‘H
orror is one of the best genres ever.” Jack Mackay, the author
of the soon-to-be-released Gloam (Rock the Boat),
is speaking about his debut novel – a children’s horror story for readers aged nine to 12. “You can get into things that you just can’t in other genres. It’s the best place to talk about things that exist in the world and that a lot of kids experience, but don’t have the tools to understand. Fiction and storytelling is the best arena for kids to get a linguistic and psychological grasp on things that are quite abstractly frightening.” In Mackay’s debut novel, due to be published
in August, four siblings go to live at their late grandmother’s remote house with their stepfather following the death of their mother. The children are isolated – both in terms of literal space and because they have lost family members – so their well-meaning stepfather’s solution is to hire a babysitter. The family is initially taken in, but oldest sibling Gwen realises that there is something not quite right with the beautiful and seemingly perfect Esme. Her instinct is, of course, correct, and the children soon find themselves fighting off a terrifying monster and creatures from their nightmares that have come to life. Gloam is one of Rock the Boat’s most important
titles this year (publication will be supported by the company’s biggest marketing campaign of 2025) and rights have sold in France, Brazil, Italy, Croatia and the US. WF Howes is producing the audiobook and Indira Varma is set to narrate. Not bad going for a debut author who is, at the time of writing, only 21 years old. So where did the idea for Gloam come from? Partly from his grandparents’ house – a big, country home that was an important part of Mackay’s childhood – and partly from the desire to write something for his younger sister. “My sister was 12 and really getting into horror
stories. She loved anything that was slightly spooky and that pushed the boundaries in terms of the scare factor,” says Mackay. “She wanted to watch things like Halloween and Alien and I noticed that there isn’t as much as I thought there was in terms of horror for that age range. I thought I should write something that suits that age range and test it out on my siblings.” The fictional family came first and, once they
were in place, Mackay – who “loves” designing villains and monsters – thought to himself: what are they frightened of? “Guillermo del Toro [the film director] has a big affinity for monsters and he always talks about how monsters are living symbols in horror fiction,” he says. “That was the angle I was trying to take.” Gwen, for example, is scared of her childhood slipping away and is feeling the loss of her mother quite strongly, so when she enters into her nightmare in a climactic moment she sees mouldering childhood toys and photographs, plus a creature that bears an unpleasant resemblance to someone she knows. There is also a character called the Stitchy Man, which
represents the twins’ fear of being permanently inseparable and not seen as individuals. Esme is, however, the most truly frightening thing about the whole book. Mackay agrees, saying that for him the most terrifying scene is when she drops her perfect persona just for a moment and it is only Gwen who notices. “It is a moment of quite realistic abusive
power against a child. The thing that freaks you out is that in that moment you are at the complete mercy of someone who is significantly older and more powerful, and who has the trust of the authority figures in the house.” That, says Mackay, is more frightening than any kind of stereotypical monster figure. Mackay began writing at a young age and
speaks with love and affection about his grand- father, who nurtured the young Jack’s literary enthusiasm. The writer first submitted a story to publishers at the age of 11 (it did not get picked up because it was “obviously terrible”), and he tried a couple more times in his teens. He also studied English at “every level” of education, never entertaining the idea of being something other than a writer.
Extract
At the bleakest edge of the world, crammed into a car that was people, Gwen watched as Gloam Island loomed closer and closer. If she had been told a few months ago that this place would one day be her home, she would have laughed, then cried, then she probably would have punched a wall.
‘I’m squashed,’ said Hazel.
‘I’m hungry,’ said Hester.
Just because horror is scary and intense doesn’t mean that
“I think the first story I wrote was called
‘Grandad Stinks’ and I wrote that on a magnetic board and gave it to my grandad. We used to tell each other stories and I was always read to as a kid. All of that stuff rolled together turned into me wanting to be a storyteller forever, if I can.” Mackay remembers Bloody Horowitz (and the sequel More Bloody Horowitz), the collections of horror stories by Anthony Horowitz, including one about a man whose wife replaces his suncream with cooking oil. At the end he runs into a wall in agony, leaving a red imprint behind. “It was so spooky and visceral and visual. That’s the kind of stuff you don’t find anywhere else when you’re a kid. It feels like you’ve stumbled across some sort of secret, forbidden, ancient text.” For Mackay, horror can also be uplifting,
something which comes across in Gloam. The aforementioned stepfather is a figure who provides love and support, even if he does introduce the terrifying Esme, and Mackay, who calls his own stepfather “dad”, wanted to show how those relationships can be positive and loving. He also shows a group of siblings who, despite the monsters and the nightmares, come out on top. “[Gloam] is a story about being young, having
all the odds stacked against you and still banding together and reaching out to take the power back… Just because it’s horror and it’s scary and intense doesn’t mean that it can’t be life-affirming. It can be full of love and joy and show a real passion for life.”
Hazel and Hester Clayton-Fenn were twins, six years old and identical to the pore, dark-haired and freckled with matching button noses. They writhed against their seatbelts.
Gwen was sat in the passenger seat with her suitcase in the footwell. She was both squashed and hungry, but she was thirteen, which meant she was old enough to keep her complaints to herself. She returned her attention to her notebook, where she was writing her latest story. This one was going to be a bestseller to get distracted.
‘How much longer?’ muttered Roger.
Roger was ten. His full name was Roger Clayton-Fenn Junior, after their grandfather. Roger Senior had died soon after the twins were born, so there wasn’t much need for the distinction anymore. With his elbows wedged between the twins’ car seats, Roger Junior glowered through his curly fringe.
AYESHA BROWN
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