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Showing posts from February, 2015

Tell Me I Can't

Part 4 of 4 Women in Horror Month: Tell Me I Can’t   By Stephanie M. Wytovich My entire life—up until recently—has been about people telling me that I can’t do something. I can’t go to graduate school because I’m throwing my money away. I can’t be a writer because I should be having their babies and thinking about marriage. I shouldn’t be writing horror because I would be more attractive if I wasn’t killing people for a living. I can’t live on my own because I won’t be able to survive… Damn! Talk about a lot of pressure on my vagina and who’s controlling it… Needless to say, most—if not all—of those people have ‘ex’ attached to them now, whether they were friend, boyfriend, lover, etc. and oh my God did I just say lover? Christ, maybe I am a whore? Ladies don’t like sex! But hey, maybe I’m not the world’s definition of a lady then? After all, ladies don’t curse and drink whiskey and speak their mind, and ask for equal pay. They don’t stand up for their beliefs,

Take the Whore out of Horror

Part 3 of 4: Women in Horror Month: Take the ‘Whore’ out of ‘Horror’ By Stephanie M. Wytovich My rock n’ roll self was at a jazz concert the other night. I traded in my whiskey for a glass of Merlot and I sat there in my work clothes—I had a late night counseling and planning for residency—humming along to the soft, soothing voice of the bass as Imagine by The Beatles stroked the air. I was chatting with some people, making friends, networking in the city, and [insert random unnamed person here] asked me what I did for a living. As per usual, I told him/her that I’m a writer, all the while wincing at the inevitable response that I knew I would get in return. Here’s the conversation, word for word—and it’s one of those conversations where if I had a nickel for every time I had it, well, let’s just say I could be in a flat in New Orleans writing for the summer.   Stranger: “Writer, huh. So what do you write?” Me: “I write speculative fiction.” Stranger: “What does t

I Am Not a Victim

Part 2 of 4 Women in Horror Month: I Am Not a Victim By Stephanie M. Wytovich “ My nails are broken, my fingers are bleeding, my arms are covered with the welts left by the paws of your guards—but I am a queen!”- Antigone, Sophocles I’m currently private tutoring Greek Drama— Antigone , in particular—and one of the issues that we’ve been talking about is how the play is structured around the notion that women are weak and therefore should not be looked at as a threat, not to man, and not to government. Interesting concept considering Antigone essentially throws up the middle finger and does what she believes is right, even if it means handing herself a conscious death sentence. Antigone’s character—in particular—inspired me for this week’s portrait, “I Am Not a Victim.” I think so often in horror that we’re used to seeing the woman portrayed as the damsel in distress, and slasher movies hold a lot of responsibility for that. According to them, the female role is to hav

This is Not a Female Horror Writer

Part 1 of 4:   Women in Horror Month: This is Not a Female Horror Writer   By Stephanie M. Wytovich     “If one looks at a thing with the intention of trying to discover what it means, one ends up no longer seeing the thing itself, but thinking of the question that has been raised. The mind sees in two different senses: (1) sees, as with the eyes; and (2) sees a question (no eyes).”- Rene Magritte Belgian surrealist painter, Rene Magritte is known in the art world for the contradictory and highly philosophical pieces he started creating in the mid to late 1920s after moving to Paris and teaming up with Andre Breton, a major mover and proponent in the surrealist circles. After Breton turned his focus away from Dadaism, and Magritte abandoned his impressionistic style, Surrealism, a movement focusing on meta-messaging, subconscious thought, and paralanguage was not only born, but celebrated…and challenged. Now some of you may be familiar with the series The Treachery of