Stories about Purgatorium: Mel E. Cober on Ivy
Welcome to the fifth blog in this series, where we'll explore the stories behind the stories in ID Press' inaugural anthology, Purgatorium - The Element of Horror.
The anthology will be released on January 22nd at the Copper Branch Restaurant in Brooklin (see the invite here), and is currently available for purchase through Amazon (in both hard copy and e-copy formats), as well as Kobo.
In this series, we'll be talking about the stories in the order in which they appear in the anthology. Today, we tackle Mel E. Cober and her story, Ivy... Where did it come from?
Ivy is about a little girl who hears a Dark Voice (I won’t tell you more as to not spoil it). A little over a year ago, I was approached by one of my good writer friends, Dale Long. He said I had to submit a short horror story for a secret project. An anthology of horror; created by a bunch of writers and friends.
I guess no one really knew I could write dark works until I read a short, creepy story at WCDR’s Words of the Season in January 2015.
It was my first time reading in front of an audience, and I was very nervous, but with the support of friends like Kevin Craig, Tobin Elliott and Dale Long (who are also in Purgatorium) I faced my fears and got up there.
My voice wavered though the whole thing, and I talked too fast, but something in that short tale got people talking. Tobin and Dale especially loved it, and to this day still bring it up. I really ought to polish that one up and submit it.
The story I read at Words of the Season was about an elderly couple living in the city, and, with Ivy, I went the opposite and put a little girl in the forest. Ivy is a much darker work, but it took my friends pushing me to bring out Ivy’s true potential. I’ve also always been interested in “Doomsday Preppers” and I got to touch on that as well while writing this story. There is no way Ivy could have become a story I came to be very proud of without the support, and help of our tight little group of writers.
Everyone knows I’m obsessed with all things orange, but many don’t know I grew up in Tillsonburg, Ontario, where I belonged to the poetry club in high school, and helped edit and sell our school’s annual poetry books. I haven’t written poems in probably twenty years now.
When I lived in the ‘burg, my jobs included stripping tobacco, being a terrible waitress and working for Rogers Video (I was the assistant manager).