It's my pleasure to bring you a very insightful and interesting interview with author Simon Strantzas. Simon, like myself, is from the Toronto area where he lives with his wife.
He is the author of two collections of short stories and another, Nightingale Songs, coming soon from
Dark Regions Press (DRP).
In 2009 Tartarus Press published
Cold To The Touch, while DRP reprinted Simon's first collection
Beneath The Surface in 2010. His stories have appeared in Cemetery Dance Magazine, The Mammoth Book Of Best New Horror and Postscripts.
If you get the chance to pick up one of his collections, you're in for a uniquely dark reading experience!
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The Man Eating Bookworm (MEB): Welcome to The Man Eating Bookworm, Simon. How are things?
Simon Strantzas (SS): Very good. Thank you for having me.
MEB: A little background for the Wormies. You and I go way back. All the way back to high school, in fact. You were one of my best buds. You introduced me to kick-ass rock bands before they were popular (Faith No More and Soundgarden, to name a couple), books and authors (Peter Straub's Ghost Story and If You Could See Me Now) and comics (Hellboy and Preacher). Some of my fondest memories are of us at The Dip N' Sip shootin' the breeze about everything from the early Preacher comics, South Park, to John Carpenter's The Thing. And of course we talked about story ideas and dreaming of one day getting published.
Share with us the moment when you first realized you wanted to be a writer.
SS: I don't think I can pinpoint the exact moment I wanted to be a writer. It was one of those things that snuck up on me. Like many of my contemporaries, I've written all my life, but I didn’t envision being a writer for a very long time. In hindsight, I can only assume I wrote for the sake of writing, to somehow drain the buildup of creativity that often flooded my being, because I have no distinct memory of wanting to be anything more than a comic book artist.
When that dream died, I did nothing but wrap myself in reading and working a low-paying day job. These were dark days for me for a variety of reasons, and I continued to spiral into the darkness with nothing to hold onto. I like to imagine I hit rock bottom, I'm not sure, but I remember vividly standing in my empty apartment, looking back on a life of missed opportunities, and asking myself, "What do you want that would fulfill you?" The answer was: I want to be a writer. Once I understood this, I was determined to make it a reality, because I knew I had no other choice.
MEB: A lot of genre writers are writing for comics these days, or seeing their work adapted into graphic novels (examples which immediately spring to mind are Stephen King, Joe Hill, Dean Koontz, Brian Keene, Jonathan Mayberry and Joe R. Lansdale). Has your success as a writer returned any life to that dream of working in comics? And if so, which of your stories would you most like to see adapted and why?
SS: The medium of comics is different from both film and prose, in that it does some things well that the other cannot, and vice versa. Frankly, I don't believe my fiction lends itself very well to comics. The bulk of what my fiction is about what happens off the page, and I don't believe a visual medium is best equipped to handle that. The only way to really convey this aspect is through straight prose.
But I must admit the idea of writing something new for comics intrigues me. I know a few authors who have pitched to the big two, or been approached by them for work, and though none of those have panned out yet, it's clear that there are more and more openings for prose writers in the field. For now, though, I'm content to focus on what I do best and continue to build a reputation. There is plenty of time to explore writing in other mediums later.
MEB: In the afterword to your critically acclaimed collection Beneath The Surface (one of my personal favourite pieces) you express the importance of dreams in relation to your fiction. This is not an uncommon theme with genre writers. I wonder, what is it that causes us to dream darkly? Is there something wrong with us? Or are we simply susceptible to some otherworldly force, being used to bring down the borders between worlds (as you eloquently suggest in your afterword)?
SS: Well, let's take that afterword with a grain of salt, shall we? But it's true: dreams have power, especially in fiction. I believe all acts of writing, as well as acts of reading, are engagements with our dream-selves. But why should we write and read something as dark as horror? What is it that drives the darkness? I don't know if I can answer that. I've often felt my connection to the field of horror differs from many of my contemporaries. I have no real affinity for ghouls or goblins or monsters. What I connect with are themes and images of a bizarre world, a broken reality that only has a home in horror fiction. It's the willingness to see awe and beauty in the dark and twisted, and though I believe this willingness sets me apart from most people walking this earth, I don't necessarily believe it puts me in the same camp as those who might want to write about zombies or serial killers or other creatures of the night. Though I am proud to call myself a Horror writer (please don't misunderstand) I feel less like I work in a specific genre, and more like I'm a writer who just happens to focus on the strange and bizarre. I expect this sentiment isn't exactly uncommon, but it can be seen as blasphemous by those who consider themselves true horror fans.
