Interview: Meg Ripley on NECROLOGY
Feminist folk horror in an alternate history—200 years after the Salem witch trials.
“I like ugly pretty stuff—and scary sweet things—and above all else, a good story.”
The debut adult horror novel from author Meg Ripley—Necrology—is part one in a duology being published by Creature Publishing, an up-and-coming feminist horror press. In a fantastical aftermath of the Salem witch trials, magical women known as the Dirty have signed a contract swearing off their innate magic in exchange for freedom from violence by non-magical Freemen.
Two hundred years later, in a Catskills orphanage, headmistress Whitetail has sprouted antlers—proof of a violated contract. When her wealthy benefactor visits, proposing marriage, her appearance sparks abuse. Rushing to her teacher’s defense, eight-year-old Rabbit curses the Beard dead, and Whitetail’s arrested on trumped-up charges.
As Whitetail awaits her trial and execution, Rabbit is groomed as the Freemen’s star witness and learns of the terrifying reality to which they aspire. With her magic at stake and a loose tooth in her mouth, Rabbit has little left to lose. And a revolution to gain…
In our exclusive interview, Ripley tells Monster Complex how Necrology sets up the bigger picture, some of her favorite horror fiction, and how her book impacts particular kinds of readers.
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Interview: Meg Ripley on NECROLOGY
Q: What is your favorite thing about your book Necrology?
My favorite thing about Necrology are its sections of invented folklore. When I sat down for this one, I promised myself I’d indulge in something authentically me. A window into my brain.
The lore in Necrology’s worldbuilding allowed the opportunity to build out an aesthetic that was the most Meg thing I’d ever composed. The opportunity to say, just have at it, who cares, dream up what you want, we’ll make it true in the end, was liberating. Mrs. Andrews’ backstory, the four Dirty consents, the book’s fragments of parables, snippets of Dirty and Blackbook religions—I’m proud of them all. They were doodles slapped down from my brain that I made true.
I know Roald Dahl’s The Witches is a kid’s book, but Erica’s story, (the girl trapped in a painting by a witch), scares me still! It was that level of strangeness that I aimed for in my book. I hope the fun I had writing Necrology translates to an enjoyable read. It certainly establishes the type of book I’d like readers to seek from me.
Q: This is #1 in a series—so where does this series go, and how does this first book set it up?
Women weighing out the sacrifice of their spirits to protect their bodies is a major theme in Necrology. The question of these women’s survival, whether it’s worth it to spend spirit to keep their bodies upright in a patriarchy insistent on chipping at their entire identity, begs for an answer: revolution. These women’s alternative after all, is death.
In the case of Woodfeast, book two, the ongoing revolution would promise self-determination. In a world where all nominees on the electoral ballot refuse to recognize women’s need for bodily autonomy, it’s up to our heroes to balance democracy by adding a representative to said ballot.
The question “When is a good time for a revolution,”—answered in book one’s resolution—will become expounded upon with a new question, “What happens when a generations-long-overdue revolution devolves into revenge. And is that productive?”
Q: What are your favorite kinds of horror fiction? How does it inspire you when writing your own horror fiction?
I’ve always loved horror! Slasher, zombie, psychological, dark fantasy, I’ve always been a fan. I devour anything and am loyal to no one, but I do believe my love of horror stems from movies that scared me as a kid.
As a child of the ‘80s, I grew up on films like Ray Bradbury / Disney’s Something Wicked This Way Comes (1983), Young Sherlock Holmes (1985), and a lot of Jim Henson. The Dark Crystal (1982) was formative for me. (Yes, some sections of it are horror.) I’ve seen it countless times and the Skeksis character design is why I became an artist. Those monsters! That film, above any other, sparked my love of dark fantasy.
If I had to pick the type of horror fiction that stays with me the longest, that I appreciate most these days, they’re works that blur reality in some significant way. Maybe it’s not having one interpretation that keeps me wondering––and worrying.
Many of Paul Tremblay’s books do this. Disappearance at Devil’s Rock is probably my favorite? Maybe it’s the mom factor, I’m not sure. The heartbreaking story of a kid’s innocent friendship (gone awry), his devolution, the feeling of teenage curiosity turned to despair, all wrapped up in a question mark of what really (really) happened—it’s perfect for me. I adore all Tremblay’s books. Head Full of Ghosts, Cabin, but that one especially stays with me––the ambiguity of it all. I love me some loose ends!
Clay McLeod Chapman’s literary folk-horror, What Kind of Mother did this perfectly for me. I read it last year. The plot, where you think it’s going versus where it takes you. It’s a ride! (I loved it so much, so I hassled him for a blurb.)
Luke Dumas’ A History of Fear is amazing at this as well. It dovetails trauma-furled delusion and heartbreaking reality masterfully.
Catriona Ward’s Last House on Needless Street is chef’s kiss at this too.
As an adult, I lean into films with this same open-to-interoperation-style. (One of my earliest loves in this vein was the movie Jacob’s Ladder (1990).)
Robert Eggers’ films are so incredible in this way. Ari Aster, too.
