Hyper intensive horror with no limits–that’s how I’ve seen splatterpunk defined. Graphic, gory, gut-wrenching, stomach-turning. If done well, Splatterpunk fiction is visceral and upsetting. It is even more divisive than a presidential campaign, creating dedicated fans or outright haters. Critics keep claiming the genre is as dead as some of its victims, yet it persists, filling readers with graphicscenes of blood.
So what’s a good lil’ girl like me doing writing such awful stuff?
Well to be fair, I don’t really write splatterpunk completely. I write about torture, yes, and snuff and kinky sex, but my line walks a fine balance between being terrifying and horrific. I don’t delve into the bloody little details that define most splatterpunk stories. Instead of showing you outright, I’d rather tease you with tiny glimpses of what’s happening. It’s a bit like a burlesque for bloodletting; I hint at what could be, and I let your mind fill in the details. I have no doubt it’s up to the challenge …
And then sometimes I just let the guts fly.
Right now I’m putting the finishing touches on my latest project, a three-part serial novel called ”The Midnight Dinner Party.” I will be publishing it soon, and it does involve some torture. But is it splatterpunk? I’ll let you decide once you read it!