I wrote this article about the writing of my third novel, Something Out
There, for After Hours magazine's "Subway Graffiti" column
back in 1991. It gives some insight into how I came up with the idea for this
strange story of a tribe of changeling creatures on a Tennessee mountain.
SUBWAY GRAFFITI: Writing Something Out There
By Ronald Kelly
When folks ask me where I get the ideas for my novels, I can usually
give them a straight answer. In the case of my first novel, Hindsight, I
drew on family history, as well as my mother's psychic experiences as a
child and a grisly triple-murder that actually happened some fifty years
ago. As for my second book, PITFALL, I contribute my interest in Indian
folklore and real-life Tasmanian devils for the cultivation of that
particular premise.
But when anyone asks where I got the idea for my newest novel, Something
Out There, I just shake my head and say, "Your guess is as good as
mine." Simply put, the idea for the novel came rather unremarkably
and unexpectedly one night as I lay in bed waiting to fall asleep. It
has happened before with short story plots. Sometimes a gem of an idea
will suddenly some to me during that light limbo between drowsy
wakefulness and deep sleep. But it had never taken place with such
forceful imagery or on such a widespread scale. The general foundation
of the novel was laid that night and, by the end of the following day, I
nearly had the entire plot fleshed out, along with the cast of
characters and the rural setting in which the story would take place.
The premise of Something Out There involves a species of strange
creatures on a Tennessee mountain, who can physically change form at
will. The majority of the inhabitants are passive albinos. But there is
a single exception in the bunch; a pitch black creature called the
Dark'Un who can turn into all sorts of nightmarish creations and is
aggressive enough to protect its fellow changelings from the threat of
the outside world.
(Incidentally, the novel was originally titled The Dark'Un, but the
hierarchy at Zebra Books decided the title was too Southern to appeal to
a widespread audience). The conflict of the novel comes when an
exploitative corporation named Eco-Plenty cheats the mountain property
out of the possession of its owner, Fletcher Brice, soon resulting in
the old man's death and a scheduled invasion by logging and coal-mining
crews. But before the corporation can strip the mountain of its natural
resources and endanger the albino changelings, the residents of the
small town of Tucker's Mill join forces with the dreaded Dark'Un to put
a stop to Eco-Plenty's ruthless intentions.
After developing the general plot, the novel seemed like a fairly simple
premise to work from. But when I began the actual writing, I found it to
be a much more complex process than I first suspected. Before I was
through, Something Out There would turn out to be my most lengthy novel
so far, and an exercise in imagination in the truest sense.
The setting of the novel was my native state of Tennessee. Although my
short stories generally encompass the entire territory of Dixie, I
prefer to use Tennessee as the locale of my book-length works, mainly
because I know the state better than any other. I've come to find that
the old adage of "writing what you know about" is a wise and
valid one.
Also it cuts down on the amount of hard research I have to do to make
the setting authentic. In the case of Pitfall, I had to do quite a bit
of research, since I've never actually visited West Texas and was
unfamiliar with the locale. But for Something Out There, I drew from
personal experience. I've visited the main settings---the city of
Memphis and the Tennessee Appalachians---several times in the past and
have a pretty good feel for the territory. The town of Tucker's Mill and
the key location of Pale Dove Mountain are fictional places, while other
locations mentioned in the book, like Knoxville, Gatlinburg, and the
Little River are actual sites. Tucker's Mill is a composite of numerous
rural communities I've passed through while traveling the state---the
proverbial "one-horse town" that consists solely of a general
store, a scattering of residential homes, and a church or two.
The characters of the novel also had their basis in fact. As in my other
fiction, I tend to construct my characters from family members, past
acquaintances, and interesting people I've encountered over the years.
Fletcher and Jenny Brice were composites of folks I've met in the past;
parents and children bound by kinship, but as different from one another
as night and day. The character of Miss Mable was a mixture of my
grandmothers---one kind and gentle, the other feisty and rambunctious -
while Sheriff Gart Mayo was a combination of my paternal grandfather and
a local sheriff in my home county, both now deceased. Rowdy Hawkens was
derived from the crop of young country singers that have grown abundant
in Nashville lately; sort of a cross between Randy Travis and Hank
Williams Jr. The characters of the widowed Glen Tucker and his son,
Dale, had a personal connection, for they experienced---and survived -
the tragic loss of a loved one, just as my own father and I did during
the time that novel was written.