Curious endings have always been the most fulfilling to me as a consumer. It’s so refreshing to not always be aiming for a pretty-bow-ending. I love to wonder long after I’ve closed the book/ film credits. And as a creator, it’s works in this vein that I’ve had the best time writing. Necrology’s ending was no exception.
Come to think of it, Mrs. Andrews is just a Skeksi in a flesh suit…
Q: What are your pet peeves about horror fiction? And how do you avoid putting the same kind of stuff in your own fiction?
I love this question. My pet peeves? I never pretend to know more about horror and what an author ‘should have done’ in their work, but as a consumer, I do know when I’ve been misled.
My pet peeve would be the inability to follow through with a promise to the reader. “Bad horror”/B movies can be so f’ing great—as long as that was the promise. Kitsch, cliché, predictable, even derivative, I’m here for it as long as that’s what you sold me. It was your promise to me.
Maybe it’s my heavy art background, but things don’t need to be packaged a certain way by a fancy press or tick boxes to be successful. Success is delivery of a concept. I hope that my musings on love, found family, and change, are successfully received by readers. (They’ll have to let me know.)
Q: Necrology is being published by Creature Publishing, which describes itself as a “feminist horror press.” And you told me that Necrology is thematically about “woman as monster.” Writing the novel, did you start with the theme and build the story around it... or did you start with the story and that’s where it went?
A feminist horror press! Creature is only a few years old at this point, but oh, it’s an honor to be a part of their catalog. Stories that explore the want for equality, that subvert misogynistic tropes, told by storytellers of all backgrounds? Creature shouldn’t be the outlier that it is. I’m proud to be a part of Creature, and it's amazing to feel as valued as I do, even as a gal-nobody creator.
Necrology was written at the start of the pandemic. Those early pandemic days were filled with #metoo, Weinstein, and news of women dying because they’d become locked inside with the men who loved them, their abusers. A world where unmagical men are scared of magical women seemed timely, even if packaged as a historical.
The first line of chapter one was the first line I conceived of Necrology, and it never changed. It describes two children, Rabbit and Rook, playing at a curse in the mud.
When I pressed space, ready for line two, I knew the stakes for the children’s curse had to be high enough that the reader would be curious about the legitimate consequence of their failure. Their stakes? Protecting Whitetail, a woman so typically steadfast to her principles she’s almost saintly, but whose recent transformation speaks to a possible moral downfall.
Just one downfall ruining a woman, you ask? Honestly, it didn’t seem like a stretch to me. The impending visit by a man who would scrutinize Whitetail’s appearance, see her form as proof of non-compliance to his rule, it’s what the kids are so darned scared of.
It was a moment to shine a light on the uncomfortable, but traditional pattern, of boys being allowed to make mistakes. And women’s non-conforming to a man’s-word-standard as some sort of middle-finger-defiance instead of the simple self-expression that it is. Building out the other layers of what caused Whitetail’s appearance came from there.
It seemed so valiant. Rabbit and Rook want to protect Whitetail, despite how strange her appearance has become. It speaks to a child’s unwavering love for their mother, while simultaneously showcasing how children can excuse what might later, as adults, be identified as trauma.
I’m a huge fan of M. R. Carey’s The Girl With All The Gifts, and the relationship between Melanie and Miss. Justineau heavily inspired Rabbit and Whitetail’s relationship. A monster and her admirer. I aimed for the same in this book.
Q: How much is Necrology for a particular audience?
This is a tough one. I’m positive that most, if not all writers long for mass appeal! However, within a few pages of Necrology, the world will likely be aware of my stance on women’s bodies and disdain for any government regulation of them. Can a willing reader separate their own politics from the book they’re reading becomes the real question.
One of the first comments I got on this book was that Whitetail wasn’t young enough to experience physical violence, or pretty enough to experience sexual violence. That’s untrue on both counts, isn’t it. My takeaway is, the book’s loaded with enough challenging food for thought for any reader in any political party.
Q: What are the best ways for readers to stay in touch and keep up with your latest author news?
I’m most active on Instagram, @what.the.horror, but also update my website often, mripley.com. Readers are welcome to reach out to my email, mripley (at) mripley.com!
Q: Are you the same “Meg Ripley” who wrote all those books with shirtless men on the covers?
I refer to Other-Meg-Ripley as “prolific Meg.” She’s a far faster writer than me and very established in her genre, Romance!
Alas, I’m not her. What’s incredible is how hard a time the internet has with keeping our identities separated. My face was the profile pic of Other-Meg’s Goodreads profile for years. I went back and forth with Google for months to get my picture unaffiliated with her properties.
Again, with the publication of Necrology, my book was assigned to her accounts. This is remedied now, thank goodness. (Publishing under my middle name wasn’t an option, it’s Jeanne.)
My husband, Steve, likes to joke that Other-Meg-Ripley is soft-core Meg, while I’m hardcore. Makes me laugh every time. I haven’t read her work yet, but that’s not because I’m not excited to! I 100% will, and I wish her all the happy success as we co-exist in this writerly space together!
Find more Meg Ripley Online
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