INTERVIEW: Joseph A. Citro conducted by Matt G. Paradise for Not Like Most #9

Joe Citro is possessed!

Not by any projectile-vomiting demon or human-hostile spirit, mind you, but with a hunger for creepy New England lore and, more notably, reminding folks that even Vermont, with its idyllic surroundings, covered bridges, fields of bovines and maple syrup farms, has an occult history: one filled with strange disappearances, madness, murder, hauntings, vampires and numerous unknowns.

In addition to his internationally-known horror fiction novels such as Dark Twilight and Deus-X, Citro has penned a few non(?)-fiction tomes including Green Mountain Ghosts, Ghouls and Unsolved Mysteries (1994), Passing Strange: True Tales of New England Hauntings and Horrors (1996), and now his latest book, Green Mountains, Dark Tales, which promises further yarns illustrating Vermont's shadowy side. Even in the company of fellow New England writers of the mysterious and eerie such as Nathaniel Hawthorne, H.P. Lovecraft, and Stephen King, the work of this "Bard of the Bizarre" stands strong alongside his predecessors, the product of a dark chronicler worth remembering.

I've met Citro on a few occasions, specifically at some of his regular Halloween reading/signing sessions around the area, which are usually on the top of my events list each Season of the Dead. Seeing that he and I share some common space in Chittenden County, the only logical course of action was to initiate this interview. Citro responded enthusiastically, each of us being somewhat familiar with the other's work, and the end result is the interview you are about to peruse. Sooner or later, it had to happen, and I think you'll all be the better for it.

This interview was conducted throughout April of 1999.

NOT LIKE MOST: A predictable question, of course, but necessary: What sparked your interest in the supernatural (occult, paranormal, etc.) and your decision to write about it?

JOE CITRO: There is a real alchemy of ingredients in this bizarre preoccupation of mine. Three probably launched the whole thing: my father's taste for odd local lore; my mother's appetite for mystery stories as recreational reading; and the Catholic Church. Being exposed to Catholicism at an early age programmed me and made me vulnerable to the idea of a "supernature." That notion remained part of my makeup long after conventional religion ceased making sense. The supernatural became a theme in what I wrote, from my first novel Shadow Child in 1987 right up until the one I'm secretly working on now.

NLM: Okay, the new book. I'm simply decomposing to hear about it.

JC: You mean Green Mountains, Dark Tales? It's hot off the press! It is my second collection of strange-but-true, strange-but-MAYBE-true, strange-but-hopefully-not-true, tales of Vermont and Vermonters. They are not all "dark" in the sense that they are sad or downbeat or evil. Some are "dark" simply because they haven't seen the light of day for over a century. Like the story of Dr. Solomon Jewett who built an octagonal house in Rutland according to blueprints provided by invisible entities with whom he regularly communicated. Its unique design was intended to enhance communication between this world and the next. Even the Rutland historical society and the woman currently living in the house hadn't heard the story. And there's the very weird story of the timid farm woman from Bristol who saw two puzzling black humanlike forms in the sky. When they saw her looking, they transformed into recognizable religious icons and tried to frighten her. What's vexing about it is that it is not in any way typical of mid-19th century religious visions. Especially the black-to-white transformation. She finally worked up the courage to tell her clergyman about it and he recorded the events. I found his remarkable manuscript buried in the archives of the Sheldon Museum.

NLM: Are you still doing your radio show? Tell us about that.

JC: Oh, sure. I've been doing that since -- I think -- late 1991. It is not so much a show as a commentary series. Every other week I record a 4 to 5 minute piece that is played twice every other Monday. In them I try to keep Vermont's ghosts and monsters alive, and I also try to bring colorful Vermonters back to life. The show is about oddities of local history and folklore. I have enjoyed the process tremendously. At this point people are bringing stories to me. It has become sort of a cooperative interchange with the listeners. At least to some degree. It is much more interactive than fiction.

NLM: I'm especially happy to see that you include a geographical index in some of your books so readers can explore the locations for themselves. Do you have any favorites?

JC: Yeah, my very favorite story is the one about the Eddy Brothers in Chittenden. In my estimation what went on in their ramshackle farmhouse is Vermont's greatest mystery. People came from all over the world to attend the seances they conducted there. Six nights a week the brothers would summon three dimensional phantoms who'd parade around and interact with the audience. People recognized friends and long-dead relatives. If it was a trick, no one has ever been able to figure out how it was done. It was investigated for nine weeks by Col. Henry Olcott, a lawyer and former military detective from New York City. He left a believer. It was also in that Vermont house that the cofounders of Theosophy first met -- Col. Olcott and Madam Helena Blavatsky. So you can see the area has a pretty impressive occult history.

