WiHM Special - Ann Heyward


A celebrated author known for her work contributing to various anthology collections or her own work, Ann Heyward has created a strong catalog of work that lends her style of  "quiet horror, with a gut punch" to the brightest potential. Now, in honor of Women in Horror Month, I talk with her about her early interest in writing, her editing history, and other projects.


Me: Hello and thank you for taking the time to do this. First off, when did you get into horror in general? What films specifically got you into watching horror movies?
Ann Heyward: I developed a fascination with horror movies when I was about eight. In Cleveland, we were blessed with a succession of horror hosts who ran movies on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons – Ghoulardi, Houlihan, and Big Chuck, then Big Chuck and Little John on Channel 8, and Superhost on Channel 43. I watched all the Universal classics – Dracula, Frankenstein, and The Wolfman. The Creature from the Black Lagoon scared the shit out of me – the Gill-man lived in my closet at bedtime for quite a while. And there were those amazing television programs, like Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and The Outer Limits – God, those Zanti Misfits. My Mom, believe it or not, would also watch pretty much anything on TV that had to do with the paranormal or the supernatural. I remember watching The Invaders, Crowhaven Farm, and all the Kolchak movies together.

The first horror movie I saw in theatrical release was Tales from the Crypt (1972), directed by Freddie Francis. That one REALLY got me. I was eleven and threw up after seeing it just from the emotional upset. And what’s interesting – if you go back and watch it – is that it’s more about getting to the viewer on a psychological level than it is about actual gore. I see that in my own fiction now.

Me: Who were some of your favorite writers growing up? Do you try to take influences from their style with your own voice in your work?
AH: Stephen King, of course. I was the proverbial kid who’d read anything she could get her hands on, so I didn’t just gravitate to horror; I read everything. In my late teens, I was blown away by Kurt Vonnegut and Joseph Heller. If you read their work, there’s pure horror there in the absurdities that their characters encounter. That appeals to me a lot even now; I always say there’s a thin line between laughing and screaming. Ray Bradbury. Ramsey Campbell. Richard Matheson. John Wyndham. Joyce Carol Oates. Shirley Jackson’s quiet, sunlit horror. Daphne du Maurier. Flannery O’Connor. I still think “A Good Man is Hard to Find” is one of the best damn horror stories ever written. Anne Rice. Joyce Carol Oates. And edging into stuff that’s not regarded as horror but will nonetheless upset you greatly, Cormac McCarthy and Annie Proulx. I love their lean, spare prose.

Now, there’s Tananarive Due, Grady Hendrix, Paul Tremblay, Victor LaValle, John Langan, Stephen Graham Jones, Joe Hill, and, of course, and still, Father Steve…I know I’m going to miss mentioning someone; there are just so many great horror writers working now. I also like discovering writers that aren’t as well-known yet; that’s one reason the Hellbound Highway anthology was so much fun.

I try to avoid having anyone else’s voice appear in my work; that just doesn’t feel right. Usually, if I’m actively writing something, I’m not reading horror right then, for that reason. That being said, my admiration for those voices and the aspiration to write as well and effectively are absolutely there.

Me: What was the starting point of becoming a writer? Were you always into writing growing up?
AH: Not fiction, no. I liked writing about fiction, art, and history – essays, really. Funnily enough, I think my teachers knew me better than I knew myself. I was shocked when I won the English award in high school. Then I promptly turned around and majored in math in college. I didn’t really write anything much other than technical papers and reports and the occasional letter to the editor for the next forty years or so. But I did keep reading. And reading. And reading.

So fast forward to being 61 years old. I saw a contest announcement by The Ghost Story (theghoststory.com), which is edited by Paul Guernsey, and thought, what the hell, I’ve been reading horror forever, why not try and write some? So I did. That first story didn’t place in the competition, but then a year later, I won their Supernatural Fiction Award, with a story called The Carny (you can read it free at theghoststory.com/the-carny). And that very first story I wrote, See Kamp et al, eventually found a home on the NoSleep Podcast.

Me: Is there any specific genre you prefer to write? Is there a style or format that you find easier to get into, even if you don't have a preference?
AH: My work’s been described as quiet horror with a gut punch. I think of myself as a quiet horror writer – more psychological than visceral – but other people who’ve read my stuff have noted strong elements of body horror. I often find some scientific or medical element creeping into my work. A couple of writer friends have commented that in my stories, somebody always gets what they deserve (usually, it’s bad). I love the short story form. It just forces you to pare down to the absolute essentials. I’m trying to do more with epistolary format, because I love reading that. Just read an amazing piece by John Langan in his latest collection, where he tells an entire story through footnotes. I thought that was freaking brilliant.

Me: Having contributed to various anthologies early in your career, what tools and skills did you acquire working on those that transferred to future projects?
AH: I’d like to think I’m getting better as a writer. And when you read other people’s work, you do hone your sense of what works and what doesn’t, what’s powerful for you personally. One of the best things any horror writer – or anyone wanting to edit an anthology – can do is pick up any of Ellen Datlow’s annual “Best Horror” anthologies. She just has this wonderful, discerning taste in fiction. If it’s in there, it’s better than just good; it’s great. So learning from others has been very helpful.

