Posts Tagged ‘robert englund’

horrorghoul

I, myself, am strange and unusual.” – Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved monsters. My mom proudly tells people the stories: I cut teeth watching the Universal Monsters. I had a treasured Wolfman I carried around named Wolfy. One of her favorite stories involves me sitting outside with a black pot making “potions” while our new neighbors moved in. I idolized Elvira instead of pop stars. I grew up with a special place in my heart for Frankenstein’s monster and hunted for ghosts. The same year I got my first cellphone, I got my first Ouija board. It’s safe to say I started out a weirdo.

By the time I was 13, I was obsessed with slasher movies. I had pictures of Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees hanging in my locker. My older brother Ben took me to see Freddy VS Jason in theaters as my 13th birthday present. This was the point in my life it moved into obsession. I read horror. I watched horror. It started coming through in my art, in how I dressed, etc. Most importantly, I started writing horror.

For those who have never heard the story: When I was in the 8th grade, I had a nightmare, and this nightmare was so intense, I had to write it down just to cope with it. A few months later, in my Adavnced English class, we were assigned a project. We had to write a short story of oh-so-many pages or more. I was probably the most excited kid in the class. This was my chance to really prove myself. And the first thing that came to my mind was my nightmare. Which, luckily, I had written down.

So, I poured my heart into it. I made myself relive the awful nightmare, and then amplified it. It was already scary, and then I transformed it into something more, something that really made people uncomfortable. By the time it was finished, I was afraid to turn it in to my teacher. What if it backfired and I ended up in counseling? What if I ended up in trouble? Or she thought it was awful? I turned it in anyway along with the rest of my class and put it out of my mind.

Then next day, when I was in line for lunch, my teacher found me and pulled me aside, only telling me she needed to talk to me about my story. I knew this was it, and I was in trouble. But instead of being scolded, or finding out I was going to see the counselor instead of getting lunch, she told me that she loved my story. She had apparently been reading and grading our stories before she went to bed the night before, and had gotten through a few before she came to mine. After getting completely hooked into the story, once she was finished, she had to step outside for a few moments afterward to calm down. I was maybe 14 or 15, and I had done something pretty amazing for my age.

And then, she asked if she could let the other teachers read it, as well as read it to my class. I was shocked, but agreed. She said she’d read it to the other kids without naming who I was until it was finished.

This, my friends… This is the catalyst to my life. This is what took me from writing stories to keep my brain sane, to writing stories to keep my brain sane with the intent of making a career from them. I was so anxious waiting for her to read it, I didn’t think it could get worse. Until it did, the moment she started. I watched, fascinated, as my classmates reacted to my words. Kids that hated me and my own friends all on the edge of their seats. For something I had written.

I remember the overwhelmed feeling the minute she revealed I had written the story. For a brief moment, I was the talk of the school. They said I’d be the next Stephen King. I was on top of the world. She even kept the paper to read to her future classes.

To this day, it’s still one of the most unsettling stories I’ve written. I don’t want to give much away about it because I’d eventually like to rewrite it into something great.

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A few things in my horror collection.

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I filled notebook after notebook. Printed hundreds and thousands of sheets of paper containing me words. I expanded my horror movies I watched, hunting desperately for something new at Movie Gallery. I worked in a haunted house as a scareactor. I bought books on writing. I studied it. I learned from people who understood the business better than I did. I kept at it and kept at it. I became involved with Ax Wound. 

Then, my life changed. I went to college. I got a real job. I got sick. I spent less time on writing, and even less time than that dedicated to my horror. And while losing myself because I wasn’t writing was bad enough, I think I lost just as much when horror got pushed aside.

I watched horror movies occasionally: sick days, sleepless nights, Halloween time, hanging out with like-minded friends. But nothing like I had done before. I spent a long time trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and then last year it really sunk in:

I had gotten into writing through horror. It had given me some of my passion. And when I got myself back to writing regularly, I hadn’t gotten myself back into horror as much. And there was a problem there. Something was missing there.

I’ve been trying to devote more time to myself and what I want and need in various aspects of my life lately. And horror is one of those things. It sounds so silly to some people – “You’re upset because you don’t spend so much time watching scary movies?” But when you don’t know the whole story, you don’t always understand.

Monsters and slashers and blood and gore, those are all part of me. This are all parts of who I am, and what I do as a writer. Sure, everything I write isn’t a horror story. But sometimes they could use a good dash of horror or darkness.

I’ve realized that if I’m going forward with this career, then I will need to go back  to the basics, for the love of horror.

~Angel

“I think I’ll wait another year,
It’ll be the best year ever.”

If you haven’t listened to Amanda Palmer’s “Another Year”, go do it immediately. This song is on to Top 5 list of the soundtrack of my life, I swear.

