Jake Bible Fiction

Hey Folks!

I am lucky enough to have another great guest post. Please welcome the excellent writer, Ziggy Kinsella. He’s gonna chat a bit about why you have to suck it up and just write whatever evil is in your head, without worry of who it could offend.

Disclaimer: There be bad words in this here post! (Gasp!) I know it’s hard to believe it could happen on my website. Stop laughing. No, really, stop right now. *pumps shotgun* Yeah, that’s what I thought…

Ziggy Kinsella is a Manchester-based horror and dark fiction writer and degenerate proprietor of The Feckless Goblin blog. Given to drinking scotch and shouting abuse at passer-bys, Ziggy was recently given an Anti-Social Behaviour Order for exposing his writing in public.

The Feckless Goblin: http://fecklessgoblin.blogspot.com/

Follow Ziggy Kinsella on Twitter: http://twitter.com/@ziggykinsella

From Ziggy:

Boil-in-the-bag bunnies : How to free your worm-riddled writing soul

You are a horror writer. Yes you are.

However, here is the contradiction: You worry what people think.

We all do. It’s human nature.

So, here’s the kick in the teeth you deserve: you’re a horror writer. Can I say that again? You’re a damn horror writer. (I could have written motherfuckin’ there, but I was too timid).

You’re supposed go beyond constraints. You’re meant to be one down on the food chain from the Anti-Christ and have a gift for putting the world of gruesome into darkly poetic words. You reach into the darkest, most damaged parts of the modern world and drag those demons screaming into the light.

That’s what the job description says. Didn’t you ace the interview?

What’s stopping you?

Life’s dumb conventions? An over-editorial wife? A trip to fucking Sainsbury’s? Worried you might OFFEND SOMEONE?

We have shackles. I’m aware of that. Sometimes we’re cowardly enough to write only what we think people want to read. Other times, we worry if that short story about a midget who has a taste for human entrails we wrote while high on amphetamine is suitable for human consumption (AKA, we worry whether it’s made for TV or not…or we think…eeek…perhaps not).

I got NEWS: Most of horror writers are not writing what they were designed to write. Not in a zillion years.

So, tonight (and horror writers should always write at night), when the kiddies are all safely tucked up in bed, this is what you should do:

Rip open your dark, worm-riddled fucking soul and let all that fettered nastiness fermenting inside you free. Open Pandorah’s Box of twisted delights and watch them fly into the air around your crazy, blood gorged brain and, hey, when you see Hope down there in the bottom of the box, punch that goodie-two-shoes motherfucker on the nose and slam the lid on her lazy ass face (mmm…a tad too far, old chap, don’t you think?).

Isn’t that what you really want? You don’t want to write all that sane, carefully constructed shit that sends your readers off into a “saw that coming” fit of suicidal tedium. You want those demons let loose to cause havoc in the world. You want them to control the story. You want to scare the crap out of people. Come on, you’re a horror writer, isn’t that exactly what you want?

What are you afraid of? That your best friend will turn round and say:

“WTF Jed, you really need some help, man.”

“Christ, Mavis, did you really have to tear his knackers off with a Dunlop Power Mower?”

“Holy mother of God, Lance, why did you write such a thing? You put me off my cannelloni beans.”

Here’s the thing: A writer who worries what people think is not worth an ounce of alligator crap on the sidewalk. Be who you were meant to be. Write with all your bloody, psychologically damaged gut. Smear the heartfelt entrails of your own personal fears on that page. And leave nothing behind.

Boil that bunny honey. Know what I mean?

Here endeth the lesson…

From Jake:

I have to agree with Ziggy 100% on this. I can’t think about who will be reading my fiction, I just have to write it. If you have read any of my fiction you know I have ZERO problems with pushing the boundaries of taste and sanity. Mainly because, as my Grandmother used to say, “more room out than in”! Of course she was talking about passing gas, but same difference really, right?

Cheers, y’all!