Every generation has a symbol that defines horror. Someone who represents our demographic. Someone we find we can relate to in some way. Someone with adoring fans all across the map. Someone that just leaves an imprint on the genre.
That someone in the new generation of horror is Shawn C. Phillips. I began watching him on youtube ever since I stumbled upon his channel a few years back. I was impressed by his movie knowledge and by how genuine he comes off on video; the camera does not lie! And don’t forget to LIKE his Facebook fan page!
You can also check out his youtube channel, where you can also find his other links, such as his IMDB page and Twitter:
Without further delay, here is my interview with SHAWN C. PHILLIPS!
JC: What drew you in to horror?
SCP: Have always loved horror films. Not sure what it was about them but ever since I can remember when I used to go rent videos and buy movies I would always go right to the horror section. Just have so much fun watching horror.
JC: I love your “Collection” and “Review” videos on youtube. I’m particularly fond of your 80’s horror movies since that’s what I grew up with. What’s the best decade for horror in your expert opinion?
SCP: I love 70s and 80’s horror. Hard to pick but I think I own more 80s horror. I think when it comes to my horror section of movies just about half are 70s and 80s horror.
JC: For me, the “crabwalk” in The Exorcist defines horror, even though I believe it was deleted from the original. And I gotta say the sleeping bag scene in one of the Friday the 13th movies was one of my favourites as well. What are some scenes that come to your mind when you think of classic horror at its finest?
SCP: I would say the ending to Sleep Away Camp is a horror moment I dont think I can ever forget. Same goes for the Tar man zombie for Return of the Living Dead, which is one of my all time favorite horror films.
JC: Some movies are just *bad*, but you know those movies that are so bad they’re good? What would you say falls into this category?
SCP: I find myself liking alot of films that most people dont. There are so many. One I always think of which I know has a following is Troll 2.
JC: Out of all the movie monsters, which one would be your absolute favourite?
SCP: That is a tough one. Really is hard to pick.
JC: If you could be any character in any movie remake, who…or what…would you be?
SCP: I always love to be the victim in horror films. It would be awesome to be killed by a character like Jason or Chucky in a horror remake.
JC: I’m sure that since you see the behind-the-scenes magic during your performances that very few roles would scare you, but as a viewer I always wonder how the actors are able to sleep at night! Are there any existing movies that you would have declined a part in because it would’ve been too disturbing?
SCP: Well on some films if you have a very crazy death scene and are screaming all day, it can be tough to sleep at night. I also try and make myself feel as upset and terrible as possible during a death scene so sometimes that can follow you a bit that night.
JC: What do you love most about acting?
SCP: It is such a fun time and getting to work on the kinda films that I watch is such a blast. I feel like with each movie I’m learning more and growing. I will admit looking back on some of my early films I really feel like I have learned a lot since then.
JC: Aside from acting, do you plan to write or direct in the future?
SCP: I have made a few shorts in the past. Some are in the Treasure Chest of Horror series. Part 1 of that series is on dvd now and part 2 and 3 are on the way.
But I will admit, I don’t love directing. Don’t have as much fun with it.
JC: What are some of the things you enjoy in your spare time?
SCP: Watching movies, Going dvd shopping, Going to the movies. As you can see I do love movies. Lol
JC: Do you have any plans for Halloween?
SCP: No major plans. I do plan to go to Son of Monsterpalooza which is a fun horror con in Burbank.
JC: As most of my friends can tell you, I’m really into zombies. Maybe to an annoyingly obsessive degree. Since you’re actually in horror movies, do you think you would be more prepared for an outbreak than the average person? What weapons and tactics would you use to survive a Zombie Apocalypse?
SCP: Sometimes for fun I think of places to hide if a zombie outbreak happened but I think if it somehow did happen I would be in trouble.
JC: Is there anything you would like your fans to know about you?
SCP: I would say that I owe it to them for helping me to find what I love doing.
I would like to thank Shawn C. Phillips for taking the time to do this interview.
Greetings, Horror Fans!
P. A. Douglas has a brand-spankin’-new book out called The Darkman. Available in print and on Kindle. Click here to get your copy:
You can also check out his website: http://www.indie-inside.com
The horror genre has become richer with the addition of Douglas’ books. P. A. Douglas is the author of Watchers, Rancid, and several other Must-Reads as well as his latest book, The Darkman! It’s sure to be a hit with P. A. Douglas fans, as well as lovers of the horror genre.
