Clique: a small group of people who spend their time together and do not allow others to join them.
Fallacy: mistaken belief, especially one based on unsound arguments.
Definitions taken from the Oxford English Dictionary.
Writing in largely fringe and underground genres, such as what the literary horror market has become within the last decade or so, means that you will come across the same people time and again. The same faces and names will appear in reviews, at conventions or popping up on podcasts and social media groups.
This shared interest brings people together and a community is formed. As you see the same faces, you watch them interact and as you interact with them friendships are created. It really is one of the most beautiful aspects I have reveled in since releasing my first book all the way back in September 2014. Other writers, reviewers, bloggers, readers, editors and publishers have all become good friends of mine over the last five years. And these friendships have led to things beyond unleashing nightmares onto the printed page. With these friends I’ve beaten escape rooms, watched an opera, made films, been to gigs, visited haunted houses, danced until the sun came up and laughed so damn hard that I fell to my knees and tears streamed down my face.
They say as you get older, your circle of friends decreases as they become preoccupied with careers and families. And that may have been true had I not decided to become a horror writer. Now I have more friends than I ever had, and they span across the globe.
That sounds all lovely doesn’t it? But for every moment of light, there is darkness; a darkness that threatened to stop me forming these friendships; to colour my perception of people and leave me alone and mistrusting of everyone. And worst of all to leave me seething with jealousy and self-loathing.
You see when I first appeared in the writing community it was already a party that had been going on for many, many years before I had arrived. People had friends and close connections. There were in-jokes and history. And I felt like a complete outsider.
I watched people talk on social media about books and films that I loved, and so desperately wanted to be part of their conversations, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to fit in. The problems became even more magnified when I started attending conventions. All these people sat together laughing and joking. I couldn’t work out how to strike up a conversation. I’d never been good in large groups of people, and despite what people may think of me, I am hugely shy and massively socially awkward. These problems are things I have to deal with on a day to day basis, but when I’m confronted with a whole convention full of new people, new people that I really want to meet and I really want to get on with, these problems appear to magnify.
I couldn’t see anyway in.
All I could see were impenetrable groups.
Cliques that did not want me around.
This fear turned to self-loathing; a feeling that I wasn’t good enough. My writing wasn’t good enough. My conversation wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t clever enough. Not widely read enough.
That self-loathing turned into hatred and jealousy. Why can’t I be good enough? Why do they think they are so special? How dare they sit there laughing in a big circle jerk. W*nkers!
Sound familiar?
Ever thought like this?
I’d started casting anger onto people I’d hardly ever, or even never, interacted with. And I started turning that anger internally onto me. They are worthless becomes I am worthless. I am a reject.
Over the years I have beaten this darkness back with understanding and courage. And although it still likes to nibble at my toes like a weening puppy of the black dog, I am able to shoo it away. And if you have ever felt like this, hell if you feel like this right now, then hopefully I can help you to diminish this mode of thinking.
The first thing is the biggest secret of them all around this subject. And it’s one your brain is not going to like. In fact it’s going to reject it the moment you read it.
Ready?
Okay…
Cliques don’t exist.
There.
You’ve just read that and your mind has said ‘b*llocks, of course they do. I’ve seen them’.
Well they don’t. And in a slow and meandering way I’m going to tell you why.
In order to do this I’m going to explain how I coped with this fear of other people; how I learned to speak to them; and how, in the end, I come to understand cliques didn’t exist.
Let’s start with context…
We’re talking about the horror writing community, here.
This community is largely made of writers, readers, reviewers, publishers & editors.
The one thing they all have in common is that they all love the written word. They all like to read and write. To spend large amounts of time by themselves getting lost amongst the images in their heads; hallucinations of imagination brought about by text. These types of people are not automatically social animals. I’m not saying they are all reclusive, but most of these people will have some kind of introverted tendency or social awkwardness about them.
This is the one thing I like to keep in mind from the off.
This is what I call The Great Leveller.
