Theories of Flight

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When I was a very new writer, I—for reasons explained in the dedication for Equations of Life—fell in with a bunch of horror writers. It was more by accident than design, but one of those happy accidents I’ve never regretted. It started in the early days of what became “the web,” when things were beginning to move off the newsnets and list servers. Message boards were becoming popular, and I ended up at the place where most of the UK’s young horror writers hung out. That site was Masters of Terrors.

Now, to think of the bunch of us—and most of us still meet up every year at the British Fantasy Society’s FantasyCon—as young… well, we were once. Honest. Now we’re pretty much all in our forties, bald or balding, with a preponderance of black T-shirts and silly beards. There’s been some fall out: some people we don’t see anymore, some have gone on to do other things and live different lives. But the number of us from Masters of Terror, from that first pub meeting in London (at the Dead Nurse, I think), who are still active in writing is quite startling.

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