HFR INTERVIEW:
ROBERT DUNBAR
Robert Dunbar's debut novel THE PINES was originally released in 1989 by Dorchester Publishing. While critics and fans considered it to be an underrated treat for horror fans, the author wasn't happy with the version that had gone to press. In 2006, the good folks at Delirium Books finally released the unabridged, uncut version to the delight of the author (and his fans). Now, in November of 2008, Leisure Books has re-released THE PINES in all its uncut glory (and at an affordable price to boot). Robert talks to THE HORROR FICTION REVIEW about his classic novel that's now reaching a new generation of fans--the PINES' sequel, THE SHORE--and answers our pressing HFR-classic questions.
HORROR FICTION REVIEW: Congrats on THE PINES' second mass market release, which is unedited. Can you tell us (without spoiling the story) what happened with the first release?
The amazing thing to me is not that THE PINES was mangled at the time, but that it managed to get such incredibly good reviews anyway. And not just within the genre. No, it was the mainstream media that really championed it. Reviews employing words like “superb” and “masterpiece” appeared in an astonishing number of places. Still … more than a decade would pass before Delirium Books published a restored, limited edition. And again the reviews were stellar. How many places referred to the book as a “modern classic”? Of course the most gratifying aspect of all that were those critics who raved about the difference between the two … how much deeper and better this “new” version seemed. Can you even imagine what that did for me as a writer? How it felt? And then Don D’Auria contacted me. At first, I couldn’t believe it. Leisure wanted to publish a mass market paperback of the restored novel? Really? This isn’t a joke? And now they’re going to publish THE SHORE. Wow! Isn’t it funny how things work out? Just when you stop believing in happy endings … HFR: Do you plan on writing another sequel, or will THE SHORE be the end of the Jersey Devil saga? RD: First of all, these books aren’t really about the Leeds Devil (aka the Pines Phantom, aka the Jersey Devil). Let’s just get that out of the way right off the bat. I utilize the persistent belief in this superstition as a backdrop for a vastly more sophisticated narrative. But you’re right of course – I always intended it to be a trilogy. As for when I’m going to write the third installment … I’ll keep you posted. But I do return to the pine barrens in my new novel, WILLY, as well as in MARTYRS & MONSTERS. HFR: What film(s) do you consider to be scary? RD: SHOWGIRLS still frightens me into fidgets. Oh, you mean horror films? I’ll tell you – I’ve got pretty idiosyncratic tastes in that regard. I expect quality. Go figure. And I’m not a huge fan of CGI creatures. Or splatter porn. I mean, I enjoy seeing Paris Hilton get hit with an ax as much as the next person, but is this really where the genre has ended up? This tasteless mess? Even the more interesting of the most recent crop of horror films don’t really sustain dramatic tension … or character development … or plot logic. Please. Some of the new directors can manage a moment of atmosphere – here and there – but they’ve clearly forgotten about a vital ingredient in any film: the script. When did every guy with a camera decide he could write? No, when I want a good film, I mostly turn to the classics. What today compares to THE HAUNTING or THE INNOCENTS or THE UNINVITED or THE SEVENTH VICTIM or NIGHT OF THE DEMON? Even the old Universal monster movies are preferable to the new stuff. Don’t get me started. You know what? Through Halloween, I’ve actually got a blog posted at my site about classic horror films. You should check it out. HFR: Does music influence what you write? RD: Besides Rasputina? Well, I seem to listen to a lot of Scriabin when I’m working. (Don’t you love that he composed symphonies for instruments that didn’t exist? And wanted colors projected from the stage? I mean, it’s 1909 and he’s orchestrating light shows.) Otherwise I’ve got pretty catholic taste. No, not Gregorian Chant. Catholic with a small “c.” You know, diverse. Everything from Coltrane to Tori Amos, from Moby to Marianne Faithful. What else have I been keen on lately? Let me think. Perry Blake, Seal, Lang Lang, Keith Jarrett – all it really has to be is brilliant. I’m funny like that. HFR: Of all the short fiction you've had published, what's your personal favorite and why? RD: You want me to choose between my babies? Bizarre. Okay, give me a second. Well, probably I’d have to go with my very first story. First one I ever wrote, first one ever published. It’s called “Like a Story” and it concerns two boys in a sort of temporary foster situation in the pine barrens. Looking back, it seems that all of my fictional themes were already in place, albeit in inchoate form. Everything from alienation and isolation to sexuality and redemption. After a frenzy of bloody mayhem, it ends with these words: “Tell me a story.” In retrospect, that seems to leads nicely into everything that was to follow. HFR: You went from the big press to the small and then back again. Which do you prefer to work with? RD: Tough call. I expect I’ll go back and forth in the years to come – bigger publishers and smaller ones. Both have an important place in the scheme of things. Right now, Leisure is the best place for me to be. With Don D’Auria at the helm, everything is coming together – their stable of writers, their art department, their marketing. And certainly the larger presses can offer one thing the smaller ones can’t. No, not money. That’s not really much of an issue for an artist. No, I mean exposure. The