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Now, I have done many, many things in my life. I’ve worked in a haunted house, and a Halloween costume/supply store. I’ve left the country. Twice. Swam with dolphins. Also twice. I attended a writing conference in New York with Best Selling authors and agents and other passionate writer people like myself, and even read part of a manuscript out loud to two agents (both of which were interested in reading more) – before I started my senior year of High School. I’ve been to Orlando four times. I’ve been to Boston and Salem. I’ve been to Chicago, New Orleans, and Nashville for cons. I’ve been to James Marsters birthday party. Sean Patrick Flanery has called my boyfriend and made me blush, and just been an all around awesome dude to me. David Della Rocco kissed my cheek. I’ve met amazing actors, artists, comedians, authors, etc. I’ve met Stan Lee. Multiple times. I met Robert Englund and cried. I’ve been to Batman Live!, Wicked, Phantom of the Opera, and a variety of other plays and shows. I’ve had VIP passes and been allowed into areas others have dreamed of. I’ve shot fashion shows, had photos and articles published, and occasionally feel like maybe I’m going in the right direction.

And so, so much more. So many people and places I can’t even list them all.

But, I somehow still want more. I have worked myself to death to feel like I’m somewhere, or doing something, and not wasting my life behind a desk at a day job.

It feels like I have been stuck in a state of Almost Something. I have almost been published. Almost graduated with my degree as an Art major. Almost stepped up to the next level in photography. Almost almost almost. But I don’t won’t to fall short anymore. I want to move from Almost Something into Definitely Something.

So, next year, I will try to do more. I will try to top everything I’ve already done, just because I have the drive to do it. I don’t want to live an average life. It will drive me insane. I want to feel like I’ve accomplished things and lived a life I was proud of by the time I’m dead.

I’m working on a list right now of things to do in 2015. Because while 2014 had some very good things, it also had some horrible things. And I want more good days than bad. I’ll post a finished list closer to New Years Eve, but there are some points I will definitely touch on:

I will do something writing related, whether it’s a published novel, or another article. Even a baby step forward is better than a stand still.

I will work on my photography more. Because I miss it. Because I need it. I will do shoots and get my work out there.

I will do something more with my art. It’s improving, though not quite where it was art. I would love to start selling prints and pieces to people.

Travel. Experiences. Health.

There is no point in wasting time, when there are adventures out there waiting for me. I just need to seize the chances I’m presented with.

~Angel

So, I made a fairly spontaneous decision to jump on an opportunity to go to New Orleans. It was pretty last minute too, since I had less than a month once I decided, in January, to book my travel plans to go down in the beginning of February. But I needed a getaway, and when the chance presented itself… I couldn’t resist.

Granted, what was supposed to be a morning flying down with an afternoon of free time turned into me having to drive down at 3pm when our flight got screwed up did really stress me out more than necessary, I still managed to get to New Orleans (granted, it was almost 4 am) and enjoy myself:

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Why, yes. That is Matt Smith – the 11th Doctor, the Raggedy Man, in Doctor Who 😀

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Scan0029 Robert Englund, one of my favorite people in the entire world.

Childhood Role model, Elvira!

Childhood Role model, Elvira!

Not to mention, spending a good eternity one night being a very enthusiastic background person while filming for SyFy. Whenever that comes out, I will be sure to share with everyone.

Now, I did get more done than just running around with celebrities and filming things. I also managed to touch base with my pesky muse, who had been randomly passing out drunk all over the place and not properly doing her job, mostly because she’s upset with me for not spending as much time together as we used to. Well, Muse, I hate to break it to you, but some of us have jobs and illnesses and don’t get to lounge about all day watching reruns of America’s Next Top Model! *sigh* *deep breath* Okay, I’m sorry, Muse. That was a bit much. I’ll apologize to both you AND our guests.

As I was stating before, I spent time with my lovely and wonderful, presently sober, and forever brilliant Muse while I was in New Orleans. We were so bonded that I could actually feel the persistent ache of my creative juices wanting to flow and be free. I’m not sure if it was the mind-numbingly long drive (to me, at least), or the fact that New Orleans is just good for my soul. But I was inspired just by being there:

A little artsy-smartsy fantasy I lived out: sketching the St. Louis Cathedral while sitting at the Café Du Monde.

A little artsy-smartsy fantasy I lived out: sketching the St. Louis Cathedral while sitting at the Café Du Monde.

Walking home from (my personal favorite restaurant I've found so far in New Orleans) Angeli on Decatur with my delicious leftover Lucifer's Pizza, I was so taken by the music playing in the streets and just the ever-building inspiration, that I literally HAD TO start writing on my pizza box as I walked. I then transferred ideas from pizza box to notebook. XD

Walking home from (my personal favorite restaurant I’ve found so far in New Orleans) Angeli on Decatur with my delicious leftover Lucifer’s Pizza, I was so taken by the music playing in the streets and just the ever-building inspiration, that I literally HAD TO start writing on my pizza box as I walked. I then transferred ideas from pizza box to notebook. XD

So there you have it, a brief summary of my trip to my beloved NOLA. I need to take a trip back when I have less going on that preoccupies me. Take the time to fully give myself over to the inspiration and not worry about another damn thing. I know my muse would like the time with me.

~Angel