I love when people read my stories. It’s a great feeling. But it aggravates me when people read more into them than there is. And not just my stories, but any story.
For example, when someone says they know what I was going for, or my use of this to symbolize that, or I see the world this way…Come on! Stop reading more into it than I wrote. I’m not using anything to symbolize anything. I’m never ‘going for’ anything other than a good, scary story. That’s it. Sorry to disappoint you if you thought I was deeper than that. In my whole life, there’s only one thing I’ve ever written that had more than one meaning. It’s a poem called Hope. That’s it. Everything else I write is nothing more than a story. A story I’ve made up completely. Don’t waste your time searching for metaphors and similes and meaningful representations because you will find none.
I’m intrigued by the way people can become monsters. Anyone at anytime can cross the line that separates us from them – the psychopaths, the sociopaths, the serial killers. They become the stuff of nightmares and good horror stories. That’s the only thing I’ve ever tried to convey to my readers. I don’t believe in writing hidden meanings or using one thing to mean another. I tell it like it is. I’m a writer, and as a writer, I don’t have to write in riddles. I can just be blunt. It’s a perk of the job.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe subconsciously, I do write that way. But if I do, it’s completely accidental. I’m simply telling you a story. So please, for me, stop being so overly analytical. The picture I paint isn’t one that you must cross your eyes in order to see the 3D image behind the image. Just look at the picture and move on. Thanks. 🙂