A Horror World Conversation with Rain Graves
By Steven E. Wedel

Rain Graves has the kind of brilliant smile that puts people at easy, makes them drop their guard, leaving them, well … vulnerable to what’s behind the smile. Let’s face it, there’s a reason she’s often the “Hostess of the Grossest” at the World Horror Convention’s Gross Out Contest.

As she’s packing bags and checking flight schedules for this year’s WHC, Rain was kind enough to spare a few moments to talk to Horror World about her past, present and future, her career as a writer and as a dancer, and a few other things.

Horror World: How long have you been writing?

Rain Graves: I guess you could say I’ve always been writing…ever since I was a kid. I started sending stuff out to publishers in 1997, so that was when I started to take writing seriously.

HW: What made you want to start writing?

RG: I needed a new creative outlet. At the time I had made the decision to stop pursuing music on a professional level, and still wanted to “create” things. Writing was a natural progression from music to help get my thoughts out.

HW: What drew you to the dark side of literature?

RG: I think it was my grandparents fault. All the dark fairy tales they used to read to me as a child…and all the spooky stories my grandmother used to tell me about the family had a big part in it too. She still calls me up and tells me creepy things just to get me, and it still freaks me out sometimes.

HW: Who, or what, has influenced your writing, both stylistically and as a career option?

RG: That’s a tough question. I’d say life has influenced my writing the most – the way I grew up and the things I’ve done in my life since then. All the places I’ve traveled to, all the people I’ve met, and all the amazing experiences I’ve been blessed to have had. I had wonderful teachers in high school, as well as college, and two stand out in my mind as having directly pushed me to be a writer, even though I never thought I would want to be one back then. Judy Low was my high school English teacher for 3 out of the 4 years. Her influence is apparent in all my poetry. Mostly because she introduced me to Tennyson, Poe, Sandburg…all of that wonderful poetry.

The Dean of Gallaudet University once told me I should change my major to English and start writing novels. I told him he was crazy—that I was going to be a rock star instead. But he was right…

But if you mean the folks I’ve read who have influenced me outside of the poets I’ve mentioned already, I’d have to say all the original fairy tale writers—Grimm, Anderson, etc… Then Ray Bradbury, maybe James Ellroy for The Black Dahlia, and most definitely George R. R. Martin.

HW: Your first professional publication was to the Transylvanian Society of Dracula’s publishing imprint. The story, “Thoughts of Anna,” also placed in a Dracula convention creative writing contest. Tell us a little about the story, what inspired it, and how you felt about placing in the contest and the publication.

RG: It started as a lark, really. David N. Wilson had read some of my work back then, and he was pushing me to get published. I was fighting the idea both out of fear of rejection and out of fear that I couldn’t accomplish a good enough story. He nudged me enough to write it, and then nudged me farther into sending it out. I had no clue that the story would win second place at Dracula ’97, which was a convention celebrating the centennial of Bram Stoker’s Dracula being in print.

The requirements for entries were difficult to meet: the story had to be inventive but traditional – it had to involve the character of Dracula in some way but couldn’t be a pastiche of Bram Stoker’s work. I had no clue how to be inventive about vampires. Most of what I’d read had been nothing involving Bram Stoker’s Dracula—stories by Anne Rice, George R. R. Martin (Fevre Dream), and Poppy Z. Brite were all I’d known in terms of thinking outside the box.

I didn’t want to write about Dracula himself, either. So I started thinking about ways around him…I came up with an old folks home, and two little old ladies in it fighting the good fight, mistaken for nut jobs because of their age and station in life. The idea that one of them could possibly be a vampire, and one of them a “Van Helsing” of sorts trying to convince everyone that she was, in fact, a blood sucker was amusing to me. The story unfolds around a kid that grows up visiting a relative at the home, only he continues to go back long after her death to see Anna, the resident vampire.

I was totally surprised that it was accepted for entry, and doubly surprised that it won second place in the category of “Best Short Fiction.” They hadn’t had enough entries all together, so they lumped both the amateurs and the professionals into the same category, when they’d been separated in the initial call for entries. So to have the first story I had ever sent anywhere place and win as a “pro” status category, plus get published and paid for…really gave me the incentive I needed to consider doing more. So I did. And here we are.

