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The following interview is with Mark W. Coulter, author of Needs to be Met in The Beast Within.

Hi, Mark. Could you start us off with a little info about yourself? We here on the forums are so used to seeing text and avatars that it can be easy to forget there are human beings behind the words. What’s a day-in-the-life-of-Mark Coulter like?

A: Well, my days can get pretty busy. Weekdays, there’s my day job of testing software for a local health company. Usually after work I go to a martial arts class of some sort a school that teaches multiple styles, great exercise. After that I may have some kind of get together with friends, hopefully get some usual time in to write in the evening. Weekends always have something different going on. I have plenty of different social groups I hang out with and often take a quick weekend trip down to Oregon to see some old friends, or up to Vancouver to see a few others. Honestly I love Seattle being right between and there are always tons of activities locally as well. That can be a good and bad thing, as far as being productive in my writing.

As a writer, what do you find is the most challenging part about crafting fiction, and how do you overcome it?

A: I find the hardest part is often getting truly started. Sometimes it’s in the form of having trouble actually sitting down to write, finding too much to do in a day. Or I might start on a great inspiration and have a first couple lines I like, then just be unsure how to take that exposition from point A to point B and still keep it interesting. I find music often helps in both cases. I have a few instrumental pieces on my laptop that serve as almost an invocation to writing. Certain tones inside just get my mind working more smoothly. Or if I find that a character or story just has a certain theme song, I might use that to kind of “wake it up” and get it to talk. I also have a whole writing playlist with a good deal of classical and some instrumentals by Danny Elfman, John Williams and the like. For me those are very handy in starting the process and keeping it flowing once I really get into it.

What initiated your interest in the horror genre?

A: That’s actually a tough thing to determine. Even as a kid there was some kind of interest. It was a bit strange because I couldn’t stand horror on one level when I was very young because it was so easy for my imagination to run away with me. Trailers or even just movie posters would give me nightmares and even get me terrified of some things in broad daylight. And I couldn’t watch the real horror movies other kids talked about. Yet I was also always interested in monsters and all the little facts and legends about the classic ones. Play would almost always turn to some kind of light horror scenario. I was easily into the Ghostbusters craze of the 80’s and certain friends and I must have watched Monster Squad a thousand times. And of course I always loved Halloween and can remember many instances of daring to try and watch some of the spooky stuff on TV, even knowing the price I’d pay that night. So I couldn’t say what truly started the interest. I just know that as I started to grow up, I was able to really go where my mind always wanted to take me, and finally not lose sleep over it. Not too much at any rate. In my adolescent and teenage years I got more and more into the genre, taking in just about everything I could. Now it’s actually kind of a treat when I can find anything that truly scares me, when I can get some of that old nostalgic feeling back again.

Any personal experiences where you might’ve felt like a character in a horror novel?

A: Well, there’s spending a number of years as an imaginative and inquisitive child in the public school system, but I’m not sure that really counts in context. I’ve had a few minor moments of horror-style fear. Old houses, places that seemed to have the potential of something dark there, that look like the right setting that kind of thing. But the best I can think of happened in a studio apartment that I rented in college. Was an older building and the apartment was a small box of a studio with a bathroom off to the side. I used to always get the feeling of being watched in that bathroom in particular. For a while the feeling would persist and steadily got stronger. Then one evening I came home and felt a presence in the whole apartment as soon as I opened the door. I can’t describe it beyond something that had just spread through the entire room. And the shower curtain that I had closed in the morning in that bathroom was wide open. I wish I could say I opened up and communicated with the other side, but the truth is that I freaked out completely, turned on as much of my own music as I could. After a little while, the presence literally seemed to recede back into the bathroom. I honestly think we scared each other and she (I’d come to believe it was a female ghost in some form, having some other impressions throughout the time) decided to retreat and stay back there. A few other little disturbances happened in the time I lived there but nothing major and nothing that amounts to real proof. But it’s certainly made me keep an open mind about this sort of thing.

