Stephanie M. Wytovich's Blog, page 22
April 21, 2015
Writing Horror: My Love Affair with the Devil
Now I lay me down to sleepI pray the Lord my soul to keepAnd if I die before I wakeI pray the Lord my soul to take
People hate the Devil. No really. It’s a huge debate in horror and one I’ve had to listen to and weigh in on for the past few years as I’ve finished up two religious horror projects, both inside and outside of graduate school. And I get it. The appeal of a character who is only bad and therefore has a pretty stereotypical game plan when it comes to the desecration of morality can be at best, boring. I mean if the Devil exists, then God has to as well, right? And if God exists, the Devil will always be the lesser of the two. So what’s the point?
The Devil, at least for me, isn’t a man in a red suit who runs around with horns and a pointy stick (hello innuendo!) stabbing people and stealing souls. It’s a little bit more complex than that, and I’ll be the first to say, and to say loudly, that I love working with the Devil. He’s one of my favorite characters to work with in genre because he represents chaos, confusion, lust, absence. The Devil makes you question everything you know, and everything you believe, and if someone asked me to define horror—which they often do—that’s the description I give them. Horror doesn’t push boundaries, it questions what the boundary is and why it’s where it’s at to begin with.
Growing up Catholic, I’ve always had this if-you-fuck-up-you’re-going-to-Hell kind of fear. And because of that, the idea or representation of the Devil has always been what’s scared me the most. I’m not knocking Catholicism, but I’m also not going to deny that the element of fear and guilt is a huge part of the religion. And that in itself, is fascinating to me as a writer. Why should I fear my God? Why should I live in a fashion where I’m constantly under judgment? Where I’m terrified to do something or try something because, even if my intentions are good, it might result in my body being tortured and tormented for the rest of eternity?
That devotion, that fear, that way of living life is why the idea of cults, sacrifice, and the Devil takes me by the throat and keeps me up at night. People are willing to do things, terrible, terrible things, in the name of God, or the name of Satan, because they think it will save or purify their souls. Kill a child? Murder your family? Rape, pillage, plunder?
The Devil isn’t just a man, he’s an idea, he’s a concept. If you misbehave, you’re sinful. If you like sex, you’re devilish. The concept of darkness, of finding it, cultivating it, accepting it, and spreading it, sings my song, baby. I like a character who questions my innocence, my morals, my humanity. When I write evil, I’m writing the physical representation of seduction in every form. Give me sex, greed, envy, and wrath. I want your pride, your gluttony, your sloth. And I’ll write your malice, your fear, and your confession, but I won’t do it with darkness.
I’ll do it with light.
See, what I think people get wrong about the Devil in terms of writing horror, is that they think he’s all bad. Did I just get sympathetic? HELL FUCKING YEAH. If you have a character that is all darkness, then just like we discussed above, what’s the point of writing him/her? I like to remind myself, over and over again, that Lucifer was once an angel. Sure, the Bible states that he fell, but at one point, he was nothing more, or nothing less, than God’s winged cheerleader. So there’s a past there. There’s a story. People get feisty when the Bible is looked at as a piece of literature and not as a holy text, but when all is said and done, it’s a book, and it’s a book that was not composed by God, nor by Lucifer. What we have here is a story. And as writers, we know that there are two sides to every story.
Yeah, the Devil isn’t a great guy, but he’s a flawed character, albeit a powerful one. When done right, he’s brilliant. He’s charming, manipulative, sympathetic. When done poorly, well, we’ve all seen that song and dance. But I think what’s important here is that the Devil is flawed. He made a mistake. He fucked up. He’s in Hell because he was cast out by his father and shunned by his brothers and his sisters. He is sinful—an embodiment of the seven—and he makes mistakes just as we do. That’s why he loves us. That’s why he wants us. We’re like him—vulnerable, thirsty, and vengeful. We’re the perfect prey. He’s not playing with anything that isn’t already inside of us—and that is where the horror lies.
It’s not in the Devil. It’s not in God.
It’s in us.
And if that’s not scary enough, let me take it a step further:
God didn’t like being challenged, so he got rid of his competition. Snuffed him out like a cigarette and hid him away from the world, trapping him in a sea of fire and damning him for eternity. Everyone is so concerned about what’s happening below, but who is to say that there isn’t something equally as terrifying happening above.
Remember. Religion is blind faith.
That’s why horror writers—that’s why I—love playing with it, because what’s scarier than to confront the idea of hope that we all have, but that none of us can confirm? Religion is all about good vs. evil. But what if we flipped sides? What if we stopped hearing that God wins, that God exists, that God doesn’t make mistakes?
What if God didmake a mistake and it was casting out Lucifer?
If God is all powerful, why was Lucifer such a threat?
What if there’s a story that we don’t know about?
That all of us are too afraid to tell…
Angels versus demons.Heaven versus Hell.
Maybe it’s time we (as writers) start questioning the fact that we picked sides before we heard both stories.
April 14, 2015
Poetry as Prayer: A Meditation on Words
I keep a crucifix at my desk;it reminds me that pain and love are synonymous,that nothing worthwhileis easy.
I was raised Catholic, and when you’re raised Catholic, you can always count on one thing to rule your life. Nope, not God. Good try though! But in this case, the answer is guilt. As someone who has been going through a crisis of faith over the past few years, not a day goes by when I don’t feel that almighty hand on my shoulder alongside a whisper gently telling me that if I don’t start singing a different tune that I’m going to Hell. But that’s a story for a different blog post. Today, I want to talk to you about prayer.
I may have a lot of feelings about life, how I live it, and who I live it with, but one thing that I’ve never wavered from is that I pray every day. What has changed, is how I do it. When I was little, I used to kneel at my bedside every night and say a prayer for every person I loved. I’d often fall asleep with my family’s name on my lips, or a tear on my pillow, but I wanted someone out there to know that I was putting good energy into the world, and I hoped that if I put enough of it out there, that somehow, it might reach my loved ones as they fell asleep and started to dream.
There are times when I still do this, even now, everything considered. But before I drop to my knees in prayer, I pray on paper in sonnets, in free verse, in haiku, in prose. I write about madness, because that’s what life is. It’s unpredictable. People leave. People die. I make mistakes. I fuck up. Sometimes things work out. Sometimes they don’t. But that’s life, so if I’ve loved you, if we’ve shared a moment, if we’ve shared a kindness, I believe there is energy in that, and I put that happiness (for however long it lasted) into a memory box in my head, and at night when I write, I thank whoever is listening for those handful of seconds when my heart was touched with love.
It took me a very long time to understand that life isn’t about collecting people, about changing people. Experience has taught me that energy cannot be contained, and so I started collecting moments instead. And when they’re good, I smile. And when they’re bad, I try to smile, too.
Because life isn’t perfect.In fact, sometimes it’s quite awful.
