‘Spectrum’ Editor Aquino Loayza and Author John Wiswell Talk Neurodivergent Representation In Horror
Mary Beth McAndrews
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Mental health and horror are so often tackled through the lens of personality disorders or depression. But what about other experiences with neurodivergence that exist outside of stereotype and ableism? I can tell you, there isn’t much, but thanks to editors Aquino Loayza, Lor Gislason, and Freydis Moon, we have much more due to their anthology Spectrum: An Autistic Horror Anthology, featuring 20 stories by neurodivergent authors.
In Spectrum,
Deep in the recesses of our minds are twisted realities that so closely mirror our own. In these pages, our nightmares are laid bare, made to manifest. There is no waking up; there is no going back once you fall into the tapestry of terrors that await. Are you ready? From courteous neighbors gone awry to the burning brightness of everlasting daylight comes Spectrum: An Autistic Horror Anthology reflective of the vast array of neurodivergent artists in our community.
We spoke with Spectrum editor Aquino Loayza and author John Wiswell about the importance of neurodivergent representation in horror, writing the weird, and cosmic horror.
Dread Central: Can you tell me a little bit about what Spectrum is and why you came up with the idea?
Aquino Loayza: So Spectrum originally was born as a concept to spotlight Autistic authors. But pretty quickly on, I kind of realized the intersectionality of neurodivergence and neurodiversity, and then we realized that it would be a great opportunity to spotlight people all across the spectrum, artistically or otherwise. It was something that was really meaningful to me. Autism is a big part of my identity as a person of color with autism. I don’t find a lot of people who are like me out in the wild. So it’s really awesome to give other people those opportunities, to hear their voices, and show people that we’re here and we’re not here to play. There’s some serious talent in this project.
DC: Hell yeah. So Spectrum is labeled as an autistic horror anthology. In each story, does Neurodivergence have to be the center of it, or is it just authors and how they identify?
AL: I think there’s this fun intersection of some artists that manifests a little bit differently for them, and there’s this variance where some people are explicitly talking about autism. For example, I have a story in there that my character doesn’t say I’m autistic, but the character is autistic. So it’s leaving artists to give as much information about themselves as they feel comfortable in their art and allowing them to just get the platform. What’s important is that the artist is of a neurodivergent background, not necessarily that the art that they’re making is. But when you are of that background, it informs the way that you craft and it informs the opportunities you’re given sometimes. So as somebody in that position, I wanted to spread the love.
DC: John, you’re one of the authors in the anthology. How did you get involved with this anthology in particular?
John Wisewell: I wrote a story out of passion. It wasn’t solicited by Spectrum. In reading about the mission for the anthology, I was just so smitten. You don’t really see opportunities for neurodivergent writers to be highlighted. And if you succeeded, you would share a spotlight with a lot of other neurodivergent writers. What’s so appealing is that this is designed to share attention because there isn’t one neurodivergent, there isn’t one autism. The whole point of calling it Spectrum is this beautiful idea. The people in this anthology will not agree with each other because we don’t have the same lived experience. It’s a breadth. And so the idea of being part of it was wonderful. I was a little intimidated at first because my story isn’t about a woman who says like, “Hey, I’m autistic. Here’s how being autistic affects my existence.” I don’t wake up in the morning and go like, “I’m going to drink my neurodivergent coffee. I’m going to go to my neurodivergent job.” [Laughs]
So having neurodivergency simply be the lens, and just writing an expression of the self was so liberating. And then that’s a lens to talk about horror because horror is just about my favorite genre to read and to watch and to play as well. And the stories are just so refreshing. I genuinely relaxed as I was reading the guidelines, which does not happen. I’ll say that’s pretty rare to be like, “Oh yes, these guidelines are not terrifying.”
DC: Well, that actually brings up a thing I’m thinking about. In writing a story for this collection, did it feel like for you, for both of you almost, unmasking might not be the right word, but was there a more relief feeling like you didn’t have to almost explain the perspective you’re bringing to maybe a neurotypical editor? Or was there a difference for either of you in writing this or being a part of this that felt better than working in other spaces?
JW: I found it deeply liberating. My story managed to talk a lot about dating while asexual, only because I knew I didn’t have to carry the load of explaining what it is to be that that could be taken for granted, and then it could be neurodivergence while asexual, while navigating fraught friendships, while navigating ascension migraine. That’s stalking you, what we all live through.
AL: For me, I came up with the concept. This was something that I was like, “I really need to do this” because I wanted to give people the opportunity to feel liberated in their art. And I feel like too often art is trying to put certain parameters that people believe will sell. I hope Spectrum sells. But my first integral core tenet that I was operating under was giving artists the opportunity to express themselves and give me a piece of themselves. All the people who submitted, I told them genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you for showing your vulnerability to me. That is the most important thing that artists can do, and it’s really, really meaningful.
I started off with the short story that I wrote for Spectrum and I was like, “Am I going to do a collection for myself or do I want to do an anthology?” And I was like, I’m going to do an anthology. So the story “Neighborly” is mine and the inspiration for doing it. It’s just about this guy who lives in this crappy apartment and his neighbor’s making a bunch of racket and he goes to confront his neighbor about it, and it’s not what he expected at all.
