You discover a sink full of teeth and realize the truth bites back.
You find yourself having to choose between safety alone or succumbing to a terrifying plague with your children.
You have a recurring nightmare about being mounted and raped by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Have you read any Texas horror lately? Have you read any horror by Texas women like that above?
Sometimes it’s hard to breathe, but they know they don’t have a choice.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe, but they have real problems with the established plotline.
There are a lot of frightening things going on in Texas and America today, and we’ve been passive and meek. It’s hardly news anymore. But not everyone is quietly acquiescing or remaining docile and submissive. Some Americans are not going gently into this dark night, and some Texans are using darkness to shine a light. I sat down with a few recently.
“I am the scary thing,” said Jacklyn Baker, a Texas writer and filmmaker, “and once I acknowledged that, I gave myself permission to start delving into really scary stuff.”
“Folks outside of the South seem to view Southern women as strong to a minimal extent,” said Black storyteller and editor R.J. Joseph. “I’m not sure that’s accurate, but it’s certainly helpful when we decide to tell monster stories or become the monster. No one sees it coming.”
Magnolia-based writer, editor, and horror content creator Madison Estes concurs. “Horror gives us the ability to expose and explore our deepest fears in a safe way. It also creates an opportunity to push boundaries and reflect reality through a warped lens to expose hidden truths about our communities and our society.”
“Texas rivers are murky and low,” added Joseph. “The sun is a fearsome beast, and the humidity smothers. Texas critters are more ferocious, and the soil whispers eerily. But the trees still dance to songs sung throughout history. The blood of our ancestors thrums through everything we see and feel. Here, horror is everywhere, especially in spaces where the whispers, screams, and wails come together to give voice to the fears and monsters we don’t always hear about.”
“The Lone Star state has a dark side,” agreed Austin writer/filmmaker Patrice Sarath. “It’s a land of great beauty but also conquest and violence. It seeps into my work, sometimes in obvious ways and sometimes in secret code. There’s more than one Texas.”
Scary things? Hidden truths? A dark side? More than one Texas?
Speaking very generally — and acknowledging the obvious exception of Mary Shelley and Frankenstein — horror and horror writing was largely the purview of men until the mid 20th century. Even then, it remained mostly male, but women like Shirley Jackson tested that, eclipsed that, with works like “The Lottery” (1948), and Flannery O’Connor followed suit with the existential horrors inherent in Southern asininity. Then, by the 1980s, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale was presciently depicting a ghoulish, patriarchal-minded “lottery,” where men could treat their pick of women as little more than indentured sex objects — which conservative males around the country still seem to prefer more than an Equal Rights Amendment.
Scary, right?
Is it any wonder that Texas women writers would begin to challenge societal mores?
“It’s the modern day that makes Texas a prime topic of horror for women,” observed Baker, who now lives in Minnesota. “You can experience a sense of dread by simply watching the news.”
“A very traditional, conservative outlook permeates many aspects of this state,” said San Antonio-based writer L.H. Phillips. “Women have to navigate this attitude, and it provides tons of material.”
Baker, Estes, Joseph, Phillips, and Sarath have all contributed to the state’s annual horror anthology — Road Kill: Texas Horror by Texas Writers — and their works reflect the reality we inhabit today.
“Horror is one of the best genres for tackling real-world fears without being preachy,” said Estes, who edited Vol. 6 of the series. “I don’t always set out to write political horror stories, but when you’re writing about fear, surviving evil, or thwarting injustice, those themes often naturally arise.”
“Texas is a place where a lot of different groups of people have collided due to the course of history,” Baker added. “It’s made it what it is today, and that should be celebrated, not stifled.”
Joseph, also a Shirley Jackson and Bram Stoker Award nominee, may have put it best. “As a Southern woman and, specifically, a Southern Black woman, I know where the monsters are, and I know how to move around them. Since I can’t always beat them, I like to shine a light on them to let them know they’re seen. I also like to reflect the horror their victims’ experience, so the perpetrators can consider what it would be like to be on the receiving end of atrocities. Frankly, being a woman can be pretty frightening, anyway. If folks aren’t trying to harm us through legislation, they’re trying to harm us physically, financially, or mentally — through every method at their disposal. If anyone is expert at moving subversively, it’s people from marginalized groups. Someone has to tell the stories we don’t always want to hear. Someone has to anchor these stories in factual history and academic rigor. We would be doing our audience and ourselves a huge disservice by not writing about social and political issues from marginalized perspectives. And critically examining these issues requires a multitude of viewpoints, not just the same ones over and over again. I feel compelled to write. Unapologetically. Unequivocally. Being a woman is political. Being a Black woman means my sheer existence is political.”
“Horror is richer when it comes from different perspectives,” Estes agreed. “Texas is a mix of different cultures and experiences. The more diverse voices we have in horror, the more layered and impactful the stories become. The contrast between traditional expectations and the reality of our contemporary experiences makes for powerful horror stories, whether it’s about bodily autonomy, societal roles, or the dangers of being underestimated.”
“Women still have a hard time being recognized as horror creators across the board,” Baker said. “I can’t tell you how many times I have had a conversation with someone who was completely baffled that I, a woman, was writing horror.”
But now you know.
We know.
So, there’s no excuse.
Baker is working on a series of independent films and a related comic book series. Estes is focused on her writing and more short story contributions. Joseph has a new novella coming out in a Pandi Pack (Pandi Press) this November. Sarath is focusing on writing and future film projects.
All four women have advice for female writers, but Baker’s encapsulates that of her fellow female wordsmiths. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you what you should write. If we don’t face our fears, then we will always be afraid, so dig deep. It’s not easy, and it’s not for everyone. Stories that are just for fun are equally valuable. We all need a break from reality sometimes, but if you’re feeling that itch to explore the dark side of things, then do so with a level head and a sympathetic heart. Walk through the darkness, but don’t succumb to it. Instead, use your art to illuminate the darkest parts of our world. Shining a light on horrors is the first step to banishing them.”
Women’s basketball is hopping in North Texas. Read about how four teams have made or are hoping to cement their legacies in Writing Herstory in Buck U.
