When I was asked to read an advanced copy of Pete Mesling's new collection of short fiction, None so Deaf, I jumped at the opportunity. Having shared the pages of various anthologies I knew I would be in for some good reading...and I wasn't disappointed. From the first story, one that filled me with claustrophobic dread, right up to the final offering, I was thoroughly entertained and enraptured. Pete has this ability to pull you into the narrative like a pied piper of word slinging and right when you feel like you know where the story's going, right when it feels safe, he pulls the rug out from under you in the best possible way, an effect of which, when done wrong, becomes contrived, and when done right (as Pete seems to have nearly perfected) is reminiscent of such luminaries as Bloch, Bradbury and Matheson.
I enjoyed the book so much that I asked Pete for an interview, to which he obliged. Following the interview are links to buy the book, and believe me, you'll want to get a copy.
Robert Essig: “The
Worst is Yet to Come”, the first story in your new collection
None So Deaf, deals with claustrophobia
among other themes. As someone who has dealt with claustrophobia, I found this tale
unsettling. The setting reminded me of an empty lot above my childhood house on
the mountain we lived on. This story could have been culled from my own youth,
so I couldn’t help but wonder if your own youth was inspiration on not only
this story, but your writing in general.
Pete Mesling: I’m
glad to hear you were unsettled! I spent a lot of time on the North Dakota
prairie in my youth, so yes, I think that does inform much of my writing. On
the other hand, I’ve lived in Seattle for a long time now, so that also informs
my writing, as does the weird clash of both settings. I never trapped myself inside
a gun safe, as young Lyndon does in the story, but I do suffer from
claustrophobia, as I suspect most people do, to varying degrees. Elevators are
like coffins to me, for instance. I hate them and need to use them every day,
but I opt for the stairs whenever it’s an option.
RE: Where
does the title None So Deaf come
from?
PM: None So Deaf came from a fairly long
list, to be honest. From the beginning, my publisher, Books of the Dead Press,
was interested in publishing two volumes of my short stories, and one of my
proposed titles was None So Deaf, None So
Blind. This popped out as an easy title to separate while retaining a sort
of connective tissue. As a result, this volume is called None So Deaf, and the follow-up will be titled None So Blind. Both titles come from the old quotation attributed
to Matthew Henry, that there are none so deaf as those who will not hear, and
none so blind as those who will not see. I suppose there’s an impish
implication there that many of the victims in my fiction get what’s coming to
them. The titles are also an imperative of sorts for the reader. Listen up!
Look alive!
RE: Many
of these stories have twists that I didn’t see coming, which I found exciting
and somewhat reminiscent of Robert Bloch and the Twilight Zone. That’s not easy
to pull off. Do these turn of events come naturally in your writing process, or
do you have to work and rework the scenes to achieve the desired effect.
PM: First
of all, thank you. Both Robert Bloch and The
Twilight Zone have been big influences, especially The Twilight Zone. Richard Matheson, who wrote some of the best Zone episodes, was one of the greatest
fantasists of the 20th century. Charles Beaumont was also superb. In
fact, be on the lookout in None So Blind
for a long-ish story that I view as kind of an expansion of the concept behind
the great Beaumont-penned Zone
episode, “The Howling Man.” To answer your question, though, some kind of
surprising element is important to me in fiction. If memory serves, Charlotte
Brontë had something—The Professor
maybe?—rejected because it lacked, in the words of one would-be editor, “a startling
incident.” I think I know what that editor meant. I think of it as a shock
point, but it’s probably about the same thing. It’s when something in a story
turns and shakes the reader awake. It doesn’t have to be terribly shocking, of
course. It can be a death, a kiss, a revelation. Whatever. But it has to be
unexpected and yet plausible in the context of the story. It has to be earned,
I think. I usually don’t sit down to begin work on a first draft until I have
two ideas that have kind of merged together. That merger is what I consider to
be a proper premise, and it often provides enough tension to accommodate, if
not demand, the kind of twist I think you’re referring to. Then yes, I rewrite
and rewrite some more until I feel the effect is just right.
RE: I’m
a sucker for flawed protagonists, and there are plenty of them in this
collection, some even malicious. Are their stories more fun to write?
PM: Great
question. I suppose they are. If writing fiction is, in part, the act of making
sense of the world, it follows that characters with flaws, whether they’re
protagonists or not, will hold a special kind of allure. And some of this probably
goes back to Aristotle and his ideas about tragedy. At the same time, I love it
when a genuinely likable character presents herself or himself to me. It’s
difficult to write “nice” without coming across as saccharine. Jesus, Charles
Dickens still endures criticism on this front. He remains the gold standard, by
the way. The emotional sweep of his novels, from terrifying darkness to great
joy and levity, is one of the great magic tricks of literature.
