🎧 Or listen to the episode HERE
Interview Overview
In the inaugural interview episode of The Writer’s Chair, Daniel Willcocks sits down with Nick Cutter (Craig Davidson) to talk craft, influence and the beautifully messy heart of horror.
Craig unpacks his journey from literary fiction to genre heavyweight, the lasting imprint of Stephen King, and why his latest novel, The Queen, is one of his most personal books yet, blending coming-of-age ache with visceral, bug-crawling dread.
Along the way, the pair dig into how horror has evolved from slashers to deeper emotional terrain, why sensory writing matters, the role of disgust on the page, and Craig’s standout modern recommendations for what to read next.
Interview Transcription
Welcome back, wordsmiths and story seekers. I’m your host, Daniel Willcocks, broadcasting from the shadowy halls of Devil’s Rock HQ.
Today, I’m thrilled to bring you the inaugural interview episode of The Writer’s Chair. This conversation was recorded a few months ago for Episode 100 of The Other Stories (go and check out the team at theotherstories.net), and I’m proud to bring it to this podcast feed too.
When I thought about the kind of talent I wanted to kick off this show with, I could think of no one finer than Nick Cutter — one of, if not my favourite author of all time. I’ve devoured almost everything he’s written (and I’ve still got a couple more to get to).
In this interview, we cover Craig’s journey from literary fiction to horror heavyweight, the influence of Stephen King on his work, why The Queen is one of his most personal novels yet (and a must if you like bug and body horror), and the way horror has evolved — from slashers to psychological depth, sensory terror, gross-out moments and writing from lived emotion.
Let’s get into it.
Introductions
Daniel Willcocks:
Nick Cutter is the pseudonym of Canadian author Craig Davidson. His breakout horror thriller, The Troop, won the inaugural James Herbert Award, has been championed by Stephen King and has become one of TikTok’s favourite horror novels.
As well as The Deep, The Acolyte, Little Heaven and The Handyman Method (co-written with Andrew F. Sullivan), Craig has once again donned the Nick Cutter mask to bring us his latest novel, The Queen — a tale of teenagers, terror and crawly terrestrials.
Craig, welcome to the show.
Craig Davidson:
Daniel, thank you very much for having me again.
Have you met Stephen King yet?
Daniel:
No worries. We were saying just before we hit record — we’ve spoken before. Back in May 2018, and we briefly encountered each other again in Pittsburgh last year for StokerCon, which was a lovely surprise.
I went back and listened to our old interview to see if there were any threads I could pick up again, and the burning question I have is: have you met Stephen King yet?
Craig:
I wish.
I’ve shared airspace with him — I was in the same room with him years ago. This probably even predated our 2018 interview. With the pandemic in between, it gives you a spacey sense of time.
He was at an event in Toronto with his son Owen for Sleeping Beauties. It was at a venue called Koerner Hall — about 1,500 seats — and it was packed. I was probably 20th row. So I was there. I bathed in his… Stephen King-ishness. That’s about the closest I’ve ever been, outside of taking up stalking late in life and imposing myself on him.
But he’s an enormous influence. Anyone who’s read the Nick Cutter books, and even to a degree the Craig Davidson books, will see that.
I don’t think I even recognised it early on. My early books under my own name were influenced by short story writers like Tom Jones, maybe Chuck Palahniuk, and a lot of older boxing writers I admired. Stephen King was there — I’d read him more than anyone — but my aesthetic at that point was a kind of pseudo tough-guy thing. Those books were concerned with maleness and masculinity, what it means to be a man in this workaday world.
As soon as I started writing horror, I realised how meaningful his work was to me. I’ve always described it like imprinting — the way a gosling imprints on a mother or father. It’s amazing how commanding his influence has been even when I consciously try to write away from it.
You write away from it and you sort of loop around 180 degrees and hit it anyway.
The gateway author
Daniel:
In a weird way, King is almost like the barometer for most horror authors these days. It’s really hard to meet someone and ask, “What was your first exposure to horror?” and not hear: Stephen King.
Your generation too, would you say? We’re about 15 years apart.
For me, it was Cujo. That was the first horror book I read and I remember being completely gripped.
It feels like a two-part barometer test: what got you into horror — Stephen King — and then who came next?
Craig:
Absolutely. People settle aesthetically on Barker, Jackson, Straub, whoever — but King is the gateway.
I’ve also always thought Lovecraft is a big one. Maybe not the first writer people come to, but once they do, that universe is very beguiling. A lot of modern writers — myself included — pull from his world.
He was long dead before he could see his influence. Stephen King is one of those writers who can see his influence while there’s still breath in his lungs. He must get books sent to him for blurbs and see it. Or watch something like Stranger Things and see how massive his influence is within his lifetime.
Craig’s writing journey: from literary fiction to horror
Daniel:
For people who might not know you or the kind of work you write, can you give an overview of your writing journey to this point?
Craig:
Well, it’s 2024, and The Troop came out in 2014, so I guess this makes me a decade in as a horror writer.