Most of you know me as a horror writer, but that’s not how it started and it’s not all who I am. I play with darkness because that’s how I find light, but sometimes, there is only light, only comfort. These are the poems that you don’t see, but you will in An Exorcism of Angels. At least a couple at least. In fact, there are a few poems in there that are some of my favorite prayers to date, and I can’t read them without crying because they dictate some of the most beautiful moments I’ve had.
When I think of the collection, I often smile through tears. Like most things, it’s bittersweet. It’s dark yet it’s beautiful, loving but not without pain. But that’s life and I wanted to write the book because I wanted to preserve the memories, the moments that mattered.
Some of them good.Some of them bad.
But all of them worth having.
I was raised Catholic, and when you’re raised Catholic, you can always count on one thing to rule your life. Nope, not God. Good try though! But in this case, the answer is guilt. As someone who has been going through a crisis of faith over the past few years, not a day goes by when I don’t feel that almighty hand on my shoulder alongside a whisper gently telling me that if I don’t start singing a different tune that I’m going to Hell. But that’s a story for a different blog post. Today, I want to talk to you about prayer.
I may have a lot of feelings about life, how I live it, and who I live it with, but one thing that I’ve never wavered from is that I pray every day. What has changed, is how I do it. When I was little, I used to kneel at my bedside every night and say a prayer for every person I loved. I’d often fall asleep with my family’s name on my lips, or a tear on my pillow, but I wanted someone out there to know that I was putting good energy into the world, and I hoped that if I put enough of it out there, that somehow, it might reach my loved ones as they fell asleep and started to dream.
There are times when I still do this, even now, everything considered. But before I drop to my knees in prayer, I pray on paper in sonnets, in free verse, in haiku, in prose. I write about madness, because that’s what life is. It’s unpredictable. People leave. People die. I make mistakes. I fuck up. Sometimes things work out. Sometimes they don’t. But that’s life, so if I’ve loved you, if we’ve shared a moment, if we’ve shared a kindness, I believe there is energy in that, and I put that happiness (for however long it lasted) into a memory box in my head, and at night when I write, I thank whoever is listening for those handful of seconds when my heart was touched with love.
It took me a very long time to understand that life isn’t about collecting people, about changing people. Experience has taught me that energy cannot be contained, and so I started collecting moments instead. And when they’re good, I smile. And when they’re bad, I try to smile, too.
Because life isn’t perfect.In fact, sometimes it’s quite awful.
Most of you know me as a horror writer, but that’s not how it started and it’s not all who I am. I play with darkness because that’s how I find light, but sometimes, there is only light, only comfort. These are the poems that you don’t see, but you will in An Exorcism of Angels. At least a couple at least. In fact, there are a few poems in there that are some of my favorite prayers to date, and I can’t read them without crying because they dictate some of the most beautiful moments I’ve had.
When I think of the collection, I often smile through tears. Like most things, it’s bittersweet. It’s dark yet it’s beautiful, loving but not without pain. But that’s life and I wanted to write the book because I wanted to preserve the memories, the moments that mattered.
Some of them good.Some of them bad.
But all of them worth having.
April 11, 2015
An Exorcism of Pride: Poetry for the Damned
An Exorcism of Pride
by Stephanie M. Wytovich
This is an act /Everything you read here is true
Right now I’m lying /But I’m being completely honest
That I hate myself/ But I like myself better than you, /You, who will never take me alive
Because I’m already dead / And I’m the most alive I’ve ever been
Alive because I’m breathing / Dead because I committed suicide in your heart
I even killed you, too /You just haven’t noticed yet
So smile while you can/ Your bones are crying
by Stephanie M. Wytovich
This is an act /Everything you read here is true
Right now I’m lying /But I’m being completely honest
That I hate myself/ But I like myself better than you, /You, who will never take me alive
Because I’m already dead / And I’m the most alive I’ve ever been
Alive because I’m breathing / Dead because I committed suicide in your heart
I even killed you, too /You just haven’t noticed yet
So smile while you can/ Your bones are crying
April 7, 2015
An Exorcism Warning: I Don't Speak Latin
Love is an exorcism of angels...
I wrote the first draft of An Exorcism of Angels in three weeks. That’s 140 poems in 21 days. A lot of people have asked me how that’s even possible, and I truly don’t have a good answer to that other than the book had to happen, and it had to happen fast. Much like Edgar Allan Poe, “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched,” and in this instance, my heart wasn’t merely touched. It was possessed. Hence the exorcism.
But since I don’t speak Latin, I decided to speak through poetry instead.
What was different this time around, was that not all my demons were fiction. I don’t pretend to live a perfect life. At best, I’m sinful, and at worst, well, let’s just say there’s probably a seat reserved for me downstairs. Maybe even a pew. Hell, I probably have my own circle if we’re going to be completely honest with each other. But jokes aside, for only being 26 years old, I’ve seen Hell in more ways, shapes, and forms than I care to count. I mean, my first memory as a child is of a suicide, and while I’ve come to peace with my demons, both internal and external, both past and present, what I haven’t seen a lot of is Heaven.
I’m not talking pearly gates or big white castle in the clouds, but rather peace, serenity. At a reading a few weeks ago, someone asked me if I believed in guardian angels, and I wasn’t sure what to say. Sure, I was brought up to believe in them, but if I have a guardian angel watching over me, she certainly has a lot of explaining to do. And I certainly have a lot of questions.
And that’s where the gray area comes in. The unknown. The debatable. I wrote this book while I was in a world of gray. The idea came to me in bed, and it came to me while I riding out a bout of depression. I was questioning a lot about life then, a lot about people, about love. I thought for sure my heart had taken its final beating, and then out of the darkness, the words started to come. Why do good things happen to bad people? Why do bad people triumph while good is punished over and over? What is good? What is bad? Are things as black and white as they seem? Are all demons evil? Are all angels holy? Can one have sympathy for the Devil? After all, Lucifer was an angel first, was he not?
This book is different than anything that I have written before. It explores faith in a way that is unfaithful while still being devout, and it's as blasphemous as much as it's a prayer. These poems found me while I was locked in Hell, and they brought me to a kind of Heaven. They taught me that not all angels have wings, just as not all demons have claws, and throughout the rest of the month, I'm going to be talking about a lot of different topics regarding religion and horror: The Archetype of the Devil, What it Means to Write Religious Horror as a Catholic, Poetry as Prayer, etc.
I’m not ashamed or afraid to admit that writing this book saved my life, probably in more ways than one, and on April 23rd, the preorders will go live from Raw Dog Screaming Press. My penance? For every person that preorders this collection, I’m donating $1.00 to SAVE: Suicide Awareness Voices of Education. Writing saved my life.It's my turn to help save someone else's.
In sin and in prayer,Stephanie M. Wytovich
I wrote the first draft of An Exorcism of Angels in three weeks. That’s 140 poems in 21 days. A lot of people have asked me how that’s even possible, and I truly don’t have a good answer to that other than the book had to happen, and it had to happen fast. Much like Edgar Allan Poe, “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched,” and in this instance, my heart wasn’t merely touched. It was possessed. Hence the exorcism.
