In late 2012, while giving my then-Writing Room a dusting in readiness for our annual writers' group Christmas party, the idea for a new story hit in one of those very cool
Eureka! moments. I saw, quite clearly, a dusty room...only the dust, of which dead human skin is a major component, wasn't entirely lifeless. Flesh had formed on the walls. Something within that old house was growing in patches, trying to join together, to be resurrected. "Uncle Sharlevoix's Epidermis" was born. A few weeks later, I landed for a second visit to
When Words Count Writing Retreat Center in Vermont, where I taught a day-long workshop on living a literary life and, as blizzards socked us in for the new year, I completed the first draft of the story. During that wonderful time at the retreat center (where another short story and a novella were completed and much gourmet food was enjoyed), I received the phone call that confirmed our offer on the house we sought to purchase had been accepted -- a joyous but also distracting blessing. When I returned home, the longhand draft went into a packing carton, and there it stayed until after we landed at our new/old New Englander in New Hampshire's North Country,
Xanadu. Flash forward to this past August when, on a Friday night following a long day of writing on Xanadu's sun porch, I received notification that Mark Parker of
Scarlet Galleon Publications had happily accepted the story for
Dead Harvest. The collection contains stories by some of the biggest names in horror -- fifty tales in all, with the book weighing in at a hefty/gargantuan 690 pages!
Many of my fellow contributors in the
Dead Harvest Table of Contents shared the back-stories behind their stories.
E. G. Smith on "Autumn Lamb": "The story was inspired by living in rural, Southwestern Idaho, where the friendly residents are easily outnumbered by both livestock and guns. Millard is the stubborn first-cousin of many of the old farmers I've met around here. He was originally going to be modeled closely on a good old boy neighbor who calls me up now and then to offer free bales of straw and tell semi-lewd jokes, but that quirk didn't fit the tone of the story and was left on the cutting room floor. I've raised goats (not sheep) and know what it's like to deal with a fox in the middle of a wintery night. Unlike gun-happy Millard, I adopted a gigantic Pyrenees-Bernard mix livestock guard dog, Hoss, who scares the predators away without any bloodshed, red or yellow."
Brian Kirk on "Seeds of Change": "While I don't buy into the idea that the world is run by
some secret Illuminati-like cult, I often wonder about the direction our
society is heading in, how it's being guided, and by whom. It seems like major
decisions are being made that impact the masses without any concern over whether
or not citizens agree with them, or attempt to get a consensus vote. Placing
nuclear reactors on fault lines is such an example. As is genetically modifying
our food. We don't know the long-term effects of ingesting genetically-altered
food, but
Vice magazine recently published an article suggesting that GMO corn
was causing farmers to become suicidal. That worries me, and helped inspire my
tragic story."
Jordan Phelps on "Beyond the Trees": "This story began
with a sharp contrast that just wouldn’t leave my head until I put it on paper.
I saw a bustling festival in a large field -- there were bright lights, cheap
rides, and wonderful smells. But most of all, there was joy. In the back corner
of the festival, there was a stereotypical haunted house in which things jumped
out at you, but nothing scary ever
really
happened. Behind all of this, there was the forest: a giant wall of shadows and
claw-like branches that watched and waited behind the scenes. It began with
this image, and with a young girl named Jane who had to see. From there, it
explored the unknown: the differences between adults and children in dealing
with it, the deep, primal fear it can bring forth without an ounce of shock
value, and the horror of having no one to turn to when it chooses to present
itself."
C. M. Saunders on "Harberry Close": "Until quite recently, I lived in East
London and worked in the south-west. That meant a near two-hour journey through
one of the busiest cities in the world, during rush hour, twice a day. That
journey used to drive me mad, with all the pushing, shoving, and elevated
stress levels. It wasn't an easy route, either. A typical commute consisted of
a fifteen-minute walk, two subway trains, an overground train, and a bus. If
the weather was bad, or if there was some kind of strike or other disruption,
it could easily add half an hour or more to my journey, which meant I would
arrive at work late, then have to stay late to make the time back. I'm sure you
get the picture. Anyway, the mid-way point in the journey was Waterloo station.
I actually quite like Waterloo. It's one of London's nicer transport hubs. As I
waited on the platform for my train every morning, I often found myself
wondering what would happen if I somehow got on the wrong train. And where that
wrong train may take me. Maybe somewhere like Harberry Close?"