RE: You’re
stranded on a desert island and you’ve only brought with you five of your
favorite books to read over and over until you are saved or starve to death
after eating your own appendages. What five books would you choose?
PM: It
never hurts to be prepared! Okay, I’m going to have to take the Bible to see if
I can finally make any damn sense of that thing. David Copperfield, Clive Barker’s Imajica … Can I count all of Robert McCammon’s Matthew Corbett
novels as one (once he’s finished them all)? If not, then at least the first
one, Speaks the Nightbird. Um, Ursula
K. LeGuin’s Always Coming Home. I’d
probably smuggle a dictionary onto that island as a sixth book, too. It would
be hell not having a good dictionary at hand.
RE: Vampires
and zombies have had their day in the sun, so to speak. If you could hand pick
the next horror sub-genre/creature to get the spotlight, what would it be and
why?
PM: Categories
can be so restrictive … I realize that I’ve published a number of zombie
stories, but it was never a very conscious thing. In fact, sometimes the zombie
element didn’t present itself until after I’d written a draft or two of the
story. If you have a strong vampire idea and really feel that you need to run
with it, you should. Why not? If you can inject it with some new blood (heh,
heh), all the better. But I try not to obsess about trends. The next one is
impossible to predict, and the current one is always getting more and more tired
by the day. Write from the heart!
RE: “The
Tree Mumblers” is a quick little piece of flash fiction, ominous in tone and
open to interpretation. I couldn’t help but think that the mumblers were
perhaps reading the unwritten works hidden in the very fibers of living trees.
Maybe they’re just waiting for the revolution.
I get the feeling that there are deeper themes to many of these stories,
hiding beneath the surface. Is this so, and if so, do you make a concerted
effort to embed deeper meaning in your work?
PM: Another
great question. Sometimes that intention is there from the beginning. When it
is, I try to bury it during my initial pass, keep it from getting in the way of
telling the story at hand. Then, in subsequent drafts, I’m more willing to give
it voice. I tend to trust that if a theme, or message, is legitimate, it will
hang around. And sometimes I don’t even see a thematic strain until after the
story is complete. Art is funny that way. You plug into something bigger than
yourself when you sit down to create something. You’re not always in full control.
At least not consciously. You notice this kind of thing even more with music.
When I used to compose a lot of guitar music, I’d often be surprised at some of
the things I heard after the hundredth time playing a piece. Sometimes a
structural element would strike me as especially apt. Sometimes it was a key
change. Or sometimes I’d notice that something didn’t work as well as it could
have, so I’d change it. I never considered a piece of music complete until I’d
played it hundreds of times. You don’t really put fiction through that same
kind of grinder. That’s why I think that although a first draft of fiction
should be free and loose enough to keep you writing, it should also be strong
enough to warrant future drafts. The point of revision should be to polish a
gem, not squeeze diamonds from coal.
RE: What
can we expect to see in the future for Pete Mesling. Anything coming out that you
would like to talk about?
PM: Well,
as mentioned, a second volume of short stories will be out from Books of the
Dead Press at some point. There might be some limited editions of both volumes
to look forward to as well, so keep an eye peeled for those. But first things
first. None So Deaf is currently only
available as an ebook, so we’re working to get that out as a print edition in
time for StokerCon in May. I’ve got a story coming out from April Moon Books
very soon. That will be in their Spawn of
the Ripper anthology, which is a nod to the Hammer and Amicus horror films
of yesteryear. Should be a lot of fun. Other than that, most of my efforts this
year are going to be poured into the completion of my novel.
RE: Your
parting words. Do you have a website, blog, social media you would like to
direct people to?
PM: Thanks for the thoughtful questions, Robert. It’s been a real pleasure. Folks
are encouraged to visit my website:
http://www.petemesling.com/ That’s the hub
for everything. From there they can subscribe to
The Occasional Newsletter, check in on my Bare Knuckle Podcast, dig
into my blog, and of course purchase my work!
RE: It was great having you, Pete! I wish you great success with your new book.
None So Deaf is available from
Books of the Dead Press.
Pete Mesling’s silhouette can, on rare occasions, be
glimpsed prowling the watery byways of Seattle, Washington. In addition
to being over the moon to have secured a deal with Books of the Dead
Press for his debut collection, None So Deaf, he has sold fiction to
such publications as All American Horror of the 21st Century, the First
Decade: 2001 – 2010; Black Ink Horror; Best New Zombie Tales, Vol. 2;
Spawn of the Ripper from April Moon Books; Champagne Shivers; Doorways;
two of the Potter’s Field anthologies; Side Show 2: Tales of the Big Top
and the Bizarre; Night Terrors; and a handful of Library of the Living
Dead anthologies. When not writing or podcasting, Mesling enjoys
dreaming up new ways to scare the bejesus out of his fiancée and revels
in bike rides with his daughter, whose nickname is taken from a
character in a Boris Karloff film.
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