Grief, Loss, and Unsettling Horror
Night Time Logic is a term for the parts of a story that are felt but not consciously processed. It is also the name of this interview series here at Cemetery Dance online and over on my YouTube channel, where we explore the night time part of stories, the strange and uncanny in horror, dark fiction, and more.
My latest book, Phantom Constellations: Strange Tales and Ghost Stories, out now from Cemetery Dance Publications, is full of subtle, strange, and intentionally ambiguous tales that operate with Night Time Logic.
I met author Emma E. Murray at the Indie Book Fair in Ridgewood, New York, in November 2025, where I obtained a copy of her short story collection, The Drowning Machine and Other Obsessions.
I recently had a chance to speak with Emma E. Murray about the collection, Jack Ketchum, and grief horror.
DANIEL BRAUM: Your short story, “An Angel of God,” which is reprinted in The Drowning Machine and Other Obsessions first appeared in the publication Vastarien: A Literary Journal Volume 7, Issue Zero in 2024. What was it about Vastarien’s editorial directive that you felt it was a good home for the story?
Emma E. Murray: I had been a fan of Vastarien for quite a while before I finally felt I had a story that was the right vibe and high enough quality to submit, and I was so lucky because “An Angel of God” ended up being in the final issue of Vastarien, so I almost missed my chance! I loved how Jon Padgett curated these bleak, beautiful Ligottiesque tales, and I’m forever honored to have been a part of the magazine while it existed.
What is it like presenting an unreliable narrator? How do the elements of loss, grief, and religion come into play in “An Angel of God?”
To me, it brings a disturbing realism to POV characters and adds so much dimension to a story by forcing the reader to step back from the lies we all tell ourselves. Most of my works utilize an unreliable narrator to some extent, partially because any first-person character needs to be a bit unreliable in my opinion. We all see things through our own lens of our upbringing, education, class, race, sexuality, the list goes on and on, so a first-person narrative will never be unbiased and pure. I like leaning into that and pushing it in interesting directions whenever possible.
When I started writing this story, I knew I wanted a character with immense faith but who is being challenged in that faith by the reality she’s having to face. Even though I myself am an atheist, I have loved ones to whom their faith is the most significant part of their lives, and I wanted to really dig into how the cognitive dissonance of a loss, like the mother in the story experiences, could cause them to throw out all logic and reason to cling to that faith and the belief in “miracles.”
The title of the story actually comes from a Flannery O’Conner story, “The Life You Save May Be Your Own,” which is quite different but explores some of the same southern gothic themes. I also named the baby St. John, after the unlikable character from Jane Eyre, to immediately paint a picture of how the mother thinks and how her sympathetic reading of that character shows her naïve worldview and religiosity. I wanted to explore how such a person might deal with grief and their own magical thinking when placed in this absurd situation.
I suspect the late author Jack Ketchum would have enjoyed this story. One thing Ketchum reiterated to his students was “don’t look away.” I interpreted this as referencing both visual presentations in fiction but also not looking away from the emotional and dangerous aspects of life and our characters’ lives, the specific and “small” personal details unique to our lives and struggles.
By showing us the plane crash victim and the extreme pain and things he goes through, “An Angel of God” skillfully delivers difficult imagery and situations and is one that embodies the notion of not looking away.
Can you tell me about how you think about, approach, and present both elements in this story and in your work in general?
As a huge Jack Ketchum fan, what a compliment! I definitely believe in his idea of not looking away from the visceral and upsetting, especially in horror. For me, being disturbed is more important than being scared, and a lasting impression is most important of all, so I try to make the very uncomfortable scenes and emotions the heart of all my works.
In “An Angel of God,” the grief of the mother was the most vital element. I wanted her pain to be palpable for the reader, so the little details about the baby, the way her psychosis grows so organically, and the way she can view the gore of the plane crash in a totally different light than the reader will, all feeds into making that unimaginable grief as real and painful as possible. I think her anguish is juxtaposed with the physical pain of the pilot in a way that really helped deepen both, and hopefully wormed into readers’ minds to stick with them. That’s always my intention.
