This weekend I attended my first horror convention called Monster Mania. It was almost embarrassing that in all my decades of consuming horror film and lore, I had no idea there were actual shows dedicated to the genre.

I had an absolutely great time. A floor and a half were filled with vendors who sold posters, hats, tee shirts, mugs, candles, jewelry, collectible figures, novels, short stories, and comic books, and other such wares. Attendees were walking around donning Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Chucky, Leatherface, and other such costumes.

A gazillion conversations popped about the latest film and literature releases, where you could buy the coolest gear and collectible items, which vendors had the best deals, and which movie celebrities they got to see. There were film screenings and a costume contest. I’m quite sure there were after-parties at the hotel in which the convention was being held, but I was back home in bed by that time.

There were a handful of movie stars available to sign autographs, take photos, and share stories about their time on set, the actors and directors with whom they worked, and their favorite and worst scenes. There were a few panel discussions that included these stars, the rooms of which were packed to the gills. It was great to see them up close and personal, waxing poetic about their glory days on the dark screen.

One of the highlights for me was talking to the visual artists who were selling their work, who shared the process of their craft. There was some incredible 3D printing and framework, oil paintings, multimedia layering of both cult and original characters. There were both slick and glossy, and gritty and funky posters and tee shirts. Blacks, dark reds, dark blues, and grays in old period pieces and grungy contemporary font styles and textures provided ocular candy to the viewer.

The authors were outstanding as well, their books having highly creative and original storytelling. They shared their trials, tribulations, and successes in the manuscript, editing, publishing, and distribution process. Their covers were eye-catching. I performed my standard ritual, rubbing the beautiful matte finishes, then opening the books to inhale their scent.

I even exchanged MFA thesis books with one author, our lives almost paralleling, as we came of age in the punk/industrial scene, had brief stints in a band (actually mine never played out), and ended up working at universities.

It literally took me two and a half days to absorb everything. The first day was about scouting the landscape, then the rest was interacting with the vendors and focusing on what I liked before making my purchases. Saturday and Sunday my backpack was loaded with stuff, which got pretty difficult to handle after a while, with hours walking and standing on the floors which consisted of rugs overtop concrete. Very bad for my back and knees. Thank goodness for the hotel bag check.

I loved hearing the knowledge and expertise of each vendor, listening to their involvement in their craft, and the latest news of it. Everyone was so passionate about horror and was dedicated to its authenticity. There was no Hollywoodization whatsoever. I hardly saw any Twilight nor any other of the highly produced films memorabilia at all.

Many of us railed against the slick and polished remakes of original and cult classics. How dare they, we would retort. To us, it is another sign that when Hollywood runs out of ideas, they go to the tried and true to make another go of it. As far as I’m concerned, all that money and resources going to a remake could be much better spent on new manuscripts. There are so many talented writers and directors out there, no production company ever has to make a remake – ever (unless it’s Candyman, of course).

This is why independent filmmakers and companies are so critical, not just to the horror genre, but any film genre. They are the ones that come up with great stories for films, and the films themselves are compelling.

What I learned from the VHS Preservation Society – dedicated to preserving the originality of horror films – is that the companies who own the rights to these films will edit their content, even remove some original songs and replace them with others

I was appalled when I heard this. What these companies are doing to these beloved films totally ruins their integrity. When asked, the founder of the society simply said it was their license to do it. To me, it is both unethical and sacrilegious. If I were a filmmaker, I would be tearing my hair out to know this was being done. It is an affront, not just the people who sweated and toiled to make these films happen, but to the adoring fans who would go to the theaters to watch them, and to their local video stores to rent them.

And herein lies the woes of the industry. The reason why another Nightmare on Elm Street movie has not been made is not because of financing, but because there are legal battles over the rights. Fans are demanding that another one be made, and will once again fill the theaters, but because of the corporate interests, it must be settled in the courtroom.

Robert Englund, the man behind Freddy Krueger, and one of our fine American actors said that it has become infinitely more arduous now to navigate through the proper channels to find the right person to negotiate.

Like any medium, we love the true, organic, authentic nature of horror. In its purest form, it allows us to enter into a world of imagination, mystery, intrigue, and of course blood, gore, and all that other stuff, but to escape from the real world of horror for a couple of hours and engage our nervous system in exciting and fulfilling ways.

It is about the intention of it – there is an incredible amount of thought and planning of each film – the actual making of it, which requires a high degree of creativity, expertise, innovation, and ingenuity, and the marketing and distribution of it, to the fans who love and consume it.

We love to be scared and entertained, but we also love the concepts and theories behind horror movies. I cannot tell you how many conversations involved philosophy, mythology, psychology, and other disciplines.

All I had to do was to interject ethics, and dialogues would spin off about the plot of certain films, what their directors were intending, where the film ideas came from, what was the sociopolitical dynamics of the time the films were made, and what is currently happening in the world that the films were reflecting.

Needless to say, I had plenty of fun, lively, and informative talks with folks I found to be of my ilk.

There are three things I am passionate about: horror movies, rock and roll, and social justice and human rights – not necessarily in that order of course. I have indulged in plenty of the latter two over the decades with various groups big, small, and in between, but now I have introduced myself to a whole community of horror lovers, and I plan on making this one a new tradition.