Nancy Kilpatrick is the author of 18 novels, more
than 200 short stories, and 5 story collections. She has also edited 12
anthologies. Although Nancy is best known for her vampire-themed books and
stories, she’s also written in the genres of dark fantasy, mystery, erotic
horror, and more. Fangoria called her “Canada’s answer to Anne Rice.” She’s
also been published under her pseudonyms Amarantha Knight and Desiree Knight.
Her hobbies include visiting cemeteries, colleting macabre artwork, and
traveling the world in search of things dark and mysterious to fuel her
writing.
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What has proved most outstanding to me during my seemingly
unnatural life in general, and my protracted career in particular, has been
luck. "Luck," the Roman philosopher Seneca said, "is what
happens when preparation meets opportunity." I would add to that statement
three more elements I consider crucial, especially for women writers: bravery, flexibility,
intuition.
____________________
Back in the late 1980s when I was a young writer, I
was a member of a writers' workshop. It was a diverse group, 4 of us the core who
stayed together for 10 years while others came and went. At our max we numbered
30, but usually about 8 to 10 writers-in-the-making came to the monthly
meetings.
I'd been writing horror for a while, getting a bit
published here and there, and before that had a flirtation with lit fic, which
I also had some success with, but didn't like how plotless literary fiction had
become--I adore plot and the horror genre excels at plotting.
For no particular reason, I wrote a mystery story.
Well, there was a reason. Back then, I was taking part-time jobs in order to
eat and give myself time to write. I did the usual types of unskilled work and
in the mid-1980s was employed as a part-time security guard at the Royal
Ontario Museum in Toronto for a five month gig, guarding the special exhibition
Georgian Canada-Conflict and Culture
1745-1820. That period covers the reigns of the British Kings George II and
George III.
It was a job I loathed. Four hours a day of eagle-eyeing
people and repeating, "The washrooms are at the end of the exhibit"
and "Please don't touch the paintings/furniture/objets d'art..."
When the exhibit closed, I was invited to stay on as
a security guard with the permanent exhibits. I should have said no, but if I
had, this blog entry would be about something else.
Only someone who has worked in such a capacity in a
museum can grasp the extent of the boredom. Like any somewhat-intelligent person,
I had envisioned working in a museum as a wonderful opportunity. I'd get to view
and study exhibits every day! What could
be more inspiring?
What could be more mundane? Try spending five days a
week standing in the same room on aching feet, staring at the same items hour after
hour each day, reading and re-reading the accompanying info, until finally, after
what feels like a century and the cerebral cortex is near death, seemingly
mercifully you are re-assigned and shuffle zombie-like to a different gallery,
only to repeat.
After the re-employment, one of my new jobs was
responding to security alarms. The museum had a unique security system so if
someone tried to grab an antiquity and scoot out through a Do Not Enter door, an alarm would go off and they would find
themselves trapped, unable to get back into the museum, unable to get outside. That
was the theory, anyway.
(A few years later, when I was still writing for
magazines, I interviewed the head of security--my former employer--and it turns
out there were thefts despite this security system! But I digress.)
Out of this wretched work experience came my first
mystery story, which began with an alarm that led the protagonist to
investigate the tunnel trap called a 'mantrap', where a fictional body was
found.
My then husband was an avid mystery reader. I was
not. I'd read a few mysteries and enjoyed them but didn't think they went far
enough--horror was my thing. But I was curious to see if I could write a
mystery, so I did. I showed the short story to my husband. He hated it. He
could barely express how much was wrong with the story. I took it to my
writers' workshop. Everyone there hated it too, including the people who read
and wrote mysteries. A tad shell-shocked--I'd thought it was a pretty decent
story--, I stuck the MS in a drawer and forgot about it...
...until a contest appeared out of nowhere. An
anthology, with a $10 entrance fee, that wanted mystery stories. I yanked my who-done-it
from purgatory, revised it a tad, showed it to hubby, who still hated it, and
the workshop members, who still hated it too. I've always possessed a kind-of
'Sod Off!' undercurrent to my attitude, so I sent it to the contest anyway.
Lo and behold, the editor Michael Crawley phoned me
and said he loved my story and it was to be one of the 10 winners. I'd be paid!
I'd be published in the anthology Murder,
Mystery & Mayhem! Wow!
Soon after the publication, I attended Bouchercon,
which happened to be in my city that year. I'd never been to a mystery
convention and while I had only one mystery story to my name with no intention
at that time of writing another, I decided to go and see if, as I'd heard,
mystery writers really did roll up the proverbial sidewalks at 9 pm (they do!) While there, I found an intriguing panel: a
forensics coroner was speaking about dead bodies--who could resist? I wandered
over to find not just a seriously packed room but SRO far out into the hallway.
I checked the program book and glumly thought, okay,
I'll go to the short story editors' panel instead. I sat down and listened. One
of the panelist was Ed Hoch. I had no idea who he was. He did say if anyone had
a story published in the previous year to send it to him for his best-of antho--he
reads everything. After the panel I went up to him and explained what a small
anthology my story was in but he gave me his card and said send it anyway. I
did.
Ed Hoch turned out to be the long-time editor of The Year's Best Mystery and Suspense
anthology series. I was not one of those selected for inclusion in his next
year's-best, but he did give me an honorable mention.