There is something to be said of a writer that can make you feel pity, fear, hate, love, and anything in between toward his characters, and make you experience the action from a storytelling P.O.V. as if it had actually happened. As if it actually could happen. That’s what makes this author stand out the rest. And that’s why I’m really excited about P. A.’s online book tour to promote The Darkman! Seven days only, don’t miss it!
(Link will be available as an archive after October 8th, 2012, but until then, don’t miss out on what’s to come! Join, participate, and be part of the action!)
Wanna know more about The Darkman? Read the summary below.
“The human mind holds within its infinite reaches many of the greatest mysteries in the universe. Some are vast and wondrous, while others are chilling and nightmarish. Some mysteries are better left hidden in the dark corners of our minds, never breaking free of our subconscious. Six high school students set out to explore these depths by sharing a mind altering substance on a night meant to be filled with both wild hallucinations and crazy antics. But the fun and games come to a shuddering halt when a strange man appears. This isn’t just any stranger. He is the Dark Man. Haunter of dreams and purveyor of nightmares. Dressed in a black suit and top hat, his pale skin and twisted grin promise a very deranged night of entertainment.”
M-O-M by Joslyn Corvis
Everyone has a best childhood friend. Tiffany was mine. We used to do all the typical little girl things together. Tea parties, sleepovers, and playing silly kid games.
We’d usually end up at my house. I had the feeling that her dad didn’t like having kids over. And I kinda got the feeling that he didn’t really like having Tiffany around, either. I never asked and never really saw anything for myself, but his kindness seemed forced to me. He seemed to act a bit sharp and cold toward her. I don’t think he was physically abusive, but it seemed as if she were almost afraid of him.
Inevitably, we got older and grew apart as most friends do. At the so-very mature age of twelve I started hanging out with the popular kids. I would invite Tiffany to hang out with us, but she was so awkward and just hung in the background. When I’d walk off with my new friends she’d just stand there. I told myself that it wasn’t my fault. It was hers. Why was she so weird? How was I supposed to fix that? We were at that point where we would just greet each other in passing until we stopped any sort of acknowledgement of each other at all. I don’t know about her, but I would go out of my way to look the other direction. I’m really not sure why. Maybe by that time I’d become more concerned about my own reputation.
A turning point in our relationship came during my senior year of high school. I was to graduate in December at the age of seventeen and couldn’t wait. Everyone was always asking me about jobs, college, career choices. I was enjoying the attention. And in all of my own social and academic success, I’d totally forgotten about Tiffany.
I remember it was in October, two months before graduation. Someone called me on the phone, but I didn’t recognize the shaky voice. “Is this Morgan?” asked the caller.
“Yeah, it is.” Silence on the other end. Curiosity consumed me and I listened closely, waiting for someone to say something. Seeing how the caller went quiet, I spoke. “Who’s this?”
“Tiffany. Shankley. Remember me?”
“Oh, right. Right. How have you been?” I was trying to sound genuine, but I really didn’t care. I knew perfectly well how she’d been. She started dressing in black and hanging out with those weird kids. In my mind I kept thinking of what I would tell my friends, and how we would joke that I’m lucky she didn’t call me up to lure me to her house as a human sacrifice. Then we’d all laugh.
“Been okay. How about you?”
I started to tell her about all the wonderful things that were happening in my life and what the future held in store for me. We chatted for a while and something inside me sparked. I was reminded of old times. Things had once been so great between us! What went wrong, I wondered, shamefully arriving at the answer. It was me. I went wrong with Tiffany. She wasn’t that bad, just shy. Even though we weren’t friends, I didn’t have to laugh when people made fun of her. I could hear my voice trail off as I became lost in thought. She took my pause as an opportunity to speak.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit tonight. Just catch up on old times,” she asked. “I’d heard you were going to graduate soon and figured you’d be busy after that. So,” she paused, seeming unsure of what to say. “I thought it might be my last chance to get ahold of you.”
Thinking it over, I decided to go. Things seemed as if they hadn’t really changed much over the phone, so why would anything be different in person? I walked the short distance to her house. Her house was on a back street, kind of secluded, but I still knew the way.
I stood in front of her house, motionless. Since it was October, I couldn’t help but think of how appropriate the scene looked. She sat on the front stoop, dressed all in black with her elbows on her knees and her head resting in her clasped hands. She looked so pale, enhanced by the black makeup around her eyes.
“Uh, Hi,” I said. “So, what do you wanna do?”
Her face lit up. “Hi!” she squealed. “Come in!”
As she held the ratty screen door open for me, I cautiously entered, remembering how intrusive I used to feel at her house. I stepped as if I were walking on eggshells as I entered. It was almost as if she’d read my mind.