With this in mind, I found it much easier to put people on the same level as me; to empathise with them and consider that maybe they are feeling similar levels of anxiety and awkwardness. This was the first step, and believe me this is probably the hardest.
The light bulb moment clicked when somebody posted on social media before a Fantasy Con convention saying ‘A lot of people know me, but I get nervous at these things, so please just come up and say hi’. I then watched as more and more of these well-respected and well-known people in the community commented on the post, echoing a similar sentiment.
So it wasn’t just me, then? Not just the newbie feeling out of place, but people that were established members of the community. Have you ever wondered why name badges are given out at a lot of the conventions? It eases the worry of trying to remember someone’s name or trying to marry up their online social media pictures with the real face in front of you. It alleviates some pressure from all these people, already feeling a little flighty about meeting face to face.
With this understanding; with The Great Leveller in my mind, I tentatively began to approach conversations; both face to face at conventions and online. And the wonderful thing was: these people spoke back. They replied with a warmth and friendliness. They replied like they were happy to chat; to find out about who I was as well as share about themselves.
As a little aside for writers here: don’t immediately start talking about your own books. No one is going to respond well to that. Approach people on common ground. Talk about books and films you’ve loved (you’ll both be horror fans), talk about their work (although some people get uncomfortable about this, they will also be appreciative hearing some genuine praise of their work), talk about whatever, just don’t come across as a salesman as you’ll get people’s backs up.
The more I chatted to people, the more common ground I found and the stronger those bonds grew. It gave me a confidence, and as I attended more conventions and expanded my social media presence, I felt more comfortable talking with people I hadn’t met before. The cliques that I thought existed, melted away; there weren’t groups of people with walls around them, there was just people. People like me. Nervous, friendly, eager to make friends.
The nervousness and social awkwardness are things I still battle with, and at times they do stop me striking up a conversation with people when I want to. But with a little courage and a reminder of all the times in the past when it worked out fine, I am eventually able to overcome it.
Or sometimes the person will speak to me first and make that shyness melt away.
Always remembering the way I first felt, I try to make myself as approachable and welcoming as I can be. There have been numerous times where I have met someone fairly new to the community and have made sure they have been introduced to people and have encouraged them to attend events if they can and get involved in projects. I know I am not the only one, and even now after 5 years I am still being introduced to people by fellow members of the community.
The whole subject came full circle when last year I made friends with people and they admitted that they were initially intimidated to meet me. They said they’d always see me at conventions, talking to people in little cliques. I laughed at the thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. At a convention I am more than happy to speak to anyone that approaches me. I may not always be the first to say hello, but that’s because I may be battling the shyness and worry that I’m not good enough to strike up a conversation. But I will always be welcoming to anyone that says hello.
And that’s when the penny truly dropped.
I’d seen these cliques of people when I first joined the community, just as people had seen me in cliques when they first joined.
That’s when I realised that the cliques I’d originally seen were nothing more than a product of my own perception.
They weren’t excluding people.
It was just a combination of mine and their shyness.
The cliques did not exist.
Through the horror community I have made some truly great friends, none of which would have happened if I’d continued to be resentful and fearful of these imagined cliques and their members. And I hope that by presenting my experiences and the things I have learned from them, it can help other people that might feel the same way take a short cut to the same conclusions.
This shared interest brings people together and a community is formed. As you see the same faces, you watch them interact and as you interact with them friendships are created. It really is one of the most beautiful aspects I have reveled in since releasing my first book all the way back in September 2014. Other writers, reviewers, bloggers, readers, editors and publishers have all become good friends of mine over the last five years. And these friendships have led to things beyond unleashing nightmares onto the printed page. With these friends I’ve beaten escape rooms, watched an opera, made films, been to gigs, visited haunted houses, danced until the sun came up and laughed so damn hard that I fell to my knees and tears streamed down my face.
They say as you get older, your circle of friends decreases as they become preoccupied with careers and families. And that may have been true had I not decided to become a horror writer. Now I have more friends than I ever had, and they span across the globe.
