Thoughts on Beloved by Toni Morrison and Horror’s Literary Problem

Literary horror lovers, look no further. I’ve found it.

If The Shining is exemplary of commercial horror and House of Leaves of experimental horror, then Beloved is unquestionably the finest example of literary horror I’ve ever read.

I finished this novel by Toni Morrison over a week ago, and I’m still wrecked. Wrecked. Beloved is the most beautiful, chilling, heartbreaking, and ambitious novel I’ve ever read. One reviewer called it the great American novel, and I think I agree.

This is a difficult book to describe without giving things away. Instead of summarizing it for you, I’ll just link to the Goodreads summary of Beloved. Even that summary hints at but doesn’t tell what the book is really about, because Morrison’s reveal is slow and insidious and utterly unnerving. If you can get on board with this book without spoiling it for yourself, I say go for it.

I will give a disclaimer: this book is absolutely not for everybody. Many, many people just don’t like literary fiction. Many, many people don’t enjoy horror. This book is well and truly both, so I imagine the target audience (me, me, me!) is fairly small. If you want an easy read that gives you the answers, you’re going to absolutely hate this novel. If you like to feel comfortable and safe and inspired, you’re going to absolutely hate this novel. Beloved is difficult, daring, and thought-provoking. It’s gut-wrenching, dark, and frightening on many levels. If all of those adjectives piqued your interest, Beloved is probably for you.

Holy book gods, was it ever for me. How often do you find a book that challenges your mind, breaks your heart, shivers your spine, and tears out your guts?

It is worth mentioning that I happened to pick this one up as an audiobook instead of printed. I didn’t even realize until after I bought it that it was read by the author, but what a treat that turned out to be. Toni Morrison’s voice is spellbinding, and of course since she wrote the book, her reading was spot-on, using the perfect emphasis, tone, etc. throughout. I was really carried away by it. I felt immersed. Despite Beloved’s somewhat slow plot (lots of character backstory and time hopping), the pace never felt slow to me. I found myself making up excuses to listen longer. (Clean the house! Go to the gym! Do that errand that’s twenty minutes away…) I note the audio version not just because it was so good, but also because I read in reviews that the formatting/prose of the book was extra difficult for some readers. If you’re a reader who struggles with written dialect, stylistic punctuation, etc., then the audio might alleviate some of that.

The most amusing part of reading through reviews of this book were the claims that this novel isn’t horror. I know I talk about this a lot, but it’s because it directly impacts my life as an artist. Let me introduce you to a neat little bit of hypocrisy:

“Horror these days is all genre garbage. There’s nothing left but slasher trash and torture porn.”

That’s not horror; it has a message. It’s way too deep and meaningful to be shoved into the ‘horror’ genre.”

If you can’t see the problem here, I don’t know what to tell you. I believe you might be bias-blind.

If ever you’ve thought either of those things, I would encourage you to give Beloved a try. You very well may not like it, but it’s hard for me to fathom how anyone could not at least appreciate it. And to my eyes, unless your definitions are so narrow as to be utterly useless, it’s inarguably literary–and inarguably horror.

So why the great American novel? Well, I can say without spoiling anything that this novel tackles head-on the largest skeleton in our country’s closet: slavery. And Morrison doesn’t do it in a trite way. Nor does she do it in a sweeping, epic way. She does it in an intimate, unshakable, impactful way.

Beloved uses the best of everything to its advantage. In the horror realm, Morrison is almost a literary Jack Ketchum–reminding us quite painfully that the deepest horrors are the real ones, the ones drawn from truth. She doesn’t hold back on the supernatural horror, either, but there are no parlor tricks here, no shock value. The supernatural element in Beloved is carefully chosen to support and expand the themes and messages of the book. We’re left terrified in a way that means something, shaken by the reality of our very history, our very world, and that’s what the best horror does. It scares us in a way that makes us think. It makes us examine and question why we feel repulsed, discomforted, or frightened, and what those reasons mean in a larger context.