“My dad died a couple years back,” she said without emotion.
“I’m so sorry!” I stammered, wanting to ask why but holding my tongue. She just shrugged, making an, “Eh,” sound.
Her room was nothing like I’d remembered. Pentagrams and skulls. Weird stuff everywhere. Everything was black. A far cry from how I remembered it: The pink “Little Princess” bedspread and the dolls scattered on the floor.
She sat on her bed and beckoned me to sit next to her. It felt as forced as her father’s smile, but pretty soon we were chatting like crazy! She really wasn’t that different from my other friends. The ones I’d abandoned her for.
All the topics were covered—Boys, clothes, and even some gossip. We did each other’s hair and nails and when the clock struck midnight, we realized how hungry we were so we went to the kitchen. After snacking and goofing around, we passed by the clock in the hall back to her room. It was 12:30. On the dot. We sat back down on the bed and I was about to thank her for having me over, but I didn’t get the chance. She jumped up without warning and crouched by the bed, pulling something out from underneath.
“Wanna play?” she asked with a strange grin, holding a folded board game in her hand.
I think I nodded, a little nervous. I knew this wasn’t going to be Candy Land. Either way, she pushed a narrow table in front of her bedroom door, exerting minimal force, and put a black cloth on top. After strategically arranging a few black candles on top of the table, which she lit, she sat on the floor in front of me and opened the board game, revealing it to be a Ouija board.
“My mom is working until two in the morning so we’ll have plenty of time. She freaks out about this stuff, you know how moms are. Oh, one more thing!” she said, jumping up and hitting the lights. She was like a ball of energy, a side of her I hadn’t seen in years. I think I’d come to view her as nothing more than a stick in the mud.
We sat there and I followed her lead having seen a million movies with these things. I gently put my fingertips on the triangle, or whatever it was called, as she closed her eyes. “Who are you?” she asked.
Nothing happened. We focused some more. “Who are you?” she repeated. And then the triangle jittered, but only slightly. I wondered if she was moving it to scare me. But then it started to move as if it had a mind of its own. Her eyes popped open and she stared at the board as if in a trance. We said each letter together as the little window of the triangle hit upon them.
And then it stopped. We looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Suddenly there were footsteps in the hall. “Tiffany,” called her mother’s voice. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I’d never forget how pleasant her mother’s voice always sounded. “What are you doing, Tiffany?”
I didn’t have time to think rationally as I was afraid of getting caught, but why would her mom bother her in the middle of the night? The room was dark, unless she saw the glow of the candles from outside. My main concern that her mom would tell my mom, and that everyone at school would make fun of me.
There was a strong burst at the door that tipped the table over. The candles quickly caught the black fabric on fire. I saw a glimpse of her mother in the doorway which was open at least a foot. Tiffany and I glanced at each other and made a break for the window. I pushed the screen out thinking she was behind me still, but then I heard her mother’s voice. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Tiffany had run back to save her mother, trying to get through the flames to open the door. I thought her mom would have been long gone by that time, but she stood there doing nothing as Tiffany continue to battle through the fire.
“Tiffany!” I screamed. “Let’s go! Your mom has time to get out through the front door!” Neither of them answered, and Tiffany’s mom just stood there, oblivious to the smoke. Oblivious to Tiffany. I ran back and tried to drag Tiffany away. “Come on!” I yelled, choking on my words and the smoke. But she wouldn’t budge.
I ran to the window once again and looked back, but she was still trying to get to her mother. It was hopeless for me to even try. If the flames hadn’t been licking at her hands she could have just easily opened the door which would have pushed the table out of the way, but the fire was growing. I had to save myself.
I struggled to get through the window and rolled out to safety. Frantically dialing 9-1-1, I could see that the fire was starting to get bigger from the golden blaze from within. Smoke flooded through the open window and I was crying as the dispatcher asked for my location. Could she understand me, I wondered?
Screams started to fill my ears. By that time I don’t think I could even speak. I was a mess, gagging on my words as the dispatcher tried to keep me calm. I could swear I saw Tiffany twirling around in flames, but I still wonder if that horrible image was in my imagination. It’s the only way I can cope with that night, to try to erase it all from my memory. A few years have passed, and I wonder if I’ll ever forget.
And then the screams from within stopped as my own became louder. Suddenly I was being enveloped by two dark figures who pulled me away and I heard a staticy voice, but couldn’t make out what it was saying. I thrashed around in a panic and looked up, seeing a police car parked in the street, the staticy voice coming from one of their radios. I screamed that my friend and her mother were still inside, finally finding my voice. Everything after that was pretty much a blur.