But since I don’t speak Latin, I decided to speak through poetry instead.
What was different this time around, was that not all my demons were fiction. I don’t pretend to live a perfect life. At best, I’m sinful, and at worst, well, let’s just say there’s probably a seat reserved for me downstairs. Maybe even a pew. Hell, I probably have my own circle if we’re going to be completely honest with each other. But jokes aside, for only being 26 years old, I’ve seen Hell in more ways, shapes, and forms than I care to count. I mean, my first memory as a child is of a suicide, and while I’ve come to peace with my demons, both internal and external, both past and present, what I haven’t seen a lot of is Heaven.
I’m not talking pearly gates or big white castle in the clouds, but rather peace, serenity. At a reading a few weeks ago, someone asked me if I believed in guardian angels, and I wasn’t sure what to say. Sure, I was brought up to believe in them, but if I have a guardian angel watching over me, she certainly has a lot of explaining to do. And I certainly have a lot of questions.
And that’s where the gray area comes in. The unknown. The debatable. I wrote this book while I was in a world of gray. The idea came to me in bed, and it came to me while I riding out a bout of depression. I was questioning a lot about life then, a lot about people, about love. I thought for sure my heart had taken its final beating, and then out of the darkness, the words started to come. Why do good things happen to bad people? Why do bad people triumph while good is punished over and over? What is good? What is bad? Are things as black and white as they seem? Are all demons evil? Are all angels holy? Can one have sympathy for the Devil? After all, Lucifer was an angel first, was he not?
This book is different than anything that I have written before. It explores faith in a way that is unfaithful while still being devout, and it's as blasphemous as much as it's a prayer. These poems found me while I was locked in Hell, and they brought me to a kind of Heaven. They taught me that not all angels have wings, just as not all demons have claws, and throughout the rest of the month, I'm going to be talking about a lot of different topics regarding religion and horror: The Archetype of the Devil, What it Means to Write Religious Horror as a Catholic, Poetry as Prayer, etc.
I’m not ashamed or afraid to admit that writing this book saved my life, probably in more ways than one, and on April 23rd, the preorders will go live from Raw Dog Screaming Press. My penance? For every person that preorders this collection, I’m donating $1.00 to SAVE: Suicide Awareness Voices of Education. Writing saved my life.It's my turn to help save someone else's.
In sin and in prayer,Stephanie M. Wytovich
April 4, 2015
AN EXORCISM OF ENVY: POETRY FOR THE DAMNED
AN EXORCISM OF ENVY
by Stephanie M. Wytovich
I watched them together,
Watched them behind closed doors
Watched them in public, in private,
Watched them always
And part of me laughed at how awful they were
How she didn’t know his rhythms
How he couldn’t recognize her signs
But still
I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
In his bed
In his shower
In his heart
And I was doing something wrong
Something that I couldn’t figure out
Something that wasn’t good enough
That wasn’t strong enough
And Christ, she was doing it wrong again!
Her hands were in the wrong place
Her lips were too rough
He needed touched there
Need caressed there
And this was ludicrous
Because I was better
Better at pleasure
Better at pain
And yet I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
And I hated her for winning
Hated her for her imperfection
For her faults and her body
Her body that didn’t work
Her mind that wasn’t mine
And so I went home and I dyed my hair
Dyed it lighter then cut it off
I practiced her laugh
I memorized her smile
And I would become her
If that’s who he wanted
Someone less than he deserved
And I would be better at that, too
I would win
Win at being her
by Stephanie M. Wytovich
I watched them together,
Watched them behind closed doors
Watched them in public, in private,
Watched them always
And part of me laughed at how awful they were
How she didn’t know his rhythms
How he couldn’t recognize her signs
But still
I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
In his bed
In his shower
In his heart
And I was doing something wrong
Something that I couldn’t figure out
Something that wasn’t good enough
That wasn’t strong enough
And Christ, she was doing it wrong again!
Her hands were in the wrong place
Her lips were too rough
He needed touched there
Need caressed there
And this was ludicrous
Because I was better
Better at pleasure
Better at pain
And yet I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
And I hated her for winning
Hated her for her imperfection
For her faults and her body
Her body that didn’t work
Her mind that wasn’t mine
And so I went home and I dyed my hair
Dyed it lighter then cut it off
I practiced her laugh
I memorized her smile
And I would become her
If that’s who he wanted
Someone less than he deserved
And I would be better at that, too
I would win
Win at being her
April 3, 2015
AN EXORCISM OF LUST: Poetry for the Damned
AN EXORCISM OF LUSTby Stephanie M. Wytovich We were in the carYou put on “Come with Me Now” by the KONGOSI laughedThis was my songAnd you were the one who introduced me to itAll those weeks agoBefore I hidBefore you ran awayYou handed me the whiskey bottleI drank and drove down country roadsWe sangWe dancedWe pulled overI came with youYou came with meNow ThenAlwaysThe KONGOS continued to playWe looked at the skyThrew up our handsScreamedScreamed loudScreamed togetherAnd that was the first time I felt loveNaked in the woodsMy gypsy soul exposedYou, standing thereHolding my heartBetween your teethBleedingBrokenAnd deadBut happier than ever before
March 28, 2015
26 Writing Tips for 26 Years
Last year for my 25th birthday, I wrote a blog post containing 25 lessons that I'd learned so far living as a writer. This time around, I decided to challenge myself by coming up with 26 tips that I’ve learned in the past year as I’ve continued to publish, edit, and work like the madwoman I am. Hopefully these will be as helpful to you as they were/are for me!
1. Create a submission log so you know what stories/poems are out in the world. Include the date, market, title, whether it’s been accepted or rejected, and whether you are waiting for payment or have already been paid. Also, print out all of your contracts and keep them in a binder so if you ever have any questions or notice a discrepancy, you’ll have it at easy access.
2. Keep all of your receipts. Even if you’re not making enough to do a tax write-off yet, start learning how to function as a businessman/businesswoman. It's good to know what you’re spending, and knowing that number will help you evaluate what worked, what didn’t, and where you can cut corners or expand in the upcoming year.
3. Go to differentconventions and conferences. Prior to last year, I had only ever attended World Horror. Later that June, I attended NECON for the first time, and this year, I’ll be attending AWP in addition to my usuals.
4. Attend local events in your area and get to know the writing circles where you live. Attend poetry readings, go listen to speakers. It’s not only a networking opportunity, but it’s helpful to have your city behind you when you start to fly.
5. Be a good Alumni. Does your university have events/retreats? If so, go to them. Similar to the above, you want your university in your corner as well. Plus, this is a great way to recharge your creativity and reconnect with your colleagues and see what everyone is doing. I try to make the Seton Hill retreat when I can, even if it’s only for a day.
