Author Interview – Nicole M. Wolverton

1. For readers discovering you for the first time, can you introduce yourself and tell us about your journey into becoming a horror writer?

I’m Nicole M. Wolverton, a fear enthusiast and author of two novels (A Misfortune of Lake Monsters, 2024, and The Trajectory of Dreams, 2013) and over 50 short stories, creative nonfiction, and essays. In addition to writing horror, I’m also a horror academic: I hold a masters in horror and storytelling, and I’m in the midst of a masters of philosophy with a gastrohorror concentration.

Sometimes people assume that academics led to writing fiction, but it’s really the opposite! I’ve been interested in horror literature and films since I was a little kid–but it wasn’t until I was in my mid-30s that pursuing publication popped up as something I wanted to do. I dabbled in more literary and thriller type of work at first, but the pull of horror is too strong! I still write outside the horror genre, but the most satisfying work is always that which scares me or makes me uncomfortable. Besides, that kind of work has real benefits for us psychologically and physiologically, so I tend to look at writing horror as therapeutic.

2. Your novel A Misfortune of Lake Monsters has such an intriguing title. What is the story about?

A Misfortune of Lake Monsters follows a young woman who is essentially trapped in her rural Pennsylvania hometown because her grandparents expect her to take over the family business of secretly impersonating the town lake monsters. Of course, she then discovers a very real and very hungry lake monster, and she must find a way to save the town before it kills everyone. It’s a quirky horrormance novel–one reader said it’s as though Hallmark make a horror film, which tickles me to no end!

My upcoming horror novel also has kind of an… evocative title: Meat Sweats. 

3. What inspired the concept behind the book?

The town in the book is loosely based on my hometown–half because I find my hometown a strange place, but half because the idea of a lake monster in a small lake was the thing I fantasized about as a kid. My childhood home’s kitchen has a sink with a window over it and a lake about a mile down the road that you can see from the window–and it was my chore to wash dishes. I loathed washing dishes (and still do), so I used to stare out at the lake, imagining the worst things I could think of. The idea of a hungry lake monster was a recurring theme.

4. Horror can take many forms. How would you describe the type of horror readers can expect from A Misfortune of Lake Monsters?

It’s definitely lighter horror–I like to describe it as a cozy horrormance with a comedic bent. I tend to enjoy films like Shaun of the Dead and Tucker and Dale Versus Evil–films that are definitely horror, but more tongue in cheek. A Misfortune of Lake Monsters definitely reflects that kind of ethos.

5. You’ve written both fiction and creative nonfiction and have work published in dozens of magazines and anthologies. How has that wide range of writing influenced your novels?

Curiosity drives every aspect of my writing, whether fiction or nonfiction. Inevitably, something I write in the creative nonfiction or academic sphere will find its way into my fiction writing–and sometimes vice versa. A very obvious example is my current academic focus of gastrohorror. I gave my first academic presentation a few weeks ago (about that moment in some horror films where a person is offered tea or some other polite beverage at home being visited), and I’m thinking about using some of the ideas from that presentation in a column I’ll be writing… and there’s a novel I’m outlining where those same concepts are likely to pop up. There’s something fun about understanding how all the mechanisms work through a scholarly lens!

6. You hold a master’s degree in horror and storytelling. What drew you to studying horror academically?

Like I said, I’ve always really loved horror–but it wasn’t until I was hospitalized with COVID-19 in the pre-vaccine days that the idea of looking at horror in a scholarly way occurred to me. I took being hospitalized at a time when people were routinely dying from COVID in stride–I was calm and making jokes (dark jokes, but still…), and after I left the hospital I read a study from the Recreational Fear Lab that demonstrated people who read/watch horror have higher levels of resilience than those who don’t (this was specific to the pandemic). A light bulb went off in my head. I had only just started a masters program at the time, so I ended up changing my thesis topic. It’s been interesting to look at different subjects through a horror lens. My brain is good at making connections, and it’s personally satisfying in a very different way than writing horror is satisfying.

7. You’ve spoken about horror as a resilience-builder and a tool for mental health. Can you explain that idea for readers who might not think of horror that way?

The idea is that when you experience horror (for fun) from a safe space, you are in a practice-makes-perfect situation: you’re training for fear. When you’re scared, your heart rate increases and your cortisol rates spike. Watching or reading horror conditions you, allowing you to manage your fear (and those physiological reactions) better when it happens to you for real. Interestingly, a 2024 study found that the fear in horror films impacts your short term memory–temporarily, at least, you… forget. (note: disgust in horror films doesn’t seem to have the same effect). My theory is that this is why horror becomes more popular when real life is scarier: it’s a way to block out the terror of war, terribly political leaders, climate change, etc.

Another study found that watching horror and thrillers that put us in the head of a killer with mental problems makes us more sympathetic to those with psychological issues. Horror has benefits for younger readers, specifically–often middle grade readers can identify with the monsters in the books they read, seeing their “otherness” in those types of characters. Horror is good for us in so many different ways.

