Status Updates From Anatomie de l'horreur

Yeah, I think maybe that’s what I want to leave you with, in lieu of a good night kiss, that word which children respect instinctively, that word who truth, we only rediscover as adults in our stories, and in our dreams, magic.

That we may turn the powerful intuition of our imaginations upon them, and regard them in the glass of dreams that we may, however, timidly, place our hands within the hole which opens at the center of the column of truth.

We fall from womb to tomb, from one blackness and towards another, remembering little of the one and knowing nothing of the other, except Through faith. That we retain our sanity in the face of the simply yet binding mysteries is nearly divine.

It’s not A Dance of death at all, not really. There is a third level here, as well. It is, at bottom, A Dance of dreams. It’s a way of awakening the child inside, who never dies, but only sleeps ever more deeply. If the horror story is our rehearsal for death, then its stretched moralities make it also a reaffirmation of life and Goodwill and simple imagination. Just one more pipeline to the infinite.

The job of the fantasy horror writer is to make you, for a little while, a child again. To provide a single powerful spectacle for the third eye.

The imagination is an eye, marvelous third eye that floats free. As children, we see with 2020 clarity. As we grow older, it’s vision begins to dim. And one day the guy at the door lets you into a bar without asking to see any ID and that’s it for you. .. The job of the fantasy writer or the horror writer, is to bust the walls of that tunnel vision wide for a little while….