I’ve never been a big fan of horror movies; why would I want to pay someone to scare the daylights out of me? But when I was talking to Mallory O’Meara, author of “The Lady from the Black Lagoon,” she had a completely different — and logical — perspective.

“Horror is a weirdly calming, comforting place,” she said. “All of these monsters are metaphors for something bad, and we see them get destroyed. It’s cathartic.”

O’Meara is an author, screenwriter and producer, and a self-proclaimed lover of monsters and horror entertainment of all types. Her passion radiates through her projects and is on full display in “Lady,” a project she began because she couldn’t find enough information about one of her heroines in horror, Milicent Patrick.

Until recently (and I mean very recently, as in right around the time O’Meara’s book was published), Milicent Patrick had faded almost entirely away from the annals of monster movies and horror films. Yet, as O’Meara discovered and chronicles, Patrick was responsible for designing the Creature in the “The Creature from the Black Lagoon,” a beloved monster classic that filmed its underwater scenes just minutes away at Wakulla Springs.

Patrick’s Creature was possibly one of the most famous monsters of all time, yet her legacy was all but erased due to rampant sexism coupled with a male supervisor jealous of her star power. Women just weren’t in the horror industry, something O’Meara initially struggled with. Until, that is, she found an old photograph of Patrick working on the Creature suit. It was transformational.

“Seeing that photo was like seeing a doorway that had never been there before,” said O’Meara. “I realized I had a place, as a woman, in the industry. I hadn’t yet been able to visualize that future.”

It was this connection that propelled her through the challenges of writing “Lady”; O’Meara said it was at least three years of getting pushback from male historians, draining her bank accounts and researching Patrick so she could reverse engineer the story from little bread crumbs here and there.

Fortunately for the reader, O’Meara brings them along for the adventure, laying out the details of Patrick’s life while simultaneously working through the investigative journey (really, the book is worth the read for the snarky footnotes alone).

I now know more about monster movies and the horror genre than I ever thought possible, but now I also know about Milicent Patrick, an artist and a pioneer. And I have O’Meara to thank for that.

This article was first published in the Tallahassee Democrat.

In the wake of Harvey Weinstein, #MeToo and the fight for pay equality, more and more people are recognizing and discussing sexism as the deeply prevalent issue it is. But for many, this issue is one they’ve experienced, investigated, and studied for years. Kelly J. Baker, PhD, the editor of the feminist newsletter Women in Higher Education, is one of those people.

When I asked Baker, a Tallahassee resident who earned her doctorate in religious studies at Florida State University, which of her six books is her favorite, she didn’t hesitate.

“It’s this one,” she said. “I’m pretty proud of it, and it needed to be written.” She’s talking about Sexism Ed: Essays on Gender and Labor in Academia.

People imagine that because higher education is more progressive, more liberal, sexism isn’t as much of a problem; Baker said they’re wrong. The moment she knew gender was so important in the industry was when her request for paid maternity leave was turned down without a second thought.

“I was like, ‘Woah, there is an issue here about how women are treated,’” she said. “I needed to pay attention.’”

Baker said the more she looked into it, the more stories she heard. This was common, she realized. And it needed to be documented.

“If we can identify the problem, we can fix the system,” she said. “It’s not a lost cause.”

She’s telling me this while on a family camping trip in New Orleans, taking advantage of spring break. Her family, especially her kids, help her stay balanced, since she studies and writes about pretty heavy topics.

“I’m a pretty optimistic person, inherently hopeful,” she said. And she means it; she believes there is potential for change, for a better future. And with her persistence, her determination to look sexism in the face and study its causes and possible solutions, surely we’re already closer to that better future than we were before.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Cuba is a land that pulls you in, even if you’ve never been. Stories about the island’s culture blur fact and fiction; almost anything can be imagined without seeming too fantastic. All you need is somewhere to start.

For Frank Foster, that starting point was growing up hearing his parents tell stories about their visits to Cuba in the 1950s. “They just loved it,” he said. “Their stories got me intrigued, and I’ve always been a tropical person…”

Fresh from a week of bonefishing in the Bahamas, Foster is speaking to me about the genesis of his fourth novel, A Lady in Havana, written under the pseudonym Ashley Morgan. Using a pseudonym was a strategic decision for Foster—he believed no one would take a romantic mystery thriller seriously if the author was male. He plans to discuss this further when he visits Midtown Reader later this month, and he sent an email out to his friends and fans several weeks ago so they would understand the reasons behind his decision.

“Why would a woman buy this book from a man?” he asked, pointing out that the Wall Street Journal has written several articles examining this particular question. “And I was making a radical genre change, so it felt like the right decision.”

