I’ve always been obsessed with horror. Ever since I was a child, when I slept with my siblings and primas, we would tell each other scary stories in the middle of the night to get us to sleep. Every night we took turns telling stories, and the stories seemed to get scarier and scarier. When it was my night to tell a story to the group, I knew I had to bring the best scares. I found myself telling stories until the bodies of my sisters and primas tensed with fear. I knew then that horror stories were something I could weave. There is something about having fear knotted in your stomach; it’s like riding a roller coaster and waiting for the thrill of the fall.
Horror has always been a part of my life, so it seemed natural to work on a book like “The Black Girl Survives in This One.” Both my brothers were obsessed with the genre and I was one of the youngest siblings, so it was mostly up to them to babysit me. Like most older siblings, my brothers lived to tease me. It was all a joke or a terrifying moment. So it was natural for them to invite me to movie nights where we watched films like “Candyman” (1992) with Tony Todd; “Child’s Play” (1988), where a white man uses voodoo to transfer his soul onto a doll in order to escape the police; “Night of the Living Dead” (1968), directed by Bronx native George A. Romero; and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (1984). While those movies scared me, I found myself facing my fears head on, not only to prove to my brothers that I could handle whatever they threw at me, but also to prove to myself that I could watch face to danger. and survive.
Once I got over my fears, I immediately started loving gore – jump scares were my favorite too. I became obsessed with how the actors, the music in the film, and everything else contributed to the creepiness of everything. Horror is a genre in which we can explore the things that freak us out, that don’t make sense, and that play on our fears. I always found courage watching these films, and when I discovered slashers and the “final girl”, I wanted to be one.
“The Black Girl Survives in This One” is an anthology of short horror stories, ranging from ghost stories to zombie stories, written by writers including Monica Brashears, Vincent Tirado, Zakiya Dalila Harris, Maika and Maritza Moulite, and others. It also includes a foreword written by horror luminary Tananarive Due. There is something for everyone in this book, and in the end, the main character – a black girl – survives the horrors of the day. The most important message we wanted to convey to readers, especially black girls, is that despite the serious obstacles you may encounter in this life, you are strong enough to endure, survive, and still emerge victorious. We are not our fears, even if society tries to tell us otherwise.
While I love the horror genre, it has not been kind or inclusive to Black, Indigenous, Latinx, and other people of color. So I wanted to write myself in the genre, to write a story featuring a black Latina who is fierce and also loves the horror genre. In my short story, “Cemetery Dance Party,” I pay tribute to all the people who sparked my love of horror, from Michael Jackson’s famous hit song and music video “Thriller” to “Night of the Dead.” alive” by Romero. This was the first film where I saw a black man survive the horror of the undead, only to be filmed by a white man at the end. This scene stayed with me. It is haunting to believe that as a black person you can escape zombies, but you cannot escape white supremacy.
My first book, “Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed,” was a nonfiction anthology that examined various aspects of Latino identity, overturning myths and stereotypes about our cultures, and a dialogue about addiction, racism, and anti-blackness within our community. It featured essays by bestselling and award-winning writers like Elizabeth Acevedo, Ingrid Rojas Contreras, Naima Coster, Natasha Diaz, Janel Martinez and others. I looked forward to continuing the identity conversation and amplifying Black voices across the diaspora. So it was an easy decision for me to then want to tackle horror, which has been so exclusive to black people and people of color. After having a Zoom conversation with my anthology co-editor, Desiree S. Evans, we decided to center black girls and make them the “final girl” trope that we always wanted to see more of in the cinema and books.
The process was quite similar to my experience with “Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed”, but this time we thought it was important to host an open call to discover new voices in horror. It was amazing to receive so many submissions; there are many talented writers just waiting for the publishing industry to give them the opportunity to tell our stories.
Writing and editing “The Black Girl Survives in This One” was healing for my inner teenage self, who endured so much in high school; sometimes I felt like I wouldn’t survive the pressure of making new friends, balancing schoolwork, and preparing for college classes. Writing my short story “Cemetery Dance Party” was very nostalgic because I was able to write myself into a horror comedy story that I always wanted to see. The story follows Alle, an Afro Latina from the Bronx who loves track but recently got injured and is healing so she can rejoin the team and earn her team a victory. She is also class president and responsible for organizing the senior class party. She decides to host him at the famous Woodlawn Cemetery, and it’s the perfect setting for chaos to ensue among the hormone-fueled, alcohol-fueled teenagers. Alle and her friends go through the challenge during the night, but she survives in the end, and that’s all that matters.
This is a very important read for Black women – including Latina readers – because we never see ourselves in genres like this. Just look at how all the best shows that represented us were canceled, from “Lovecraft Country” to “The Horrors of Dolores Roach.” Even though those shows were crazy, the networks still decided that no one could relate to Leti in “Lovecraft” and Dolores, but the problem was, we did and we wanted more. I want readers to know that they matter; their place is in horror, and “The Black Girl Survives in This One” is just the beginning of us entering the genre to become the heroes we deserve to be and see ourselves as!
Saraciea J. Fennell is a Black Honduran American writer born in Brooklyn and originally from the Bronx. She is the editor and author of the anthologies “Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed” and “The Black Girl Survives in This One.” Her work centers on Black and Latinx identity and has appeared on PS, Remezcla, Culturess, Refinery29 and Mitú.