HW: That second-place win wasn’t your last award. You won the 2002 Bram Stoker Award from the Horror Writers Association for The Gossamer Eye, a poetry collection with David Niall Wilson and Mark McLaughlin. How did it come about that the three of you wrote that book?

RG: Another happy accident. I pitched a book of poetry to Stephe Pagel of Meisha Merlin at a World Horror Convention… Denver it may have been…some years back. Stephe came up with the idea of doing the book with two other people—I don’t recall how Mark and David and I came up with the idea itself as a concept…but that was pretty much it. One weekend at a convention; one conversation with Stephe. Whammo! Our little green monster was born. We all have very different voices, and we didn’t want to construct some “compromise” voice that wouldn’t be any of us…so we just each did our own thing and took a third of the book. We never dreamed that a publisher would want to do it, but they took a chance on us, and it paid off. We are so grateful to have had that opportunity. It opened up so many doors—both for other poets and ourselves.

HW: Let’s change gears for just a moment. Besides writing, you perform as a spoken word artist and have received international recognition for dancing and teaching tango dancing. Let’s talk about the spoken word bit for a second. For those who don’t know, will you explain what that is, and tell us how you got into it?

RG: Spoken word is basically a performance – you get up on a stage in front of a lot of people, and instead of just reading your work, you perform it. That may be adding gusto to the way you recite it, or dancing to it, or just becoming the character within the work. As long as you get it across to your audience, you have performed the written word by speaking it. I like to do poetry that way, though I don’t always memorize what I speak. San Francisco is a great town to do Spoken Word in. There are so many great artists out there to see and appear with—it’s fantastic.

HW: Now, about the dancing. How did you get started in that? Why tango, as opposed to some other form?

RG: Again—another accident. How I got into it probably isn’t as important as why I stayed in it. I began the lessons because someone I was involved with at the time suggested we take them and I had always wanted to learn but never had a reason. One month into the beginner lessons, we broke up—he swore never to dance tango again (how dramatic!) and I just kept right on doing it. A year later I was performing in an amateur competition and won the Grand Prize awarded by the Argentine Government, before De LaRua fell. I flew all expenses paid, VIP, to stay in Argentina and study with the masters. That pretty much kick-started my career as a professional dancer, and I’ve worked with some of the best tango dancers in the world… Even got to perform at a film release party once for a documentary on Pablo Neruda’s life on Neruda’s birthday some years ago – what a gift for a dancer and a poet! I’d still be dancing if I hadn’t gotten into a car wreck in late 2006. Now I no longer perform, but I still dance socially on occasion for fun.

HW: All right, let’s get back to the writing. You’ve appeared in numerous anthologies of fiction and poetry. Which of those collaborative efforts are you most proud of, and why?

RG: Oh, I’m proud of most of them. I’d have to say two are my most favorite—though one hasn’t come out yet. That would be IN LAYMON’S TERMS: A TRIBUTE TO RICHARD LAYMON. He was a great mentor to me for the short few years I knew him, and it was very hard to write a story that he would have liked as a tribute to him. I’m very proud to be a part of that project. The second one would have to be “The Drunkard’s Coin,” which appeared in DAUGHTER OF DANGEROUS DAMES put out by Twilight Tales—I think it’s out of print now. It got an honorable mention in volume 14 of YEARS BEST FANTASY AND HORROR edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling. I had no idea. In fact, it was Neil Gaiman that told me I’d gotten the mention when he was looking up his name in the index. I don’t think it was a particularly good story on my part, but I’m glad someone liked it.

HW: There’s aren’t very many actual Rain Graves books out there. Blood of a Blackbird is out of print. A new poetry collection, Barfodder: Poetry Written in Dark Bars and Questionable Cafes, is due soon from Cemetery Dance. Do you prefer shorter formats, like poetry and short stories, over novel length work? Are you working on something longer?

RG: I’ve written many longer things, but they aren’t published yet. I am working with an agent again, and a package I sent him last fall piqued his interest in a treatment that I’m turning into a novel called GARDEN OF ANGELS. I admit, however, the going is slow on that one. I never intended it to be a book, and I’m finishing up something completely unrelated first.