Lori R. Lopez on “Cornstalker”: “My
stories and novels can originate from an image, a scrap of an idea, a
full-blown plot unrolling in my head faster than I can scribble it down, or -- as
in the case with ‘Cornstalker’ -- a single title, phrase, or word. I came up with this pretty neat title, as I
like to play with words, then immediately began to envision a creature stalking
the corn, very large and imposing. A
back-story took shape involving a fictitious Native-American tribe. This was some years ago, possibly ten or
fifteen. I’m not sure how many. I have a number of ideas like that stuffed
in a figurative closet, waiting for me to get back to them. When I was kindly asked by Mark Parker to
contribute something to
Dead Harvest, it clicked that the time had come
for this tale to be written. While
doing so, I had to pause and conduct research, including how to drive a
semi-truck. I don’t even drive a car. I learned once. That was years ago, too.
I’ve forgotten. Well, semis are
more complicated. I didn’t actually go
physically drive one, although that would have been cool. It was all in my head, and boy, it was quite
an adventure!”
Patrick Lacey on "Mrs. Alto's Garden": "
A few years back, I moved out of my childhood home of
twenty-five years. As I left the backyard for the last time, I thought about
how many animals had been buried there. There were countless goldfish, several
cats, a hamster, and even a few lizards. Seemingly from nowhere, the location
of most great ideas, I thought of oddly shaped flowers and vegetables growing
from the spots where my pets now rested. It was a troubling thought, one that
stuck with me for a long time. I knew I wanted to use it for a story one day
but I couldn’t think of any characters or plots. Eventually, the idea blossomed
(pun most definitely intended) and what resulted was 'Mrs. Alto’s Garden.' Happy
Harvesting!"
Andrew Bell on "Extreme Times, Extreme Measures": "My story isn't about scarecrows, cornfields, or farmers with funny accents. Autumn for me is the ending of an era, the death of a character to make room for a better, stronger more confident person. Someone who isn't going to be the butt of all jokes any longer. I used to know kids at school who would do almost anything to fit in, to be accepted no matter what; even push some poor, unsuspecting fellow pupil into the incoming traffic on a busy road -- I knew such kids. We all did. And sadly, I think this overwhelming desire drifts on into adulthood. So I thought: how far would someone be willing to go to prove themselves? I come from a small town on the northeast coast of England called Hartlepool. It is a town heavily reliant upon industry; steelworks, factories, power plants...a very bleak place which never seems to shake off the dark cloud hanging over it. And although the story is not set here, it is based upon it. It is a story based upon coldness, paranoia, and confrontation. Finality."
Jeremy Peterson on "The Truth": "In 2011, a friend of mine asked me to submit a
story for a horror anthology based on the civil war. I’m no history buff, but
it sounded like fun so I decided to give it a shot. In my mind’s eye, I saw a
cowardly soldier abandoning his unit during a battle and hiding in a cornfield.
A decent start perhaps, but where was the horror? At a loss, I asked my
fourteen-year-old son what kind of terror you might find in a cornfield. How
about the devil, he said. Of course my son would suggest the devil, I thought, we
did name him Damian after all! So I gave him a big hug and gently shoved him
out of the room, ‘cause daddy had a story to write. That is how my story, ‘The
Truth’, came to be. That first publishing house accepted the story but they
folded before the anthology went to press. So I tucked it away, wondering what
I would ever do with a civil war story. Then one morning I spotted a call for Scarlet
Galleon Publications’ Dead Harvest and the rest is history. It’s no, ‘The Devil
and Tom Walker’, or ‘The Man in the Black Suit’, but I enjoyed writing it and I
hope you all enjoy reading it."
Aaron Gudmunson on "The Guest": "At
some point in grade school, I recall reading a story in which the Queen of
England unexpectedly visits a peasant's cottage on the outskirts of a poor
village (I can't recall the title of the story, but if anyone knows what I'm
talking about I'd love to reread it!). I always wondered how that would
translate in America and thus the idea behind ‘The Guest’ formed. The story has
been percolating in my brain for years and I finally wrote it one autumn
weekend before the last presidential election. Some readers have asked me if
there is any hidden political message within the story and I always answer that
there is if you want there to be. Really, though, it's simply a speculative
story about the anonymity of modern America -- how literally anyone can be
mistaken for someone else these days…even the most powerful man in the
world."