The threat to Pale Dove Mountain---Jackson Dellhart and the fictitious
Eco-Plenty Corporation---was inspired by a very real and serious threat
that faces us today; corporate juggernauts who put more stock in profit
than in preserving the sanctity of the ecology. I'm certainly not a
bleeding-heart activist, but there are important world matters that I
tend to explore every so often in my fiction. While it wasn't
intentional during the actual writing of the book, the theme of
ecological preservation and the protection of endangered species do play
an important part in the plot. It seems like an especially timely
subject with the recent celebration of Earth Day, and with more and more
horror writers exploring the theme. Jackson Dellhart is the epitome of
the corporate executive who uses his wealth and power for his own
selfish gains. And the instruments he uses to achieve his goal---the
criminal Stoogeone Brothers, the big-game hunter Wainwright, and Frag
Hendrix and his band of mercenaries---are cut of the same cloth as
Dellhart, and therefore deserve the amount of trouble they encounter
when they attempt to take Pale Dove Mountain by force.
The strangest characters in the book are the changelings themselves. The
albinos strive to find a peaceful solution to the invasion that has
engulfed their mountain home. The characterization of the Dark'Un is the
most intriguing. The dark creature is violent and destructive toward
those who would harm the mountain and its inhabitants, but the key to
the Dark'Un's aggressive behavior is revealed at the close of the novel,
shedding light on the monster's true nature. The creature's ability to
change into any form presented some unique opportunities for myself as a
horror writer, allowing some very surreal and gruesome scenes to take
place. During the course of the novel, the Dark'Un changes into
everything from classic movie monsters and prehistoric beasts, to wild
animals and terrifying incarnations of military vehicles. In one scene,
the Dark'Un shows up at a local beer joint in the form of Black Gart, a
nightmarish hybrid of town sheriff and B-movie cowboy; sort of a
Hopalong Cassidy from hell.
I did have to do some research for the various forms that the Dark'Un
and its fellow creatures changed into throughout the book. I had to
explore subjects like paleontology, wildlife, sports, movie trivia, and
military equipment; each vastly different in content, but all of them
important to the collective work of Something Out There. Some subjects
were second nature to me, mainly because they have been genuine
interests of mine for a number of years. Dinosaurs and horror trivia
came more easily than other subjects, since I pretty much grew up with
movie monsters and lumbering prehistoric beasts foremost in my
imagination. The incorporation of military hardware and tactics also
came naturally. I've never served in the armed forces, but during the
"redneck period" in my younger years I was an avid gun
collector and armchair survivalist. Therefore, the inclusion of civilian
and military weapons came across as accurately as possible, especially
consider the faux pas that some writers use out of ignorance, most
noteworthy being nonexistent devices such as the revolver safety and
double-barreled pump shotguns.
By the time I had finished the novel, I discovered something else that I
hadn't foreseen when I first began. Unknowingly, I had written a
three-genre novel, combining horror, fantasy, and science fiction. My
editor at Zebra Books, Wendy McCurdy, was a bit skeptical at first. Some
publishers regard cross-genre novels with the uneasiness of side show
customers gawking at a two-headed calf. But after reading the novel, my
publisher saw the appeal of the book and---much to my relief---scheduled
it for March of 1991. I owe a debt of gratitude to the folks at Zebra
for pretty much giving me the freedom to experiment with my fiction and
explore any topic I want to. It has made the experience of becoming a
pro writer that much easier and more enjoyable.
As for how the whole thing turned out, I'll let my readers be the judge
of that. No writer can predict the success or failure of his or her own
work, just like no artist or film director can predict whether their
creation will sink or swim. All they can do is walk around in the skins
of their characters for a while and pray that the melding of pages and
chapters conjures the intended effect. Hopefully, Something Out There
will do the trick for fans of horror and fantasy, and will provide a few
chills and thrills along the way.
This article appeared in AFTER HOURS #10 in the spring of 1991.