That sounds all lovely doesn’t it? But for every moment of light, there is darkness; a darkness that threatened to stop me forming these friendships; to colour my perception of people and leave me alone and mistrusting of everyone. And worst of all to leave me seething with jealousy and self-loathing.
You see when I first appeared in the writing community it was already a party that had been going on for many, many years before I had arrived. People had friends and close connections. There were in-jokes and history. And I felt like a complete outsider.
I watched people talk on social media about books and films that I loved, and so desperately wanted to be part of their conversations, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to fit in. The problems became even more magnified when I started attending conventions. All these people sat together laughing and joking. I couldn’t work out how to strike up a conversation. I’d never been good in large groups of people, and despite what people may think of me, I am hugely shy and massively socially awkward. These problems are things I have to deal with on a day to day basis, but when I’m confronted with a whole convention full of new people, new people that I really want to meet and I really want to get on with, these problems appear to magnify.
I couldn’t see anyway in.
All I could see were impenetrable groups.
Cliques that did not want me around.
This fear turned to self-loathing; a feeling that I wasn’t good enough. My writing wasn’t good enough. My conversation wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t clever enough. Not widely read enough.
That self-loathing turned into hatred and jealousy. Why can’t I be good enough? Why do they think they are so special? How dare they sit there laughing in a big circle jerk. W*nkers!
Sound familiar?
Ever thought like this?
I’d started casting anger onto people I’d hardly ever, or even never, interacted with. And I started turning that anger internally onto me. They are worthless becomes I am worthless. I am a reject.
Over the years I have beaten this darkness back with understanding and courage. And although it still likes to nibble at my toes like a weening puppy of the black dog, I am able to shoo it away. And if you have ever felt like this, hell if you feel like this right now, then hopefully I can help you to diminish this mode of thinking.
The first thing is the biggest secret of them all around this subject. And it’s one your brain is not going to like. In fact it’s going to reject it the moment you read it.
Ready?
Okay…
Cliques don’t exist.
There.
You’ve just read that and your mind has said ‘b*llocks, of course they do. I’ve seen them’.
Well they don’t. And in a slow and meandering way I’m going to tell you why.
In order to do this I’m going to explain how I coped with this fear of other people; how I learned to speak to them; and how, in the end, I come to understand cliques didn’t exist.
Let’s start with context…
We’re talking about the horror writing community, here.
This community is largely made of writers, readers, reviewers, publishers & editors.
The one thing they all have in common is that they all love the written word. They all like to read and write. To spend large amounts of time by themselves getting lost amongst the images in their heads; hallucinations of imagination brought about by text. These types of people are not automatically social animals. I’m not saying they are all reclusive, but most of these people will have some kind of introverted tendency or social awkwardness about them.
This is the one thing I like to keep in mind from the off.
This is what I call The Great Leveller.
With this in mind, I found it much easier to put people on the same level as me; to empathise with them and consider that maybe they are feeling similar levels of anxiety and awkwardness. This was the first step, and believe me this is probably the hardest.
The light bulb moment clicked when somebody posted on social media before a Fantasy Con convention saying ‘A lot of people know me, but I get nervous at these things, so please just come up and say hi’. I then watched as more and more of these well-respected and well-known people in the community commented on the post, echoing a similar sentiment.
So it wasn’t just me, then? Not just the newbie feeling out of place, but people that were established members of the community. Have you ever wondered why name badges are given out at a lot of the conventions? It eases the worry of trying to remember someone’s name or trying to marry up their online social media pictures with the real face in front of you. It alleviates some pressure from all these people, already feeling a little flighty about meeting face to face.
With this understanding; with The Great Leveller in my mind, I tentatively began to approach conversations; both face to face at conventions and online. And the wonderful thing was: these people spoke back. They replied with a warmth and friendliness. They replied like they were happy to chat; to find out about who I was as well as share about themselves.
As a little aside for writers here: don’t immediately start talking about your own books. No one is going to respond well to that. Approach people on common ground. Talk about books and films you’ve loved (you’ll both be horror fans), talk about their work (although some people get uncomfortable about this, they will also be appreciative hearing some genuine praise of their work), talk about whatever, just don’t come across as a salesman as you’ll get people’s backs up.
