Waiter, There's A Monster In My Soup

Heading for the Bayou tonight for music and some gumbo. I don't expect anything unexpected to surface in my soup bowl, but strange things do happen. Sometimes I' m asked why I write about vampires, with a zombie or a shape-shifter thrown in for good measure.

First, it's fun. I've enjoyed the dark side of fantasy since I was a child. Snow White's evil queen and her magic mirror fascinated me. Why was she so cruel? The monsters I write about do not walk this earth. Their realm is the imagination...places where a cold sweat might begin. What's under the bed or in that closet when the lights go out? Are those branches scratching against the window pane? What makes you hurry down the street at night...did you really hear a voice or is it the wind whining in the leaves? Second, that adrenalin rush always turns me on. It seems natural to explore the scary side of fantasy. Yeah, I like big roller coasters, too.

There are other monsters I find much more horrific than my blood-thirsty crew. These are the monsters of our realm. Child molesting pedophiles, rapists, sadistic brutes, abusive parents and psychic vampires are more terrifying than the fictional side show. They wreak havoc every day. I've encountered a few choice specimens, as I'm sure you have. They are commonplace in our society. If they've ever crossed your path, I don't think you would describe the event as commonplace, though.

My stories may have elements of real world monsters in them. Some are evil, some are...different. You might find you feel a twinge of sympathy for my fantastic monster. Maybe he didn't choose this life. Maybe she was betrayed. Maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, this is make believe. I have no sympathy for real monsters. You may have heard where 'sympathy' is in the dictionary...between 'shit' and 'syphilis'. That sums up my feelings about sympathy for those miscreants. The devastation they cause is beyond words.

Give me a blood-sucking Nosferatu or a howling werewolf any day. They are what they are. Maybe they've have moved from Transylvania or the moors of England, but their song remains the same. They will give you a good scare. Sometimes, they'll give you a good laugh. After all, they're only non-human, not inhumane.