number of readers you can reach. That’s what it’s all about. Yet there’s no question that a lot of quality work comes out of small presses these days – often they nurture the truly original talents. I don’t mean the thousand crypto-vanity presses that have sprung up all over the place, but legitimate small presses like Delirium or Dark Hart or Bloodletting. Look at some of the amazing work that comes out of Cemetery Dance. Then compare it with the semiliterate drivel being published by “big” places like … oh well, maybe we shouldn’t go there. And quite a number of interesting small presses have flourished lately. Cargo Cult for instance is definitely worth keeping an eye on. But who knows what this economy is going to do in the months to come? It’s a tough business at the best of times. On the other hand, it’s precisely at times like these when people need dark literature. Would the first great cycle of horror films even have been made in the early thirties if not for the market crash of twenty-nine? People need to escape into a world where the forces of evil can be thwarted through courage and fortitude. It’s comforting. It’s inspiring. And it keeps us all from jumping off bridges. HFR: If you could collaborate with another author, who would it be? RD: Algernon Blackwood probably. Maybe Oliver Onions or Shirley Jackson. Oh, wait, you mean living writers? How limiting. Certainly, Greg Gifune would be my first choice. I mean, what’s the point of working with someone who isn’t a genius? Besides, it would be interesting to see if either of us survived the process. Collaborating is such a problematical situation. If you’re a real artist, you’re probably something of an egomaniac, at least with regards to your work. Plus we’re all crazy … and so intolerant of craziness in others … unless it’s colorful, amusing, charming, sexy craziness of course. Sadly, it so rarely is any of that. I mean, have you been to a con lately? It’s mostly just dull and self-absorbed and confused and … what was the question again? HFR: Any advice for new or struggling writers? RD: Not really. This is not a vocational issue. It’s about identity. Look. This is important. New writer? Pay attention. If you can do something else, go. Do it. But if writing is as necessary to you as breathing, then we can discuss survival strategies. Of course, none of this applies if we’re talking about the hordes of aspiring hacks. Those aren’t writers. Most of what they grind out resembles the literary equivalent of vaudeville. No, not even vaudeville. Burlesque. There’s no spiritual kinship to me there. Far from it. These are the people who have debased the genre I love. They’re the enemy. And they’re everywhere. But if you are a real writer, well … see what we’re up against? And it only gets worse. Struggling? No, I have no advice that will make it easier for you. All I can do is assure you that there are rewards in this life, rewards other people – normal people – can’t even imagine. Actually, now I think of it, I can offer one piece of actual advice. Shockingly simple. Read. That’s all. Read everything. Read like your life depends on it. Read Faulkner and Proust and Dostoyevsky and Steinbeck and Woolf. Don’t ever stop. I meet so many young writers who think they can create literature without ever having been exposed to any. Don’t be an idiot. Painters study the old masters for years before ever picking up a brush. They study composition and perspective and the use of color. Well, there’s a craft here too. Just because you can type words and hit the print button, doesn’t mean you’re writing. You need to study the old masters. And the new ones. Immerse yourself. Absorb the lessons. Then see what you want to give back to the world. (And if it’s something about a cow monster, make it a good book about a cow monster, in fact make it a great one, not something suggestive of incompetence or deficiency.) Mind you there’s a place for pulp. For good pulp. In the right mood, we all enjoy that sort of thing. But when did it become the only sort of writing allowed? I think of that as the rule of dumb. I mean, there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with all these horror-by-number efforts, with their vampires/zombies/cannibal plague victims forever attacking. But it’s not exactly the sort of work Henry James was creating, now is it? Whatever happened to elegant and profound explorations of the dark? When were these driven underground? And why? Who benefits? Think about it. Young writers have a choice. Learn your craft … or just waste the paper. Every other genre has experienced a form of literary renaissance – Science Fiction, Mystery, Fantasy. It’s only Horror that stays lumped with Romance at the bottom of the barrel. The genre can’t survive long like this. It needs to grow … not devolve into torture porn and paranormal erotica. This is a gauntlet thrown down. HFR: What can Robert Dunbar fans expect in the future? RD: Things are zooming along here. THE PINES is out from Leisure. And I’m working on a very exciting mass market paperback deal for MARTYRS & MONSTERS. If all goes smoothly, copies may be available as early as February. Then Leisure releases THE SHORE in July. Of course, I’m still tweaking WILLY. (Did I really just say that?) But it’s basically finished. Plus I’m in the middle of a nonfiction book, and I’ve started a new novel that … but I can’t even imagine not being involved with a dozen projects at once. Can you? It’s what writers do, after all. What did Joseph Campbell used to say? “Follow your bliss.” That’s everything. To learn more about Robert Dunbar’s work, visit his website at http://www.dunbarauthor.com/ (NOTE: This page published on 11/3/08) 