Is there a specific aspect of the genre that is particularly appealing to you?

A: I’ve often joked that no matter what’s happening in your life, horror movies and stories can make you feel like you definitely don’t have it that bad at all. But that’s not the main thing about it that makes me enjoy it. It’s really a combination of the sense of possibility that runs throughout the genre and the ability to face the fears that most people don’t like to think about. There’s something alluring about that dark “What if?” that lets us peek into the corners of the world. It brings an element of wonder because much of horror doesn’t take place in a far away land or another galaxy (much as those are fun to visit too). But more often, horror happens in our own world, just a slight offset. And there’s something oddly alluring about the situation in horror when a character is put to the test, when they no longer are worried about the day-to-day grind because they simply have to survive. That’s the best way I can put one thing I love about the genre, but I really just enjoy all of it for reasons I can’t easily define.

Writer’s block strikes sooner or later; are there any home remedies or writing exercises you use to stave off the dreaded curse?

A: Oh, that’s happened plenty of times for me in many different forms. The music I mentioned above is sometimes a help for the little instances. In the times when I go days or even weeks without writing anything, I’ve tried a few different exercises, some have even worked. One odd one is to start with writing a third person narrative about what I’m doing. Something starting like, “Mark sat at the keyboard, trying to think of something intelligent to say?” and going on from there. That’s had an occasional surprising impact that after a paragraph I’m ready to open an actual project and start working. Another exercise I’ve found if I’m stressing about trying to get a project write on the absolute first try (something that plagues me all too often I fear) is to lower the stakes. I’ll open up my word processor and pick a point of view, setting, and characters at random. Then I just write something, anything in that vein that I know never has to see the light of day. The kind of jump-starts me into realizing that I can actually turn out something that will be all right, after reading back over a couple semi-decent paragraphs. Physical exercise is another good one. If I open up the computer and nothing wants to come out, I’ll go do 20 minutes or so of running or other aerobics with my headphones playing the right music. That can really help get ideas started.

You mentioned in your bio that Needs to be Met was your first publication. Do you have any new projects in the works, or some place we can see more of your work?

A: I have a few projects that I’m working on. A couple Halloween stories. One is finished and I’m trying to find a home for it. The other is almost finished, just one scene to be inserted then I’ll see where I can send it. I have a Cthulhu mythos story to start working on soon for another anthology call I’ve seen out there. I’m also currently working, oddly enough, on a werewolf novel, a sort of detective story. As for other work, there’s not much place to see it currently. Anything else I’ve practiced on hasn’t really been for any public display.

When the submission call went out for Beast Within, what was the first idea that came to mind? What made you choose the were-creatures in your story?

A: Well, I knew I wanted to think of something for submission. I’ve always loved the lycanthrope sub-genre in particular and I just needed an idea. I thought about trying to make a short story about the character in my werewolf novel, but nothing leaped to mind. Next I started trying to decide if I wanted to do a standard werewolf or try to think of another form of creature. Then I thought about a story involving a pick-up where you couldn’t quite be sure who the creature or predator was. After that, I just had one of those flashes of inspiration where everything fit into place. The perfect were-creature for the scenario that was brewing in my head. It all just worked together, the whole idea, there wasn’t much choosing to do once that came together. It was a nice feeling.

Could you give us a non-spoiler synopsis of your story Needs to be Met?

A: Sure, though I’ll have to be brief since it’s a bit of a short story. Stephen has had bad luck hunting the bar scene in a night when he could really use some company. When almost out of hope, he finally sees the right woman walk into the bar and manages to hit it off with her. Despite a few concerns, the two of them are more than ready to head to her place for what comes naturally. As for what comes after, well, I’d hate to ruin the story.

Thanks, Mark!

