Author Spotlight: Janine Pipe

Interview 

Please introduce yourself.

Hi. I’m a writer from Swindon in the UK. I’m an ex-police officer, happily married with an 11 year old daughter.

I love all things horror and Disney, and as well as writing, I am a publicist and editor at Kandisha Press with my amazing BFF Jill Girardi and a reviewer for Scream Magazine, Horror DNA, Horror Oasis and Night Worms. I have a booktube channel where I waffle about books and interview other authors, usually with my review bestie Ben Long, and I co-host a podcast with another BFF, Lou Yardley. 

I read as much indie horror as I can, and my favourite authors are Glenn Rolfe, Hunter Shea and Tim Meyer. I also love delving into Ketchum, Laymon, Keene etc. and learning from the masters. 

What inspired you to write the TTT (Twisted: Tainted Tales) collection of stories? 

I really enjoy flash fiction and short stories. I had a plethora ready to go just waiting for a home and I just suddenly thought, what am I saving these for, why don’t I just put out a collection and that was it! I have a couple of novellas which are still very much WIP and I wanted to get something of my own out into the world. 

Why is this collection a must read? 

I think TTT is a must read if you like the 80s, some humour and fun injected into your horror, pop culture and a lot of blood. A couple of the stories are always very sexual as that often goes hand-in-hand with splatterpunk and extreme but it is very much tongue in cheek. There will also be a ton of names that you may recognise. 

Which story was most fun to write? 

The most fun was for sure Paradise City which let’s just say involves a magical hole in a tree and some very horny teenagers …

Which character from the collection is your favorite? Which was hardest to write? 

I have a real soft spot for Sam from They. Teen boys are my favourite characters to write apart from cops. They are just so much fun and swear even more than I do.

I’m not sure any of them have been that hard, even my villains and monsters have been quite fun to create. 

Do your stories tell themselves or are you the plot and plan type? 

Total pantster. I have the gem of an idea and then just sit and write … it’s the only way I can work. This is likely another reason why I struggle with longer works. What I need is someone looking over my shoulder and telling me to get on with it. I’m the queen of procrastination. 

Do you feel your stories are more character driven or plot? 

100% character – I love banter and camaraderie with them – for some reason I also find boys/men easier to create. There is often an homage to someone I know or another fictional character I love in my work. I have some very vague plans for something in the future that’ll be heavily influenced by Fox Mulder and Will Graham. 

What is your writing process? What do you enjoy/hate most about it? 

I write when I can. Just sit and write. That’s it, that’s the extent of my ‘process’. It’s worked so far, lol. My husband is almost always my tester/alpha reader and then I send it off to trusted others for feedback and then it’s either sub and sweat or I keep it for later.

I enjoy the creativity and I hate the time constraints. But that’s life.

Are you working on another collection or book? What other goals lie ahead? 

Yes, I will be starting my second collection as soon as the launch of TTT is over. I still have two WIP novellas and there are a few collabs on the table for the next couple of years which will keep me busy. Also all the editing stuff with Kandisha including a BIG Top Secret project which is going to be epic. 

Why do you choose to self publish? 

Mainly because collections are hard to sell to publishers, not that many presses take them on and I wanted to get this out ASAP. It was hard, I’m not going to lie, but mainly because I am so un-tech savvy. I’m used to the promoting side of things, but actually putting it together and getting it onto KDP was not easy. I have to give a HUGE thank you to Jason Brant and Lou for helping me with that. 

What is your advice to other indie authors? 

Keep writing, keep reading, keep honing your craft. Keep an eye on open calls and work on something that you love. Write what you want to read and what feels right for you.

As a writer, what do you feel is your biggest accomplishment? Biggest letdown? Biggest dream? 

Biggest accomplishment – being invited by Glenn to submit to a sampler for his press (They and Alien Agenda Publishing) AND Glenn writing me the most amazing foreword for TTT and comparing our writing. Many, many tears …

Biggest let down – not really sure, I have subbed a few times to Flame Tree and not got anywhere. Don D’Auria would be the Dream Editor to work with alongside Ken McKinley. 

Biggest dream – to collab on something with Glenn and to have something published by Silver Shamrock and Flame Tree Press.  

What was the toughest criticism you received as an author? The biggest compliment? 

Criticism would be from people that don’t like the splattery side of my work, as it is something that I try hard to make work especially as a woman writer. 

Compliment is anytime someone compares my writing to Glenn’s.

Read an excerpt

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Janine's Published Works 

Twitter: @janinepipe28

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Footsteps: An Excerpt from Janine Pipe's TTT Anthology

 

By Janine Pipe 

Prologue

Come on, just a few more minutes. 