In my other work, I approach these kinds of scenes and intense emotional turmoil similarly. I never want the gore I write to feel gratuitous, and my horror is never the kind of escapist fiction readers reach for to get away from the weight of the real world, so I often try to achieve a balance between empathizing with the characters and also being somewhat revolted by their actions. Both my novels Crushing Snails and Shoot Me in the Face on a Beautiful Day are examples of this, and I’ll never tire of reading reviews where readers admit they hated themselves for liking a despicable protagonist as much as they did.
At the Indie Book Fair in Ridgewood, New York, in November 2025, I had the opportunity to visit your table. There was a special edition of a story you mentioned as one of your favorite short stories. Can you tell us what short story that is and why it is one of your favorites?
Yes, that was my story “Exquisite Hunger,” which had a beautiful limited-edition illustrated chapbook version published by Medusa Haus. I still have a few copies left, but I only sell them at in-person events, so if anyone is interested, that’s where you can find it. This story is especially close to my heart because it really explores all the themes I’m most drawn to: the grotesque feminine, obsession, queerness, fantasy vs reality and the disappointment that follows. It also has, in my opinion, one of the most satisfying endings I’ve written.
Tell us about the title short story for the collection, “The Drowning Machine.”
So, I actually wrote that story because I am, in fact, obsessed with submerged weirs, also known as “drowning machines,” and I really wanted to find a way to fit one into a story, so it was kind of built around that. There’s something so lonely and disquieting about drowning machines, so the story naturally took on the themes of loss, shame, and regret. It kind of poured out of me all at once, and I was surprised to read it and see that it only needed minimal work. I’m quite proud of that one and it always means a lot to me when readers reach out and say it was one that really affected them.
What is your writing process like? Which part of the story comes to you first?
For me, my stories come to me first as images, usually of the climax or ending scene, so that’s where I like to start. I write out of order, which can get messy when drafting novels, but I think my best work happens when I write the scenes as they come to me and as I’m inspired. Then, I can step back and see what’s missing for a reader to see the vision I’m trying to present.
What is it about the horror genre that makes it such a ready medium to create stories about loss, grief, and some of the more uncomfortable emotions?
To me, horror is the best place to explore these emotions because it’s one of the only places where they’re allowed to be laid out bare and completely honest. There is no need for euphemisms in horror, no instinct to diminish the anguish, to minimize the discomfort and disgust that come with the darkest, most painful parts of being human. Horror is there to make us unsettled and upset, so there’s no better place to dive into the parts of our lives that society deems unsightly and unacceptable.
Where can readers find your books and stay connected with you?
My books are available at all the usual places! And I love connecting with readers, so please follow me on Instagram @emmaemurray_ and TikTok @authoremmaemurray and check my website for any news on upcoming books: EmmaEMurray.com
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
EMMA E. MURRAY writes horror and dark speculative fiction. Her novels include Crushing Snails and Shoot Me in the Face on a Beautiful Day, the latter which won in the horror category of the Next Generation Indie Book Awards. Her novel Decay Chain will be released in April 2027 by Ghoulish Books and is available for preorder, and her sci-fi horror novel Seafoam Shallows will be out 2028 from Shortwave Publishing. She is represented by Clara Chuiton of The Rights Factory.
DANIEL BRAUM writes short stories that explore the tension between the psychological and the supernatural. He intentionally adopts the term “strange tales” for his “Twilight Zone-like stories in homage to author Robert Aickman and the intentional ambiguities of his work.
His debut short story collection The Night Marchers and Other Strange Tales was published by Cemetery Dance eBooks in 2016 and as a Cemetery Dance trade paperback in 2023.
His stories have also appeared in places ranging from The Best Horror of the Year Volume 12 edited by Ellen Datlow and Shivers 8 edited by Richard Chizmar.
His latest books are the illustrated volume Creatures of Liminal Space from Jackanapes Press and Phantom Constellations: Strange Tales and Ghost Stories from Cemetery Dance Publications.
His website is https://bloodandstardust.wordpress.com