8. What role do fear and discomfort play in helping readers process real-world emotions?

I’ve already mentioned that scholars argue that horror functions as a kind of emotional rehearsal space. Fear also enables catharsis (think: Aristotle), which allows readers to confront anxiety, grief, or dread from a place of safety. Another well-established concept is that of the uncanny (a Freud theory)—the idea of a destabilizing force that makes ordinary things feel strange and threatening. Both catharsis and the uncanny can push readers into a space of discomfort that can lead to ways to metabolize the feelings instead of avoiding them. 

9. You’re currently pursuing a master’s in gastrohorror, which is a fascinating concept. What exactly is gastrohorror?

I tend to think of it very broadly as food, horror, and disgust–that’s somewhat simplified, though. It can be anything in horror that’s related to the alimentary process: eating, digesting, etc. But it can also shine a light on who and when a person eats or doesn’t or things like parasites. There’s a contemporary pop culture writer who talks a lot about gastrohorror (her name is Sarah Stubbs), and she draws the line at vampires, zombies, and other supernatural entities that eat–but I tend to think they’re fair game when we’re looking at food, disgust, and horror. Then again, my vision of horror is wider than the average person: I believe the film Titanic should be included in the horror genre. 

10. How does food, the body, or consumption intersect with horror storytelling?

I think a more useful question is how it DOESN’T. Eating is such a universal experience. Almost every living thing has to eat to survive, and so of course the idea of consuming food intersects with horror storytelling–often in ways you don’t expect. For instance, think of the 1978 film Halloween. There’s almost NO eating in the film, yet gastrohorror plays a pretty important part. Laurie Strode has two friends that are killed by Michael Myers, right? Food maps the entire death sequence if you think of it from the point of view of an anthropologist who argued that cooking transforms nature into culture–the kitchen is where food becomes human life… but in Halloween that logic collapses because the kitchen becomes the corridor of death. Laurie’s friend Annie prepares food in the kitchen while she’s babysitting (and it’s where Michael Myers starts stalking her). Her friend Lynda and her boyfriend Bob show up to that same house–Bob enters the kitchen to get Lynda a beer and is killed there, and Lynda is killed by Michael-dressed-as-Bob after asking about the whereabouts of her beer. Laurie enters the house and escapes the house through that same kitchen. There’s more to it than that (ask me about the function of pumpkins sometime), but it is a huge amount of fun to map out these types of things in film and books and to use those same mapping techniques in my own writing.

11. Rural settings often appear in horror stories. What makes rural living such a compelling backdrop for horror?

When I was growing up in rural Pennsylvania, I was always told cities were scary. Too many people. Too many cars. Anything could happen. Since escaping my hometown to attend college, I’ve lived in urban and suburban areas for far longer than I lived in rural settings. I’m comforted by places with more people–because it’s really rural places that are isolated. Where anything can happen and no one would ever know. That’s the scariest thing I can imagine.

12. When you begin writing a horror story, do you start with a concept, a character, or a particular fear you want to explore?

There’s no one particular thing, although often enough it’s an idea–I’ll overhear a snippet of conversation in the wild, or I’ll be reading a bit of news, and it’ll strike me as a potentially good horror concept. I would make an exceptionally good flâneur because I tend to notice oddball things. 

13. What part of writing horror do you enjoy the most?

Outlining. I love to outline–coming up with ideas and characters and plotlines. Perfecting them. Reoutlining to refine. Researching what’s needed to get things right. It’s a process that can take months, but once I have everything exactly where it needs to be, I feel like I have a solid roadmap for writing. Granted, sometimes things take a left turn in the middle of writing, but that’s okay. I just reoutline. My brain prefers to know what’s next. It’s probably why I read the last couple of pages of a mystery novel first.

14. What part of the process tends to challenge you the most?

I loathe revising after a project is finished. I’m not talking about simple revisions, because we all do that. I’m talking about the type of edits that requires you to break the whole apart into tiny little pieces and try to fit it back into a whole. I read something recently that’s an apt analogy–the idea of shattering a vase and trying to glue it back together in a way that’s still water tight and that looks good. It never seems as good to me after the intervention. I’d rather get that kind of feedback in the outlining stage than after the fact. 

15. Your upcoming novel Meat Sweats releases in 2026. Can you share anything about that project?

The publication date for Meat Sweats has just been delayed, so I’m currently awaiting the publisher to give me a new launch date. I’m sad about it, but it happens all the time! What I can tell you is that it’s a darkly humorous young adult horror novel about a vegetarian-turned-accidental-cannibal. It’s also set in my rural Pennsylvania hometown, but the name of the town and the setting are somewhat different. What can I say–my hometown is the gift that keeps on giving for horror inspiration!

16. You also edited the anthology Bodies Full of Burning. What was that experience like?

It was five-ish years ago, yet it’s still one of my favorite projects–working with great writers is its own reward, but having the opportunity to build a narrative across a short stories to form a fantastic whole is something every writer should pursue at least once. It really taught me a lot about rejection. When you’re a writer submitting work for publication, every rejection can feel very personal, but after serving as an Editor for Bodies Full of Burning, I realize that it has very little to do with me. Sometimes you bought a story too similar to the one you received, sometimes a great story just doesn’t fit the largely whole, etc. There are a million reasons why a story can be rejected that have nothing to do with the quality. I carry that with me.

