Interview with R.A. Brewster
Published 2021-04-15.
Asking yourself questions and then answering them is the first sign of insanity, some say. Would you consider yourself insane?
That is an excellent question if I do say so myself. Ray Bradbury summed up how I feel about my own sanity best when he said, "Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage." I've been in a few cages, some nicer than others. I guess if you are on the outside looking in, then yeah sane isn't really on the table anymore.
If you had to pick three writers that influenced you the most, who would they be?
Oh, that is a tough one. I would have to say, Clive Barker is one. There was nothing off the table for him. In Books of Blood he let his talent run wild and free. There was a beauty to the ugly in his descriptions. Sexual and monstrous and alluring, most of the time all three at once. His "The Age of Desire" really struck me, as did "The Hellbound Heart." Barker showed me to not censor myself for what others would think but to be true to the story I was telling.
Next up, and I'm going to cheat just a bit with a combo, is H.P.Lovecraft and Steven King. Lovecraft's world and mythos not only created cosmic horror but infected writers that came after him like a memetic virus. While stories of his like "Re-Animator" and "The Music Of Erich Zann" are some of my favorites to this day, King's take on cosmic horror really sunk its teeth into me. From the outer dark nightmare that was Pennywise, to the twisted Crimson King, otherworldly horror is not in short supply in his work and I love every page of it. His ability to show the struggles of mortals against these things, to make us care for them and weep at sacrifices they make against the incredible odds stacked against them, is second to none. I can only hope to give as much life to my characters as King does to his.
Last but not least would be Richard Laymon. I really jive with his blend of sex and violence, his books are always a roller-coaster. Splatterpunk with sleaze and under all the blood and fluids, a heart. I still remember how his "The Traveling Vampire Show" kept me glued to the pages. Not for the horror of it but to see if the broken, yet sharp Slim would realize our protagonist's growing love for her. Was there sex and blood and vampires and awful things alluded to, sure was. But that relationship is what kept me reading to the last word.
That was incredibly long, anything else you want the world to know?
There is an idea of an R.A.Brewster. Some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me. Only an entity. Something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there.
Now if you excuse me, I have to return some videotapes.
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