The Floating Dead

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A while back I was part of the cattle call for what became this article, and just found myself looking this email up as a student was coming to my office to talk about ghosts. So I figured it'd be good if I could see again what I think about them (I know nothing until I write it down, and then, because it's written down, I don't need to try to remember it). Anyway, couple of friends — Laird Barron, Paul Tremblay — got in the article, so all's good and well. Except of course that there are ghosts. And this is how I talk about them: If you write ghost fiction, why do you do so? Yeah, I write them sometimes. Because they make the world magic. The premise under every ghost story is that there's more to this world than we think we know. We're not as alone as what we thought. Sure, after an encounter with this or that ghost, we might wish we were alone, but the thing to remember is that if there's terrifying immaterial things like ghosts, then that's wedging the door open, allowing all kinds of other stuff through as well. And some of it's bound to be good. Maybe there's a unicorn over there as well. What appeals to you about the form? I like the rational resistance characters — as our avatars — always initially have towards ghosts, and then their slow acceptance. That little arc of realization is inherently dramatic, is tailored for fiction. And  . . . → → →