The fire was finally out. It was all over. I sat in a daze of silent shock wrapped in a blanket as a firefighter came to tell me what I already knew. I didn’t cry. At least not then. I was too numb. They asked me repeatedly about Tiffany’s mother being inside and I kept telling them I was sure of it, though not in so many words. It was still hard to talk.
I thought the police had come in response to my call, but as I later found out, they were there to talk to Tiffany. Her mother had left work early that night, and some time around midnight while on her way home, she had been killed in a car accident.
This is now an eBook, available on smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/582432
Thanks for checking it out! 🙂
Funeral Feast (The Dark Angel Chronicles) is different from most zombie lit out there. And I have to say, I’m really diggin’ the cover art! If you buy this book solely based on the cover, you will not be disappointed. You can check it out in all of its awesomeness right here.
Funeral Feast is fast-paced with a little more focus on action and storyline than your average zombie book. In a lot of zombie books you’re along for the ride with your everyday characters as they try to make a clean getaway, but in this story, you’re waiting to see Michael’s next move. He has this charismatic air of confidence as he effortlessly takes down the undead horde with his sidearms…and even his boot. I love how author Jeff Patrick brings The Dark Angel to life. Michael is such a bad-ass! He’s immune to fear and keeps his cool, pausing at times to make a witty comment after blasting a zombie with Paladin at his side. The Dark Angel and Paladin are vital to each other. They’re like the PB&J of monster killers. And on a personal level, Paladin is my favourite. He really adds to the whole allure of the book and is the best side-kick of any comic book or movie I’ve seen. He sort of steals the show in his own way. Unlike other sidekicks, Paladin has the ability to stand alone with his presence.
There’s a certain point in this story when you know something bigger is going on. This is not your average zombie contagion. It’s something more. And when you get to the very end, you know that you’re going to want to grab the next book as soon as it’s out so you can see how the story unravels bit by bit. I have to say, this is the first time that I’ve read a book in a series before the second one is even out, and I’m definitely hooked. I can’t wait for the next one. I’m wondering what creatures of the night The Dark Angel and Paladin will be up against.
Stay tuned for my *exclusive* interview with Jeff Patrick, as well as our conversation (to be captured on audio for your listening pleasure)!
Writers are my rock stars. They are my athletes. They make my whole little universe swirl with excitement and the anticipation of reading the latest masterpieces they put out and whenever I get word that they’re working on a new project my heart skips a beat. And since reading is a favourite hobby of mine, I seek out authors that I know will not disappoint. So, as a reader, it’s vital to my existance to find an author that I can really get into. And they are few and far between.
P. A. Douglas is one of those few. After reading Watchers (Paperback) and Rancid (Paperback) I’m now a die-hard fan! I’m really excited about Hitchers (Paperback) and I’m lovin’ the concept of this one and can’t wait to read it! While they’re available for Kindle, I personally prefer paperbacks to e-books so I’m saving back enough money to buy it as we speak! Now that I’ve derailed from my topic, let me get back on track.
I was able to get five questions answered pertaining to Rancid from P. A. Douglas himself! How awesome is that?!?!? You can also check out my interview with P. A. Douglas about Watchers right here.
JC: I love how Rancid has a style reminiscent of some of the 80s zombies movies without being a copy. In the last interview you said that you’re an “80s Baby”, so was the 80s vibe of this book something that just happened, or were you intentionally going for that style?
P. A.: I intentionally go for that style, because that’s the style I like. However, I tried to mix in a little bit of a new-age twist just to keep things fresh. Well, as fresh as a rotting corpse can get.
JC: I’ve heard that it can be difficult for writers to come up with ways to get rid of cell phones, particularly in horror. Since you had a group of characters, was it difficult to nix cell phones from the picture?
P. A.: Honestly, I am going to go with a ‘NO’. Some authors forget all about that aspect of the story. When I write, I try to think of what I would do in the situation. I wouldn’t run up the stairs to get away. No, I would run right out the front door and keep on running. So…if I am in a situation where I could really use a phone to get some help, then hell yea my characters would do the same. Getting rid of them can easily be done wrong. Just be subtle when and if you decided to do something like that. For example, you would run out the front door when the killer is in your house. If that happened the story would end prematurely. Just think it through. Give them a reason to turn around, or, an obstacle that keeps them from doing so.