6. Read more. For the past couple years now, I’ve participated in the Goodreads reading challenge, and by holding myself responsible and tracking my reading progress, I not only read 52 books a year, but I’m soaring past that now. I try to set different goals every year for what I put on my list so I’m not just reading horror, too. For instance, I always do a playwright study (this year it’s Martin McDonagh), always read at least one classic, and then do a healthy mix of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry.
7. Watch movies. In addition to reading, I think it’s really important to follow up on the other media that’s happening in your genre. For instance, this year I started watching a lot of foreign horror, and then doing individual studies of Carpenter, Kubrick, Cronenberg, etc. It’s been very helpful to me as a writer, panelist, and teacher.
8. Buy a wall calendar that shows you the entire year. I have one of these in my office and every time I find something that I might want to submit to, I put it on the calendar. This keeps my goals realistic and also acts as a permanent reminder that I need to be working and not procrastinating.
9. Write everything. If someone asks you to write something that you’re not sure you can do…do it anyways. Don’t pass up an opportunity just because you’re afraid and doubting yourself. Say yes, and teach yourself as you go along. Ask questions. Have people beta-read it. Expand, take changes, and grow.
10. Are you on social media yet? If not, I reiterate that you’re greatly missing out. In addition to my usual media circles, I’ve started/become more active on Instagram, Google +, and LinkedIn and have benefited because of it.
11. Create a writing space that you feel comfortable in. This will be your place. My desk is one of my favorite places to be and I feel at home when I’m there. In other words, don’t make your writing hut feel like a prison. You want it to be a place that doesn’t reek of stress and deadline. Writing is fun. Keep it that way. For instance, I have a giant skull next to my laptop who wears my headphones when I'm not using them. Keep it light, friends.
12. Know your novel pitch and be able to recite it on command.
13. Consider questions that people might ask you either before or after a presentation. I self-interview myself before every reading/lecture and this has been extremely helpful to me considering there are certain questions I always struggle answering depending on my topic. This keeps me fresh, insightful, and most importantly, it prevents me from looking like a complete jackass.
14. Have a list of magazines that you want to publish with. I have my list taped right next to my computer so that I see it every time I sit down to write. It’s not only a reminder of my goals, but it also lights a fire under me when I need it.
15. Teach without a classroom and without students. My goal since my first day of undergrad was to be a professor. After I completed my MFA in ‘14 and wasn’t immediately hired somewhere, I decided that I would teach anyways so that when I was hired, I’d be ready. I made sample syllabi, considered books/writers that I would like to teach and then wrote notes/ideas next to them. I kept this all in a big folder next to my bookshelf and now that I’m teaching this summer, I’ve never felt more prepared.
16. Don’t let someone—especially someone you don’t know—tell you how to write, what to write, or how to manage your career. People who feel they have some weird entitlement to do this make me wish there was a throat punch button on my phone. Get rid of them. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.
17. Do you know your influences well enough to be able to talk about them at the drop of a hat? If you tell me you like Clive Barker, I’m going to ask you what your favorite book was, and whether or not you’ve seen his art. Are you prepared to answer all of that? If not, time to practice your answer.
18. Be humble. If things start going well for you and you become a dick, people will hate you and they won’t buy your books, no matter how good they are. Stay real and remember to be thankful for everything that happens.
19. Don’t be afraid. For years, I was afraid of writing an erotic horror poetry collection because I was nervous of how I would be perceived by my readers and colleagues. I sat down a few months ago and made a pro/con list about it, and well, needless to say, I have a market-ready manuscript now. #allthesex
20. Bleed a bit. Not literally of course, but go to places that make you uncomfortable, that make you vulnerable. I’m a big believer in writing as a form of catharsis and not only will your story be better for it, but you’ll feel better as well. Writing AN EXORCISM OF ANGELS saved my life last summer.
21. Get business cards and have them on you at all times.
22. When you get ideas, write them down because I promise you, you’re not going to remember them. Either carry a small notebook around with you or get in the habit of using the note section on your phone.
23. Remember to say thank you to anyone who has given you their time. I’m a big fan of handwritten notes, but you don’t necessarily have to take it to that extent. Just be appreciative and even if things don’t work out, you look professional and they’ll welcome the chance to work with you again.
24. Beta readers are your friends. Find them. Love them. Cherish them.
25. Know your brand and stick to it. I write thematically, and even though I’m not necessarily writing asylum prose anymore, madness will always be my brand and I stick to that and keep that in mind with everything that I write.
26. Learn how to read and understand contracts. If you can’t wrap your head around it, find someone who is familiar with them and ask for their help. Know what you’re signing your name to. Always.
--Stephanie M. Wytovich
1. Create a submission log so you know what stories/poems are out in the world. Include the date, market, title, whether it’s been accepted or rejected, and whether you are waiting for payment or have already been paid. Also, print out all of your contracts and keep them in a binder so if you ever have any questions or notice a discrepancy, you’ll have it at easy access.
2. Keep all of your receipts. Even if you’re not making enough to do a tax write-off yet, start learning how to function as a businessman/businesswoman. It's good to know what you’re spending, and knowing that number will help you evaluate what worked, what didn’t, and where you can cut corners or expand in the upcoming year.
3. Go to differentconventions and conferences. Prior to last year, I had only ever attended World Horror. Later that June, I attended NECON for the first time, and this year, I’ll be attending AWP in addition to my usuals.
4. Attend local events in your area and get to know the writing circles where you live. Attend poetry readings, go listen to speakers. It’s not only a networking opportunity, but it’s helpful to have your city behind you when you start to fly.
5. Be a good Alumni. Does your university have events/retreats? If so, go to them. Similar to the above, you want your university in your corner as well. Plus, this is a great way to recharge your creativity and reconnect with your colleagues and see what everyone is doing. I try to make the Seton Hill retreat when I can, even if it’s only for a day.
6. Read more. For the past couple years now, I’ve participated in the Goodreads reading challenge, and by holding myself responsible and tracking my reading progress, I not only read 52 books a year, but I’m soaring past that now. I try to set different goals every year for what I put on my list so I’m not just reading horror, too. For instance, I always do a playwright study (this year it’s Martin McDonagh), always read at least one classic, and then do a healthy mix of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry.
7. Watch movies. In addition to reading, I think it’s really important to follow up on the other media that’s happening in your genre. For instance, this year I started watching a lot of foreign horror, and then doing individual studies of Carpenter, Kubrick, Cronenberg, etc. It’s been very helpful to me as a writer, panelist, and teacher.
8. Buy a wall calendar that shows you the entire year. I have one of these in my office and every time I find something that I might want to submit to, I put it on the calendar. This keeps my goals realistic and also acts as a permanent reminder that I need to be working and not procrastinating.
9. Write everything. If someone asks you to write something that you’re not sure you can do…do it anyways. Don’t pass up an opportunity just because you’re afraid and doubting yourself. Say yes, and teach yourself as you go along. Ask questions. Have people beta-read it. Expand, take changes, and grow.
