I want this to be a platform for EVERYONE within the horror community; authors, publishers, bloggers, reviewers, actors, directors, artists. I could go on, if you work in the genre then you are more than welcome to apply for the job.
The rules are quite simple…
You are invited to imagine yourselves as warden for an old graveyard, and choose eight books, preferably horror/dark genre, to take with you to cover your shift; here you can discuss why you chose the books.
As well as the books, wardens are allowed one song/album to listen to. Again, an explanation for this choice is required.
You must also discuss one luxury item you can bring, which must be inanimate and not allow communication.
If you’d like to take part in The Graveyard Shift then please submit an application to gavin@kendallreviews.com
A new shift is about to begin and things are going to be a little different. There will be four authors working the shift, Marie O’Regan, George Mann, Laura Mauro and SJI Holliday.
To celebrate Absinthe Books, a new novella imprint via PS Publishing, all four will work this weeks #GraveyardShift. The third author we are going to meet is…
Laura Mauro
Siiri Tuokkola takes up arms for the Women’s Guard during Finland’s 1918 Civil War along with her comrades.
Stationed in a remote village outpost, rumours of strange things in the woods come to a head when Siiri’s comrade Mirva goes missing in a blizzard. Determined to find her, Siiri braves the deep forest, where mysterious lights weave through the trees, and those who look upon them for too long may find themselves afflicted by a strange madness.
But there are worse things in the forest than lights, and Siiri must face them if she is to find Mirva before it’s too late.
You can buy On The Shoulders Of Otava directly from PS Publishing HERE
Books
Watership Down by Richard Adams
Every writer has, I think, a book they can identify as their ‘ur-text’: the book that made them want to write in the first place. Watership Down is that ur-text for me. I read it when I was far too young to properly comprehend it and was instantly drawn to the sheer sprawling imagination of it. I didn’t get that it was the Odyssey with rabbits – I just understood that the rabbits existed in their own world, with their own language and mythology, and that this world was under threat. Is Watership Down horror-adjacent? I think it must be. The Silent Warren arc, the escape from Efrafa, the snare and the White Blindness, and ESPECIALLY (for me) the Black Rabbit of Inle. It’s not a gentle tale of fluffy bunnies. I would probably not be a writer today if I hadn’t read this book as a child.
Moominland Midwinter by Tove Jansson
My most frequent for ‘favourite book of all time’. As with Richard Adams, there is nothing patronising about Jansson’s writing; she credits children with the intelligence and the emotional capacity to comprehend subjects as deep as loneliness and anxiety. Jansson’s peaceful summer valley is transformed into a cold, wintery realm which is in turns frighteningly inhospitable and eerily beautiful. And as with Watership Down, it sparked the desire to write from a young age. There’s a quote I always use from this and please indulge me one more time, because it really is such a perfect explanation of why I write horror: “There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.”
Laika by Nick Abadzis
You might already know that I am endlessly fascinated by the true story of Laika, the Soviet space dog, and this graphic novel is a beautiful and entirely appropriate tribute. The inevitability of Laika’s fate makes it a heartbreaking read – possibly even moreso if you don’t know her story beforehand, although the weight of knowing what will happen is its own unique type of ‘painful’. And though it is fiction, the notion that someone – anyone – might have cared about her is both desperately sad, and a small ray of sunshine in a tragic story. (And yes, Laika’s story is pure horror, in my opinion; what could be more horrific than knowingly sending an innocent animal to die alone in the vast, infinite depths of space?)
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King
I could have picked any number of Stephen King books for the final slot – I might have picked The Stand, which, despite my ‘revolving door’ of favourite King books never fails to wind up in the top 3. I might have cheated and opted for the Dark Tower series. But there’s something about this book that just strikes me as especially compelling. For most of the book, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon leaves us stranded in the woods with a single character: a nine-year-old girl. Trish’s struggle to survive and to reach safety is a simple enough narrative, but things become far more complicated (and far stranger) when, overcome with exhaustion, she begins to hallucinate; we are never truly sure whether the nightmarish visions that follow her are supernatural or simply imaginary, but the answer is not as important as immersing yourself in the folkloric otherworld that springs up around her.