17. Editing and writing require different skill sets. How do those two creative roles differ for you?

There’s that saying–write drunk, edit sober. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you should literally get loaded and get crazy on your keyboard, but if the idea is that writing requires a freedom of thought that approaches creativity without judgment. Editing, on the other hand, is all judgment. It’s about knowing what’s right in terms of punctuation and construction, about story arcs and pacing. About what works in the bigger scheme of things. I have a terrible habit of editing while writing, which isn’t an ideal situation. 

18. You’ve successfully organized a multi-stop book tour without an agent. What did that experience teach you about advocating for yourself as an author?

I was a nonprofit fundraiser in the social services environment for decades, so I learned very quickly that if you don’t ask, you don’t get. And that attitude is what served me exceptionally well when I approach organizing book events. I’m published through small presses, and I’m not a super well known name in horror writing, yet since A Misfortune of Lake Monsters was published in July 2024 I’ve done dozens and dozens of events–book signings (alone and with other authors), readings, workshops, talks, and discussion panels. I was invited for a panel at IcelandNoir in Reykjavik, Iceland and did a panel at the American Library Association annual conference. I mean, the main thing is you can’t ever listen to that voice in your head that tells you that you’re a nobody, and no one will be interested in you as a writer. Ask, because you never know who will say yes–and a no only means not right now. Never be afraid.

19. What advice would you give to authors who want to pitch themselves for book events or tours?

No one wants to hear this, but research is your friend. About two years before your book comes out, start paying attention to what other writers in your genre are doing. Where they’re doing events, what kind of events they’re doing–keep lists. Find out when cons and festivals start taking applications and how those applications are received. Who the people are behind events and how people are invited. Don’t be afraid to reach out to strangers and ask questions. Make an effort to support your local bookstores. Be organized. Do your best to become involved with your local writing community and be generous. You’ll make great friends, which is important for all sorts of reasons, but you’ll also end up with a circle of folks that you know well enough to do events with. It takes effort, and it requires you to be authentic–it’s worth it.

20. What authors or horror works have influenced your writing the most?

What a question! Everything I read inspires me in one way or another, but the earliest writers (outside the horror genre) who I think about a lot are James Baldwin, John Irving, and Kurt Vonnegut. Inside the horror genre, I’d say Octavia Butler and Gretchen McNeil really figured heavily for me when I was starting to write young adult horror.

21. What do you hope readers take away from A Misfortune of Lake Monsters?

It’s really a story about how to make the most of a bad situation–about knowing how much of yourself you owe to others. It would make me deliriously happy to know that message comes through loud and clear.

22. What has been the most rewarding moment of your writing career so far?

Any time a reader expresses love for one of my books or engages with my academic writing, it’s insanely wonderful. There’s nothing better than that for a writer. An unexpected reward, though, is being invited to participate in projects. It’s those unexpected things that fall into my lap that just… it’s so touching, and I’m always so incredibly appreciative.

23. What are you most excited about in the future of your work in horror?

I’m excited to see Meat Sweats come out, of course, but I also have a horror novella coming out this Halloween that will be packaged with an oracle card deck set. It’s such a fun project–the people I’m working with are genuinely kind, good people, and the artwork will be gorgeous. I’m also working on more of an academic project that I’m really excited about. 

24. What advice would you give to writers who want to explore horror in new or unconventional ways?

There’s no right way to be a horror writer, and there’s no right way to publish. Whether you’re pursuing a Big 5 type of thing, a small press, or self-publishing, never be afraid. There’s an audience for everything. The only limit is your imagination in terms of finding a way to do what you want.

25. Where can readers connect with you and follow your work?

I’m always bumbling around on my website at nicolewolverton.com–where you can sign up for my monthly newsletter, which I recommend because it’s where I’m probably at my most random and weird. Ha! But I’m also at Instagram, Bluesky, and Tiktok. 

 

---

 

Rapid Fire Fun 🔥

26. Coffee or tea while writing? Tea (no sugar, no lemon, no milk)
27. Morning writer or night writer? Morning (my brain works better)
28. Favorite horror movie or book? Atterados for favorite horror movie, Monstrilio byGerardo Sámano Córdova for my favorite horror book
29. Paperback, ebook, or audiobook? Paperback, although I’m doing my best to evolve into an audiobook reader
30. Favorite place to write? In my greenhouse on a chilly day. It’s cozy.
31. One word to describe A Misfortune of Lake Monsters? Sweet
32. Favorite writing snack? Cheese (really expensive, fancy cheese)
33. Music while writing or silence? Silence
34. A horror trope you love? I love the idea of the final girl, but I also love smashing that particular classical trope
35. One thing readers might be surprised to learn about you? I was a cheerleader for about nine years, junior high through half of undergrad. I don’t come off as a typical cheerleader.