From Zombos Closet

July 4, 2011

Meet the Author: Chad Helder

chad helder by Chad Helder

Author Chad Helder walks the twisting path between the grim fairy tale and the dark forest. Meet him right now…in his own words…near a dark playground nestled deep within the brooding pines.


After attending the Horror Writers Association’s Stoker Weekend in New York a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been reflecting on why I am a horror writer. For me, being a horror writer is my personal response to being gay. With all of the cultural pressures and individual fears associated with being gay in a homophobic society (fear of rejection by family and church community, fear of AIDS, fear of hate crimes, and–worst of all for me–fear of becoming a reviled stereotype), each person responds in an individual way. I became a horror writer.

Growing up in the ‘80s, I was exposed to a variety of negative gay stereotypes. One of the unfortunate psychological responses to living in a homophobic culture is to internalize homophobia, which becomes a strain of self-hatred.  I think Jung’s concept of the shadow is very helpful to understand this. Wanting to deny the emerging gay feelings and desires, I banished them to the shadow side of the psyche–the same place where all unwanted thoughts and feelings are banished. Then a strange thing happened–my unconscious mind associated my fear of becoming gay with the monsters of the horror genre. I don’t intend to make this sound like some kind of simple cause and effect scenario–I actually find it to be quite mysterious.

From the time I was about fourteen-years-old until my mid-twenties, I had a horrifying series of nightmares about Satan and vampires. For me, these universally recognized shadow figures embodied my fear of becoming gay.

Jung wrote about levels of the unconscious mind: an individual unconscious, a cultural unconscious, and a collective unconscious from which our most universal archetypes emerge. Clearly, the archetype of the vampire is a universal shadow figure that appears throughout the world. In my personal unconscious, the vampire embodied internalized homophobia–the monster I was afraid to become. However, I would also argue that the vampire was associated with homophobia in the cultural unconscious of the ‘80s, best represented by Lost Boys (or Nightmare on Elms Street 2 with Freddy as the shadow figure).

For a terrifying summer before I started high school, I was preoccupied with being possessed by Satan. It seemed that Satan could hear my thoughts, and he was waiting for me to slip up and allow him inside. In retrospect, this fear of having my body taken over by Satan (or by vampires) seems a vivid metaphor for becoming a gay man against my will.

After many years psychological work and finding a wonderful partner, I consider myself to be a very well-adjusted gay man–and a very nice, caring person to boot. However, the shadow side of my psyche is still populated by monstrous vampires and Satanic shadow figures. I’ve heard it said that the unconscious mind does not know time.

Over the years, I explored these connections between queer theory and the horror genre on my blog, which eventually led to editing an anthology of queer horror with Vince Liaguno. The anthology is called Unspeakable Horror: From the Shadows of the Closet, and it won the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in an Anthology, which was a wonderful validation for all of the exploring, blogging, and theorizing about the underpinnings of queer horror and those closet chapters of my earlier life.

Book Review: Guilty Pleasures
Reviewed by Professor Kinema

Guilty Pleasures of the horror film

As a Cinema Historian, archivist, and collector, I especially enjoy being on just about everyone's mailing list. This results in an influx of catalogues. Always one of my favorites is the latest from the Midnight Marquee Press. Of the many books offered by this small, but dedicated press are two edited by Gary J. Svehla and Susan Svehla called Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Film and Son of Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Flim

The Kinema Archives houses many periodicals from the house of Gary and Susan Svehla. It makes one pine for the days of FanEx when one could visit their table and peruse the piles of literary treasures on display. Like all true MonsterKid-friendly dealers, a bargain could always be gotten. The more one bought, the more one could get a deal and all were interesting and welcome additions to any and all libraries of fantastic literature.

Both Guilty Pleasures books offer interesting insights into B movies such as Rodan, Two Lost Worlds, The Indestructible Man, The Tingler, Frankenstein's Daughter, Robot Monster and Giant Gila Monster among others.

True, as the titles of the books would indicate, as well as the catalogue descriptions state, these are far from cinematic masterpieces. Yet because they are less than perfect (or even good by any sense of the word) they are still fun to watch and entertainingly so. Personal reasons why they are treasured are given in individual essays by authors like Tom Weaver, John Parnum, Gary Don Rhodes and Don Leifert. These reasons ring true. The cover of the first book is a different design than the one housed in the Kinema Archives, but the content is the same.

These two books offer a counterbalance to how these films are written about in other books; mainly 'scholar' Bill Warren's Keep Watching the Skies. The above mentioned films, along with many others, get far less than positive individual treatments in his third (count 'em three) refurbished edition of his work. In a film genre he claims to have a true affection for he finds a variety of truly pseudo-creative ways for trashing them, as well as insulting the 'auteurs' involved.

Truly, one could view these films, research them by consulting previously published accounts and critiques, seek out and interview people involved in the making of them, and offer personal opinion, but determining them to be guilty pleasures provides refreshing insight.

Many of the other book titles offered in the Midnight Marquee Press catalogue, as well as Warren's opus, are all welcome additions to the Kinema Archives, too.