Obviously, this is a bit of a tricky subject. There are probably a lot of people out there who will think twelve is too young for horror and we should be more careful in what we watch with her. Ironically, there are probably an equal number of people who think we’re too restrictive, because while we’ve introduced her to some horror, we wait till she’s in bed to watch The Walking Dead. 

I can hear the argument engines revving, so I’m going to start this post off right away with a few caveats:

• Horror is not appropriate for all kids: Some people get scared easily. Some people don’t like being scared. You know your kid; make choices accordingly.
• Not all horror is okay for kids: Horror is a broad and varied genre, and while I’ll argue below that sometimes it’s good to feel a little disturbed (what’s the point of horror if not to make us question society and ourselves), it’s not okay to feel damaged.
• Watch with her vs. Let her watch.  We don’t “let” her watch horror. We watch it with her. We choose movies we think she’ll enjoy, and we watch them together, as a family. We talk about what’s going on, both from a character/society point of view, and from a narrative/structure/art point of view.

Why we decided to introduce our daughter to horror

One of the things all parents learn very quickly (I hope) is that their kids are not them. While Little Person (a bit of a misnomer, given that at twelve she’s at least three inches taller than me) shares traits with both of us, she is also decidedly her own person. And like all parents, Dan and I have had to adjust our parenting on the fly to accommodate those differences and meet her needs.

When I was growing up, the house rules around books and TV were pretty simple. If I could read it, I could read it, but Mom and Dad got final say on the TV. That meant that horror was not something I was exposed to until I was an adolescent, and that worked out pretty well for me. I’m one of those people who has come to appreciate the genre as an adult. As a pre-teen/teen on the other hand, I DID NOT LIKE being scared. I tried…I really did (my birthday parties between the ages of 13 and 15, which featured The Blob, Poltergeist, and Child’s play — with predictable results — can attest to that), but I got scared easily, and when I did, the fear stuck around for a long time. Slimer from Ghostbusters gave me nightmares, and Evil Dead (which I watched while sleeping over at a friend’s house) terrified the crud out of me. It was literally months before I could go for a hike in the woods without being scared to tears. Even the idea of being scared, scared me. I once brought home a copy of Pet Sematary from the public library and was so freaked out by the picture of the cat on the cover that I hid it under a pile of laundry till I could take it back, unread. It wasn’t till I discovered the Monster Panic sub-genre that I began to develop a taste for horror, and I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for Tremors.

I began my adult life with the assumption that this kind of stuff was just too scary for kids. I remember being incensed at parents who took their eight year olds to see Jurassic Park. That movie made me jump (Raptors, like Aliens — and zombies — are uniquely terrifying. Something about the way they can navigate human environments). If it scared me, I thought, how could a kid handle it? I was NOT, I told myself, going to be one of those parents.

As she grew older, however, Little Person began to develop a taste for being scared that far exceeded my childhood tolerance. The turning point came when she was around six, and Dan took her to a live-action haunted house put on jointly by The Haunted Walk and Ottawa’s Diefenbunker Museum. She loved it. She loved it so much that when the call came for zombie volunteers the next year, she asked us if we could sign up. Turns out, kid’s good at being scary!

Five years later, we’re still volunteering, and being behind the scenes in a haunted house has gotten her interested in the anatomy of horror. How can light, pacing, music and sound (or the lack thereof) be used to create tension and fear? How do jump-scares work? Etc., etc., etc..

That interest, combined with her emotional maturity and advanced reading level, led us to reconsider our stance on horror for kids. I had to eat my pre-child words (as most parents do) regarding Jurassic Park; she loves those movies, and they never scared her, although Jurassic World made her cry.

We began to gradually introduce the scary stuff we enjoyed, starting with horror themed board games (Arkham Horror and Zombicide) and Monster Panic movies.  Over the last year, we’ve moved into gothic horror, supernatural horror, and *some* zombie movies. She asked me to recommend some books, so I started her off with Stephen King’s “The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon”.

Our family ground rules for movies are as follows:

• She doesn’t watch anything she hasn’t seen before without talking to us first. Dan and I will often pre-screen new movies to see what we think. If we say “no”, she knows it’s not arbitrary, and it’s not “no” forever. In terms of The Walking Dead, we’ve told her we’d talk about it when she turns fourteen. That’s not so far away, in the grand scheme of things.
• Nothing with graphic violence (Although campy a la Army of Darkness is ok)
• Nothing with sexual violence
• When she watches movies with her friends at our house, it has to be something her friend’s parents are okay with. These are things I ask when meeting other parents. Right now she has one friend whose folks are okay with horror, and a number whose parents are not. That’s cool with us.

