Fire up your VCR and dim your fear, horror fans. From Josh Malerman comes WATCHING EVIL DEAD: UNEARTHING THE RADIANT ARTIST WITHIN, a memoir-manifesto centered on the single night that changed everything. Before he was a bestselling author, Malerman was just another aspiring writer plowing through rough drafts, playing music and dreaming big, but the night he screened The Evil Dead with then-fiancée Allison and friends helped him see the kind of artist he wanted to be. Through laughter, gore and existential dread, he confronts doubts, celebrates love and urges all creators to face the fears that have kept them silent. A funny, unnervingly intimate twist on haunted houses for the influencer age, Malerman’s latest is Stephen King’s On Writing meets the Deadites, a passionate, raw call to arms for anyone who’s ever wanted to create.
RUE MORGUE recently had the opportunity to sit down with Malerman to chat about WATCHING EVIL DEAD, now available from Del Rey/Penguin Random House.
You’ve said that one night watching The Evil Dead with friends shaped your creative life forever. What about that experience unlocked something for you as an artist and a storyteller?
Author Josh Malerman
It wasn’t so much that it shaped me; it was more like a convergence of a number of mammoth themes, all present in the same living room one night, and I suppose it was up to the four of us to notice that convergence or not. There was young love (Allison and I were only a few months deep at the time) and dying love (her cousin and his girlfriend were at the end of their rope), and so the entire arc of a relationship was present. And could be felt. Both ends of that spectrum in full. Add in the fact that I’d just gotten a book deal for Bird Box and felt like I was standing at the potential head of a career in horror, plus we were watching Sam Raimi’s first movie, meaning he was standing at the head of a potential career in horror, and it all just… It all felt huge. It could’ve been a regular night, watching a movie with friends, but there was so much unseen that was present as well. The next morning, I told Allison I wanted to write an entire book about it, and then twelve years later, I have. Here we are.
The Evil Dead is the spine of this book, and also a key part of your own creative DNA. What is it about Raimi’s film that continues to resonate with you after all these years?
The rhythm, the freedom, the vividness. It feels like a band made the movie rather than one person, though we can now recognize Sam Raimi’s signature shots and style from The Evil Dead in every movie he’s done since. A thing that really stands out for me is that I read somewhere he and his band of friends used to film Three Stooges-esque bits in a graveyard, something like that, and The Evil Dead really is a combination of those elements. I think sometimes, when we say “comedy horror” or “horror comedy,” we’re unknowingly undercutting the horror element. How scary can it be if it’s funny, right? But the comedy Sam Raimi was into feels more like the silent era… Charlie Chaplin… and Evil Dead 2 definitely has that in its blood. So, yes, the originality, the energy, the fact that he wasn’t afraid to create on instinct and with confidence. All of that. And then, despite the Chaplin-esque levity, the scares are legit.
The subtitle promises a look at “unearthing the radiant artist within.” What does that phrase mean to you now, upon the book’s publication?
Well, the subtitle was Del Rey’s idea. And I understand why it’s there. The book isn’t a film analysis, it’s not theory and it’s definitely not a history of the movie itself. As I say in the book, I’m not an expert on The Evil Dead. The book should feel more akin to what it feels like when you show a good friend a movie you love, rather than a writing guide. Yet, there is an element of a writing guide in WATCHING EVIL DEAD. Not by way of advice (I can’t imagine giving people advice in that way), but more like… a shot in the arm. I hope so anyway. I hope a writer would feel compelled to get back to their book immediately after reading this one. So, Del Rey putting that subtitle kinda lets people know this isn’t horror commentary, and it’s not just for fans of The Evil Dead. It’s about bigger feelings, worries, connections than an examination of a single movie.
Throughout the book, you talk about insecurity and comparison. How have those challenges evolved from your early days as a writer to the success of Bird Box and beyond?
Well, I’d written some fourteen books by the time Bird Box came out, so I wasn’t insecure about it all. It was more like, What does a writer deserve? And what wish/hope might make you feel uncomfortable? Are you pining for attention, money, likes? That’s okay if you are! But there is something naturally revelatory about achieving any level of success because then, you can feel, up close, what actually excites you. There’s no hiding from that truth. And for me, I’ve discovered there’s still no better feeling than finishing the rough draft. It’s the greatest feeling I know. And so… What does the writer deserve? Well, that question propels much of the book. And, as you know, I couldn’t get it out of my head the night we watched The Evil Dead.
WATCHING EVIL DEAD reads like both a memoir and a creative manifesto. What’s one piece of guidance you’d pass along to other horror fans standing at the edge of their own artistic journey?
I don’t have the easiest time giving advice because I know there are so many ways to do this. But something that helped me a lot, way back, was the day I got rid of the words “good” and “bad” or “right” and “wrong.” If you write enough rough drafts, you begin to realize you’re gonna have to do a lot of rewriting, no matter how “right” or “wrong” you thought the thing was. So, with that in mind, why labor and loathe, why doubt, while working on the rough draft? You know it’s gonna change no matter what. But you need those three, four hundred pages to rewrite. My advice would be to experience the rough draft with as much energy, charisma, freedom and glee as you possibly can, even if you’re writing the darkest thing. Because to spend all that time worrying whether you’re any good isn’t helping any, given that no matter how awesome the rough draft is, you’re gonna rewrite it like six times.