Oksi by Mari Ahokoivu
Another graphic novel, this time a sci-fi/fantasy take on Finnish mythology and folklore (another favourite subject of mine) The art style is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before – unique and dreamy and fluid, in turns beautiful and terrifying. It’s a book that feels bigger than itself, somehow, as though the myth contained within the pages is only temporarily contained. The story is in Finnish, with an English translation, but this does not affect the immersiveness of it all – it barely needs words at all, since the art is so wonderfully expressive. A real hidden gem of a book.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Proving once and for all that bleak and beautiful need not be polar opposites. I love the way McCarthy experiments with prose and its conventions – breaking cardinal rules to wonderful effect, resulting in the feeling that you are an eavesdropper on the journey of the Man and the Boy. This is not an easy read, especially in apocalyptic 2020. It’s one of the single darkest books I’ve ever read – a particular passage involving the gruesome fate of an infant made me put the book down for days, and I do not have a maternal bone in my body. But it is a vital book, I think, because of the way it folds hope into the fabric of despair. The spark of humanity which remains even at the very nadir of their journey together. Cormac McCarthy is probably the writer I aspire most to write like – not as an exact copy, but to evoke the same feelings he does, in the same abstract, deeply emotional way.
Katya From The Punk Band by Simon Logan
It’s not deep or world-changing but it is really, really fun. A near-future dystopian setting in some nebulous Eastern European country, this is part-Pulp Fiction, part-Run Lola Run; the punk vibes are immaculate and authentic, and Katya is such a cool character. My frequent criticism of the Strong Female Character archetype is that she’s not allowed to be flawed or vulnerable or unpleasant, and Katya is frequently all three. For that part of the graveyard shift when I most need to switch off my brain and have fun.
Dark Matter by Michelle Paver
The only book I’ve ever read that truly, genuinely scared me, which probably makes it a terrible choice for the graveyard shift but I am a sucker for punishment. The Arctic setting and wintry climate make this a perfect choice for me, because I can’t stand summer. There’s just something about the way Jack’s world slowly shrinks into the four walls of the cabin and endless darkness; the one-by-one picking apart of his support system until there is only him, and a pack of dogs, and something moving in the dark. An absolutely terrifying book and in my view the best pure horror novel ever written.
Album
Legacy (The Very Best of David Bowie)
It’s impossible for me to choose any one David Bowie album, so I’d have to choose this posthumous Best Of, which includes tracks from Blackstar stretching all the way back to Space Oddity. I’m one of those Bowie fans who doesn’t believe he ever truly had a ‘bad’ era – I’m really fond of his industrial phase. I’ve always felt Bowie was at his best when he was pushing boundaries, doing what he wanted to do, as opposed to what was expected of him. Ironically, the collection is missing most of my very favourite Bowie tracks (how are Five Years and Blackstar not on there?) but it’s a decent overview of his career, his changing sound and his lyrical brilliance. It’d keep me going through the shift, anyway.
Luxury
A bottle of 17-year-old Hibiki whisky. To keep me warm when the night gets cold.
On The Shoulders Of Otava
Siiri Tuokkola takes up arms for the Women’s Guard during Finland’s 1918 Civil War along with her comrades.
Stationed in a remote village outpost, rumours of strange things in the woods come to a head when Siiri’s comrade Mirva goes missing in a blizzard. Determined to find her, Siiri braves the deep forest, where mysterious lights weave through the trees, and those who look upon them for too long may find themselves afflicted by a strange madness.
But there are worse things in the forest than lights, and Siiri must face them if she is to find Mirva before it’s too late.
You can buy On The Shoulders Of Otava directly from PS Publishing HERE
Laura Mauro
Laura Mauro was born and raised in London and now lives in Essex under extreme duress. Her short story ‘Looking for Laika’ won the British Fantasy award for Best Short Fiction in 2018, and ‘Sun Dogs’ was shortlisted for the Shirley Jackson award in the Novelette category. Her debut collection, ‘Sing Your Sadness Deep’ is out now from Undertow Books. She likes Japanese wrestling, Finnish folklore and Russian space dogs. She blogs sporadically at www.lauramauro.com
Twitter: @LauraNMauro
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