from Before the First Day of Winter, available soon from The Bearded Scribe Press:

There was a path down the ten foot drop of rock, carved as rude steps and handholds that Jordon took cautiously. He was terrified and wanted to rush headlong, but falling and breaking an ankle would help no one. As he reached the beach, the last roseate beams of sunlight made the fog incandesce, rendering his lantern redundant. But the brighter light hid more than it revealed, and his eyes burned and watered as he tried to find some sign of her.
Something moved to his right, and Jordon flinched. As quickly as the sun lit the fog, when it dropped below the horizon the billowing mist immediately became opaque. Shadows darted high, hunched low near the edge of incoming waves, and the sound of wings filled the air as the last gulls lifted from their foraging.

“Naia,” he called, desperate now. He moved toward the thicker shadows, lantern held high again.
Crumpled on the sand, safe from all but the highest tide, were a faded red skirt and sleeveless white shirt. Bare footprints led from the discarded clothing to the sea, and Jordon hastened to follow.
“Naia, don’t,” he shouted, “please don’t go!”
The mist shifted and thinned, giving him a clear view of maybe a dozen yards of wet sand and rushing waves. Standing knee-deep in rising water, Naia pulled something dark and heavy around her shoulders. Her hair lashed in the wind, and she looked back at him for only a moment.

“Naia—”

Then she was gone, and something dark and sleek swam away into the restless sea.

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