The Beautiful Horror of Nadia Bulkin

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Aug 26

The writer adds her own unique perspective to the horror genre.

It’s hard to compare Nadia Bulkin to other writers. Her unique speculative take on culture is slightly reminiscent of Carmen Maria Machado but completely original in a refreshing, if not emotionally raw, way. Bulkin takes a good idea and twists it so it provides more than just a story; it gives us social commentary, deep-rooted human emotion and visceral images of a world infused with danger.

Nadia published her first piece of short fiction in college and has written “frantically” since then, producing around 40 different short stories. Her first solo collection, She Said Destroy, was published by Word Horde in 2017. This is the same collection that I read and fell in love with. I admit to being nervous when I began my virtual interview with Nadia, but quickly relaxed thanks to her warm and open personality. She’s not just extremely eloquent, she’s also incredibly friendly and easy to talk to.

When selecting what stories she wanted to include in She Said Destroy, Nadia says she wanted the collection to specifically project what kind of writing she does- a triangulation of feminism, horror and politics. “The reason that I always put young women in my stories is because I never saw girls like me as the centerpiece and the actor with agency in stories,” she says. “I always thought that if I can just show some girl reading this that she doesn’t have to just be acted upon….that’s something I continue to impress upon myself to do.”

Nadia was born in the United States but moved to Indonesia, where her father is from, at a young age. She lived there for about a decade before moving back to the Midwest. Her multi-national heritage has led her to identify as a “half immigrant half ex-pat” or TCK- “third culture kid.” This mixing of cultures, and the inner sense of longing for home, is what lends itself to some of her most beautiful storytelling.

Nadia believes her political science background taught her “power is not something that is necessarily uniquely tied to a character - it is a tool that can be dropped and picked up by someone else.” She tends to view the entire world through this lens, a vision that has definitely shaped her unique storytelling. She also cites literary icon Shirley Jackson (and specifically her book Hangsaman) as a major influence on her writing.

“The reason that I always put young women in my stories is because I never saw girls like me as the centerpiece and the actor with agency in stories.”

She also cites certain pieces of post-colonial work for inspiration, those that cross borders not only of nations but of genres, for allowing tinges of the unexplainable to seep into their literary narratives. This flexibility in genre is as important in writing as it is in life since we can’t always process everything we experience scientifically.

Nadia’s parents pushed her to read from a young age, recognizing her desire to form narratives early on. As an only child, making up stories was her way of “making sense of things” and allowing herself to have people around her. She began writing more literary tales but found that she “couldn’t keep ghosts out” of her stories. This is what helped her realize that her stories might fit better into the horror genre, at least from a marketing standpoint.

When I asked her, “Why ghosts?”, she told me that growing up in Indonesia, ghosts held a particularly strong foothold in her childhood folklore. Comparing it to America’s lessons in “stranger danger,” Nadia explained to me some of the fascinating history of the supernatural in Indonesian (and many other South Asian) cultures, “Indonesia loves ghosts. I think it’s an attraction to danger.”

Nadia makes a specific effort to avoid her identity becoming fetishized. She aims to debunk the stereotypes that Americans have of Indonesia. Growing up under an authoritarian regime led to self-doubt and vulnerability. But it’s also that sense of “otherness” that has helped her to push her own voice through the barrage of white cis-men that dominate the horror genre.

“When you’re part of a marginalized identify you learn to write like white dudes and you learn that that’s the standard.” While admitting that it’s easier to assimilate into this status quo way of writing, Nadia insists that the world needs more voices.

Her goal is to help elevate literary horror, a genre that is often (unfairly) overlooked by the writing community. While it’s true that many of her stories- and many “horror” stories in general- often fit into other genres, Nadia isn’t a fan of the blanket term “speculative fiction.” She says, “I identify with horror because I feel like there’s something about its aesthetic that is a philosophical perspective on the universe.”

“I identify with horror because I feel like there’s something about its aesthetic that is a philosophical perspective on the universe.”

Nadia has an easy confidence in herself and her innate writing skills that I admire. She explains that she’s gotten more comfortable infusing herself into her stories, finding “virtue in that vulnerability” and cites similar authors she admires that do the same, such as Gemma Files. She laughed when admitting that sometimes people comment on specific stories that are very autobiographical, responding to them, “Well, now you know exactly all of my insecurities because they are in that story.”

She’s also acutely aware of the writer’s journey and how often that journey doesn’t match up with the way publishers approach genre. “I think that everybody is constantly on a journey and we should normalize switching around,” she says. “I know that publishing isn’t really a fan of that but I wish it was much easier for people to draw from different sources.”

Nadia avoids being “too comfortable” with her writing which allows her to reach into and across different topics and genres. Many of Nadia’s stories feature Lovecraftian monsters and themes. Nadia is big on monsters because she likes the idea of them winning, especially if the reader identifies with the monster all along. She’s particularly fond of genre-agnostic monster stories like those by Karen Russell, Camilla Grudova, and Clare Beams. “When I write Lovecraftian stuff it’s always like, the real monster is you,” she says. “Especially the humans who have power, like Lovecraft, who would feel like it’s slipping away.”

What advice does Nadia have for emerging writers? “Write as if you don’t need to explain who you are,” she says, “Assume the reader will catch up to you.” She warns not to try and fit into a niche because you think you have to. Speaking to marginalized voices in particular, she reminds us that no one should have to write as if they’re a tour guide in order to pacify a white audience.

Like most other fiction writers, Nadia does have a day job. Doing most of her writing in the evenings, she credits this division with helping her feel liberated from that job but also vice versa. Being able to make a living outside of writing allows the craft to stay a necessary creative outlet for her. When she began writing, she was writing to every prompt she could find. As an aspiring fiction writer, I find myself doing the same. It’s comforting to know that someone as talented as Nadia started out where I am now.

I asked what topics she’d like to explore in the future and she said, “Cults of various kinds - MLM schemes, religions, self-help groups. I think the evolution of belief is fascinating. I also think writing about cults provides that rare opportunity to simultaneously depict a group that does harm but genuinely believes it does good. There's something very tragic and human about that.”

What’s next for Nadia? Surprisingly it’s not a horror novel but a memoir. As I make a mental note to buy a copy as soon as it’s published, I also tattoo her best piece of advice onto my brain: “Think grandiose and aim as big as you want to.”

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