JC: When it comes to zombie books or movies, I think all of us Z-buffs analyse what we would have done, or would have done differently than the characters. I think this was the first time that I’ve ever seen scenarios where the characters are pretty much stuck between a zombie and a hard place. And this was the first time that I’ve been at a loss as to how I would have gotten away unbitten! After reading some of those parts over and over, I humbly concluded that I would have been minced meat. You really gave a feeling of claustrophobic terror, and in a good way! With such originality, I have to ask where these concepts came from. Did you take a step back to ask yourself what you could do that hasn’t been done yet, or did the ideas just flow?
P. A.: Well, let’s be honest. Everything in the writing world has been done. It’s all been done in the movies, or in books and comics. Just because something isn’t original that doesn’t mean it can’t be unique. The human isn’t original, but every last thumb print is.
JC: Every writer has a different motive. To tell a story, to recruit readers, maybe even hopes of acquiring fortune and fame. And some write because of a sheer love of writing. What is it that drives you?
P. A.: I enjoy watching things grow. I was a full time singer-songwriter for a long time, and became accustomed to watching the number of fans grow as my career developed. I don’t care for fame or money. I love being creative and watching the readership grow. I enjoy knowing others like what I have created. That is the same with music, books, art… all of that stuff.
JC: The debate over environmental care and Global Warming has become so conflicted. Personally, I think we can all do a little something to take care of our planet. From everyday litter cluttering our streets to the devastation of Chernobyl, it’s a real concern. Was this book at all meant to make people think about the environment and what we put into our bodies, or just a really damn good story?
P. A.: When I write, I write from my life. I was on tour, so I wrote a book about a band on tour (Epidemic of the Undead). I was done with tour, so I wrote about a guy dealing with not being on tour (Hitchers). I made a few new friends that work at different chemical plants, so I wrote about a plant explosion (Watchers). I hate fast food… so… well, you get the point. I’m a home cooked meal kind of guy!
I’m supposed to be cleaning but in between time I’ve been on Facebook chatting with my niece and catching up with a few friends. I’ve actually made a lot of progress so everything is looking better AND I was able to catch up with everyone. Anyway, when I got back to cleaning I found a makeup bag that I hadn’t thrown away because I was planning to clean it up. It has some sentimental value to me because of whom it’s from, but I broke a mirror inside and was worried the tiny little shards would scatter and I definitely don’t want my budgie to eat it. She can pick out things I can’t see, so I have to be careful. Right now she is relaxing and I hope that I’ll be able to take her outside in a bit to give her a bath. So I really shouldn’t be procrastinating but I’m going to keep it short.
Besides all of that, I really don’t want to clutter my blog with a bunch of nonsense because there’s some really excitingly awesome stuff going on pretty soon and I don’t want people to lose interest before I get that rollin’.
So anyway I’m cleaning and I ran across this broken mirror in the makeup bag. Then I thought, Oh, great…seven years… And then just a minute ago I thought, I must be breaking mirrors at least every 3-5 years, so when’s the bad luck going to stop? But this ties in with a conversation I had with a friend not long ago, and something that I thought would make an interesting topic.
She has a rectangular mirror leaning against the wall that she turns around before bed. It makes her feel unsettled when the mirror is showing. Well, I kinda-sorta have that same thing with mirrors because I know of the legends, but she doesn’t keep up with anything ghostly or supernatural. Anyway, as far as the legends go there are just too many to list! Some say mirrors are good, some say they’re bad, but one idea that I really like comes from old African-American beliefs. If you hang a mirror on, say a tree or something outside, it reflects evil and protects your home. But then…
Then I hear all this “mirrors are portals to other realms” talk and there’s a ritual you can do at midnight (and I heard it on Coast to Coast AM so you know it’s got to be true! lol) and then you can see all the entities coming out of the mirror! And then I start thinking about The Ring. That movie was SO lame, but when you’re thinking about a little girl crawling out of your mirror at night while you sleep Ring-style, it’s scary! I gotta say, mirrors are one of the only things that freak me out. Well, porcelain dolls, too. It’s a well-known fact that porcelain is an easy vessel for spirits and other things to inhabit.
As anti-climactic as this entry has been, I hope to research the whole mirror thing and maybe ask around to see if anyone has had experiences or used mirrors in séances, or how they feel about mirrors in general.
Oh! And if you decide to look up the supernatural ties to mirrors for yourself, there’s a chance the whole Bloody Mary thing might pop up. Don’t try it. I speak from experience. Nothing good will come of it. And if something is living in your mirror…where does it go from there?
Well I am off! I have a budgie to bathe.