I asked him whether the email generated any specific feedback and he chuckled. “Well…” he said. “There were some humorous remarks from my old college roommate.”

Foster, who is the father of two well-known Tallahassee residents—Tallahassee Democrat publisher Skip Foster and Armor Realty broker Allyson Foster—is the author of three previous novels: two mystery thrillers and one straight thriller (all written under his real name). He said while he followed the accepted procedure of outlining the story for those first three books, Havana was different.

“This book just happened,” he said. “I sat down and wrote the damn thing. It just came.”

The most difficult part of writing this book was working out the technicalities of the language, specifically using the correct points of view for each character. One character only speaks in first person and another speaks in third person, but when they appeared together, it got a little more challenging.

But, Foster said, that’s to be expected. Writing is a craft and there’s an art to it; people frequently underestimate how hard you have to work at it to really create quality work. He mentioned his two mentors, Winston Groom (who wrote Forrest Gump) and Stewart Kaminsky (of Rockford Files), as being instrumental in his development as a writer. When I asked him what he would tell young authors looking for advice, he didn’t waiver.

“To the greatest extent possible, find a mentor,” he said.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

Tallahassee author John Fowler’s book, “A Forest in the Clouds: My Year Among the Mountain Gorillas in the Remote Enclave of Dian Fossey,” is just this side of scandalous. It’s a tell-all account that candidly exposes the truth about famed primate researcher Dr. Dian Fossey and her “difficult” personality.

“Amazon has it listed under primatology, but it’s really a memoir that happens to have gorillas in it,” said Fowler, wryly.

It’s this truth-telling, said Fowler, that has made his book unpopular with some — usually with those who still have favorable impressions of Fossey and her work studying the mountain gorillas in the Rwandan jungle.

The story is unsettling. It’s like the feeling you get when you finally address a well-known but uncomfortable truth everyone else would rather avoid.

And Fowler would know unsettling; he spent a year living in Fossey’s camp Karisoke, first trying to study the mountain gorillas with her, but ultimately just trying to survive the year.

“Dian was…difficult,” said Fowler. “And people tried to warn me. I can see that now, looking back on it. But it truly was the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Fowler was 23 when he traveled to Rwanda and Karisoke to spend the year studying gorillas with Fossey. Many research students only lasted a few weeks in camp. Fowler was determined to last at least a year, a resolve that was sorely tested time and again as he was berated, belittled and abused by the irascible and always unpredictable Fossey.

To the outside world, she was the researcher who doted on her gorillas from the pages of National Geographic; in camp she was volatile, prone to appropriating her students’ research and often resorting to violence to protect her fiefdom and her gorilla subjects.

The book is impossible to put down. I couldn’t stop reading about Fossey, the erratic anti-hero who often preferred gorilla vocalizations over human language to express her dissatisfaction with those around her (I mean, who does that?).

It helps that Fowler is a masterful storyteller, probably because the story is so personal to him. But you don’t have to take my word for it; Fowler will be in conversation with editor and anthologist Ann VanderMeer at Midtown Reader this Saturday.

This article was first published in the Tallahassee Democrat.

These days, Ruth Baumann is all about Joy, both figuratively and very literally. She’s working on her PhD in Creative Writing at Florida State University and her dissertation will focus on lighter themes than those for which she has been known in the past. And then there’s Joy, her tortoiseshell cat.

“She’s just perfect (side note: did she mean purrfect?),” laughs Baumann. “I’ve had her since she was about three days old and we’re very bonded. I’m obsessed.”

Baumann’s earlier body of work has been heavily influenced by trauma, primarily because for her, writing has been an outlet and a way to process her life experiences. She says she can only write about what she’s dealing with and growing through, and she had to write about difficult things to confront them. Fortunately, life hasn’t been that heavy lately.

“I wrote Parse about three or four years ago and by now I feel very differently,” she says. “I’m writing more about love and gratitude…and joy!”

Much of her gratitude and joy stems not only from her cat, but also from having a good community of friends around her in Tallahassee. Baumann is originally from northern Virginia and earned her Masters Degree from Tennessee, but she says the Creative Writing program at Florida State was the best to which she applied and she’s glad she’s here, with people around her who have become like family and who have taught her the values of love.

When I ask her why she writes poetry, she doesn’t hesitate.

“Poetry seems exactly like how I think and communicate: in blunt, clear bursts,” she says. “It’s a form of meditation for me, an honest self-reflection.”

However, she cautions, poetry is not for everyone.

“You have to really, really need poetry to follow it as a path, because it’s not practical. You have to feel very called to it.”