In the literary realm, Morrison makes masterful use of her writer’s toolbox. The prose is unique and distinctly suited to its subjects. The difficulty of the book serves as a fitting form for the difficulty of the topics. The complexity here both mirrors and highlights the complexity of our world. The writing is exquisite. Beloved doesn’t put on any airs; the literary nature of it is simply the best vehicle for Morrison’s intent.

Have I gushed enough? This one goes on my favorites list for sure.

Taste is taste. As I said, if you don’t like lit-fic or don’t like horror, or even don’t like heavy fiction or difficult reading or any other number of what-have-yous, this might not be a book for you.

But to anyone who claims that literary horror doesn’t exist, I say read this book. And to anyone who reads this book and still claims it, I say you’re nuts, prejudiced, or both, because Beloved is a masterpiece of literary fiction, a masterpiece of horror fiction, and a masterpiece of a novel. An unflinching look at our country’s horrible history through the lens of the hauntingly personal? Great American novel indeed.

Still looking for something to read here at the end of Women in Horror Month? Look no further than Toni Morrison, one of my new literary heroes.

[Note: In case you missed it, Simon Dewar interviewed me for Women in Horror Month!]

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8 Authors to Follow: the Women in Horror Edition

As many of you may know, February is Women in Horror Month. I’ve always been a fan of it because I love horror, I’m a feminist, and I myself am a woman in horror. It seems a pretty safe bet that I’m going to love any movement in line with those things, yeah?

It’s surprised me a bit recently to read some push-back about WiHM, especially from other women in horror who I admire. The argument seems to be that women-only anthologies, all-women panels at conferences, and WiHM itself all serve to segregate more than integrate. If we keep calling female horror work “female horror work” doesn’t that just serve to keep it out of the greater sphere of “horror work” that we’re striving so hard to become more noticed in?

I see their point. But at the same time, as a young woman working in an industry that’s already hard, in a genre that doesn’t particularly welcome me, seeing successful women who’ve done it before me is invaluable. At World Horror Con last year, the “women in horror” panel was one of my highlights. Seeing all of those badass ladies in one place was incredibly inspiring – incredibly encouraging. They were lined up for me to learn from, but also as proof that what I want is possible to achieve.

Maybe the problem isn’t having all-women panels or female anthologies or even WiHM. Maybe the problem is calling them that. Because sadly, that panel was audienced almost entirely by women. The topic of the panel wasn’t women, not really, but because the only people on it were women, little to no men came. The real problem here is that male topics are considered “for everyone” while female topics are considered “for women.” So maybe what we should do is keep having these things that highlight and inspire women, but stop highlighting the gender of it. How shocking would it be for a male con attendee to walk into a panel about avoiding horror tropes and see an all-woman panel whose gender has nothing to do with the topic? Pretty shocking, which is very sad, because I’ve walked into countless all-male panels and never batted an eye.

Okay, that’s enough of that. It’s a complex topic and I really don’t think there are any simple answers. My point is not to defend or attack Women in Horror Month. My real point is to honor some of the women in horror who’re inspiring me right now. Read: here are some kickass horror authors (and an editor) I recommend following, no matter who you are, and no matter what month it is.

Lisa Morton

Lisa Morton currently serves as the president of the Horror Writers Association, and she’s amazing. She runs HWA enthusiastically and openly. She’s unbelievably generous with herself; I honestly don’t know how she does it. She works at a bookstore, has an incredibly impressive and prolific career as a writer of fiction and nonfiction, runs a major organization, and still reaches out to help other writers when she can – and she does it all with kindness and poise. She’s a fantastic role model and a very nice person, and her nonfiction book on Halloween was a blast.

Ellen Datlow

Ellen Datlow has become my favorite short fiction editor over the past few years thanks in large part to her Best Horror of the Year series. I now buy each year’s edition, and am also working my way backwards through the early ones that I missed. I love reading the stories she curates. I always enjoy them, always find at least a few that deeply impress me, and often find one or two that blow me away. Ms. Datlow is incredibly hardworking, but also so generous with her knowledge and thoughts. She’s a don’t-miss for staying current in the industry.

