Gallery: Voices in the Briars

RELEASE DATE: Nov. 1, 2024 (pre-order)

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While ghosts top my list of favorite supernatural archetype (would ghosts actually be referred to as an archetype?), vampires come a close second. Their deep roots in folklore work like a siren's call in my case as I've always been fascinated with folklore and how it shaped a culture's traditions, etc. Superstitions and the beliefs surrounding death and the afterlife, the darker side of those things, and what people did to protect themselves from evil -- all pretty much come together in a way that really stir my love of gothic horror. 

an abandoned building (likely AI-generated)
that I used as the inspiration for Dávid's new home

I do regret not studying folklore in my university days, but books abound, and that's all I need. And speaking of folklore, how about those old timey fairy tales, eh? There are so many of those that never / rarely get the spotlight they deserve what with so much attention being heaped on "Snow White", "Sleeping Beauty", "Cinderella", and "Beauty and the Beast" to name a few. One of my favorites is "Bluebeard", and while it's enjoyed a fair bit of attention over the years with retellings and updated adaptations, it's never really risen high up the ranks compared to those I've mentioned. For good reason, I think. 

"Bluebeard's Secret Chamber" by Matt Mahurin

"Bluebeard" is exceptionally dark, and the outright misogyny of the plot inviting a good deal of analysis. What I wanted to do when I decided to take this story on for a gothic horror book is to shift attention from the original fairy tale's bleak treatment of women to the disturbing mindset toward people born with disabilities as being lesser and therefore disposable. See: the public mockery of disabled people in Trump political rallies. And even outside those things, there are day-to-day microaggressions endured by disabled folks, whether those are intentional or not. 

portrait of William Butler Yeats by John Singer Sargent
(how I pictured Lóránt at 18)

The legend of Elizabeth Báthory was my other primary inspiration for this book's plot, and I combined both her story (the rumors of her crimes, which were apparently based on nothing but hearsay) and the otherness endured by children born with disabilities. Lóránt Kárpáthy was born mute in that he was born with a biological condition (not specified in the book) that made him unable to speak or form sounds other than wheezes when he's crying. His silence was my take on the original fairy tale's theme of female obedience and subjugation. Lóránt can't talk, so he can't argue back without straining himself with his use of sign language (or manualism in more traditional terms). 

Elizabeth Báthory

The combination of the Báthory legend and the role of St. Jerome's orphans -- specifically the reserves -- came together very smoothly and seemed to be a no-brainer in the way they just fit into each other, plot-wise. And in that way, I was able to explore one of my favorite subjects to shred in fiction form: the privileged predator and monster. A lot of my books revolve around that character type, and I don't think I'll ever be done with it, no matter how many books I've written. 

the Château de Vigny, which was my
inspiration for the count's haunted manor house

The book's setting being in a 19th century fantasy Hungary (or Kingdom of Hungary during this period in history) is a nod to Elizabeth Báthory. The location of St. Jerome's orphanage and the vampire's manor house are purposefully vague and lacking in a solid place compared to references elsewhere to specific cities in Poland. That's my attempt at making the story read like a fairy tale and not something that's clearly based on historical events, which I think works well in highlighting the darkly fantastic moments throughout the book. 

My focus on the childhood bond between Dávid Bódnar and Lóránt Kárpáthy was based on references to an Estonian variant of the "Bluebeard" fairy tale, but I couldn't find any text online other than a brief entry about it. 

In an Estonian version, the wife is rescued by a gooseherd (or a page), a childhood friend who slays her husband and marries her.

And that was all I had to go by, but it was enough for me to do something with it, which led to the book focusing on Dávid and Lóránt from beginning to end. For musical inspiration, I honestly had so many songs on my playlist for this book that it's difficult choosing what best represents the story, so I'll stick to this gorgeous interpretation of Prokofiev's "Dance of the Knights", which I used for inspiration when I wrote the ballroom scene:

It's a bummer the video got cut off and doesn't show the entire sequence of that scene in the ballet. Voices in the Briars is a 50,000-word long novella and is available in e-book at 99 cents and in print at $9.00.