Long story short, every child is unique, and as a parent, you need to know your child. If they get frightened easily, are prone to nightmares, or — like adolescent me — have trouble letting go of fear …maybe horror isn’t for them. And that’s fine.

If, on the other hand, they like that shiver-down-the-spine feeling, love ghost and monster stories, and think Halloween is the best holiday ever (and not just for the candy), it may be time to explore some spookier fare.

How Horror can provide teachable moments

Horror can be supernatural or mundane, and can span the gamut from psychological thrillers that terrify while showing nothing at all to all-out gore-fests. What it all has in common is that horror as a genre is often about things that make us uncomfortable both personally and socially. Good horror asks the hard questions and (hopefully) makes us question ourselves and our assumptions. What is it like to be different, or alone, or trapped, or invaded, or powerless? What happens when society breaks down? How will people behave? What does it mean to be human…or not human?

Watching or reading horror with your kids can offer a lot of “teachable moments”, from the generic:

• What should so-and-so have really done?
• What would you do, if…?

To the social:

• What social narratives about women do classic slasher movies often reinforce?
• What are the common tropes in Monster Panic/Disaster movies, and what cultural narratives do they reinforce?
• What does a movie like Get Out tell us about the experience of being black in in America?

Please DO watch movies that expose and subvert tropes and narratives, like Cabin in the Woods.  Stephen King’s novels are also a good place to begin conversations about gender stereotypes and domestic violence, as he often explores the terror inherent in being female or a child in a misogynistic society.

To the very personal:

• Why does this scare me?
• Why does this make me uncomfortable?
• What does that say about the narratives I tell myself?

Needless to say, talking about horror provides way better opportunities for positive life lessons than a lot of other stuff out there aimed at young adults, particularly the stuff aimed at girls.

Horror books/movies that we’ve shared with Little Person (but may or may not be okay for other kids)

Caveats: I’ve put a * beside the ones that I’d hesitate on, with other kids her age who aren’t her. And, as usual with my lists, this is probably far from inclusive!

Books

• Doll Bones by Holly Black
• The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King
• Carrie by Stephen King
• It by Stephen King*
• The Shining by Stephen King*
• Cujo by Stephen King*
• The Relic and Reliquary by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child*
• The Woman in Black by Susan Hill
  

Movies

• Monster Squad
• The Watcher in the Woods
• Tremors (1-6)
• Sleepy Hollow
• Congo
• Deep Rising
• Anaconda & Anacondas (some sexuality, but not much)
• Jaws (1&2)
• Signs
• Odd Thomas
• The Cave
• The Village
• Lake Placid
• Grabbers* (not super scary but does involve a lot of alcohol)
• Night of the  Living Dead (1968 and 1990)*
• Dawn of the Dead (1978)*
• Day of the Dead (1985)*
• Land of the Dead (2005)*
• Cell*
• The Relic* (The book is better!)
• Zombieland*
• Sean of the Dead*
• Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies*
• The Shining (1980 Kubrick version and 1997 miniseries)*
• It (1990 miniseries and 2017 movie)*
• The Stand*
• Pitch Black*
• Resident Evil (all)*
• Underworld (all)*
• Predator (1&2)*
• Sweeny Todd*
• Cabin in the Woods*
• A Quiet Place*
• The Woman in Black*
• Crimson Peak*
• Pet Sematary (1989 & 2019)*

Let’s get this right out there at the beginning. Obstacle course racing is super-duper fun, but it’s not for everyone. You’ll know by the end of your first race if it’s your thing:

• Are you riding an adrenaline high so intense that you want to jump up and down and hug and kiss everyone at the finish line? Did going back to work the Monday after the race feel like culture shock? If so, welcome to your tribe!
• Are you too cold/too hot, muddy, wet, miserable, angry, hurting, and never want to see another ski-hill or obstacle for the rest of your life? Did you tell yourself you’re never doing this ever again? If so, maybe OCR’s not for you.
• Are you too cold/too hot, muddy, wet, miserable, angry, hurting, never want to see another ski-hill or obstacle for the rest of your life, BUT it was still loads of fun and you can’t wait to see everyone again next week because you’ve  already booked your entire race season a year in advance? You’re an OCR racer already! Why haven’t I seen you at the starting line?