Me: What is the general process for getting involved in these projects?
AH: For Hellbound Highway, Jane and I were emailing back and forth and thought it would be fun to collaborate on an anthology. I think I might have suggested the road trip horror idea – it’s absolutely one of my favorite themes – and we put together a short, written proposal and sent it off to James Longmore at Hellbound Books. He liked it, put a contract together for us, and there you go…we wrote a call for stories, got it posted on the HBB website as well as other places like Horror Tree, and the stories started pouring in.

I’m not at the stage of my career yet where I’m getting actively invited to contribute to an anthology, with acceptance a given. I generally respond to open calls I find online or on social media if the anthology theme sounds interesting. Sometimes I’ve got something already written that fits; other times, I’ll write something specifically for that call, and hope the editor likes it. I will say that I hope, having now co-edited an anthology, I’ve got a good sense of how to make an editor’s life easier by strictly adhering to the theme, the word count, the formatting, and any other submission requirements. In other words, make it easy to say yes to my story.

Me: How do you settle on the plots for the stories? Is there any special significance to the variety of stories infused with real locations from your hometown of Cleveland?
AH: A lot of my stories are rooted directly in memory, so I think that’s why Cleveland sneaks in there. Ditto Florida. We have some very close friends down there, so we try to get down there pretty often to see them. So Florida shows up in my work, too. We went on an amazing trip to Nebraska to see the sandhill crane migration last spring, and that made its way into my story, The Last Migration, that’s in Hellbound Highway. But memory is usually just the jumping-off place. Sometimes I don’t even know where it’s going to go. Sometimes I imagine just one scene, and then everything is written around that.

Me: Is there anything while writing the characters that you were surprised by in telling their stories?
AH: Sometimes they surprise me with the lengths they will go to. To survive, or get revenge, or assuage whatever deep sickness they have, or protect someone they love.

Me: What is your writing process? How do you stay focused on writing?
AH: I’ve always been pretty single-minded when it comes to work. That’s been true since college, and it’s still true now. I don’t adhere to a strict routine of the same time, every day, for so many hours or so many words. I know that works for a lot of writers, but for me, it’s more that when I’m under the spell of a story, I’m grabbing every minute I can to work on it, and each time I sit down to work on it, I’m working on it until I have to stop to do something else. I guess that sounds more like compulsion than focus, but there it is.

Me: As a co-editor on many of these anthologies, what type of collaboration goes on to make sure the edition is a success?
AH: I’ve only co-edited one so far, and I look forward to doing it again. Working with Jane Nightshade was the best possible experience. She and I really complement each other well, and she’s just fantastic to work with. For Hellbound Highway, we both read all the submitted stories.

Selections were a joint decision between us. Then we divided up the editing and the interaction with the authors to get the stories into their final form. Jane took on the assembly of the edited stories into a single large document for the book and took on the final edits and formatting with the folks at Hellbound Books Publishing. I took on the “keeping organized” stuff – spreadsheets of status for each submission, email lists, getting the contracts signed and back to the publisher, that kind of thing. We had twenty-eight stories total, so it was a lot for each of us – I’m so glad there were two of us doing it!

Me: What do you do to keep your creative energy flowing?
AH: So far, I have to say that hasn’t been something that’s taken conscious effort on my part. I think it’s important to be a good observer of the world around you. You never know where the next idea is going to come from.

One good example of that was when we were in Florida, and we met up with friends for breakfast on Sunday at this biker bar. The patrons are the most eclectic group you would ever see in a million years – guys in their leathers, biker chicks, retirees, a couple with a chihuahua, you name it. So this guy is sitting at the bar, baseball cap, plaid shirt, very nondescript – but in a place that’s absolutely packed with people, some waiting to sit down, he’s got an empty bar stool on either side of him. Nobody sat next to him. If you’re like me, that starts you wondering…why? Why is he sitting alone? Is he scary? Why is he scary? From that, I wound up with a zombie story where he was the only normal bar regular left, all the other regulars at the bar had turned, and he’d made it plain that anyone who messed with him would be dead-dead, not undead.

Me: What else are you working on that you'd like to share with our readers?
AH: My first collection of short stories, No One Heard Her Screams, is coming out in a couple of months from Lefthand Path Press. It has eighteen stories, about half new and half previously published. I’m also working on a non-fiction book about horror movies, entitled The Thinking Woman’s Guide to Horror Movies, which is a collection of essays about horror films. The chapters are organized around major themes that interest me in horror and that I think most films fall right into. One of the themes is “bad trip” movies – going back to what got me excited about Hellbound Highway.

Me: Lastly, being that this is our Women in Horror Movement, what special message do you have for any women out there looking to join in the industry in any capacity as you are one yourself?
AH: I feel like we’re still underrepresented, at least among “instantly recognizable” names in horror. I’m not sure why that is. But that’s changing. I think succeeding always must be, first, about the excellence of the work. I also would absolutely emphasize the importance of connecting to others in the horror community, regardless of gender or any other attribute. The horror community is one of the most welcoming, kind, and inclusive communities on the planet. Connecting to others working in horror not only brings you opportunity and resources, but it also brings you joy and friendship, and support to continue your own creative path. I’ve been part of an amazing group of writers who have given me so much good input on stories, so finding a critique group can be enormously helpful. This next thing is hard for a lot of writers: don’t be afraid to promote your own work. The world will not know of your work, even if it’s published, if you don’t talk about it. Finally, given that I started down this path later than most, I would definitely say it’s never too late to begin.

Thank you again for your time!

Comments