Gemma Files, Lucy A. Snyder, Damien Angelica Walters, and Alyssa Wong

I listed these four together simply because they’re all so new to me. I don’t know them as people yet and I’ve only discovered a small amount of their work so far, but I’ve read stories by each that knocked my friggin socks off. All of them were so good that I added their names to my mental list of authors to look for more from. Here’s a quick highlight of the works I loved:

Gemma Files– “This is Not For You.” I couldn’t stop thinking about this story. I told my husband all about it just because I had to talk out loud about how brilliant it was. Feminist themes in a story about a group of serial killers? Hell yes; sign me up. As if that weren’t enough, her story “Nanny Grey” is eerie and disturbing and wonderful too.

Lucy A. Snyder– “Magdala Amygdala.” This story won the Bram Stoker Award in 2012, and holy wow did it blow me away. I remember feeling shocked that someone actually wrote it. It was just so weird and (forgive the expression) balls-to-the-wall. If you don’t like your punches pulled, this is one to read.

Damien Angelica Walters– “Sing Me Your Scars.” This one’s currently on the Bram Stoker Awards preliminary ballot. It’s unique and twisted and really, really beautiful. I’ve never read anything quite like it. “The Judas Child” is another well worth reading. Sad and twisted.

Alyssa Wong– “Hungry Daughters of Starving Mothers.” Also on the Stoker preliminary ballot. The story is as haunting and original as the title. Equally as sad and strange and lovely: “Scarecrow.”

Linda Addison

Linda Addison is another author I met at WHC, and she left quite an impression on me. She’s the type of person who lights up a room. She’s friendly, generous, and bold. She exudes a sense of welcoming that felt authentic and all-inclusive. I really enjoyed listening to her on panels and chatting with her, and I adore the forward motion she’s making in dark poetry. And her own poetry is great too; I had the pleasure of hearing her read some and it was wonderful.

(Being awesome on your own and giving back to the community; there’s a trend here…)

Anne Rice

It’s no secret that I love Anne Rice’s work. Her Vampire Chronicles were elemental in my growth as a reader, writer, and thinker. She was one the first introductions I had into how thoughtful and intelligent dark fiction can be, which was tinder on the fire of my love for vampires, gothic, and speculative fiction – as well as being exemplary of upmarket fiction. But more recently, I’ve discovered her beyond her work, and if anything I’m even more impressed by her as a person. I can’t believe how generous, authentic, and kind someone who’s that busy can be. She’s unapologetically herself both in her social interactions and in her art. Not only that, but she’s confident, humble, kind, and welcoming. I really can’t think of a better role model to aspire to.


There you have it: eight women in horror who, no matter your gender and no matter the month, are well worth checking out. I hope you’re all having a wonderful February!

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Freshness + Maxwell’s Demon

I have several little things to share today. Around here, I’ve been a busy bee freshening things up for the new year. The Decorative Writer and The Organized Writer have both had face lifts. At TDW you’ll find a better, streamlined photo format, plus new photos in both my own office album and in Roni Loren’s office album. At TOW I’ve tweaked the layout and functionality of my documents. Plus I’ve added a Buzz page to my menu, so you can read my happy reviews in one place (eek!), as well as a Store page, which takes you to my new Amazon store. There you can browse and shop for my favorite books and products for readers and writers.

In other news, if you’ve missed it, my poem “Maxwell’s Demon” is out now in Apex Magazine. You can read it for free online.

It’s really easy to overlook a poem, to brush past it. We’re so busy; poems are so short. Often we read them once, glean what’s on the surface, nod along, and move on.

I wrote this poem six years ago. I loved it but thought it was too obscure, too “sciencey.” I set it aside thinking it would never get picked up and that few would ever read it how I intended. Finally, last year, I sent it to one of the only pro markets I’ve found that embraces both poetry and science-rooted work. I was thrilled when Apex picked up “Maxwell’s Demon.”