And now, here’s an excerpt of Needs to be Met from The Beast Within:

NEEDS TO BE MET, BY MARK W. COULTER

The bar was abuzz with activity, but Stephen couldn’t find what he was searching for. There were groups of businessmen kicking back after a hard day’s work, a few regular couples at tables clearly enjoying their favorite hang-out together, and a glut of single men just like him, all drinking to the sound of old rock music from the seventies and eighties on the sound system. The few single women that had been in Harvey’s when Stephen first arrived had already become half of a burgeoning couple, selecting a mate for a single night at least.
Harvey’s was usually the perfect mix of action and relaxed atmosphere, giving it the typical-corner-bar feel that Stephen always enjoyed. With a set group of regulars but enough outside traffic that it wasn’t the same faces every evening, it was almost always the perfect place to meet a woman for the night. But the bar seemed to be having a slow night to begin with, and he’d arrived later than the prime hour for finding a good match.
As he scanned the place, his eyes met with those of another regular guy looking around the packed room. Something passed between them in that instant before both looked back to their drinks. It wasn’t the sort of thing that made Stephen think he’d have to explain his orientation to the other man in a few minutes, more a sort of knowledge as they searched for the same thing.
Wow, we’ve both struck out tonight, haven’t we? Well, back to the beer.
Stephen sighed under his breath as he took another drink of his Sam Adams. Normally the feeling of striking out wouldn’t be so bad, but he hadn’t really been able to get to bat tonight. If he’d been in just a little earlier, it all might have been different, but he’d had to work late fixing a proposal for the next day. Halfway through the work, he’d begun to feel the distracting need for companionship. The feeling had grown into a dull ache as he felt trapped at work and thought about facing the night alone. With an effort to focus, he put the last touches on the billboard layout and the storyboard for the TV concept. It wasn’t exactly the way he’d wanted it, but he would be able to do some touch-up work in the morning before the presentation. And he’d been positive by then that some new face at Harvey’s was just waiting for him to show up.
Now, with that same need still gnawing at his insides, he debated between ordering another beer and waiting a while longer, or swallowing his pride and trying the obnoxious club down the street, the one with the flashing lights and ear-pounding techno music.
He was reaching for his wallet when he heard the front door open.
Stephen turned, along with just about every other lone male in the room, to see her step inside. At first glance he placed her at maybe a year or two older than himself. The low-cut blue dress that gently hugged her body perfectly accentuated all her features. Her long black hair cascaded thickly past her shoulders, and her slender frame boasted a pair of pert, rounded breasts that almost immediately caught Stephen’s eye before he looked upwards. Her face was just a bit care worn, but still pretty, almost more so because of that factor. Most important, as she came into the bar and looked around before taking a stool at the outside edge, she had all the earmarks of a single woman looking for someone to spend the night with. It was in her face and the way she moved as she sat down and scanned the room just as he had moments ago.
Stephen began to feel more optimistic about the night, but the next moments were critical. If he rushed to her too soon he’d look desperate and a bit creepy, but if he waited too long, someone else was sure to approach her first, and he’d be right back where he started. He had to wait, had to keep an eye on the rest of the guys in the bar and avoid staring at her, yet still keep an eye on her and?
Fuck it, he thought and stood up. Let’s face facts, I am desperate tonight.
He set an even pace to her stool, doing his best to keep the creepy factor low. No cheesy pick-up lines, no hackneyed questions about if she frequented Harvey’s regularly. He was a regular, he knew she wasn’t. Just straight forward talk; if she was interested, she’d probably let him know. He moved to the stool next to hers and smiled.
“Hi. Do you mind if I sit here and buy you a drink?”
She looked at him and smiled back. A good sign. “Not at all. I’ll have a whiskey sour.”
The bartender was already on his way over, and Stephen ordered her whiskey sour and another beer for himself. Taking the second bottle as the bartender began mixing her drink, he looked back at her.
“I’m Stephen.”
“Charlene,” she said with a friendly nod. “Though really, most people call me Charlie.”