Kelly was desperate. She tried to convince herself that her bladder was not about to explode all over her new Ford Escort. 

Please, please, please.

She hadn’t planned to leave quite so late and had in no way intended to take the winding, no-cats-eyes route through the forest. 

It was about fifteen minutes at least until she would arrive home. 

Duran Duran’s latest hit blasted out from the radio.

Lady Luck was not on her side. She felt a sharp pain and realised with annoyance that not only did she need to pee, but her sanitary pad was now sodden too.

She pulled the car over.

God damn it!

She sat for a moment considering her options. She in no way wanted to do what she was now considering. She was not uncouth. 

Yet, if she didn’t get out and change her now useless pad, she risked leaking menstrual blood all over the cream interior of the new car.

Needs must.

She grabbed her bag and a bottle of water and turned the headlights on to full beam. It was pitch black in the woods and she hadn’t seen another car for miles. With the added light of her open driver’s door, she would be able to pee, change her pad, bag it up, rinse the ground and her hands and be on her way. Desperate times, desperate measures. She would never speak of it.

She stepped out onto the grass verge, pulled up her dress and squatted. 

Relief was short-lived. 

Crack.

She froze, knickers around her ankles, pad in hand.

What the—

Kelly didn’t even get the chance to scream.

 

***

 ‘Have you got all the cameras, the batteries, the extra batteries? Everything is charged and ready to go?’

‘Yes,’ Felicity replied, feeling exasperated. They had already gone over this several times. 

‘Tent, maps, torches, food? I really don’t want to get stuck out in the woods tonight without adequate provisions.’

‘It is all sorted,’ she promised, rolling her eyes.  

‘And we know where Loz is waiting for us?’

‘Yes, Becky! Loz is exactly where she said she would be, like we have discussed. Chill!’

She was looking forward to their overnight adventure in the woods. It seemed a bit cliché, rite-of-passage, but the girls thought it would be good for their book research. 

Becky, however, was getting a little fanatical about what they were taking with them. She was not an outdoorsy type of person and was paranoid that they would forget some ‘can’t spend the night without’ essential. 

She was dressed as if she was off to a party rather than hiking through the forest. Low-rise jeans with a floral peasant top might be perfect for a night at the Student Union, but not so great for traipsing through the woods. At least Felicity had managed to convince her she needed hiking boots, to protect her from twisting an ankle.

Growing up with three older rough-and-tumble brothers, Felicity had spent many days climbing trees; and many evenings camping as a Brownie. She had chosen sensible cargo trousers and a ribbed turtleneck sweater. Her long blonde hair was tied into a ponytail under a Von Dutch baseball cap.

She did feel some trepidation. Only insofar that whilst researching several of the so-called local legends of the area, she had discovered that there were many tales regarding unexplained disappearances. But she was a sceptic. Despite thoroughly enjoying digging through the old lore, she didn’t think anyone could just vanish. Truth be told, she was just hoping to get some good photos. One might prove worthwhile for the cover of her book, if it were to ever be published of course.

Sighing deeply, she listened as Becky continued to fret about whether they had packed enough food for the one-night sleepover and making sure they didn’t have anything that would attract ‘wild animals’. 

Felicity snorted. ‘I’m pretty sure there aren’t any bears or wolves in Dorset. Maybe a nosey pony?’ She checked the bags and camping apparatus were secure under the trailer tarpaulin and got into the Range Rover she was borrowing from her dad for the trip.

‘Just get in!’ she ordered, and as always, Becky dutifully obeyed her. Sometimes it was more like having a puppy than a best friend. 

‘You certain you know where we’re going?’ Becky asked as Felicity put the 4x4 into gear and tore off the pebbled driveway. 

‘Yes, it’s not far. And it’s a huge forest. How damn hard can it be to find? Besides,’ she added, ‘Loz is already there, remember.’

Becky furrowed her brow. She often seemed stressed these days. She fidgeted for a bit and then played with the radio, settling on some classic 80s rock.

Felicity turned and looked at her friend. ‘Try not to think about him, Bex. This is for us. Fuck him.’

Becky blinked a few times, as if fighting back tears. Then she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Her ex had never liked her to smoke.

She put one in her mouth, lit it, and took a long drag.

‘Yeah!’ she shouted. ‘Fuck him! Oh, that reminds me.’ She turned, sighing. ‘Typically, I’ve got my period today. I can’t believe the timing of it! Because being all bloody in the woods is so convenient. Not.’

She concentrated on driving. It was typical that Becky would have to suffer some sort of minor setback on the trip. This was less than ideal, but not the end of the world. I understood what was implied. At least that bastard hadn’t left her pregnant.