I also write a novel that the first 33,000 words had gone to Leisure for…sort of a sci-fi/dark fantasy bit of fiction called THE MASK OF THE DRAGONFLY, but it took a turn I didn’t like and I need to re-write the whole thing. Don is still waiting on that one (sorry Don!), but I’m not happy with the way it turned out, so until I fix it all, it stays in the desk drawer.

Over the last few years, I’ve had friends challenge me (in good ways) to try writing treatments and scripts and things. For some strange reason, people really like those things I’ve done, and while I can’t say more than that—for the first time in my life I’ve considered doing something in that area. I really don’t like the industry to be honest, so I’ve always stayed away from it despite opportunities that I’ve had to do things. That may change.

I also have a lovely graphic novel called DEADLAND that’s almost finished. I have an artist in mind for it, though I’d rather have a publisher first. That’s another thing in the hopper.

I’m a bit picky about where I send things. I have never been the kind of writer that cranks stuff out and sends it off immediately – no. I have tons and tons of stuff that’s completed and in the desk drawer, but I wait until I find the right publisher before I send things out. Cemetery Dance was my first choice for BARFODDER – and I’m lucky enough that they happened to like it. Short stories…I haven’t really sent out a short story in probably a year. I have written plenty of them, however. I’ve just been lazy about sending them out.

HW: Tell us about Barfodder. Did you really write all the poems in dark bars and questionable cafes? What can we expect to find on those pages?

RG: Indeed, I did. All over. New York, Los Angeles, Buenos Aires, and of course… San Francisco. Some of those places I was writing in aren’t even around anymore, though I listed them in my acknowledgements. I used to take a journal with me wherever I went, and if the mood struck me, I’d write. It’s a lot of different things…political miffs, tango poetry, serial killers, monsters and gods and love and loss. All the usual suspects. I hope it’s a good representation of what I’ve been up to, though it has been a while since I’ve written it. I go through phases where I do nothing but write poetry…and then others (like now) where I don’t write poetry at all.

HW: All right, let’s talk about getting grossed out. First, for those who have never seen it, tell us what the WHC Gross Out Contest is. How does it work?

RG: The Annual Gross Out Contest is where contestants sign up to read five minutes of their most visceral work to a panel of judges and an audience. You must achieve full grossity by how well you read, your ability to incorporate the grossness into the plot, and of course—how disgusting it is. Not an easy thing to do. At least…the plot part. People have a grand time trying, though.

HW: How many times have you competed in the contest? Have you won it?

RG: Oh goodness…since 1997 in Phoenix, I only ever missed one Gross Out Contest, and that was 2007 in Toronto, because they nixed it from the programming. I didn’t attend that year, though I heard there was an “unofficial” contest that was a blast. I have won second place, many, many times…but I don’t recall ever winning first. Eventually they retired me to let others have a chance. I love hosting…it’s a blast.

HW: Now, there are some who argue that the Gross Out Contest diminishes the professionalism of WHC. What would you say to those uptight … I mean, what would you say to those folks?

RG: I would say that’s ridiculous. The Gross Out Contest is not for everyone, but it is a very fun event and a challenge for most writers, professional and not. If professional writers like Richard Laymon, Jack Ketchum, Ed Lee, and John Pelan can have judged the contest and before that…competed in it…reading snippets from novels they have had published professionally as entries, I can’t say that diminishes the professionalism at all. If anything, it promotes that professional writers participate in the past time. To say that the Gross Out Contest diminishes professionalism at a professional convention would be like saying showing Texas Chainsaw Massacre diminishes professionalism at a professional convention. After all…Leatherface did some really gross stuff with that chainsaw.

People who feel it diminishes the professionalism can go to the bar and have a drink and be “professional” there instead. We don’t force anyone’s hand—and for years it’s been one of the most popular events for participants and the audience. It’s even helped little known writers get heard, and later, have opportunities to get published by people who have heard them read that remembered their ability to weave a plot under difficult circumstances. It’s not easy, but it sure is fun. Just because you go to or participate in the contest does not make you unprofessional. And those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

HW: What’s your best memory of a Gross Out Contest?

