On Writing:
Q: Your stories in Let the Right One Simmer range from experimental to fable-like to a modern psychological horror. When you shift styles, is it a conscious decision or intuitive/organic? Can you tell us about a time when you’d tried a style, and it didn’t work out? If so, what did the experience teach you?
A: “Definitely organic.
It’s always been in my nature to laugh at the notion of “stay in your lane.” I tend not to follow recipes (ironically, given you are publishing my recipes!); I have never liked being told how to dress or wear my hair; and I learned early on that there are two kinds of rules: those that liberate and those that control.
I’m still that goth-punk GenX OG kid at age 60 and my creative life definitely reflects that.
I struggled early on as a writer (1970s to 1990s) to fit the square pegs of certain story concepts into round holes of genre formula before I realized I didn’t have to abide by those dictates and that, maybe, I shouldn’t even want to.
It helped to have cultural examples that celebrated new ways of thinking: Billie Jean King, The Simpsons, Keith Haring, Apple computers, Sally Ride, Basquiat, MTV, glasnost, mixed marriage, Murphy Brown, desktop publishing, post-punk and grunge, Carol Mosley-Braun, Alexander Calder, cable TV, “Free to Be You And Me,” Madonna, Blockbuster Movies, the fall of the Berlin Wall, even curbside recycling.
With this new awareness, I gave my writer’s self permission to explore different genres, styles, and forms, experimenting until the ideas finally landed where they could fully live and breathe. You never know until you try, right?
I think the first experience I had with writing a style that didn’t work out was mostly writing a story that should have failed but didn’t.
It happened when I unwittingly attempted to write magical realism. I had no idea that even was. Had never heard the term before. I just knew it wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t science fiction or fantasy or horror, either.
Part of me knew it would just land me more rejection to persist with the story, but part of me said, fuck it, do it anyway.
This is how I live my life anyway: there is a certain pleasure in throwing the proverbial spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks.
The story I wrote wove several disparate ideas into one tapestry: itinerant street musicians, images from an old French film (Fanny), Raggedy Ann dolls, and PTL TV (a religious cable network).
I wrote the piece from a free-range kid’s POV and included both a sexual assault, domestic violence, a dead dog, and an attempted molestation… taboo topics better left unsaid.
My critique group hated my story. In hindsight, that makes sense: they were decidedly invested in genre traditions and rules and not really open to experiments. They liked the rules of control, not liberation.
But I believed in my story. Even the experience of writing it felt different… like I was channeling something from somewhere else. (I still have these moments; they indicate something good is happening!)
And I submitted my story more out of spite than anything, expecting to rack up a lot of rejections.
At the same time, I was reading a lot of literary journals. I still count The Missouri Review, Zoetrope, Gargoyle, Glimmer Train McSweeney’s, Black Warrior Review, Tin House, Bomb, and Conjunctions among my favorites.
I noticed how these editors occasionally published rule-breaking topics and styles, sometimes in ways that melted my mind. It confirmed I wasn’t the only person who found transgressive stories appealing.
And then… “The Rosaries of Raggedy Ann” ended up being not only my second-ever short story publication (and first one paid, thank you Rosebud!), but it earned me a Pushcart Prize nomination.
From that I learned that maybe I’m better off trusting my gut and taking risks—leaning into the rules of liberation—and less served by the rules of control.
Postscript: My latest book, Trust Fall (Gnashing Teeth Publishing, 2026) is another example where I wrote in this weird format of first-person fairy tale narrative mashed up with autofictive political commentary, with editorial asides and illustrations embedded throughout the novelette.
I mean, what kind of Frankenstein monster is that?
It was something I wrote over two days’ time following the death of my father… truths that I have waited my entire life to share. And now it’s going to be something people everywhere can pick up and read.”
On Horror:
Q: As a member of the Seattle Chapter of the Horror Writers Association, and as a member of the horror community, do you feel like engaging with other horror creators has shaped your perspective on the genre? If so, in what ways?
A: “It’s interesting because horror is such a broad spectrum of narrative, with an umbrella just as big as the one needed for science fiction, or for fantasy.