MEB: The city (in the case of your writing, Toronto) plays a vital role in many of your stories. What is it about the landscape and texture of our urban living space that speaks to you?
SS: I should preface this with saying that the city in many of my stories shares street names and some geography with Toronto, but it's not really Toronto. Or, perhaps more accurately, it's an alternate Toronto, one where the uncanny happens. Nevertheless, urban living does indeed play a large role in my earlier fiction. In honesty, I quite enjoy urban life, yet there's no denying that it can take its toll. The grime, the dirt, the daily confrontation of homelessness and the clinically ill, the lack of green space, the claustrophobic conditions of travel, and of people living and working one on top of the other ... I could go on. Despite my love for the city, and for Toronto in particular, there is so much about urban living that seems designed to break the will of all who participate. The fiction I have written that explores this landscape tries to shine a light on the despair this life can cause, especially for the sorts of characters I tend to traffic in -- people who are uncomfortable in their own skin, and unable to form meaningful relationships with others.
MEB: Besides being an accomplished writer, you've been known to create the odd book cover or two for other writers. With the sudden flood of e-books hitting the market, have you given any thought to hanging out a shingle?
SS: For a time, I did, but I quickly grew too busy with writing to find time for this sort of work. But I also grew concerned. It's very easy to become pigeonholed as doing a certain thing, and when one attempts to do something else, there is a tendency to be looked down upon. I did not want said of me, "Oh, so that writer thinks he can be a designer?" Or even worse, "That designer thinks he can be a writer?" By doing too much, I believe one runs the risk of damping one's reputation. In order to succeed (whatever that might mean) I think a single, pure message must be delivered. I am a writer. I would like to be viewed as a writer. So, to do anything else would only compromise that.
Were I able to step back in time, I should think I would have preferred to use a pseudonym for any artwork I generated. This would be the ideal way of handling the situation. But I came across the idea too late, and to do so now feels as though I've locked the barn door after the horse has already left. Besides, as I said, I haven't much time for artwork any longer anyway.
MEB: Since, as you nicely put, the horse is already out of the barn, let me say that your work on Gary McMahon's How To Make Monsters is a favorite of mine. Creepy as hell!
SS: Many people like that one best, but I must admit I'm partial to the original cover for my first book, Beneath the Surface. I feel it better achieves a three-dimensional image. It's not quite as disturbing, though, which is why I imagine How to Make Monsters gets all the accolades.
MEB: Some writers need peace and quite to work. Others prefer the raucous noise of a busy coffee shop or James Hetfield roaring in their ears to get anything done. Some authors can write anywhere under any circumstances. What do you require?
SS: I require near absolute quiet to work, or if not quiet then perhaps some instrumental ambient. Nothing with singing. I believe the act of writing fiction is akin to the act of dreaming, so when I prepare to write I must be in a near dream-like state. Loud music, crashing guitars -- these things only keep me awake and tied to this plane of consciousness. Because so much of my fiction involves the unconscious, it in effect locks me away from what I need most. Added to this is my propensity for procrastination: I'll take any opportunity to avoid writing. Music and other loud noises only serve to distract me from working.
MEB: For me the call of the Internet, Youtube, Twitter and Facebook are my biggest nemeses. And of course blogging. It seems these things and the points you made, are the daily traps writers need to navigate.
SS: Some of these activities are necessary for the writer with a burgeoning career -- I’ve sold more than a few books to people I met through these venues, but the trick is moderation (as it is with everything). One must be disciplined, and learn to put away the distractions to get down to the real work. That’s one of the biggest challenges we face today, or it can be.
MEB: Let’s talk about influences for a minute. Which dead writers have had the biggest impact on your writing and why?
