Latinx Heritage in Horror Month 2024: An Interview with Iona Wayland
What inspired you to start writing?
To be honest, it was a group of alley cats. Even before I could write, I’d literally scribble and loopity-loop in a composition notebook about the cat families I saw outside from my window. The way I portrayed their stray lives was often like an anthropomorphized telenovela and I remember being frustrated when no one could read what I’d written.
Tell us about your work in 25 words or less.
Ashes depicts a Latine woman’s journey through haunted woods to bring peace to her brother’s restless spirit and face her own traumatic past.
What was it about the horror genre that drew you to it?
There are many aspects of our world that occur yet is taboo to discuss or directly commentate on. There can be healing and overcoming of traumas, such as a violent family member, addiction, generational mistreatment, etc. However, if these dark truths are constantly ignored, they benefit from never being addressed, and they permeate our lives negatively. I remember becoming intrigued by the horror genre and feeling relieved that the topics that piqued my interest the most were symbolic of the traumatic underbelly of our lived experiences. The authors were not just shining a light on what people avoided talking about but made that difficult truth into the main points of their works.
Do you make a conscious effort to include LatinX characters and/or themes in your writing and if so, what do you want to portray?
I do include Latinx characters. That’s partially a conscious effort and partially because that is my reality. I’m Latine and so my lived experience will bleed into my work a bit. I did want to include themes of unlearning Machismo (or toxic masculinity), undertones of religious trauma, and dissecting what being a trauma survivor means, especially when intertwined with cultural intersectionality.
What has writing horror taught you about the world and yourself?
Horror has provided a medium to explore the darker aspects of our collective reality. It’s not often that someone can just share their traumatic experiences and know that the listening ear will have the space for it, respond appropriately, or support their version of healthy healing. When depicting these themes in horror works, can create space and connect survivors together.
For example, my dark fantasy novel Ashes is an allegory for living with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Instead of having to navigate societal taboos, misinformation, or deep-rooted defensiveness, I had a space cut out for the powerful themes I wanted to cover. I could explore the truth of having those symptoms, how they show up differently in women, how there can be Catholic/religious guilt, the harms of conditional love, or how generational trauma can add to how you’re “supposed” to exist as a person being a suppression factor that impedes healing. I could follow Angela, the main character, on her survivorship journey, both symbolically and literally.
How have you seen the horror genre change over the years? And how do you think it will continue to evolve?
From what I’ve seen, I think there seems to be more intentionality within the horror genre. There’s been a shift from jump scares or quick thrills. Instead, the screenwriter or author tends to have themes, symbolism, and/or allegories they want to depict. Whether the audience is totally aware of it or not, it makes the story have more depth and cohesion.
Time to daydream: what are some aspects of LatinX history or culture – stories from your childhood, historical events, etc — that you really want our genre to tackle? (Whether or not you’re the one to tackle them!)
I would like to see more representations of not just the collective cultural trauma and erasure caused by colonization, but also coming out the other side of it with our cultural pride and human spirit. Human survivorship and resilience are incredible and are the sole reason we, as Latines, are still here. We’ve survived attempts at extermination, assimilation, and destruction, and it just makes it more important to connect with our survivability and cultural heritage. I’d also love to see more usage of ancestral connections and the spirituality behind that. There are many ways that could occur in the horror genre, including noticing mistakes as well as impossible decisions made by our predecessors.
Who are some of your favorite LatinX characters in horror?
I loved Alejandra in The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro. There’s also Yadriel and Maritza from Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas. Each character has their own mental health and generational journeys to explore.
Who are some LatinX horror authors you recommend our audience check out?
I’d suggest Carmen Maria Machado. My favorite book of hers is In The Dream House, and though it’s technically a memoir, it’s written in a horrific way that depicts the reality of escaping IPV. Silvia Moreno-Garcia is another great one. My favorite book of hers is Mexican Gothic.
What is one piece of advice you would give horror authors today?
I’d say don’t shy away from your fears. They are what make up the foundation of what you’re bringing into this world. And there are common fears that are linked to human survival, such as snakes and spiders. But what I’m talking about are your worst fears. It creates a more authentic experience, and it will connect with your audience, especially those who share the same ones.
What is one piece of craft advice you’ve gotten that has really worked for you? Alternatively, what’s one that you’ve happily rejected?
I was surprised that writing with music helped me. Typically, I can’t ignore music and I get engrossed in it, but after I curated a playlist, I’ve been pleasantly surprised at my productivity. I also do well with writing sprints so that I can have that focused time and attention, then a reward/break. I end up getting so much more accomplished that way. This will sound contradictory, but I swear it’s not. I want you to know that you never ever have to write about your trauma. Though I love reading and depicting themes of trauma and ultimately survivorship and healing, that does not mean that writers are obligated to write about the worst things that have ever happened to them. Going through traumatic life events is not and should not be seen as fodder for a “great story one day.” It is something very bad that happened to you and is something no one should have to go through. There’s a big difference between finding empowerment by depicting aspects of trauma, even if it’s from your own life, and straight-up retraumatizing yourself for the sake of a book that will be critically received by the public. I think it’s important to know where our personal boundaries are, know what we want to convey in our writing and works, and to the best of our abilities, healthily convey our themes, symbols, and messages.
And to the LatinX writers out there who are just getting started, what advice would you give them?
Just know that the world is your oyster and writing is supposed to be fun. Yes, there’s a learning curve when it comes to writing craft and it can absolutely be frustrating, but there should be a part of you that lights up with intrigue, joy, curiosity, or persistence. It’s not about completing a soulless assignment or proving anything to anyone. This is about exploring your own creativity and enhancing your writing abilities!
Iona Wayland is a writer, book lover, and tea enthusiast. She considers herself a child of the forest, is a devoted animal/human mom, and trauma therapist. She depicts aspects of the human experience often in fantastical ways. Common themes of her work include grief, surviving trauma, and finding purpose and strength.
