GHOSTBOX: 1

I’ve been absent! I am no longer absent. My aim, though, is shifting slightly (as it often does).

Since I last visited The Black Hole, several exciting things have happened, thus diverting my attention from the re-visitation of my sixth grade novel, Death in the Making, and subsequent analysis. Several plays are in the works and several commissions have been commissioned. And it’s one of the latter that brings The Black Hole back to life. That project? GHOSTBOX, commissioned by my good friends at Chicago’s InFusion Theatre. For the next several months, this blog will be a place for me to discuss the play, the rehearsal process, and the production itself (which opens October 1 and runs through Halloween). Rest assured, my musings on Death in the Making will eventually resume, especially since it will be presented at this fall’s MORTIFIED Chicago (which I am INSANELY excited about), but for now, it’s all about the ghosts.

So. GHOSTBOX.

It’s a horror play.

My first horror play, which is funny since I cut my teeth on horror.

Take a look at Death in the Making, an adolescent homage to Jurassic Park, rife with blood,  guts, all manner of teeth-gnashing.

Or my second novel, 1996’s Interview With a Vampire rip-off, Period 17, where some cop named Samson got a hole punched through his face.

Hell, my fourth grade teacher went so far as to tell my mother I needed therapy after reading my treatise on Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors.

But I didn’t really watch Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors.

I listened. With clenched fists pressed against my eyes.

I shook, trembling at the sound of what I knew was slashing and disembowelment.

I begged my friends to tell me, down to the most minute detail, just what had happened, just how they were murdered. Before I EVER looked at the screen I made them promise me there was no blood, no mangled bodies (which led to lots of clever ruses which I did NOT appreciate). I wanted everything about the gore except the visual.

Now I love blood, gore, evisceration. I’ve seen every Saw film thus far. I thought Hostel and its sequel were f**king bomb.Violence doesn’t scare me anymore.

So what’s scary?

I asked Dream Theatre artistic director Jeremy Menekseoglu the key to writing horror (as he has written some sweet horror scripts), and he told me to write about what scares me, not what I think scares other people.

I want GHOSTBOX to be scary.

So…what scares me?

We’ll get there.

In the meantime, let me just say it’s good to be back in The Black Hole.

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