Interview with a Lost Soul
By T.J. Tranchell
When I was 15, I got myself into some legal trouble. Not as bad as some kids, but definitely worse than most. Part of my consequences included anger management counseling. That year, before the final trouble, I had started reading Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles and had even managed to get in to see Interview with the Vampire despite it being rated R and me being in rural Utah.
I loved those books and that movie. I bought a sweet T-shirt with a huge red V on it promoting the movie. One day, I wore that shirt when I saw my counselor. I didn’t like him much before that day, but he started asking me about the movie. He used the phrase “latent homosexuality” as a huge negative regarding the film. And, as you might expect, he asked me if I thought I was gay.
That’s when I first knew how important it was to be an ally. I defended the movie and books from this attack and defended myself. I knew then that I wasn’t gay and am a white cishet straight male today (basically I look exactly like the enemy). But my defense that day was, “So what if I am? Why does that matter to you? Would it be a big deal if I was?”
Being the contrarian that I am, I dove deeper into goth culture and learned even more about nonheteronormative lifestyles. And vampires, of course. Always vampires.
During this dark exploration, I heard about the book Lost Souls. Written by Billy Martin (as Poppy Z. Brite), I became entranced with the nuance and variety of relationships. It’s easy to look at these stories and only see them for the sex. Some books and films function solely for that purpose. But Lost Souls did more than that. Sex was dangerous if there wasn’t some kind of love with it. You could love someone deeply and have nothing about that love be about sex.
Again, for me at the time, this was more about people minding their own business than about sex and love. I didn’t (and don’t) like people up in my business. I don’t like the times — and as a college instructor, it’s almost daily — when I have to stand in authority over a group of generally younger and less white people. Interview with the Vampire and Lost Souls taught me some people have to hide who they are in order to survive. These books also taught me that no one should have to hide to survive. In order for that to happen, we all need allies.
In high school, during my goth/vampire depths, I also learned about Vampire: The Masquerade, and I played a lot with my friend Dee. Dee and I were in high school drama together and had our share of shenanigans. We lost touch after I moved away. I heard stories about Dee from other friends and none of them were good or healthy. I eventually found myself in a small town in the middle of the Nevada desert. One day, I had a message that some girl named Dee had called, left a phone number, and wanted me to call her back. I didn’t know any girls named Dee, but the caller also left a last name that matched that of my old high school friend.
Do you see where this is going? Dee didn’t have to change her name when she came out as trans. She called a few people from our high school days (including my stepmother in a successful attempt to track me down), but I seemed to be the most receptive. Remember, we were friends in Utah (which I hear is taking one step forward for every two steps backward on these issues) and that was the home of the counselor who basically tried to shame me about watching a movie with queer themes. The books I’d read and the movies I’d seen helped me understand my friend and what she was going through. For me, there was never a question about support. My support was and is 100 percent right from the start.
Many of the books and movies in the horror genre don’t treat these subjects and themes — and therefore the people associated with them — with the compassion we need to have. There are far too many trans-identifying serial killers who cause more harm to the real trans community than to any fictional victim. I’m looking at you, Buffalo Bill. We have to look harder for positives. For every screaming shocked reaction like The Crying Game, there should be more like Chuck Palahniuk’s Invisible Monsters. We need more like Louis who knows it’s not just about sex. We need more Steve Finn and Ghost, the members of the band LOST SOULS? to see how relationships can exist beyond sex and romance.
Books and film — writers — taught me this. Writers taught me that being an ally needs to be as much of a 24/7 life as the LGBTQA+ existence is for those who identify as such. These books and movies also taught me that we don’t always know who we are when we are 15 and that’s okay. We can and should continue to evolve. More importantly, LGBTQA+ kids need to live long enough to evolve and far too many of them never get the chance to be the best versions of themselves.
Sometimes a book or a movie can be just for fun. But if someone tells you there is something wrong with what you are reading or watching, you need to ask what that might mean about that person and realize that maybe they are trying to keep you from learning something about the world and even learning something about yourself. 🩸
About
T.J. Tranchell was born on Halloween and grew up in Utah. He has published the novella Cry Down Dark and the collections Asleep in the Nightmare Room and The Private Lives of Nightmares with Blysster Press and Tell No Man, a novella with Last Days Books. In October 2020, The New York Times called Cry Down Dark the scariest book set in Utah. He holds a Master’s degree in Literature from Central Washington University and attended the Borderlands Press Writers Boot Camp in 2017. He currently lives in Washington State with his wife and son. Follow him at www.tjtranchell.net or on Twitter @TJ_Tranchell.
Follow MANOR on Bluesky, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Threads, TikTok, X, YouTube, and other sites via Linktree.
© 2023 Manor Entertainment LLC