Still, though, I figured it would get lost in the shuffle of this big, gorgeous issue (80) with names far more prominent than mine.

Then I read a review of my poem by Charles Payseur at Quick Sip Reviews that is spot-on, thoughtful, emotional, appreciative, nuanced, and all of the things a writer scarcely dares to hope for in a reader, much less a reviewer. I can’t tell you how good it feels for my poem to not only have found such a home, but to have found such an audience.

“Maxwell’s Demon” does rely somewhat on knowing what the original reference is, so for anyone who’s curious, here’s the Wikipedia article on James Clerk Maxwell’s thought experiment.

Finally, I’m working on getting new albums of cool writers’ work spaces up at The Decorative Writer (If you’re a writer with a beautiful work space you’d like to share, please email me!), as well as new documents at The Organized Writer. You can look for those coming in the next few months, as well as several more publications I have work in that I’ll share as they’re released.

Last but certainly not least, if you’re looking to get a head start on shopping for Valentine’s Day, last year I pulled together a list of gift ideas for book lovers. ♥ Happy February, and happy Women in Horror Month, too!

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Thoughts on Borges

I recently read Ficciones, a classic short story collection by Argentinian author Jorge Luis Borges, who’s largely credited with beginning the magical realism genre. Like all literary classics, I went into this with certain hopes and expectations, and I was somehow both rewarded and disappointed in the end. In short, I’m glad I read him, but I won’t be seeking any more of his work.

For those of you unfamiliar with Borges, I’ll give you my general impressions. Borges weaves philosophical exercises with surreal fantasy elements into tight, complex stories that read more like essays. His narrators often come across as the author, and are usually removed from the center of the story by generations, distance, knowledge, etc. His predominant themes are mazes, libraries, dreams, writing, war, time, and religion. I was particularly interested to spot the influences of Bertrand Russell (philosophy) and Edgar Allan Poe (the detective genre).

When I got on Goodreads to mark Ficciones as “read,” I was shocked to see that it has a 4.5 star rating. That’s higher than the works of most classics. Really? I’ll admit that my first thought was, “I wonder how many of those 4- and 5-star ratings were from people who wanted to look smart by liking Borges.”

First I gave it 4 stars, thinking about how pivotal Borges was for both Spanish and fantasy literature, how great a mind and distinctive a voice. But then I went back and changed it to 3, because no matter how much I admire him, I don’t like his work. And isn’t that what ratings are supposed to be? “How much did you like this book?” Well, it wasn’t my favorite. I ended up on 3 stars. I’ll try to break down why.

Likes

Of the seventeen stories in this collection, my favorites were “The Circular Ruins,” “The Babylon Lottery,” “The Library of Babel,” and “The Secret Miracle.” If you read only these four stories, you’ll have an excellent sense of Borges.

Intelligence– One undeniable fact about Borges is that he’s smart as hell. He’s not just intellectual; he’s intelligent (and yes, there is a difference). If nothing else, you’d be hard-pressed to come away from reading Borges and not feel impressed by the man’s mind.

Concepts– I happen to adore many of the concepts Borges explores. Libraries, mirrors, writing, dreams, and infinity are all things I personally write about and also enjoy reading about. I think he has interesting things to say about them.

Sense of humor– This, in my opinion, is actually the best thing about Borges. Plenty of people in this world are smart. Many people are funny. Both together make a special combination. Borges has this wry, understated sense of humor that sort of sneaks up on you. Much of it was highly self-aware, and I found it absolutely delightful. I laughed aloud several times, smiled many, and smirked at a few.

Distinctness– And finally, I appreciate Borges’ fidelity to his own style, concepts, and voice. I might not like everything about them, but I admire that he knows who he is as an author and stays true to that. One of the beautiful things about reading the classics is that even if you don’t like a particular author, you “get to know them.” You hear their distinctive voice and feel their distinct impression left on the literary canon. Borges is such a voice, and I love him for it.