NLM: A quote from a local free paper discussing your getting kicked out of Catechism as a boy: "[Citro] told one sister that if HE died on the cross for someone, he would WANT them to commit lots of sins." It's funny because in Satanism, we indulge in the so-called sins because most of them are fun and feel really good. Agree/ disagree?

JC: Jeez, I never really intended for that to get into the paper. I thought the reporter and I were off the record just then. But yeah, that incident happened. Or something very like it. I recall many of the specifics if not the exact words. But context is important. See, I wasn't really trying to be provocative or a wise-ass or anything. I was just asking questions, trying to understand the "faith" the nuns were well-intendedly trying to force on me. At that time -- in a Roman Catholic context -- questions weren't a real good idea. I got in trouble. In my absence the other kids were told to "Pray for Joseph." You can imagine the social impact that had when the pious little demons were NOT in Catechism class. But in spite of them, I kept on questioning and have done so ever since. I think I finally purged all my Catholic-related discomfort in my novel Deus-X.

NLM: I can assume that, throughout your gathering of these strange Vermont tales, you've run into at least a few nutty people, perhaps even angry Christians who disapprove of you painting Vermont in anything but fall foliage colors. Thrall me with some examples if you would.

JC: Most of the trouble I've run into -- predictably -- is from people who have not read my books. I recall once a school in a neighboring town wanted me to come and speak to the kids. For this I habitually charge a modest fee. Parents rallied and said they did not want PTO money used on the likes of me (or something like that). I went anyway, without compensation. I guess that's what you call "free speech." I think the teachers and principal involved were very brave to have me despite the parents' hesitation. But you know, Deus-X is the book that has the potential to really piss off the rabid-type Christian types. But I'm safe because, predictably, they'll judge it by its cover and never read it.

NLM: One aspect of your writing that is refreshing is the humorous streak (albeit, a black one) in your style. Do you believe that people are far too serious for their own good and how would that relate to your experiences in researching stories?

JC: I just want to be sure that I am not too serious for my own good. I DO see folly in a lot of human endeavor. But my humor is never intended to ridicule.

NLM: The rare critic has commented that your stories lack skepticism on your part. Could this be that you'd rather leave the "believing" part to the reader?

JC: I'm not sure I understand the question. Nor do I pay serious attention to most "criticism" by so-called "professional" critics. I figure if I have done my job well, people will have fun reading my books. If I've done a REALLY good job, peoples' imaginations and curiosity will be piqued. I'd like to think that if a believer reads one of my books she will put it down convinced I am a believer. If a doubter reads the same book, he'll put it down convinced I'm a doubter.

NLM: Do you have personal views on the supernatural, or do you consider yourself merely a transcriber of events? Are you religious in any sense?

JC: Short questions that seem to require long, thoughtful answers. So let's see if we can turn it into two questions. First, "Do you have personal views on the supernatural, or do you consider yourself merely a transcriber of events?" I don't see why the two have to be mutually exclusive. Yes, I have personal views, but they are always in chaos. The closest I've ever come to articulating them was in Deus-X. I'm not exactly a "transcriber," either. Really, I see myself more as a storyteller. I started by listening to my father's stories. Then I tried to write my own as novels. I detoured a bit to collect other peoples' and to tell them in my own way, with my own voice. As to the second part, "Are you religious in any sense?" Yes I am.

NLM: It appears that you have more than a passing interest in Lovecraft. How deep does this interest go, either in terms of writing or anything else?

JC: Lovecraft came along just when I needed him. I remember it exactly. I read "The Dunwich Horror" when I was in the 6th grade. It was in a wonderful, monster-anthology called Great Tales of Terror and The Supernatural edited by Herbert Wise and Phyllis Fraser. A teacher loaned it to me. Later I bought my own copy. I discovered him again when I was in college, and, in a way, he is still with me. Lovecraft taught me that great, scary stories can happen right here in Vermont. His "Whisperer in the Darkness" helped warp me into the man I am today. Later I was honored to be invited by Robert Weinberg to contribute to a Lovecraft Centennial fiction anthology called Lovecraft's Legacy. At the end of my story, I was permitted to acknowledge my debt in an afterword. I rightly called Lovecraft "my first writing teacher." When I made my earliest adolescent attempts at fiction, I tried to sound like him. But I lost his voice as I found my own. Of my novels, I guess my most "Lovecraftian" is probably Dark Twilight, which was published in 1991 by Warner books. I think my current publisher, University Press of New England, plans to reissue it some time along. Hope so anyway. It's great having been at this long enough to go into reruns.

[end of interview]