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Subverting “Normal” in Horror with Dori Lumpkin

This piece is so much, Dori! Thank you for letting us give it a home at Marrow. I wanted to first ask you about writing from place. I noticed in your bio that you’re from Mobile, Alabama. I’m from Foley/Elberta! South Alabama certainly has its unique qualities, and I’m curious about how your experience in the South informed this story. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Azalea Trail Maids and the culture of debutantes, which I couldn’t help but immediately think about, knowing your background and the undercurrent of repression and classism in this story. Can you tell us more about how your experiences factored into writing?

Yes! I actually grew up in Fairhope, which is a small bayside town relatively close to Foley, and is absolutely where I mentally envisioned these characters and this world (aside from the horror and science fiction aspects. I promise no one in Fairhope is attempting a New Skin procedure!!) I think there’s such a deep sort of layering that comes with Southern culture that is prevalent in this story specifically. We’ve got the constant joke of like, “bless her heart” right, when you want to say that someone is doing unwell without actually admitting it, or how complex any interaction can be, really. Not to mention the Azalea Trail Maid experience (which I’m so glad you brought up!). I actually grew up with the Dogwood Trail Maids, which are even more exclusive than the Azaleas, if you can believe it. It was such a big deal to be invited into that community if you were a younger, high-school aged girl, and the women who were part of it in their high school years never really left. I know women whose daughters’ daughters’ daughters’ are desperate to get into the pageants, and it all becomes some sort of crazy rich women’s club. There’s a sense of almost harmful exclusivity with all of these experiences, right? Whether it’s the layered use of language or more obvious answers like the Dogwoods and the Azaleas and the Debutantes, and all of it is seen as something that you should want to attain. And the moment you get a taste of that, in a society that thrives on exclusivity, you’re not going to want to let it go. So, if you take someone who wants to be involved to that degree because they already feel so othered by the world around them and give them the chance to be included, how far would they go before it stops being worth it?

Aside from the Stepford Wives-esque qualities of the piece, I’m wondering where you see the heart of science fiction residing in the piece. We get delightfully lurid and fleshy concepts with the New Skin and flaying and flying fascia everywhere (hello Cronenberg!). What other science fiction machinations did you want to explore with this piece, and what delights you about such machinations in other adjacent fiction you read?

I think that first and foremost, science fiction (and science fiction adjacent horror) is rooted in the exploration of the unknown. I love the idea of characters that are so removed from their typical, expected surroundings because of certain uncontrollable things (queerness, neurodivergence, class structures) that things that are seen as “normal” (aforementioned heteronormativity, expected societal standard) become deeply horrifying. Not to spoil the story or anything, but the main example being Barbara knowing that New Skin is “normal” to her, but the moment she realizes how awful her new friends are, the Skin she wanted so badly suddenly becomes something she can’t stand. Because she doesn’t understand it anymore like she thought she did (or like she thought she wanted to), which is what makes it so awful. There are some great examples of this in the anthology No Trouble At All from Cursed Morsels Press, which I could recommend forever.

If this piece were to be turned into a film, who would you want to direct it and why?

I’m absolutely obsessed with this question, but also it’s probably one of the more difficult questions to think about. If I had to give an answer though, I’d probably say Nia DaCosta. First, I think a female director is necessary for a piece like this. Also, I’m obsessed with her Canydman sequel, the imagery is absolutely gorgeous, and I feel like she would bring such a needed voice to this story.

This story has such a delicious and sinister setting. Everybody loves a story that shows a crack in the façade. We would love to know: What would be on the menu at one of these parties?

You know that one trope in fiction where a character is eating a very fancy, very nice dinner with some vaguely menacing villains and they look down and suddenly realize all the food is rotten and full of maggots? That’s how I feel like these parties actually go.

But, all in all, I think there has to be egg salad. Maybe mac and cheese or deviled eggs. Anything you’d find at an Easter lunch.

If I were to pair readings with this piece, what stories, books, essays might you recommend and why?

Oh god, please bear with me because I feel like I’m about to get so pretentious. I can’t in good conscience tell you that Julia Kristeva’s Powers of Horror had no effect on me and this piece. The concept of abjection and the surrounding sense of loss of self (in relation to like, the open wound, and other things that viscerally remind you of humanity) are such a big deal to Barbara and her journey throughout the piece.

Also, very obviously the Stepford Wives, I adore that book and think that more people need to be aware of it. I’d teach a class on it, if I could.

As far as short stories go, I would recommend Lisa Tuttle (specifically her collection Nest of Nightmares) to accompany this piece as well. I should give a disclaimer, that collection has a lot of problematic elements, and was very decidedly written in the 80’s with a very white (and often misogynistic) lens, so be aware of that when reading, but stories like “Dollburger” and “Flying to Byzantium” sort of stick in my brain when it comes to dealing with pieces like Supper Club.

Are you working on anything new? Anything forthcoming?

I’m always working on a bazillion things at once, it seems like! I’ve got a few things forthcoming. My sapphic slasher/not-quite-haunted house piece, “Amoret” will appear in the next issue of The Deeps from Spindle House Press, which I’m very excited about. I also have a piece forthcoming in Divinations Magazine called “Binding” which is an ugly little flash piece about a cursed book. And a few things which have yet to be announced that I cannot wait for.

As far as anything new goes, I’m trying my hand at a few bigger projects. I’m currently working on a novella that feels much more like swamp inspired folk horror than anything else. I’ve also got a fun vampire novella living rent-free in my mind, so we’ll see what comes of that!

Picture of Dori Lumpkin

Dori Lumpkin

Dori Lumpkin is a queer writer and graduate student from South Alabama. Their work has been previously found in Susurrus and Soft Star magazines, and is forthcoming in Diet Milk Magazine. They love all things speculative and weird, and strive to make fiction writing a more inclusive place. You can find them @whimsyqueen on most social media websites.