SS: Fritz Leiber for his modernizing and urbanizing of the ghost story. His stories "Smoke Ghost" and "The Black Gondolier" are touchstones for my work. Also, of course, Robert Aickman's use of nightmare logic and subtextual plots have greatly affected my own work. Without these gentlemen, I'd have nothing.
MEB: What about living writers? Who has had an influence on your writing and why?
SS: The list is long and varied, but I imagine names like Ramsey Campbell, Peter Straub, Thomas Ligotti, Steve Rasnic Tem, and others would come as no surprise. I prefer literate quiet horror, which leaves behind the bulk of the American writers working in the Bradbury mold. If anything, my tastes lean toward the British and the European.
All the above said, I want to make a special point to mention female writers, past and present, who may not have a direct influence on my work, are still part of the tapestry that contributes to my fictional outlook. Authors like Elizabeth Jane Howard, Shirley Jackson, Edith Wharton, Lisa Tuttle, Melanie Tem, as so on.
MEB: You mention a lot of writers I need to explore. I’ve been sitting on my laurels for far too long when it comes to many of those names.
So whom are you reading these days? Any particular books you feel the Wormies out there should be picking up (besides anything by those you have already mentioned)?
SS: Canada is experiencing such a wave of new fiction that I feel the need to call attention to my native brethren. Writers like Richard Gavin and Michael Kelly are both doing fantastic work that leaves me in jealous awe. Barbara Roden's prose is elegant and beautiful, and she understands the power of understatement. And then there's ChiZine Books, with a stable that includes the wonderful Ian Rogers and Michael Rowe, as well as other Canadian masters of the dark. Anyone not paying attention to what they're doing at CZP is really doing themselves a disservice. This is world-class fiction.
Other than above, I've been reading and enjoying writers like Livia Llewellyn, Joseph Pulver, John Langan, Laird Barron, Reggie Oliver, Daniel Mills, Gary McMahon, Matt Cardin. Sales for horror fiction may not be where they were twenty or thirty years ago, but never has the selection of well-written fiction been greater. I'm honoured to count these people among my peers.
MEB: Now we come to my favourite part of the interviews. Let’s talk about the future. You have a lot of upcoming projects soon to reach readers eager little fingers. For starters we've got your third short story collection, called Nightingale Songs, to look forward to. What can you tell us about it?
MEB: What is it like to have your story Pinholes In Black Muslin translated and appearing in the premier issue of the Japanese magazine Night Land? And how did that come about?
SS: I was approached by the editor of the magazine and asked specifically for the tale. The journal is very new, and thus I'd heard nothing of it until then, but time has indicated the forces behind the project have lofty goals for its pages, and the contributors they are drawing from at this stage are of a very high calibre. I'm thrilled and honoured that my story has been selected to run within its pages. It will also be the first translation of my fiction at any length for another language, and based on Japan's historical love of the weird and supernatural, I'm hopeful it sells like gangbusters. I only wish I could read Japanese so I too might enjoy reading it!
MEB: Choujou, kaonajimi!
One project I'm particularly excited about, as a reader, is Slices Of Flesh. The line-up is a veritable who's who of the horror genre, with Mike Mignola doing the cover art. How does it feel to be included in the same collection as legends Ramsey Campbell, Jack Ketchum, Graham Masterton and Michael Slade, to name just a few?
SS: Very exciting, to say the least. Many of the names you've mentioned and others in the book are writers of which I'm an immense fan, and to share space with them, even in so limited a fashion as flash fiction is a dream come true. Some of the pieces in the book will be reprints, but my own is a new tale written especially for the volume. I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out, and hope it stands well alongside the top-tier line-up the editor has assembled for the volume. And to have Mignola provide the cover? I'm speechless! Is there any better monster maker working in comics today? I'm thrilled he was able to find time to contribute a new piece to this not-for-profit venture.
MEB: Mignola is great. And the cover looks fantastic. For readers interested they can pre-order the book after the first of the year, via Dark Moon Books and will be launched at the World Horror Convention 2012 in Salt Lake City.
Simon, thanks for hanging out!
SS: It was my pleasure, old chum.
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I'd like to take this moment to thank Simon again for taking time out of his busy schedule to answer my questions.
You can find his website
here.
Bryan Smith is the author of such modern cult classics as 
