Stacia Kane

STACIA KANE knows where she was yesterday and knows where she is now, but where she’ll be tomorrow she has no idea. She’s a rambler, a wild thing, a lone wolf–
Okay, she’s a married mother of two, an American currently living in England. But everybody’s gotta have dreams, right?

She also writes erotic romance under the name December Quinn.

Interview

1. What makes you think you can write?

The little gremlins in my head tell me I can’t, but I keep plugging anyway. Gremlins aren’t always right.

2. Clearly you need some sort of creative outlet to keep you out of trouble. If it weren’t writing what would it be?

Hmm. When I was pregnant with my second I couldn’t write, I was totally blocked. I did a lot of crafts and stuff then. I knitted, sewed, embroidered and read Tarot cards (which I still do.) I can play a few Ramones and Sex Pistols songs on the guitar. Like the rest of the world, I like photography and taking pictures. So any of those, except guitar because playing well meant I had to keep my fingernails too short.

3. Who or what influences your work?

James Brown.
Oh, man. I don’t know. All sort of things. Barbara Michaels writes my favorite heroines—the heroine in Personal Demons is called Meg because so many Michaels heroines are, so that’s a tip of my miniscule hat to a master. Joss Whedon, of course. Jane Austen. Marion Keyes. Elizabeth Gaskell, The Brontes, Virginia Coffman, Victoria Holt, Mary Stewart—I love gothics and try to bring that sort of structure and pervading sense of creepiness to my books (and I love Byronic heroes, although mine don’t go quite that far). Really, any writer who writes women who actually think and behave like actual people, and not just weak puffballs driven by pure emotion.

I love the idea of hidden worlds nobody knows about, and of secrets.

4. Do you remember a favorite ghost story or scary urban legend from childhood? Well, spill it.

Oh boy. Are you sure? Because you might not sleep at night after hearing this sublime tale of terror.

When I was at Girl Scout camp, one night everyone went out to actually camp—not in our cabins, but in hammocks in the trees. The counselors chose this night to tell us about that terror of the camp—the Lat Monster.

Supposedly he was the bastard child of a raped nun—just like Freddy Krueger! (although this was before that third Nightmare film came out)—whose kneecaps were on the wrong way, so he couldn’t walk, only hop from place to place like a terrifying, insane cannibalistic rabbit (He was a hopping CHUD!). He lived in a basement, where they threw raw meat to him and never cleaned his floor. So when the church burned down and he escaped, what felt more like home than the latrines at the nearby Girl Scout camp?
He lived down there, and waited to catch some poor Girlie Scoutie unawares, so he could yank her down the hole, rip her to pieces, and eat her.

Oh, I’m fully aware of how absolutely ridiculous this story is now. But when I was 12 and out in the woods, it scared me to death.

I also particularly enjoyed a story about a girl who wore a nightgown with a fuzzy collar, and her friends discovered she’d been beheaded by the Crazed Sleepover Serial Killer by reaching for her and feeling only… the furry collar.

5. Name one thing we might not know about you and would be surprised to find out (keep it clean too, you dirty bird this is a family blog).

Um…honestly, I’m pretty much an open book. No secrets here, especially not about actually having been a Girl Scout for a year! Ha! Ha! There are no bodies in the yard! Ha! Ha!

6. I tell people that if they like _______, then they’ll love me.

Themselves. Doesn’t true love come from within?

7. Since you make stuff up all the time, I assume you were a great liar as a child. Tell us one.

I was the fifth Beatle.