If you don’t know what OCR is, I’ll paint you a quick picture: imagine a ski-hill or some other recreational wilderness type place with trails…or things that might be trails…or just bush; that’ll work too. Mark off a course anywhere between 5 to 50+ kilometres (bonus points if you can somehow make it go up and down the same mountain three or more times and still keep the scenery interesting). Add to this bucolic scene a crap-ton of obstacles: high walls, slip-ramps, slides, ropes, monkey bars, rings, jumps, crawls, mud pits, and every variation imaginable of carry-this-heavy-thing. Finally, stir in a heady mixture of music, rousing pre-race speeches, adrenaline, fear, fun, comradery, kindness, sportsmanship, and a thousand-odd runners of all skill levels pushing themselves to their limits…and you have an obstacle course race.

Spartan, Tough Mudder, Mud Hero, Warrior Dash, and Savage Race are some of the more well-known races, but there are lots more. Quebec in particular boasts a huge number of local races such as Dead End Race (with its infamous Apocalypse option, which involves carrying a 25-30lb sandbag for at least half of a 12k race), Northman, and Course Xtreme.

Why do I do this to myself? That’s a question that isn’t as easy to answer as it would seem.

Easy answer: I race because I enjoy trail running, the atmosphere, the people, and the buzz. My first OCR was a now-defunct zombie-themed race called Run for Your Lives. I ran their inaugural event in Maryland, and to this day have trouble expressing the incredible combination of joy, fear, and exhilaration it invoked. I wanted to do it again right away. I never wanted to leave. Coming back to the ‘real world’ was a let-down.

Also, I like chips and cake, and running a long race is a VERY good excuse for an indulgence.

Harder answer: I race because there is a part of me that always wants to push harder, to go further; to see exactly how much I can ask of myself before my body fails. OCR, especially some of the longer endurance events, lets me do that. There’s nothing like the feeling of asking something of yourself that you didn’t think was possible, and then doing it. And yes, it hurts. It hurts while you’re doing it and it hurts after. And the next day you’ll be stiff, sore, bruised, and ten pounds lighter than you were when you started. But the next time you face something that scares you or pushes you out of your comfort zone, you’ll be able to look back and say ‘but I did that’.

Have I DNF-ed? (That’s ‘Did Not Finish’, for the non-race crowd) Yes, once, and I don’t regret it; it was the right decision to make at the time. Have I injured myself, sworn, thrown-up, limped across the finish line, and/or cried? Oh yeah; all of the above, and all more than once. Do I still love the sport? Absolutely.

I’m not an elite racer; I consider myself to be a solid middle-of-the-road competitive age-ranger. But after 7 years of racing (3 competitively, with three World Championships under my belt, and a 2^nd place finish in the 2017 Spartan Canada Competitive Series F40-44) I’ve done things that geeky, book-worm me never thought I could, and I want to keep going to see how much further I can push.

So will I keep racing? Absolutely…but…

As I get older and the injuries pile up (Post-Concussion Syndrome and an impinged nerve in my left shoulder making up the current crop) I’m starting to think about stepping away from competitive OCR and sticking to the fun races. I think, over the next few years, I’ll probably move gradually toward more long-distance trail running. Same chance to push myself, less chance of further injury (although trail running has its own hazards: I messed up my right knee during a 50K staged trail run three weeks before the 2016 Obstacle Racing World Championships). Stepping back a little is okay, because it’s all about balance. I want to enjoy racing. And as much as I like to push myself, I want to be able to enjoy the rewards too. Like cake!

Half way through a seven-hour drive to yet another rock climbing competition, trapped in a car with three adults, two tween girls, and a metric ton of smelly climbing shoes, I came up with the brilliant idea of making some lists to post on this blog.

How better, I thought (rousing briefly from a groggy haze brought on by Gravol and way too much time on the 401…and trust me, anyone who has driven on the 401 can vouch for how absolutely, mindbogglingly boring and UGLY it is), for my readers to get to know me! 

I pulled out a pen and the little pad of paper I carry everywhere with me in a vain attempt to stop jotting plot notes and bits of dialogue on napkins, bookmarks, parking stubs, and anything else to which I can apply a pen, and very quickly realized that I hate numbered lists. 