The more I chatted to people, the more common ground I found and the stronger those bonds grew. It gave me a confidence, and as I attended more conventions and expanded my social media presence, I felt more comfortable talking with people I hadn’t met before. The cliques that I thought existed, melted away; there weren’t groups of people with walls around them, there was just people. People like me. Nervous, friendly, eager to make friends.
The nervousness and social awkwardness are things I still battle with, and at times they do stop me striking up a conversation with people when I want to. But with a little courage and a reminder of all the times in the past when it worked out fine, I am eventually able to overcome it.
Or sometimes the person will speak to me first and make that shyness melt away.
Always remembering the way I first felt, I try to make myself as approachable and welcoming as I can be. There have been numerous times where I have met someone fairly new to the community and have made sure they have been introduced to people and have encouraged them to attend events if they can and get involved in projects. I know I am not the only one, and even now after 5 years I am still being introduced to people by fellow members of the community.
The whole subject came full circle when last year I made friends with people and they admitted that they were initially intimidated to meet me. They said they’d always see me at conventions, talking to people in little cliques. I laughed at the thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. At a convention I am more than happy to speak to anyone that approaches me. I may not always be the first to say hello, but that’s because I may be battling the shyness and worry that I’m not good enough to strike up a conversation. But I will always be welcoming to anyone that says hello.
And that’s when the penny truly dropped.
I’d seen these cliques of people when I first joined the community, just as people had seen me in cliques when they first joined.
That’s when I realised that the cliques I’d originally seen were nothing more than a product of my own perception.
They weren’t excluding people.
It was just a combination of mine and their shyness.
The cliques did not exist.
Through the horror community I have made some truly great friends, none of which would have happened if I’d continued to be resentful and fearful of these imagined cliques and their members. And I hope that by presenting my experiences and the things I have learned from them, it can help other people that might feel the same way take a short cut to the same conclusions.
about j.r. park
Justin Park cut his literary teeth as the horror writer J. R. Park, releasing his first book, Terror Byte, in 2014. Since then he helped form the Sinister Horror Company, a publishing imprint he still runs.
Sinister Horror Company quickly became recognised for its varied styles across the horror spectrum and the top quality of its output, making it one of the most highly respected independent horror presses.
Justin's writing is critically regarded, and noted for his versatility, experimentation, tightly structured plotting and lyrical prose.
Teaming up with the UK's leading extreme horror author, Matt Shaw, Justin began working on feature films.
Sinister Horror Company quickly became recognised for its varied styles across the horror spectrum and the top quality of its output, making it one of the most highly respected independent horror presses.
Justin's writing is critically regarded, and noted for his versatility, experimentation, tightly structured plotting and lyrical prose.
Teaming up with the UK's leading extreme horror author, Matt Shaw, Justin began working on feature films.
Death Dreams In The Dark
“There’s a whole underground ‘Candyman’ (1992) style vibe whispered throughout the story. Something that taunts you. Plays with your senses and sets your imagination loose to explore darkened passages you may not wish to travel down,” writes DLS Reviews on the short story The Ugly, just one of nine tales from Death Dreams In The Dark: a collection of haunting stories that seep from the darkness of J. R. Park’s imagination.
The third in the Death Dream series, this volume explores the horrors that lurk after hours; the nightmares made real; the awful truth of the things that go bump (and hack, slash, cackle and sigh) in the night.
This collection includes the stories Nunight, Halloween Night, The Darkling, Late Night Caller, Mary, Do What Thou Wilt, The Ugly, Diamond In The Rough and The Last Horror Story.
The third in the Death Dream series, this volume explores the horrors that lurk after hours; the nightmares made real; the awful truth of the things that go bump (and hack, slash, cackle and sigh) in the night.
This collection includes the stories Nunight, Halloween Night, The Darkling, Late Night Caller, Mary, Do What Thou Wilt, The Ugly, Diamond In The Rough and The Last Horror Story.
