Page 47 - Novelist Post – J.D. Barker and more

PHOTO: Michael Bailey, award-winning author, editor, and creative force behind works like Silent Nightmares and Madness and Writers, photographed in his creative space. Photo by Julie Stipes
and to understand the difficult lesson that sometimes what you don’t say is more powerful than what you do. If a picture is worth a thousand words, what does that say about film, about pictures that move?
Do you have a preferred genre to write in, or do you enjoy moving across genres?
I love friction between genres. My roots are in speculative fiction and horror, but I often drift into literary, sci-fi, absurdism, poetry, even creative nonfiction and memoir. Genre is a label, not a box, and one can easily
peel off a label and create comfortably without one. I’m drawn more to questions than categories, and to character more so than plot. What does
it mean to be human? How do we carry pain? What does survival look like when the rules collapse? Sometimes those questions wear the mask of horror; other times, they emerge through surrealism or satire or whatever the story requires. Shifting is part of the exploration. The unknown lives in the margins between genres.
What role does visual art play in the creation of your anthologies, like in You, Human?
Visual art is often the spark that ignites theme. In You, Human, the artwork wasn’t decorative—it was narrative. The images informed the sto- ries, and the stories reflected the images. There’s a kind of resonance that happens when you let mediums overlap. Art can frame a reader’s emotional entry point before a single word is ever read. It’s a form of storytelling that bypasses yet stimulates the rational mind. Collaborating with visual artists reminds us that language is not made from words alone.
Which of your awards or nominations has meant the most to you, and why?
Being nominated numerous times for the Shirley Jackson Award is mea- ningful—an award that values ambition and risk. I call those I have collec- ted so far my rock garden, and think of Charlie Brown mumbling, “I got a rock” whenever they send me one. The Benjamin Franklin Award and other independent accolades also stand out because they are jury-based, focused on merit rather than popularity. The Bram Stoker Award is nice, but the or- ganization that hands out those haunted house statues can be cliquey, which is only ever fun for the clique. But awards are physical. What matters more is when a writer or reader simply tells you they feel seen, or moved, or unsettled in a way that lingers.
What advice would you offer to authors seeking to balance creativity with the demands of publishing?
Protect your creative space like it’s sacred. Publishing will tug at you to conform, to hurry, to produce for trends. Resist that at all costs. Write the story that scares you or confuses you or makes you feel alive. That’s your compass: you. But also treat writing as a calling, not just a craft. And don’t write because you want to; write because you need to. Learn the business, but don’t let it steal your voice. Balance means understanding when to compromise and when to dig in. Lastly, be a writer, not an author. “Author” is just a temporary label you wear after writing something, which peels. A writer continues writing.
Editing is a constant exercise in
humility.
– Michael Bailey
NOVeLIST POST II 47
D