DC: Hell yeah. Well, I mean, that’s got to be nice too. When I’ve written about neurodivergence, it’s always been nice to have a neurodivergent editor who really gets where you’re coming from and doesn’t need you to over-explain or makes you perhaps feel bad about your communication style. So again, it’s got to be nice in a way to know that you’re in good hands with editing. You won’t have to maybe explain yourself as much as you might have to in other volumes, websites, or wherever you’re getting published.
JW: Yeah. Also, you know that you’re going to have a second pair of eyes that has enough experience with things like what you’ve dealt with to help you clarify it, to help it get through to other people. So not only are you not going to get censored, but they helped me clarify some of the things I was trying to express that I couldn’t do on my own. I don’t think some other editors would be able to do that. And that’s also beautiful.
DC: That’s cool. That’s so cool. What a cool experience. I feel like horror lit is such a cool place right now. It’s always been cool, but right now there’s so much cool stuff happening with Spectrum, with trans writers, with actually getting diverse perspectives out there. I know we’re not perfect, but it’s just really cool to see the horror lit space flourishing like this.
AL: Yes, absolutely.
DC: But John, I want to hear about your story. What is the name of your story and tell us a little bit about it.
JW: Sure. So the name of my story is, “But The Wifi Is Great”.
DC: Love that.
JW: It’s about a young woman who has, let’s say, a not-great breakup with a boyfriend who says he understands her asexuality but keeps pushing her boundaries. And so she needs to shelter somewhere, and she drops by this very remote motel, very rundown, but very tidy. But the wifi is great. As soon as she shows up, there’s this terrible migraine that falls over her. Immediately she starts seeing ocular hallucinations that almost suggest something is following her around the motel. She can’t tell exactly what, and it’s hard to focus on. The more she looks at it, the worse the migraine gets. But it’s almost like it’s trying to tell her something
DC: I love that so much and cannot wait to experience that as well. Are you a migraine haver?
JW: Oh, yes. I did years of research having migraines, really committed to the bit. [Laughs]
DC: It sounds like both of you are horror fans. What are your favorite kinds of horror and is there a particularly terrifying piece of film you’ve seen that has shaped you as a horror lover?
AL: For me, it’s funny because my favorite film only really alludes to the genre. It doesn’t really neatly exist within it, but I was a big cosmic horror person growing up in New England by the water, that eldritch unknowable things beneath the tides is something that really resonates with me. I’m reclaiming it from Lovecraft one person of color at a time.
DC: I call it cosmic horror instead of Lovecraftian. Again, we’re slowly pushing him out of it and making more room for people to make better cosmic horror art that isn’t ableist, racist, etc.
AL: Absolutely. I would say cosmic horror. I consider myself an optimistic nihilist. So definitely existentialism is something that is meaningful to me in the way that I create and the way that I experience the world. But the film that I would choose is The Lighthouse, which is not really a horror movie, but has enough ties and enough atmosphere to it. I could view it as a romantic comedy. I could view it as a two-man show, so to speak. It’s a fantastic film. Everything about it is ambiguous, and I really love stories that are a little bit nonsensical, a little bit funny, and I think that’s really key. And I thought that story was terrifying in its earnestness and its exploration of two men going crazy.
JW: I hope I’m allowed to give a broad answer because I just love horror. So my favorite genres, if we’re talking film specifically, I grew up on Slashers, and so now I love a good meta slasher. Final Girls was just a fantastic meta slasher about diving into a movie your mom starred in to save her this time. I love good cosmic horror. Probably my favorite cosmic horror movie is either In The Mouth of Madness or Coherence. Coherence is a much smaller movie, much less heard of, but it’s basically like a comet passes overhead and brings a bunch of our alternate realities too close to each other.
DC: Funny, I just referenced Coherence in an article the other day. I love that movie.
JW: Yeah, it’s so good. And they did it with nothing. They turned a very low-budget thing into just such a beautiful idea. All the actors are amazing because they nail that naturalism of a dinner party that got interrupted by a horror movie, which is just a fun thing to do in itself. And then, I don’t know what the genre term is for this artsy horror, but I love a good art-house horror movie. I love the movie Raw. That’s just about this lady who can’t stop craving flesh after being a vegan her whole life. That’s Julia Ducournau’s first big movie, and she’s brilliant. But Raw is such a great character study, and I think a lot of the best horror is a deep dive into things we’re afraid about ourselves. That movie nails that. So that’s maybe too many answers, but that’s what came out of me when you asked.
DC: Before we wrap up, Aquino, can you tell us all where and when people can find Spectrum?
AL: Spectrum is available online at your Barnes and Nobles, your Amazons, your big retailers. You can also order a copy with an art card signed by the cover artist, which is a hand-drawn cover, on our website, thirdestatebooks.com. Heavily recommend doing that. [Jonathan LaMantia] is the sweetest person I’ve met in the horror sphere.
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