If you are interested in literary horror and dark fiction, check out Robert's excellent Goodreads group devoted to that topic: Literary Darkness.
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THE PINES

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THE SHORE

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AN INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT DUNBAR
mm: What inspired you to write about The Jersey Devil?
RD: We dated in high school.
mm: Nature and elemental forces are important parts of THE PINES and THE SHORE, often as sources of destruction and transformation. Can you talk a little bit about that?
RD: Very astute. Destruction and transformation, yes. What could be more primal? Throughout THE PINES, the forest is described as this “ocean of darkness,” just as the actual sea – rather than a metaphorical one – is a tremendous presence in THE SHORE. And, of course, both novels employ other elemental forces: storms, sex, fire, flood. I’m working on the final part of the trilogy now, but THE STREETS takes place in an urban environment… in many ways a far darker landscape. And the ultimate cataclysm pours straight out of the souls of the characters.
mm: What books or authors have inspired you as a writer?
RD: You realize I’m not going to say Lovecraft or King, right? (Please be nodding.) I’m more of a Blackwood, Aickman, Elizabeth Bowen kind of guy. But there are so many authors I revere. Can other writers really answer this question blithely? Okay, deep breath. Here goes. Henry Roth and William Faulkner, James Purdy and Virginia Woolf, Proust and Genet and – dear gods – Samuel R. Delany. Plus Conrad and Baldwin and Maugham and Greene, Mishima and Pessoa, Fitzgerald (Penelope, not F. Scott), Camus and Kafka, and, yes, it can all turn pretty dark. William Burroughs and Dennis Cooper and Donna Tartt and…
Just tell me when you want me to stop or we could be here a while.
mm: Any new or recently completed projects?
RD: I’m having great fun with a new anthology I’m putting together for Uninvited Books called DARK FOREST. It’s a mixture of old and new tales about dangerous terrain – the sort of sylvan glens where the trees devour people – annotated by modern masters like Ramsey Campbell, Greg Gifune, Ronald Malfi and Gary Braunbeck. Also, VORTEX should be out this spring: my nonfiction book about the folkloric (and historic) influences that inspired the classics of the horror genre.
Here’s an excerpt from the introduction to VORTEX:
No one dreamed them up.
No one needed to.
The vampire clawing at the window, the werewolf prowling the moor, the hags at the crossroads – they lurked here already.
Some nightmares are ancient, as old as civilization.
Some are older still.
Perhaps some anomaly in the very hardwiring of the human mind gives rise to these shades. But there are other theories, even darker, more modern. Could race memory, lingering below the conscious level, account for fears of monsters, of things that leap and crawl from the shadows?
They say a basis in fact underlies most legends. They say it all the time, all those Wise Elders in all those old horror films. The high priests, the scientists, the gypsy fortune tellers, on this single issue they agree unanimously. More to the point (certainly to the point of this book) deep currents of tradition and superstition swirl through most classic works of horror fiction.
They spring from deep within us, these nightmares, these folktales. They speak of our deepest needs, the ones we have all been taught since childhood never to put into words, because dreams reveal our other face, the one we keep hidden, the Hyde to mankind’s collective Jekyll.
Our most primitive ancestors never died, the ones who killed with rocks and clubs and clawing hands. No, they remain within us still. And when we sleep, they speak.