Hello, listeners! Are you having a spooky month in the leadup to Halloween? Did our DOUBLE feature have you seeing DOUBLE? Well, we are happy to alleviate your toils and troubles with an interview from the author behind “The Other Little Boy,” Mathew L Reyes!
What inspired "The Other Little Boy?"
The first line is the truth, and the rest of the story flowed from that. My grandmother, unlike the one in the story, never told me and my cousin about ‘the other little boy and girl’ from a malicious or disciplinary perspective. It was sort of a game. We knew she was fibbing, and she knew we knew. But this being horror, the story—and my imagination—took the premise down a darker road.
How do you connect with the idea of DOUBLE?
Humans are by nature multifaceted beings. We have the capacity for kindness and cruelty in the same breath, and we show different sides of ourselves depending on the situation—work, family, friends, social media. It’s a very natural source for potential horror.
Your piece takes the idea of an "identity crisis" and creates an entire life story from it, full of tension - did your own identity(ies) affect the way you built this narrative?
Mostly my identity as a white-passing person (and the passing privilege that goes with it) with substantial Native American and Latino heritage—both in my blood and cultural upbringing—fueled this story. For years, people have told me I can’t be one thing, or another, or that I must be this or that. I suspect it is the same with many people of mixed backgrounds. But with the complexity of life, we often let others dictate how we view ourselves, and allow ourselves to be put in defined boxes to the exclusion of other facets of our identities. This story was my small way of tearing those boxes apart (that and choosing my mother’s family name as my pen name).
We love the idea of being literally haunted by the unacknowledged parts of yourself - how did you decide to use that element of horror?
In folklore, doppelgangers, or ‘double-walkers,’ are often associated with the idea of an evil twin, and in many cultures they are associated with portends of death. I pondered the implications of that—why would a double-walker kill you? How? Jordan Peele’s Us is a phenomenal take on that issue, but I ultimately decided that, wrapped in with the theme of identity, we all die little deaths every time we deny or allow others to deny aspects of who we are. Which begged the question—how do we escape that cycle? The story came from there.
How did you get into horror? What do you enjoy in the genre? What scares you?
In junior high I was a bit of an outcast. During lunch breaks at my school I would hid in our library. One day I discovered a book called Carrie, by some author I’d never heard of. I became hooked, I belonged to the genre thereafter. I love how horror criticizes society, cultural ‘norms,’ and stuffy, conservative tradition. Literary fiction does the same but in a far duller fashion. Horror at its best is a haven for the outcasts, the weirdoes, the kids who don’t fit in. It’s also just fun, which is something I think a lot of people have forgotten how to do. What scares me? Spiders. I hate them. Don’t come at me with facts about how helpful they are—I know that! These facts do not make them any less revolting to me! Bless them for what they do for our ecosystem—but let them do it far from me.
What’s your writing process like?
I write every day. Whether it’s my daily pandemic journal, revisions, outlining/planning, or actual new material, I do it every day. That keeps the tools sharpened, so to speak. For short stories and some standalone novels, I’m mostly write by the seat of my pants with minimal planning. For more complex stories I plan and outline meticulously.
What role do you think horror plays in the LGBTQ community?
A substantial one. It serves as a cathartic release and a tool to uproot oppressive themes, tropes, and stereotypes. More than any other genre it allows the marginalized to reclaim and re-define these things. I have always viewed horror as the most welcoming genre for all identities and communities--if not historically, then more so now than ever.
What’s next for you, creatively?
Gosh. Well, I have another story forthcoming in the TOY episode. I’m on the tail-end of revising a novel, entitled Conversion, that I'm going to start pitching to lit agents soon (fingers crossed for publication). Think of it as Boy Erased meets The Twilight Zone and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I intend it to be a reclamation of tragedy and cathartic inversion of LGBTQ suffering. Beyond that I continue to write and submit short stories to different SFF magazines. And one day soon I just may find myself on the producing end of this lovely podcast!
Any great horror recommendations?
The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson, is probably the greatest (IMO) American horror novel ever written. Subtle, horrifying, heartrending, psychologically mind-bending, and perfectly gothic. It has everything. Toni Morrison’s Beloved is not widely considered typical horror, but I do consider it literary horror, and highly recommend it. The Hunger by Alma Katsu is the creepiest historical horror I’ve read in years. And you cannot go wrong with Stephen King’s The Shining, Pet Sematary, and Misery (which remains relevant in our culture of audience entitlement and toxic fandom outrage).If you want more horror, fantasy, or sci-fi in your life, you can follow me at @MathewLReyes on Twitter.