10. Are you on social media yet? If not, I reiterate that you’re greatly missing out. In addition to my usual media circles, I’ve started/become more active on Instagram, Google +, and LinkedIn and have benefited because of it.
11. Create a writing space that you feel comfortable in. This will be your place. My desk is one of my favorite places to be and I feel at home when I’m there. In other words, don’t make your writing hut feel like a prison. You want it to be a place that doesn’t reek of stress and deadline. Writing is fun. Keep it that way. For instance, I have a giant skull next to my laptop who wears my headphones when I'm not using them. Keep it light, friends.
12. Know your novel pitch and be able to recite it on command.
13. Consider questions that people might ask you either before or after a presentation. I self-interview myself before every reading/lecture and this has been extremely helpful to me considering there are certain questions I always struggle answering depending on my topic. This keeps me fresh, insightful, and most importantly, it prevents me from looking like a complete jackass.
14. Have a list of magazines that you want to publish with. I have my list taped right next to my computer so that I see it every time I sit down to write. It’s not only a reminder of my goals, but it also lights a fire under me when I need it.
15. Teach without a classroom and without students. My goal since my first day of undergrad was to be a professor. After I completed my MFA in ‘14 and wasn’t immediately hired somewhere, I decided that I would teach anyways so that when I was hired, I’d be ready. I made sample syllabi, considered books/writers that I would like to teach and then wrote notes/ideas next to them. I kept this all in a big folder next to my bookshelf and now that I’m teaching this summer, I’ve never felt more prepared.
16. Don’t let someone—especially someone you don’t know—tell you how to write, what to write, or how to manage your career. People who feel they have some weird entitlement to do this make me wish there was a throat punch button on my phone. Get rid of them. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.
17. Do you know your influences well enough to be able to talk about them at the drop of a hat? If you tell me you like Clive Barker, I’m going to ask you what your favorite book was, and whether or not you’ve seen his art. Are you prepared to answer all of that? If not, time to practice your answer.
18. Be humble. If things start going well for you and you become a dick, people will hate you and they won’t buy your books, no matter how good they are. Stay real and remember to be thankful for everything that happens.
19. Don’t be afraid. For years, I was afraid of writing an erotic horror poetry collection because I was nervous of how I would be perceived by my readers and colleagues. I sat down a few months ago and made a pro/con list about it, and well, needless to say, I have a market-ready manuscript now. #allthesex
20. Bleed a bit. Not literally of course, but go to places that make you uncomfortable, that make you vulnerable. I’m a big believer in writing as a form of catharsis and not only will your story be better for it, but you’ll feel better as well. Writing AN EXORCISM OF ANGELS saved my life last summer.
21. Get business cards and have them on you at all times.
22. When you get ideas, write them down because I promise you, you’re not going to remember them. Either carry a small notebook around with you or get in the habit of using the note section on your phone.
23. Remember to say thank you to anyone who has given you their time. I’m a big fan of handwritten notes, but you don’t necessarily have to take it to that extent. Just be appreciative and even if things don’t work out, you look professional and they’ll welcome the chance to work with you again.
24. Beta readers are your friends. Find them. Love them. Cherish them.
25. Know your brand and stick to it. I write thematically, and even though I’m not necessarily writing asylum prose anymore, madness will always be my brand and I stick to that and keep that in mind with everything that I write.
26. Learn how to read and understand contracts. If you can’t wrap your head around it, find someone who is familiar with them and ask for their help. Know what you’re signing your name to. Always.
--Stephanie M. Wytovich
March 25, 2015
WYTOVICH SEEKS SINNERS FOR HOLY WAR
"Love is in the air.And it's opening the gates to Hell." An Exorcism of Angels coming this May from Raw Dog Screaming Press
Last summer, I confessed my sins to the Devil and sold my soul at a crossroads in the country, trading everything and everyone I had all for a chance at love. I saw many things in Heaven, made lots of friends in Hell, and I learned how to exorcise angels, how to embrace and accept sin.
This May, I’m giving you, my readers, a taste of my Heaven and of my Hell, but for all of April, I’m painting crosses on your foreheads and teaching you how to pray... Wytovich style. Check in to the MADHOUSE every Tuesday next month where some days I’ll give you penance, and others…well… you’ll just have to wait and see. After all, half the fun of sinning is seeing what you can get away with. So I ask you... Will you sin with me?-Stephanie M. WytovichLustGreedEnvyWrathPride EnvySloth
Last summer, I confessed my sins to the Devil and sold my soul at a crossroads in the country, trading everything and everyone I had all for a chance at love. I saw many things in Heaven, made lots of friends in Hell, and I learned how to exorcise angels, how to embrace and accept sin.
This May, I’m giving you, my readers, a taste of my Heaven and of my Hell, but for all of April, I’m painting crosses on your foreheads and teaching you how to pray... Wytovich style. Check in to the MADHOUSE every Tuesday next month where some days I’ll give you penance, and others…well… you’ll just have to wait and see. After all, half the fun of sinning is seeing what you can get away with. So I ask you... Will you sin with me?-Stephanie M. WytovichLustGreedEnvyWrathPride EnvySloth
February 24, 2015
Tell Me I Can't
Part 4 of 4
Women in Horror Month: Tell Me I Can’t By Stephanie M. Wytovich
My entire life—up until recently—has been about people telling me that I can’t do something. I can’t go to graduate school because I’m throwing my money away. I can’t be a writer because I should be having their babies and thinking about marriage. I shouldn’t be writing horror because I would be more attractive if I wasn’t killing people for a living. I can’t live on my own because I won’t be able to survive…
Damn! Talk about a lot of pressure on my vagina and who’s controlling it…
Needless to say, most—if not all—of those people have ‘ex’ attached to them now, whether they were friend, boyfriend, lover, etc. and oh my God did I just say lover?
Christ, maybe I am a whore?
Ladies don’t like sex!
But hey, maybe I’m not the world’s definition of a lady then? After all, ladies don’t curse and drink whiskey and speak their mind, and ask for equal pay. They don’t stand up for their beliefs, have sex because they want to, decide when they want to get married—IF they want to get married—when they want to have children--IF they want to have children—or do what makes them happy despite what society deems proper or not.
No, ladies don’t do that.
Women do that.
And strong women at that.
So I’d like to take this moment to write some notes to all the men who told me I can’t, because guess what? Despite all of you, I did.
To the man who told me I was throwing my life away on education: Hi. My name is Stephanie Wytovich and I have the initials MFA after my name now. I got my degree while simultaneously writing three books, all of which have been published, two which have been nominated for awards in my field. Also, funny story. Remember how you said I should be a nurse because then I’d actually be able to do something with my life? Well, I become one after all! Meet Hysteria. She’d like to have a word with you.