Already getting the friendly name. A definite good sign. Now say something else, quick.
“I like Charlie, kind of suits you. You’d think I’d go by Steve or something like that, but it’s always just Stephen. So, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before?”
Nice. Real smooth. You managed to babble a bit and then do a variation on the “Come here often?” line. Why don’t you just ask what her “sign” is and finish the job?
To his relief, Charlie took a sip of her drink and kept smiling. “No, this place was just kind of close to the theatre tonight. Seems nice, though. And I think Stephen’s better than Steve. Steve is a high school jock or a gas station attendant. Stephen is a successful adult, like an executive or a programmer.”
“Thanks. I’m in advertising, actually.” He leaned against the side of the bar and took a drink of his beer as they smiled at each other. Stephen could see her getting ready to ask about what he did in advertising, but it was the last thing he wanted to talk about. The only thing she might have seen were some commercials for retirement planning that involved two chickens trying to cross a busy street.
Best to head her off first. “So was it a movie or a play?”
“What?”
“The theatre you came from. Were you seeing a movie or a play?”
“Oh. Of course.” She gave a little musical laugh. “It was just a movie tonight. My adult treat every few weeks. I get a sitter and go see a good old sappy chick flick. Maybe have a drink or two afterward.”
A sitter? Stephen hadn’t expected her to have kids. It wasn’t so unusual, but it complicated things. He always preferred to find someone with no attachments that essentially wanted the same thing he did. Still, she might not be looking for a second father for them right now. Best to test the waters before giving up.
“So getting away from the kids for a night, huh?”
“Yes. They’re my four little darlings, but after a while, when they’re scuttling around under foot, I just need a night to be an adult again. A little me time.”
Much more than Stephen expected. To him, four seemed like an impossible number of rug rats running around. How on Earth could they possibly spend the night together? They’d be starting to get close and then someone would have a nightmare or need a glass of water or some other thing. And that brought up another issue as well.
“So I take it their father ?”
“He’s ? no longer with us.” She said it without any rancor or sadness, but just a slight wistfulness creeping into her tone.
Oh, masterful. Now she’s thinking about a dead husband. You really are a charmer, Stephen. Give it up, man.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“It’s okay. It’s been a while, and it’s just ? well it’s the way things are.”
“Yeah,” Stephen agreed somberly, but he couldn’t think of anything else to salvage the campaign. What had seemed like potential for a fulfilling night a few moments ago had crashed and burned in just a few bonehead statements at the wrong time.
“Still,” he said, plodding on to avoid an uncomfortable silence, “it sounds like you manage to take care of them, and yourself.”
Charlie smiled a little at that and nodded. “That’s true. We manage. Though it’s not always easy.” Her hand suddenly moved to where his own lay on the bar. “There are needs to be met.”
Surprised, Stephen looked at her eyes now. They were staring at him as her fingers played over the back of his hand, looking with a kind of longing into his own. “That’s ? something I can understand,” he said, realizing that the cause wasn’t quite so lost.
“I’ll be honest, Stephen. Being a single mother can be really lonely. I’m not here searching for a man that wants to help raise kids; I can handle that myself. I just ? I really don’t want to sleep alone tonight. And I don’t want to spend the whole night talking and testing the waters. I want you to come home with me.” Her fingers massaged his hand like a gentle promise of the night to come. “I think that’s what you want, too.”
Saying a silent thanks to God, Buddha, Crom, or whoever had helped him out tonight, Stephen nodded. He didn’t care any more about the fact that they might be interrupted or that she might have extra baggage. It was an open invitation, and they both wanted the same thing. It couldn’t have been more perfect.
“It is. I’d love to,” he said.
She leaned into him and placed the other hand on his thigh, kissing him on the cheek. “Pay for the drinks. I’ll grab us a cab.”
As Charlie turned to go out to the sidewalk and he reached for his wallet, Stephen noticed a red mark on her skin peeking just above the cut of her dress. After he’d paid for the drinks and stepped out to meet her, he asked, “What happened to your back?”

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