Dislikes

Redundancy– This is a risk you run anytime you read collected works by an author. Most if not all writers have themes and concepts they return to throughout their artistic life, and I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. In fact, as I mentioned above with distinctiveness, I think it can be a good thing, but in the case of sitting down to read the stories back to back, it can become dull. I found myself predicting the ending to these stories after reading only the first half dozen or so.

Ego– This is my biggest problem with Borges. I felt that he was too in love with his own cleverness. He knows that he’s smart, and he’s a big fan of it, and that’s incredibly off-putting to me. Don’t get me wrong; I adore difficult, complex works. I love House of Leaves, Thomas Pynchon, Kafka, Don DeLillo, and Nabokov, so it’s not that I’m a leisure-read-only person or that Borges went over my head. I followed him; I just didn’t like how pleased he was with where we were going. The best way I can describe it is the difference between a brilliant professor who’s there to teach the students and a brilliant professor who’s there to hear himself talk. Unfortunately, more often than not Borges struck me as the latter.

Lack of story– Another issue I had was Borges’ distaste for story. There’s a reason that you’ll see his works referred to as “essays” as often as “stories.” Many of them eschew story structure entirely. Some of them go so far as to read like philosophical exercises and mental trickery. The characters don’t matter. The plot rarely matters. In some cases, it feels more like playing Sudoku than reading fiction. Some people might love that; I hated it.

Lack of passion and honesty– Which brings me to my final issue: There wasn’t enough meat in Borges’ work. I want to feel moved, not manipulated. Intellect, philosophy, and concept can only take a piece so far. The reason I’m a reader isn’t to exercise my mind or to explore experimental ideas. I mean, I love doing those things, but I don’t need literature for them. I need literature to make me feel. I need literature to make me care. I need literature to be art – or at least entertainment. I want authors to make me feel like I’ve seen a sliver of their soul. I want authors to make me believe that their beliefs matter, not just their ideas. And despite all his strengths and value, Borges withholds himself. He doesn’t leave all of himself on the page – only his mind. And me? I want heart.


I think Borges would’ve been a wonderful man to know. I’d have loved to get him in a room where he wasn’t trying to impress anyone and spend hours talking. But as to his essay-stories? I admire them. I appreciate them. I respect them. But I don’t like them. Give me Kafka’s filial angst spliced with surrealism. Give me Shirley Jackson’s understated intelligence captured in emotionally honest prose. Give me all the fervor, excitement, and passion of Poe. But Borges? Well, at the end of the day, Borges leaves me cold.

Have you read Jorge Luis Borges? What was your take?

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The Quiet Year that Held So Much

When I sat down to write my New Year’s blog, I was wondering how on earth I was going to fill a whole post. I’m big on transitions, reviewing, and setting new goals, though, so I figured I’d continue my January tradition even if the post ended up being a short one.

What I didn’t realize was how incredibly full and wonderful 2015 was for me. With the natural tendency to focus on what needs improvement, I was thinking about how I had a low total word count for the year and that I took the whole summer off writing to reenergize and refresh by getting a summer job as a park worker, so I was looking at it as a slow year for my writing life. Along with taking those months off for the summer job, I also tutored a Spanish 1 student for several months, which was outside my comfort zone, but my student ended up with the highest grades in her high school class. 🙂 And on top of that, I achieved last year’s resolution of becoming more active this year, and am healthier and happier for my yoga and gym visits.

So I was ready to forgive myself for a slow writing year, but boy was I ever wrong! Compiling the highlights and reflections for this year’s writing things took me five times longer than I thought it would, but I’m so glad I did. How else would I ever have put into perspective how very much value and achievement and growth this year held for me?

Looking Back at 2015

There are three traditions I started last New Year’s: filling out a pretty new planner, putting notes of things that I was grateful for, happy about, and/or proud of in my joy jar, and finalizing my earning/expense documents for the year’s taxes. (I’m a party animal, I know.)

