Religion and racism: two things that help create evil in my novel Dandelion.

Of my thirteen prior novels, eight of them were set in the American South. It’s where I grew up and lived for the first forty years of my life, from Tennessee down to the Gulf Coast. It’s a place I know better than any other. And because of that, I believe that it’s impossible to write about the south in any genre, including horror like my upcoming novel DANDELION, without dealing with two things: race, and religion.

Religion? That’s easy. The region has always been known as the Bible Belt, not so much for its devoutness, but for its insistence on appearing devout. The largest denomination, Southern Baptist, is rife with hypocrisy and sex-related misdeeds, as highlighted in recent news stories. The smaller ones are often fiefdoms run by iron-fisted despots. And most of them have no trouble endorsing (failed) Georgia gubernatorial candidate Kandiss Taylor’s campaign slogan of “Jesus, Guns, Babies.”

Are there sincere Christians? Yes, of course. I’ve been fortunate enough to know a few who truly tried to walk with Christ. But they’re rare as the proverbial hen’s teeth or frog’s hair. Most see their Christianity as a shield to hide their racism, misogyny and homophobia, and if that sounds harsh, well, ask other people who’ve grown up with it.

In my novel Dandelion, religion is real. There is a God. Demons exist. And there are religious people both sincere and phony. I’ve tried to recreate the feeling of various manifestations of religion, so that the reader gets a sense of what it’s like in those small churches and revival tents. 

And as for racism…

That the south is racist is not new, or news. When I was growing up, it was just as racist as it is today, but there was at least a sense of shame about it. One woman I worked with swore that Black people met in their churches to discuss ways to make work more difficult for white people, but she only spoke about it in low, secretive tones. I had an aunt who unrepentantly named her black dog the “n” word, but they lived in the country and would never bring the dog into town. And my family’s church was outraged when our new pastor invited a black family to attend services, but they insisted it wasn’t racism, just the lack of consideration for the congregation’s “old-timers.” Nowadays, when racism and racists are right out there on the lawns, pickup trucks, and social media, none of these things are hidden.

So in Dandelion, racism, like religion, is real, and some characters are blatant racists. And their racism is not defended or glorified but rather depicted, in all its horror and vileness, as realistically as possible. Some readers may assume that if a white author depicts racism, it means the author condones it, but that’s not the case. I lived in these places, with these people, and if you’ll notice, the characters espousing these views are the bad guys. 

So even though Dandelion is a horror novel, with all the violence, sex, and spooky shit that the genre demands (and that, quite frankly, is part of the fun of writing it), it’s set against a social background that’s as real as I can make it. And that’s where the true evil grows.

Preorder Dandelion before its release here. It hits stores and devices October 1. Perfect for those Halloween stockings! (Not a thing? Should be a thing.)

One Comment on “Religion and racism: two things that help create evil in my novel Dandelion.”

  1. I grew up in Wisconsin, and the racism there was also very real. I agree that wherever we are in the United States today, the racists and misogynists and xenophobes felt they were given license by Donald Trump, their savior, to be blatant about their hatred rather than whispering nasty things to other white people they assumed would agree with them.

    Meanwhile, Eat, Drink and Be Grumpy in Mt. Horeb! I haven’t read ANY of your books but I’m looking at The Hum and the Shiver for a library Veterans’ Day display. Love the title of Sword-Edged Blonde, too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.