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

This Wednesday night, Midtown Reader will host Pam Houston, author of two novels, several collections of short stories and essays, and most recently, her memoir: Deep Creek. Houston’s work has been selected for numerous prestigious awards, and she is a Professor of English at UC Davis. For writers and lovers of writing, she’s kind of a big deal.

Houston is also friendly, accessible and down to earth. When she heard I wanted to interview her before her visit, she replied to my email immediately with her cell phone number and an invitation to call her that same day. She said she’s been to Tallahassee before and it’s a town she really likes, plus Sally’s excitement about her visit really sealed the deal.

“If someone [with an independent bookstore] is that enthusiastic, I want to make an effort,” said Houston. She’s making a road trip of it with a friend, and suddenly I realized I wanted desperately to tag along. Houston’s sense of adventure is that contagious, plus she’s exactly the kind of woman I’d want to be friends with, look up to and be inspired by.

Houston is a force. Her writing is uncomplicated but complex, and it pulls you in deeply. She has written extensively about strong women, beginning with Cowboys Are My Weakness and continuing with numerous books. I know absolutely nothing about whitewater rafting, hunting Dall sheep in Alaska or ranching, but as I was reading Cowboys, I wanted to be there.

I’m currently savoring Houston’s newest book, Deep Creek, which she will discuss at the Midtown Reader this week. Full disclosure – I had not finished Deep Creek (or even started it) before I spoke to Houston, but even though she must have realized this, she was still incredibly gracious on the phone. She talked about how deciding to purchase the Blair Ranch and its 120 acres felt like it was led by “fate, providence and the ghosts of old miners.” She said she was most surprised by how good it feels to be attached to a piece of ground and be responsible for it. And you can tell how much she loves her home; it shines through her voice when she talks about the aspens, the mountains, the joy she gets from getting up and feeding her animals every morning.

Another quality Houston seems to possess in spades is the willingness to invest in other writers, both through her teaching and workshops as well as through the unofficial ranching / writing residency she has established at the ranch. When Houston travels, her writing students take care of the ranch while working on their own projects. You can hear the pride in Houston’s voice when she talks about some of the projects that have come to life at the property, although she declined to disclose any favorites.

When I asked Houston what she would tell someone like her, someone looking for a piece of land to love and care for, someone looking for something, she didn’t hesitate.

“Take the advice of your neighbors,” she said. “Let your neighbors help you.”

This article was first published by Midtown Reader.

In just a few short years, Paloma Rambana of Tallahassee has accomplished so much it’s hard to remember she’s barely a teenager. At the age of nine, she helped successfully lobby the Florida Legislature for $1.25 million in funding for pre-teens with vision impairments. She’s been named a Health Hero by O Magazine and one of the New York Times’ 10 Kids Changing the World, as well as many other awards and recognition for her work. She’s met the cast of “Hamilton” and received a birthday card from Lin-Manuel Miranda. She’s also a published author; “Paloma’s Dream: The True Story of One Girl’s Mission to Help Kids, Inspire Activism and Survive Middle School” chronicles her journey through the past 13 years of her life, providing insight into what life has been like for Florida’s “littlest lobbyist.”

Just a few days after she was born, Paloma was diagnosed with Peters Anomaly, a condition that would have left her blind if untreated. Thanks to an iridectomy, a procedure that surgically creates new pupils, Paloma has some vision. She still relies on assistance from specialized equipment and has been working with her vision teacher since she was two months old. Through her lobbying efforts she is trying to address the funding gap for visually impaired children between the ages of six and 13; Paloma’s parents have paid for her equipment and teacher since she was six, but she knows there are many other children like her who don’t have access to the same resources. And while she did help secure $1.25 million to find the gap, she’s still working hard on the remaining $8.75 million.

Paloma talks about her accomplishments – lobbying, advocacy, writing a book – with a blend of self-awareness, self-consciousness and just a tiny amount of amazement. She says seeing people connect with her book gives her so much joy because she didn’t believe her story was unique, and she hopes it will remind readers that there is no such thing as an overnight success.

The Midtown Reader will host Paloma this Saturday, February 9, to talk about her book and about her writing process. Here’s what she had to say leading up to the event:

Why write a book?

I think writing is a wonderful gateway to share ideas. I’ve always wanted to write stories; I didn’t think it would be my story, but it’s been wonderful.

What was the most valuable part of the writing process for you?

Telling my story took me on a trip down memory lane, finding things that brought me so much joy. It showed me where I went.

What should someone thinking about writing a book try NOT to do?

Don’t second guess yourself, and don’t wait until you think you have a better story or you don’t have enough experiences to write about. Failure is necessary – if everyone published their first draft, the world would be terrible!

Best writing advice?

Embrace your failures. They’re there to guide you so you don’t repeat past mistakes.

This article was first published by Midtown Reader