To the man who told me I should be having his children and taking his name: Hi. Remember me? Yeah, I’m certain that you do. First things first, the very fact that you said this to me despite knowing my dreams and aspirations is proof that you didn’t know my spirit or my soul, and therefore had no chance of implanting your child in me or forcing your ring on my finger. If I want to get married, I will. If I want to have children, I will. You just won’t have a part in it.
To the man who told me he would find me more attractive if I didn’t write horror: Fuck you. You don’t even get a thoughtful response.
To the man who told me I couldn’t survive on my own: Hi. Remember me? See the one thing you underestimated about me when you called me damaged, was that damaged people know how to survive. I know this because I survived you. I may have done it while I was black and blue but I didn’t have to hit a girl to make myself feel like I was in control.
2015, people.
It’s 2015 and we’re still fucking dealing with this.
Being a woman does not in any way, shape, or form, lessen you or your ability to do something. Strong women are nothing less than who they are and who that is just so happens to intimidate weak men. I’m not going to change my life to fit some man’s misogynistic game plan for me, nor am I going to jump just because a man says jump. If I don’t want to do something, I’m not going to do it, but for some reason, men have felt, and continue to feel, that they can do or say whatever they want in an effort to control me. This very matter has become a joke between my father and me because every time I tell him these stories, he looks at me, laughs, and goes, “What idiots. No one tells my baby girl what to do.”
And they don’t. Well, except for my Dad, but even he’ll tell you that more often than not, it doesn’t work for him either. And that’s the thing about my dad. He said he knew I was a fireball the first second he saw me and instead of trying to put out my flames, he encouraged me to use my voice and my words to empower myself and others. That’s why growing up, he taught me how to write, how to defend myself, how to push myself, and how to take no prisoners in anything and everything that I did.
He is the man that has always told me I could.
So now that we’re talking about men who I admire and respect, this is the moment in the month that I’ve been waiting for. I want to write notes to all the men who told me I could, and supported me when I did.
To the man who took me out to dinner, gave me advice on writing and didn’t try to sleep with me after: Hi. Remember me? Of course you do because we’re still in touch and have acquired and maintained a beautiful and healthy friendship over the years. Thank you for believing in me, for encouraging me, and for not only treating me like a woman, but as a colleague as well.
To two of my convention roommates, both of who are men: Hey you guys! Ready for Atlanta? I can’t wait to see the two of you! Both you guys have seen me without makeup, have seen me full on sobbing, and have witnessed me laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe and almost fell off a couch. You’ve shared the great moments with me, and helped me sort through the bad, whether that consisted of a trolley ride in NOLA to the middle of nowhere, or a late night cemetery walk with hard ciders and a lot of anger, you’ve both been there through the absinthe, through the awards, through graduation, and the breakups, and I love you both dearly for that.
To one of my best and dearest friends, who, yes, is a man and also an author: Hi! It seems like we just talked, but that’s probably because we just did. Thank you for always treating me with respect, love, and kindness. It’s a true comfort to know that no matter what is happening in my life, that you will always have my back, both in publishing, and outside of it. We might both be doing the same thing with our lives, but it’s beautiful that it never feels competitive and that we can go out and not talk shop and just be who we really are with each other. See you soon, and yes, I promise, I’ll read the Larson book, okay? Go drink your Gwar.
To my first editor: Hi! As if you don’t already have enough literature and email from me to read—here’s some more! Thank you for taking a chance on me and believing in me right from the start. It’s an honor to have worked, and to be working with you, and your unwavering support in both my work and in myself as an author is exactly what I wish and hope for every woman in this business.
And finally…
To my mentor of eight years: Hi! What a wild and crazy few years it’s been, yeah? Thank you for everything, starting all the way back from day one when I thought I still wanted to become a lawyer. You’ve been my teacher, my mentor, my friend, and my colleague, and even when you’re not teaching me, you still are. I hope that one day I'll become half the teacher/writer that were/are to me.
And that’s it folks! That’s my #WomenInHorrorMonth series. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it and that it touched on some topics that you either wanted to talk about but were too afraid to, or that quite frankly, just needed to be said in general. I had a blast doing this and I want to say thank you to everyone who’s commented and shared my words/pictures this month. Gender equality is a battle, but it helps when there are people like all of you who help fight for it.As a female horror author, I stand by this because both sides of the story need to be shown. Feminism is not an attack on men; it’s a movement for gender equality across the board. As a female author, I stand by this because I’m a professional and deserve to be treated and acknowledged as such.As a female, I stand by this because I believe in gender equality.--Stephanie M. Wytovich
Women in Horror Month: Tell Me I Can’t By Stephanie M. Wytovich
My entire life—up until recently—has been about people telling me that I can’t do something. I can’t go to graduate school because I’m throwing my money away. I can’t be a writer because I should be having their babies and thinking about marriage. I shouldn’t be writing horror because I would be more attractive if I wasn’t killing people for a living. I can’t live on my own because I won’t be able to survive…
Damn! Talk about a lot of pressure on my vagina and who’s controlling it…
Needless to say, most—if not all—of those people have ‘ex’ attached to them now, whether they were friend, boyfriend, lover, etc. and oh my God did I just say lover?
Christ, maybe I am a whore?
Ladies don’t like sex!
But hey, maybe I’m not the world’s definition of a lady then? After all, ladies don’t curse and drink whiskey and speak their mind, and ask for equal pay. They don’t stand up for their beliefs, have sex because they want to, decide when they want to get married—IF they want to get married—when they want to have children--IF they want to have children—or do what makes them happy despite what society deems proper or not.
No, ladies don’t do that.
Women do that.
And strong women at that.
So I’d like to take this moment to write some notes to all the men who told me I can’t, because guess what? Despite all of you, I did.
To the man who told me I was throwing my life away on education: Hi. My name is Stephanie Wytovich and I have the initials MFA after my name now. I got my degree while simultaneously writing three books, all of which have been published, two which have been nominated for awards in my field. Also, funny story. Remember how you said I should be a nurse because then I’d actually be able to do something with my life? Well, I become one after all! Meet Hysteria. She’d like to have a word with you.
To the man who told me I should be having his children and taking his name: Hi. Remember me? Yeah, I’m certain that you do. First things first, the very fact that you said this to me despite knowing my dreams and aspirations is proof that you didn’t know my spirit or my soul, and therefore had no chance of implanting your child in me or forcing your ring on my finger. If I want to get married, I will. If I want to have children, I will. You just won’t have a part in it.To the man who told me he would find me more attractive if I didn’t write horror: Fuck you. You don’t even get a thoughtful response.
To the man who told me I couldn’t survive on my own: Hi. Remember me? See the one thing you underestimated about me when you called me damaged, was that damaged people know how to survive. I know this because I survived you. I may have done it while I was black and blue but I didn’t have to hit a girl to make myself feel like I was in control.
2015, people.
It’s 2015 and we’re still fucking dealing with this.