Reading through all of the notes in my joy jar was really fun. Most of my notes were obscure and/or personal, but here’s a shot of four of my favorite ones beside the emptied jar:

Joy Jar Highlights

The 6,000 word day was my personal best for drafting. I don’t even remember what “the fear that leads to bravery” was about (but doesn’t that just go to show?). I met Jack Ketchum, one of my favorite horror authors, at World Horror Con in Atlanta, and he signed my treasured copy of Off Season that was my dad’s. And “new plans and fresh starts” sort of speaks for itself, doesn’t it? Of course, there were dozens and dozens of other moments that made me smile, many of which had nothing to do with writing and everything to do with the small moments that make up a full life.

Here on the website, I saw continued growth with many new visitors and email subscribers, thanks in large part to the incredible Anne Rice sharing four of my blog posts with her followers. (Here are the links to her Facebook posts: “The Differences Between Commercial and Literary Fiction,” “Thoughts on IT by Stephen King, What it Takes to Enjoy Horror, and Why I Write It,” “Thoughts on Gone Girl,” and “Introducing My Newest Guilty Pleasure: Bates Motel.”) You can’t imagine how thrilling it was for me to hear such kind words from one of my writing role models! Not to mention how wonderful her fans are. Her support was the highlight of my year.

In March, I went on a fun writing retreat with one of my besties, Kelsey Macke. In May, World Horror Con was an absolute blast and a huge personal success. I got to meet two of my online writing buddies in person; Ashley Davis and Carie Juettner turned out to be even cooler than I’d hoped for. I had two successful pitch sessions, met dozens of new friends, colleagues, and influencers in the field, learned lots of great stuff, interviewed 14 authors I admire, and even found a mentor in the fabulous Horror Writers Association president Lisa Morton!

Over the course of the year, I completed pretty big revisions on two different novels, wrote several new stories and many new poems, and broke my 50-market goal for venues I’ve had work accepted to. 🙂 The Organized Writer continues to grow, with my free documents receiving a record number of downloads.

I had three different short stories come out in 2015, along with five poems, two guest blogs, three interviews, six more columns at Writer Unboxed – which also marked the introduction of the Ask Annie feature this year – as well as two of my stories being favorably reviewed (a quick line about “Honey” in Blurring the Line and a full, fun, cheeky write-up of “Zanders the Magnificent” by Charlotte Ashley on “Clavis Aurea #26” at Apex Magazine). If you missed some of these works, you can find everything of mine that came out this year, sorted by category and listed from most recent to oldest, on my published works page.

Another highlight of this year was being included in two very cool lists: “Celebrating Women In Horror Month” at LitReactor and Ellen Datlow’s recommended list for Best Horror of the Year Volume Seven. I opened up my “Ask the Author” feature on Goodreads to celebrate Horror Week. You can read the four great questions I got and my answers here. I also continued to tweet @AnnieNeugebauer, update my Facebook page, and curate my (NSFW) tumblr inspiration blog. Now, looking back, I wonder how I ever thought of this past year as slow!

Looking Forward to 2016

So, naturally, now I’m thinking ahead and dreaming of the year to come. So far I can share that I have the following forthcoming in 2016: two poems in Apex Magazine (January and March), one short story in the anthology Strange Little Girls by Belladonna Press (February), and one poem in the NFSPS’s prize anthology Encore (July).

I also have two more contracts underway that I should be able to announce soon, plus hopefully more as the year goes on!

And last but not least, here’s my new planner and waiting joy jar set up for another busy, happy, productive year:

Planner and Joy Jar

If you can’t tell in the picture, the new jar label says “Joy lives here.” ♥ So that’s my wrap-up! Many, many thanks to everyone who helped make my year special, whether it was by publishing my work, being a supportive friend, or simply reading this blog.

I’d love to hear all about your own 2015. Feel free to share in the comments below. And here’s wishing you all a wonderful 2016!

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