The story I told you about earlier, “The Rosaries of Raggedy Ann,” has many elements that make it equally at home in horror as it is in magical realism. Dead animals, questionable magic, violence, the inexplicable.
One thing I love about my horror community here in Seattle is that they get it. The PNW has its own “gothic” characterization, and I’m here for it!
Among my peers, I can count writers who tackle a huge diversity of horror forms: body horror, the supernatural, isolation horror, the paranormal, gothic horror, found footage, the occult, slasher, psychological horror, creature feature, horromance, dystopia, techno horror.
Some are novelists, some are indie filmmakers, some are comic book artists, some are storytellers, some are poets. What we all have in common is a shared consensus on the definition of horror as narrative:
It’s the unflinching examination of the dark side of the human experience.
While I feel I’ve had enough years to cultivate my own voice, style, and vision, I’m still inspired by the works of my horror peers (my “creepy people,” if you will).
I learn more about horror tropes from them, for instance. I can’t very well subvert a trope, which I tend toward, unless I know the trope from the inside out. My creepy people know these things better than I do, so I learn from them.
I also delight in the dark places they take their audiences. We all have boundaries that define how far we go down the rabbit hole of human darkness in literature; by encountering their work, I refine my own boundaries and even accept their permission to dig deeper (or to walk away from triggers).
Finally, my creepy people circles are made up of the most well-adjusted, jovial, lovely, and compassionate folks I know. I think to write horror is to practice courage, honesty, and empathy. I can’t think of a genre that tells the truth more fearlessly than horror. And we cannot believably depict the human shadow unless we have mined it for ourselves. So, my horror writing peers are also like second family to me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Fanning the Embers:
Q: “Is it an author’s job to be likable?“
A: Good question, and not an easy answer. H.P. Lovecraft is no longer (and maybe never was) a likable author, but he still has intrepid fans the world over. On the other hand, I can think of very likable people who are not famous authors, or popular authors who are quite likable because of their personality as much as their writing.
My feeling is that writers must be able to live with themselves at the end of the day.
If you’re a people pleasure and your likability helps you publish books and engage readers, then that’s a solid path for you… why not take it?
If you’re outspoken and have skewering thoughts about the ways of the world that might ruffle feathers, and you don’t mind dealing with pushback (because there is always pushback!), then go for it.
If you’re likable because your work represents voices, visions, and ideas that don’t get enough attention otherwise, you’re doing the work of an ambassador.
If you write brutal, violent fictions, have no use for social media, but your work helps others mine their personal trauma (a core value of reading horror), then it doesn’t matter if you’re friends with your audience… just write in service to their needs.
Story/Author Specific:
Q: Your Substack mentions that you are also a photographer and filmmaker. Do you feel like these visual mediums influence your writing? For example, the way you picture scenes, or bring about atmosphere, or structure in a story?
A: “I am influenced by all story, regardless of media. Working with photography and film (and other visual images, as I’m working on some digital collage projects, too) helps me see the story in a different way. I have learned a lot about dialog, the value of place objects, pacing, and point of view by watching short films, in particular.
I’m not sure I ever draft a short story or poem or essay with any intention of turning it into a film. I am now considering some of my short stories for adaptation to film, however. I also think my upcoming novelette, Trust Fall, could be a weird little mixed-media film I could have fun with.
My short films are, for now, poetry collages with voiceover—not live action features that require actors, a script, etc. I hope to expand in the next few years, but this is what I’ve done so far.
When I go to make these, I hang together a storyboard approximating the arc of the poem. After that, I gather images, sounds, and music to serve the narrative arc. Only after those pieces are put together (kinda like building a 3-D puzzle) do I then write the voiceover to meet the audio-visual story that unfolds within them.“
More About Tamara Kaye Sellman:
- Favorite quote: “Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”
― Franz Kafka - Helpful thought: Writing from your most authentic self is perhaps the most revolutionary act you can commit; it’s both terrifying and exhilarating, but more importantly, it’s one of the critical ways you can serve your community.
- Favorite caffeinated beverage: I’m in the PNW… so the only correct answer is, “This is, excuse me, a damn fine cup of coffee.” ―Special Agent Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks
Links:
I think you have all of them previously, but I’ll add: https://linktr.ee/TamaraSellman