RG: I think it was the year that Charlee Jacob won first place. She had this amazing story about worshipping a profane goddess—but she feared with the inclusion of props that year that someone with a better prop but not a better story might get a leg up, so she went down to Chinatown and got herself this…well…it was a great big raw (plucked) chicken with the neck still on. At the end of her story, she took that chicken by the neck and started swinging it like a battle ax and whooped up a big war cry and flung it into the audience. Her story was so incredibly amazing that the chicken bit shocked everyone because she didn’t even need it—but it was hilarious and we all just kept saying, “Dude—did you SEE her fling that chicken?” It was a beautiful and glorious moment for us all. I only wish I remembered her story more than the chicken.

HW: Does gender matter in horror? Have you encountered any resistance based on your sex, or had any breaks because of it?

RG: I think it used to. When I started, there were so few women I could name that were writing and publishing horror. Now there are much more of us, though we are still a minority. It used to be more of a boys club…but I have to say, everyone in the boys club was happy to welcome women into the bunch. I haven’t experienced any resistance based on my gender, and never had any breaks because I’m female. In fact, when I started, for years I refused to even have a photo of myself on my website because I thought it would matter…and waited until I had enough publishing credits to where I didn’t think it mattered. I don’t really think it ever did, though. I feel I’ve been judged on my merit as a writer, and not my vagina. There, I said it. Vagina, vagina, vagina!

I think it’s tough for women to be taken seriously writing horror sometimes—but now we have organizations like the Persephone Writers, which I’m a member of, that can help women network with other women to help achieve their goals. We share information, marketing, and advice that we might not get in general. It’s a way to learn from one another, as we’ve all worked very hard to get where we are in the genre and it hasn’t been easy just as a writer, let alone worrying about being female having an effect on the type of contract we might get…if we get one at all. It’s not about being female. It’s about being the best writer you can be.

HW:We’ve covered the contest, dancing, and a lot of your writing, but there’s more. You do a lot of other writing, and have worked as editor of a magazine. Tell us a little about your involvement in editing, in writing for TV and various other things.

RG: I started out editing for a San Francisco goth zine called ERRATA with a guy named Perki. He was the art, I was the words. It ran for about a year before it got too big for us, and then imploded. It was a lot of fun, and it was my first stint as a fiction editor. The second zine I worked for was Gothic.net as poetry editor, and I was with them for 3 years before the zine was sold to some folks in Chicago after they could no longer make their bills. I was hearing from a lot of the poets that they hadn’t been paid, so I refused to accept any more work until that changed. Instead, the magazine went to new owners, who I have heard did a great job reviving it.

Then came Spiderwords – which was my attempt at creating more awareness for dark poetry. We only paid for the poetry—which is the opposite of almost everyone else in mainstream zines. At present, it’s frozen in time, waiting to be resurrected by the Deep Ones (read = mysterious sponsors). I haven’t had time to work on it in the past few years. We kept it live because Neil Gaiman had some poetry in the zine that he linked in FRAGILE THINGS, and he wanted people to be able to find the reference. So it stays. Truthfully, it needs to be redesigned and have a better system of publishing implemented. I did that whole thing on Dreamweaver and Contribute, and though I had volunteers, the only one really helping was Baine Pavay—my former assistant (who has since moved to Boston to pursue his own career in writing).

As for TV – I wrote voice-overs ages ago for MTV’s Imagine Radio (now defunct), and in my day job, I sometimes write fifteen and thirty second spots for the things that are broadcast on TV’s in retail stores. It can be fun, but it can also be difficult. Especially when I have to write about food. Writing about food all day makes you very hungry.

As for other things…well, I just picked up surfing last year. I love it, though I’m very bad at it.

HW: What are your long-term goals? When your grandkids talk about Grandma Rain, what do you want them to say about you?

RG: Long term goals? To put out a few novels; maybe another book of poetry. Travel more. To surf Ocean Beach again (without drowning). To get my knees and ankles to the point where I can dance without pain. To be healthy and happy.

As for grandchildren…hmmm. I think I’d want them to say that I’d led a very full and amazing life, which I have. And maybe have a little of that awe and wonder that children get when they see spooky, crazy things…and I want them to always know that I will always have the best candy on Halloween.

HW: Anything you’d like to add?

RG: No, I think you’ve covered everything. Thank-you.

HW: Thank you for your time, Rainy.