Some musings on the writing of The House On The Moor
A SCOTTISH GOTHIC NOVELLA
Scotland, a misty moor, an old crumbling manor house, an owner with a scandalous secret, and something skittering in the rafters of the library – you’ll find them all here.
… along with more than a hint of a Hammer Horror or two
I’d wanted to do an old style gothic novella for a while, so when I was asked to write a traditional Scottish haunted house story I jumped at the chance.
A lot of my work, long and short form, has been set in Scotland, and much of it uses the history and folklore. There’s just something about the misty landscapes and old buildings that speaks straight to my soul. Bloody Celts. We get all sentimental at the least wee thing.
I grew up on the West Coast of Scotland in an environment where the supernatural was almost commonplace.
My grannie certainly had a touch of the sight, always knowing when someone in the family was in trouble. There are numerous stories told of family members meeting other, long dead, family in their dreams, and I myself have had more than a few encounters with dead family, plus meetings with what I can only class as residents of faerie. I have had several precognitive dreams, one of which saved me from a potentially fatal car crash.
I’ve also been influenced by many Scottish writers. Stevenson in particular is a big influence. He is a master of plotting, and of putting innocents into situations far out of their usual comfort zones while still maintaining a grounding in their previous, calmer, reality. His way with a loveable rogue in Treasure Island and Kidnapped in particular always captivates me. Other Scottish writers who have influenced me include Arthur Conan Doyle, John Buchan, Iain Banks and, more in my youth than now, Alistair MacLean and Nigel Tranter. From them all I learned how to use the scope of both the Scottish landscape and its history while still keeping the characters alive.
Some more of the inspiration comes from the countryside, the history and weather. All those lonely hillsides, stone circles, ancient buildings and fog are ripe for stories to be creeping about in.
Then there’s all the fighting. A country that’s seemingly been at war with either somebody else or with itself for most of its existence can’t help but be filled with stories of love and loss, heroism and betrayal.
The fact that we’ve always been England’s scruffy wee brother, and have been slightly resentful of the fact for centuries adds another layer, the wee chip on the shoulder and the need to prove yourself is always a good place from which to start an adventure.
Added to that that we’re a melting pot of Lowlander’s, Highlanders, Islanders, Scandinavians, Picts, Irish, Dutch, English, Indians, Pakistanis and Chinese and everybody else who has made their way to the greatest wee country in the world, all with their own stories to tell and to make.
And when it’s raining and dreich, what better than to sit by a fire with a stiff drink and tell some stories?
But the main inspiration for this one isn’t Scottish at all. The ‘feel’ of it comes straight from Dennis Wheatley. Back in my early teens, in those pre Stephen King days, Wheatley was king of horror, in Britain at least, and I eagerly devoured them all, as well as instantly falling in love with THE DEVIL RIDES OUT movie. His upper-crust Satanist-hunter characters didn’t really gel with wee council scheme me, but the black magic high jinks stuck, and it’s that sense of dread that seeped into this novella.
It plays in my head like a Hammer Horror movie. I can see Cushing and Lee as the two brothers in the flashback scenes and Cushing as the old worried man as the thing scuttles among the books in the library. You too could have fun with your fantasy casting of the other roles… got to get Michael Rimmer in their somewhere…
I live in hope of some British film producer stumbling across this work and thinking that they too would like a go at recreating the Hammer magic with it.
It’s a dream I have.
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