They drove on in companionable silence. It took around half an hour to find the start of the woods. It seemed to go on for miles and miles. And as was to be expected, the GPS and mobile phone coverage was now intermittent.

‘So’, she said, glancing over at Becky, who was holding the map, frowning. ‘Where exactly is Loz?’

Becky turned the map upside down, and then gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I just don’t know!’ she whined. ‘You’re the expert – you find her.’

So, Felicity continued to drive down the windy dirt path, until they came to an area that seemed as though it had been used by campers before. And there, thank goodness, was Loz’s battered Mini. She parked the car and hopped out, enjoying a luxurious stretch as she did.

‘This should be it.’ She could see a well-trodden path in front of them, and the trees appeared to be a little sparser in the distance. They didn’t want to traipse too far in. Hopefully they’d soon spot Loz who had texted earlier that morning to say she was on the way, but her phone was about to die. Typical of her.  

They hauled off the tarp and pulled the heavy packs onto their backs. They grabbed the tent and the foodstuff, and Felicity made sure the Range Rover was secure. 

Then off they went into the woods.

~~~~~~

An Interview with Janine Pipe

The One that Got Away: Women of Horror Anthology V3

• Kandisha Press
• www.kandishapress.com
• Email

SYNOPSIS:

What doesn't kill me, might make me kill you!

30 women authors from around the world were challenged to write about The One That Got Away. Here you'll find tales of unrequited love, blind dates gone wrong, stalkers and their prey, cursed guitars, alien symbiotes, sinister letters, and bitter acts of revenge. Dive into these murky depths and discover what hides inside the minds of women scorned.

With Foreword by Gwendolyn Kiste (Bram Stoker award winning author of The Rust Maidens). Edited by Jill Girardi.

Reviews

'Mother Horror' Sadie Hartmann

Jennifer Soucy

February 2021 Poetry Contest Winner

 

CANDY COATED CRAPOLA

by Colin D. Palmer

Dark persistent pleas,

a proclivity to disdain  

from the cold-hearted bitch.

A smiling sneer

the sole, initial recompense

to forlorn supplications.

“Deign to prayer?”

The sweet sarcasm oozes

between blood-red lips.

Flashing eyes follow

the icy road, a route

of beauty and brutal finality.

Close your eyes,

remember the vista,

attach memories of pleasure.

They will be your last,

you know this, for she

foretold, and forewarned.

Yet you did not see

or hear beyond the

sexual innuendo she imbibed.

Close your eyes

and remember that once,

once you were a man.

Envisage her long, 

smooth thighs, the delicate lace

lingerie, gossamer silk panties.

Recollect the soft fingers

caressing your face and neck,

as she weighed your subjugation.

The road to destiny

is protracted and icy,

as will be your dissolution. 

No more prayers or pleas,

face it like a man,

the man you once were.

She bettered you effortlessly.

Perchance the cold-hearted bitch

is a better man than you.

© Colin D. Palmer, 2021

January 2021 Pictorial Prompt Poetry Contest Winner

  

 Brave

by Chris Young

 

She stands on the track with that defiant face.
That perfect stubborn child’s face.

Defiant against the train oncoming?
Defiant towards the one who wants to save her?

She fears not the one,
and needs not the other.

Stares down one
Shuns the other.

The bravest girl I know.

~~~~~~~~~~

Read more about Chris Young

Chris Young: Poet Spotlight

Chris grew up in Springfield, Illinois. A little neighborhood called the cabbage patch because, well it was a cabbage patch that got uprooted to put in housing for people working at Allis Chalmers. It was World War Two and my dad went to the South Pacific and my mom went to factory.

They never left that little house once dad came home.

Chris is the 5th child of 5. His first experience with reading was walking to the library with his mom. He as five years old and it was about a 3 mile walk. He would walk that every week just to keep checking out Where the Wild Things Are. He loved that book. As He got older say 10 or 11 he would sneak the books from mom’s bookshelf he wasn’t supposed to read. He would do that on Sunday morning while his mom and dad were at the bowling alley for an hour and a half. It took him six months to read The Exorcist.

When he became a teen he read voluminously and began to think he could write better than some of the books he was reading. He couldn’t, but he can now. He first realized he could write while in the Navy. He responded to a Dear John letter a friend got. She wrote back and wanted to meet Chris instead of the friend he wrote the letter for.

He has been writing every since for shear pleasure. 7 years in the Navy and 20 years on the road has been a boon to his writing. He continues today.

As for the poem, he loves picture prompts, and this one reminded him of someone special. A couple of someones as these are the kind he is drawn to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

See Chris's Contest Winning Poem Brave