Being a woman does not in any way, shape, or form, lessen you or your ability to do something. Strong women are nothing less than who they are and who that is just so happens to intimidate weak men. I’m not going to change my life to fit some man’s misogynistic game plan for me, nor am I going to jump just because a man says jump. If I don’t want to do something, I’m not going to do it, but for some reason, men have felt, and continue to feel, that they can do or say whatever they want in an effort to control me. This very matter has become a joke between my father and me because every time I tell him these stories, he looks at me, laughs, and goes, “What idiots. No one tells my baby girl what to do.”
And they don’t. Well, except for my Dad, but even he’ll tell you that more often than not, it doesn’t work for him either. And that’s the thing about my dad. He said he knew I was a fireball the first second he saw me and instead of trying to put out my flames, he encouraged me to use my voice and my words to empower myself and others. That’s why growing up, he taught me how to write, how to defend myself, how to push myself, and how to take no prisoners in anything and everything that I did.
He is the man that has always told me I could.
So now that we’re talking about men who I admire and respect, this is the moment in the month that I’ve been waiting for. I want to write notes to all the men who told me I could, and supported me when I did.
To the man who took me out to dinner, gave me advice on writing and didn’t try to sleep with me after: Hi. Remember me? Of course you do because we’re still in touch and have acquired and maintained a beautiful and healthy friendship over the years. Thank you for believing in me, for encouraging me, and for not only treating me like a woman, but as a colleague as well.
To two of my convention roommates, both of who are men: Hey you guys! Ready for Atlanta? I can’t wait to see the two of you! Both you guys have seen me without makeup, have seen me full on sobbing, and have witnessed me laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe and almost fell off a couch. You’ve shared the great moments with me, and helped me sort through the bad, whether that consisted of a trolley ride in NOLA to the middle of nowhere, or a late night cemetery walk with hard ciders and a lot of anger, you’ve both been there through the absinthe, through the awards, through graduation, and the breakups, and I love you both dearly for that.
To one of my best and dearest friends, who, yes, is a man and also an author: Hi! It seems like we just talked, but that’s probably because we just did. Thank you for always treating me with respect, love, and kindness. It’s a true comfort to know that no matter what is happening in my life, that you will always have my back, both in publishing, and outside of it. We might both be doing the same thing with our lives, but it’s beautiful that it never feels competitive and that we can go out and not talk shop and just be who we really are with each other. See you soon, and yes, I promise, I’ll read the Larson book, okay? Go drink your Gwar.
To my first editor: Hi! As if you don’t already have enough literature and email from me to read—here’s some more! Thank you for taking a chance on me and believing in me right from the start. It’s an honor to have worked, and to be working with you, and your unwavering support in both my work and in myself as an author is exactly what I wish and hope for every woman in this business.
And finally…
To my mentor of eight years: Hi! What a wild and crazy few years it’s been, yeah? Thank you for everything, starting all the way back from day one when I thought I still wanted to become a lawyer. You’ve been my teacher, my mentor, my friend, and my colleague, and even when you’re not teaching me, you still are. I hope that one day I'll become half the teacher/writer that were/are to me.
And that’s it folks! That’s my #WomenInHorrorMonth series. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it and that it touched on some topics that you either wanted to talk about but were too afraid to, or that quite frankly, just needed to be said in general. I had a blast doing this and I want to say thank you to everyone who’s commented and shared my words/pictures this month. Gender equality is a battle, but it helps when there are people like all of you who help fight for it.As a female horror author, I stand by this because both sides of the story need to be shown. Feminism is not an attack on men; it’s a movement for gender equality across the board. As a female author, I stand by this because I’m a professional and deserve to be treated and acknowledged as such.As a female, I stand by this because I believe in gender equality.--Stephanie M. Wytovich
February 17, 2015
Take the Whore out of Horror
Part 3 of 4:
Women in Horror Month: Take the ‘Whore’ out of ‘Horror’
By Stephanie M. Wytovich
My rock n’ roll self was at a jazz concert the other night. I traded in my whiskey for a glass of Merlot and I sat there in my work clothes—I had a late night counseling and planning for residency—humming along to the soft, soothing voice of the bass as Imagineby The Beatles stroked the air. I was chatting with some people, making friends, networking in the city, and [insert random unnamed person here] asked me what I did for a living. As per usual, I told him/her that I’m a writer, all the while wincing at the inevitable response that I knew I would get in return.
Here’s the conversation, word for word—and it’s one of those conversations where if I had a nickel for every time I had it, well, let’s just say I could be in a flat in New Orleans writing for the summer.
Stranger: “Writer, huh. So what do you write?”
Me: “I write speculative fiction.”
Stranger: “What does that mean?”
Me: “Genre fiction. I’m a horror writer.”
Stranger: “A whore writer?” *immature giggles*
Me: “No, a horror writer? *death stare*
Stranger: “Same thing. So whore fiction, eh?
Now, because I’m a classy, well-mannered woman—and because I’ve spent too much money on my rings to see them broken—I didn’t, and don’t, hit these people, even though they’ve blatantly called me a whore straight to my face, and not only that, but they’ve laughed at me, as well. I have to sit here and wonder if something like this would ever be said to a man, and I’m willing to be bet that it wouldn’t. For some reason, it seems like people have an easier time talking down to women because they think that we’re not strong enough to stand up for ourselves, or that we find it funny, and acceptable, to be spoken to as such. Well, guess what. We don’t. Say it to me again, and I’m going to very explicitly tell you where you can stick your opinion, because, guess what, I have standards and I take pride in what I do. This entire culture of slut shaming, and calling women names, i.e. bitches, whores, skanks, etc. is not only offensive, but a backwards step for gender equality and equality in general.
In addition to that, let’s talk age, because that’s the next thing that always gets brought up. I’m 25 years old yet people still call me “girl” or “kid.” So now, accordingly to the population, I’m not only a whore but a childish whore for writing what I write.
Let’s take a moment and look at the reality of this compared to the stereotypical picture that is portrayed by a young female writing horror.
The reality of this is that I’m a professional, I’m a woman, and I support myself by writing dark fiction and working in the writing industry. At 25, I have written five books, two of which have already been published, 1 of which is in its final editing stages, and the other two are set for publication this year. I have two degrees, have been an editor at a small press for two years, and I’m working full-time in the fields that I got both my degrees in. Oh, and last time I checked, I pay my bills and live my life as an adult and--that's right!--without supervision.
But yeah, I write horror so don’t take me seriously.
After all, I’m just a whore.
And apparently a childish one at that.
See the problem here?
This issue, beyond everyissue that there is in publishing, and in horror, is what I have the biggest problem with. I’ve talked about stigmas and clichés a lot this month, but the notion that women in horror are nothing more than what their bodies portray them to be, is ridiculous. And it’s immature. And it’s offensive.
We are WOMEN working in HORROR and we are PROFESSIONALS.