Things started out well. I wrote down some titles, each on its own separate page with a neat row of numbers below, because yes, I’m that kind of person. I had loads of ideas and was ready to create a set of fun, fanciful lists that would tell my readers more about me, my tastes, and the things that have shaped my writing. I promptly spent the next hour descending into a wallow of anxiety and self-doubt.  Now, maybe the Gravol, the cramped quarters, and the chaos of being in a closed space with two  twelve-year-olds who managed, in the space of that one trip, to lose a water bottle, a pair of ear-buds, an MP3 player, AND a pair of winter boots, played a part, but I suspect they were only ancillary. My real issue was with the lists themselves.

What happened, you ask? Let’s take my attempt at a “Top Ten Zombie Movies” list as an example.

I decided to start completing the list from the top, with number one. It would be easy, I thought, to name my favourite zombie movie — after all, it’s one of my favourite genres. I couldn’t have been more wrong, and I ran in to trouble right away. Should I give top rank to the original Night of the Living Dead, as foundational to the modern zombie genre? What about the 1990 remake which, while keeping some of the social commentary on race relations, also upped the feminist game by giving Barbara some backbone? Should top place go to Zombieland for its humour and unexpected emotional punches, or to Train to Busan, for its absolutely brilliant brush-stroke character building? And what about The Dead, which took the classic Romero approach but removed the genre from the traditional western setting? 28 Days Later is one of the few movies to give me night terrors, although the sequel left a lot to be desired, and the original Resident Evil was stylish and streamlined; something missing from the later installments in the series. 

The problem, I realized, was that I liked all these movies for different reasons. With no criteria to define my scale (was I picking the top ten scary zombie movies, or international, or classic, or interesting takes on the genre, or, or ,or ,or…?) I found myself with a ten-way tie for first place and an existential crisis about the rest. And that didn’t even cover the movies I own but haven’t had the chance to watch yet: Maggie, Extinction, The Returned, Contracted, and Jeruzelam to name just a few. How could I possibly make a Top Ten Zombie Movie List when I hadn’t seen ALL THE MOVIES!?!?! Add to that the fear that by putting out a Top Ten List I was inviting attack from everyone who disagreed with my choices, and by the end of the road trip I ended up with a note pad filled with movie titles, scribbles, and notes on what I had to watch before I could continue. It was not the fun exercise I’d imagined.

Long story (and car ride) short, I realized that I don’t like numbered lists for the following reasons:

• They are totally subjective (but present the illusion of objective authority) (i.e., any given top ten list is valid only for its creator)
• They force you to compare and contrast things that are better appreciated for their own merits
• They are always incomplete and out of date (New movie released? Damn, obsolete already…)
• They just stress me out

So on that note, I present my “Random, unordered, incomplete, and absolutely subjective list of zombie movies I like”

• Night of the Living Dead (original and 1990s remake)
• Dawn of the Dead (original, although the opening sequences of the 2004 remake were great)
• Resident Evil
• Zombieland
• Shaun of the Dead
• Train to Busan
• The Dead (I and II)
• Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies
• 28 Days Later (Which I will NEVER, EVER watch again. Once was enough)
• Dead and Breakfast (the songs are a riot)
• Dead Set (Arguably a TV mini-series, but it’s my list, so there)
• The Girl with all Gifts
• Pontypool
• The Zombie Diaries
• The Crazies
• Warm Bodies (Read the book!)
• Cargo (The original 5min short is better)

So, as I mentioned in my first post and my bio, I have cats. Strange cats.

Meet Mutant Cat 1

And Mutant Cat 2.0

My cats are both Cornish Rex; a breed that originated in Cornwall, England in the 1950s and is known for its ultra-soft, curly down coat, and…unique appearance.  Yes, they look a bit naked sometimes, and yes, when they sit in the window just right, you can see the sun through their ears AND the skin between the bones in their lower legs. And yes, while I think they are absolutely lovely (evocative of Egyptian statues, even), I fully understand that cats who look more than a little bit like bug-eyed, bat-eared aliens are not to everyone’s taste. (Don’t listen to them babies; you’re beautiful)

Now, although we find their earnest, goofy faces and tip-toe gait charming, we chose our Cornies not for their appearance but for their personalities. Affectionate, cuddly, and family-oriented do not even begin to describe our boys. I think their breeder said it best when she informed us that “These cats don’t just want to be under the covers with you, they want to be in your pajamas with you.”  She was right. I spend a fair deal of time with a cat up my sweater (or down my overalls) and choose my hoodies based on cat-accommodation potential.