Meanwhile, Ed, unknown to me, submitted my story to
the *Arthur Ellis Mystery Awards, in
the short fiction category. I was not a member of the CWC and had no idea my
story was submitted until I received a call from David Skene-Melvin, then secretary-treasurer
of the organization, who informed me that my sole mystery effort
"Mantrap" was a finalist and because of that he invited me to the *Arthur Ellis Awards dinner. I made some
excuse for not going. Although I felt thrilled and vindicated that my grisly
little tale which my now-sheepish husband and fellow workshop members had disparaged
had reached such heights, I was under no illusion that I would win. I didn't
write mysteries. The other finalists were well-known; no one knew me. Obviously
a real mystery writer deserved the award, someone published in Ellery Queen Magazine, or in a major
anthology... Yadda Yadda Yadda.
David phoned me three times, the magic number. Finally,
arm twisted, I dragged my husband with me to a classic restaurant downtown. Surrounded
by a walnut decor and somewhat impressed by real linen napkins, we consumed our
prime rib seated by ourselves at a somewhat isolated table for two because we
knew no one. After dinner, speeches were made and then winners announced. I
recall feeling antsy, constantly checking the Victorian-style wristwatch I relied
on in those days, glancing at my husband's bored face, at my empty wine glass,
around a room full of strangers with names I had not heard before that night, wondering
when this would be over so I could escape.
My name was called. I was the winner in the short
story category. I sat stunned while people clapped and finally my husband
nudged me and said 'You have to go say something'. Like a deer caught in the
headlights, I stood at the podium and have no clue what I mumbled. Of course I
hadn't prepared anything like a speech, or even a few words, and I'm sure I didn't
remember names or thank anyone. But I came home with a hanging man, the *Arthur Ellis Award for the best short
story of the year.
Does any of the above have to do with being female,
or with being a female horror writer? I have no idea. I am female and I love
reading, viewing and writing/editing, and my preferred arena is horror, so
that's my perspective on my life and my career and pretty much defines me.
I may, though, have stumbled upon a few ideas over
my female horror-writer lifetime that could be useful to either gender but
especially for women. So,...saith I:
- I strongly believe that anything can happen to
anybody, good or bad, because life is fragile, chaotic and unpredictable and not
for the faint-of-heart. Don't take things personally.
- You need to have faith in yourself because there
will be times when no one else does.
- Respecting intuition is the key to what life and
writing are about. Following intuition means something will happen. It might not lead to the desired goal, but
the process along the way is what gives life and writing value and will surely take
you somewhere.
- I trust what the I CHING (Chinese Book of Changes) says, 'Perseverance Furthers',
because giving up is its own reward.
- It's important to be bold, even when fearful, even
when that results in looking stupid and your work is deemed worthless. Even
when friends and loved ones are angry with you for stepping outside what they had
expect of you.
- I recommend developing a rhino skin because
publishing, like life, is often unfair and there is little justice. Writing is
fun, fulfilling, enlivening, expanding. Publishing can be that but often seems
to be a rather nasty business full of pettiness, and more failures than
successes, painful rejections and occasionally vile treatment that will make
you, at times, vacillate between wanting to tear the head off the next living
thing that crosses your path, and hiding under the duvet and sobbing your heart
out. Anger has a purpose--it's a good fuel as long as the driver using it is
conscious of that old adage: harm no one, including yourself. And every tear strengthens
as long as it's just the skin that hardens and not the soul--killing the soul
kills creativity.
Finally, I offer this further unsolicited advice:
- It's your life, so live it; if you don't live it
you're wasting it.
- Trust yourself and don't be afraid to take risks.
- It's important to step outside the horror box now
and again into the larger world of literature, in what you read and what you
write. Explore new genres, just for the hell of it; you never know where
anything will lead.
_______________________________________________________________
*Arthur
Ellis was the pseudonym for Arthur Bartholomew English, the last hangman
in Canada. His career and the practice of hanging the convicted ceased abruptly
in 1935 when the wrong weight was given for Thomasina Sarao--a woman who
murdered her husband for the insurance money. Instead of death by hanging, she
was accidentally beheaded.
_______________________________________________________________
Multiple
award-winning writer and editor Nancy
Kilpatrick has published 18 novels, over 220 short stories, 7 collections
of her stories, 1 non-fiction book, and has edited 15 anthologies, including
the latest, nEvermore! Tales of Murder,
Mystery & the Macabre. Her graphic
novel Nancy Kilpatrick's Vampyre Theater
will be out soon from PreForce Publishing. Her work has been translated into and
published in 6 languages. Recent short fiction can be found in: Innsmouth Nightmares; Blood Sisters:Vampire
Stories by Women; The Madness of Cthulhu 2; Kolchak: The Night Stalker Passages
of the Macabre, and in the upcoming Let
Us In; Morbid Metamorphosis:Terrifying Tales of Transformation; Black Wings 5;
Dreams From the Witch House; Gothic Lovecraft; Nightmare's Realm. Since
writing "Mantrap", Nancy has gone on to publish 8 mystery stories.
Join
her on:
Facebook:
nancy.kilpatrick.31
Twitter:
@nancykwriter
Website (in need of
updating): nancykilpatrick.com
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