Yes, I capitalized/bolded those specific words for emphasis—almost like I’m screaming and throwing a tantrum--because that’s what ‘kids’ do when they want to make a point and be heard.
You know, the whole point of this series is to raise awareness for how women are treated in the horror industry. I’ve experienced the above confrontation countless times, and I’ve experienced other situations that are more extreme and that I don’t care to write about, because again, I’m a classy, well-mannered woman. But it happens, and it happened when I started in this industry and it’s still happening three years later. Thankfully, my mother and my mentors raised me/taught me/ and guided me to be a strong woman and I can look past it. What I can’t look past is the culture of the genre I love celebrating women as whores. Let’s drop the whore out of horror, let’s drop the objectification of females as victims, and for the great love of Cthulu, let’s all just realize that the label of female horror writer shouldn’t even exist.
We’re all writers.
We’re all professionals.
It’s as simple and true as that.
SIDE NOTE:
I do, however, want to say that most of my experiences with this have come outside of the publishing industry. Sure, there have been a few bumps along the way, but I feel that's it's important for me to say that the men I know in the industry are some of the kindest, most caring gentleman that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. They’ve been wonderfully supportive to me as a writer, and as a friend, and I can guarantee you that if a conversation like the above happened in front of them that I wouldn’t be the only one clenching my fists. How do I know this? Because I've seen it happen. I've had men defend me at horror conferences, and I've had men stand up for me in academia. Case in point, this isn't some feminist rant. It may be a male-dominated field, but the men I work, teach, read, and write with are wonderful, and my life is better for knowing them. Truly. I raise my glass to these men in love and in thanks for always being there fore me--and I feel confident that they all know who they are. As a female horror author, I stand by this because there needs to be awareness for the fact that this stereotyping and prejudice is still happening both inside the genre, and outside of it.As a female author, I stand by this because I’m a professional and deserve to be treated and acknowledged as such.As a female, I stand by this because I believe in gender equality.
--Stephanie M. Wytovich
Women in Horror Month: Take the ‘Whore’ out of ‘Horror’
By Stephanie M. Wytovich
My rock n’ roll self was at a jazz concert the other night. I traded in my whiskey for a glass of Merlot and I sat there in my work clothes—I had a late night counseling and planning for residency—humming along to the soft, soothing voice of the bass as Imagineby The Beatles stroked the air. I was chatting with some people, making friends, networking in the city, and [insert random unnamed person here] asked me what I did for a living. As per usual, I told him/her that I’m a writer, all the while wincing at the inevitable response that I knew I would get in return.
Here’s the conversation, word for word—and it’s one of those conversations where if I had a nickel for every time I had it, well, let’s just say I could be in a flat in New Orleans writing for the summer.
Stranger: “Writer, huh. So what do you write?”
Me: “I write speculative fiction.”
Stranger: “What does that mean?”
Me: “Genre fiction. I’m a horror writer.”
Stranger: “A whore writer?” *immature giggles*
Me: “No, a horror writer? *death stare*
Stranger: “Same thing. So whore fiction, eh?
Now, because I’m a classy, well-mannered woman—and because I’ve spent too much money on my rings to see them broken—I didn’t, and don’t, hit these people, even though they’ve blatantly called me a whore straight to my face, and not only that, but they’ve laughed at me, as well. I have to sit here and wonder if something like this would ever be said to a man, and I’m willing to be bet that it wouldn’t. For some reason, it seems like people have an easier time talking down to women because they think that we’re not strong enough to stand up for ourselves, or that we find it funny, and acceptable, to be spoken to as such. Well, guess what. We don’t. Say it to me again, and I’m going to very explicitly tell you where you can stick your opinion, because, guess what, I have standards and I take pride in what I do. This entire culture of slut shaming, and calling women names, i.e. bitches, whores, skanks, etc. is not only offensive, but a backwards step for gender equality and equality in general.
In addition to that, let’s talk age, because that’s the next thing that always gets brought up. I’m 25 years old yet people still call me “girl” or “kid.” So now, accordingly to the population, I’m not only a whore but a childish whore for writing what I write.
Let’s take a moment and look at the reality of this compared to the stereotypical picture that is portrayed by a young female writing horror.
The reality of this is that I’m a professional, I’m a woman, and I support myself by writing dark fiction and working in the writing industry. At 25, I have written five books, two of which have already been published, 1 of which is in its final editing stages, and the other two are set for publication this year. I have two degrees, have been an editor at a small press for two years, and I’m working full-time in the fields that I got both my degrees in. Oh, and last time I checked, I pay my bills and live my life as an adult and--that's right!--without supervision.
But yeah, I write horror so don’t take me seriously.
After all, I’m just a whore.
And apparently a childish one at that.
See the problem here?
This issue, beyond everyissue that there is in publishing, and in horror, is what I have the biggest problem with. I’ve talked about stigmas and clichés a lot this month, but the notion that women in horror are nothing more than what their bodies portray them to be, is ridiculous. And it’s immature. And it’s offensive.
We are WOMEN working in HORROR and we are PROFESSIONALS.
Yes, I capitalized/bolded those specific words for emphasis—almost like I’m screaming and throwing a tantrum--because that’s what ‘kids’ do when they want to make a point and be heard.You know, the whole point of this series is to raise awareness for how women are treated in the horror industry. I’ve experienced the above confrontation countless times, and I’ve experienced other situations that are more extreme and that I don’t care to write about, because again, I’m a classy, well-mannered woman. But it happens, and it happened when I started in this industry and it’s still happening three years later. Thankfully, my mother and my mentors raised me/taught me/ and guided me to be a strong woman and I can look past it. What I can’t look past is the culture of the genre I love celebrating women as whores. Let’s drop the whore out of horror, let’s drop the objectification of females as victims, and for the great love of Cthulu, let’s all just realize that the label of female horror writer shouldn’t even exist.
We’re all writers.
We’re all professionals.
It’s as simple and true as that.
SIDE NOTE:
I do, however, want to say that most of my experiences with this have come outside of the publishing industry. Sure, there have been a few bumps along the way, but I feel that's it's important for me to say that the men I know in the industry are some of the kindest, most caring gentleman that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. They’ve been wonderfully supportive to me as a writer, and as a friend, and I can guarantee you that if a conversation like the above happened in front of them that I wouldn’t be the only one clenching my fists. How do I know this? Because I've seen it happen. I've had men defend me at horror conferences, and I've had men stand up for me in academia. Case in point, this isn't some feminist rant. It may be a male-dominated field, but the men I work, teach, read, and write with are wonderful, and my life is better for knowing them. Truly. I raise my glass to these men in love and in thanks for always being there fore me--and I feel confident that they all know who they are. As a female horror author, I stand by this because there needs to be awareness for the fact that this stereotyping and prejudice is still happening both inside the genre, and outside of it.As a female author, I stand by this because I’m a professional and deserve to be treated and acknowledged as such.As a female, I stand by this because I believe in gender equality.
--Stephanie M. Wytovich