What our breeder failed to tell us was that in addition to being cuddly and playful, Cornish Rex cats are crazy. Insane, bonkers, wonder-if-they’ve-been-possessed level crazy. Imagine a Siamese. Its a breed known for being curious, intelligent, and mischievous when bored, right? We should know, we’ve had two. Now give that Siamese twenty cans of Mountain Dew…and some coffee…and methamphetamine, and you might….might…get a picture of a Cornish Rex cat in the grip of the 10pm crazies. I count myself lucky that they sleep pretty much twenty hours a day.

So, without further ado, I give you my ever-evolving list of “Strange things I’ve had to say to my cats”

• Don’t lick the cheese-grater
• Don’t lick the knife
• That’s my avocado
• No, you can’t have my popcorn
• NO! My popcorn!
• Get out of (insert name here)’s shirt
• Maybe ask (insert name here) if she minds you crawling up her skirt?
• Why did you carry the drain-plug down the stairs?
• Where is my bookmark? What did you do with my bookmark?
• The GM’s screen is not your sworn enemy; leave it alone!
• Don’t eat the curtain/wooden spoon/stuffed animal/tooth pick/blanket!
• Did you eat my running sock?
• Get off the toaster!
• Get out of the frying pan!
• Aug! Did you sit in the curry?

Hey there!

Since this is my first post, I thought I’d take the time to tell you little bit about myself.

My name is Megan M. Davies-Ostrom. The M. stands for Myfanwy, and I’m not even going to get into how to pronounce it. It’s Welsh. Blame my parents.

If I’d been I boy I would have been Luke, apparently. Given that Star Wars came out when I was one, I guess I dodged a bullet on that one. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a HUGE fan, but also very happy to have escaped a life time of “Were you named after…?”

I’m a Canadian writer with a particular penchant for Adult and Young Adult horror, urban fantasy, and apocalyptic fiction…or, given my druthers, some weird and wonderful combination of all three.  I am a member of the Canadian Author’s Association.

For my day job (and yes, I definitely have one of those), I’m a Senior Performance Analyst with Canada’s Federal Civil Service. I have a Master’s Degree in Cultural Anthropology and have spent more than fifteen years working in intercultural settings.

As a voracious (and eclectic) reader, I think the best way to really get to know anyone is to talk about books, so without further ado, here are some woefully incomplete lists that will tell you (in no particular order) at least a little bit more about me.

Books I loved when I was young(er) and still hold a place in my heart:

• The Lord of the Rings by J.R. Tolkien
• The Coldfire Trilogy by C.S. Friedman
• The Last Herald-Mage Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey
• The Icewind Dale and Homeland Trilogies by R.A Salvatore (and yes, I TOTALLY had a crush on Drizzt when I was thirteen. I mean, who didn’t?)

Books I will (and do) reread endlessly

• The Foreigner Series by C.J. Cherryh
• The Shining by Stephen King (Actually, pretty much anything he’s written, but The Shining stands out as one of my favourites)
• The Relic, Reliquary, and Thunderhead by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child (As an anthropologist by training, I really enjoy these novels)
• World War Z by Max Brooks. (I’ve loved the zombie genre for years, for all the same reasons I like disaster movies, but this book was ground-breaking and, for better or for worse, brought the genre into the mainstream.
• Anything featuring the Witches or Guards by Terry Pratchett
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
• Patient Zero, Dead of Night, and Fall of Night by Jonathan Maberry
• 8.4 by Peter Hernon
• The Odd Thomas series by Dean Koontz
• Jurassic Park, The Lost World, and Congo by Michael Crichton
• Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer
• Rachel’s Holiday by Marion Keyes
• The Tony Foster books by Tanya Huff

Books and stories that left a footprint on my soul:

• The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
• The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell
• Nation by Terry Pratchett
• Boo by Neil Smith
• The Ruins by Scott Smith (I have a tattoo of the flowering vine from this novel on my back, so I guess I have to say it had an impact!)
• The Things they left behind (Short Story) by Stephen King

Books I just really like and don’t really fit into any other list here:

• The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
• Battle Royale by Koushun Takami
• The Locke and Key Graphic Novel Series by Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez
• The Courtney Crumrin Graphic Novel Series by Ted Naifeh

I’m not afraid of the dark unless, of course, I’m meant to be alone in it, and I’m not.