I shouldn’t say sideline — it’s one of those careers where the pseudonym eclipses my actual name, which I have no concerns about at all. I’m grateful to have a career in any way possible.
I’ve written the books you mentioned under the name Nick Cutter, and I have a couple more under contract that’ll come out over the next couple of years, all being well. That makes me happy.
I started out writing under my own name — books of a different nature. Horror has always been my first love, but I was going through the Canadian university system to get an education and give myself the opportunity to write.
At that point in time — 20 years ago now or more — horror wasn’t something you could make an academic focus. If you wanted to write a creative thesis, a horror novel would have needed to be one of those “clever” ones that swipes at horror from an ironic or detached distance.
I don’t write that way. So I wrote a literary collection of short stories and it got published. That set me on about the first ten years of my career writing under my own name, and then I had this wonderful opportunity — the back half of my career — writing horror.
That’s why we’re sitting here chatting.
Staying in the industry
Daniel:
That’s quite a span of time in the industry. It must be rewarding to still have people coming back to you.
Craig:
It’s been fits and starts. My first book came out when I was 29, which is fairly young. There are people who do it earlier, but I remember getting that contract and thinking, “Well, I guess I’m a writer now.” And the world had other designs.
In between there were other jobs — I was a bus driver, for example, and I wrote a memoir about my time driving a school bus.
But I’d say of those 20 years, about 17 have been as a full-time writer. I’m deeply grateful for that, and grateful to have a partner where together we’ve been able to make ends meet while following separate passions.
First King book?
Daniel:
Do you remember what your first Stephen King book was?
Craig:
It might’ve been one of the short story collections — maybe Skeleton Crew.
But honestly, my first exposure to horror was probably a book of stories in my elementary school. There was a story called “The Red Ribbon” — a girl wears a red ribbon around her neck and warns everyone not to touch it. A suitor pulls it and her head falls off.
Even from there I was taken by the trappings of horror. I liked the idea of being scared — testing what I could endure. At first horror is like that: how much can you tolerate? How much can you scare yourself?
Later, you see the deeper things horror can do — commenting on society and culture, exploring the human condition.
If we’re talking King specifically, it might’ve been “The Boogeyman”. I read it in the clean light of day in a public library, put it down, looked around at the bustling world and thought, “That wasn’t so bad.”
But the right environment changes everything. Years ago I was lent Dead Space 2. I sat down at midnight, two feet from the TV, volume loud, and I didn’t get more than fifteen minutes in. It got me.
Horror as therapy and the genre’s evolution
Daniel:
When I speak to horror authors, it often feels like the journey is: “I want something gruesome,” and then the relationship matures into themes — and in a weird way it becomes therapy. I like psychological horror because it lets me understand how bad things work and process them safely on the page.
It feels like the 60s, 70s and 80s were more slasher, gore, monstrous horror, and today we’ve evolved into something more mature — less about the boo and more about the ick.
Craig:
I agree. And maybe in some ways I’m cut out of time, because my work is probably more indebted to the 80s — and writers like James Herbert.
Some people call the modern wave “elevated horror”, which is a term I don’t fully understand — I don’t know where the guardrails are — but horror is more inclusive now. There are more voices. That diversity creates more stories that wouldn’t necessarily have been published in earlier decades.
That’s not to say writers back then weren’t doing it — Barker and Anne Rice were exploring themes that don’t feel out of time today — but there’s more space for it now. Needful space. More room, more voices, more possibilities.
The Queen: what it’s really about
Daniel:
You’ve got a new book, The Queen. Can you give a spoiler-free overview of what it’s about?
Craig:
Without giving anything away… I always have a hard time outlining a book. But what it really came down to for me — the emotional through-line that got me through it — is the notion of two close friends reaching that point where they hit a parting of the ways.
One of the most common places for that is the summer between the last year of high school and the beginning of university or adult life — the first step into adulthood.
In my case, I moved away from my hometown. There was excitement because things felt stale, my parents and I were at each other’s throats, and I wanted to explore. But I wasn’t gone more than a month before I was miserable and wanted to come home.
You want the sureties — your hometown, your friends, the life you took for granted.
Over time, phone calls get less. You come home less. You discover new friends and new ways of looking at the world. And then you run into someone five years later on a street in your hometown and feel shocked and saddened by the estrangement that’s happened — between people who truly believed they’d always be in each other’s lives.
Outside of the horror and everything else, that emotional anchor pulled me through. Like The Troop, I tried to go back into my own past and pull forth emotions and moments that feel universal.
Writing teenagers today
Daniel:
You write teenagers really well. With The Queen, you’re dealing with high school, but high school today is different — social media, modern pressures, all of it. How did you tap into what it’s like to be a teenager now?
Craig:
It’s hard. Every book has landmines — some you know about before you start, some surprise you midstream.
Two big things for me: first, I was writing outside my gender. I tried to navigate back into my safe zone by making them boys, but it didn’t cohere. The story wouldn’t work.
Second, I went through those years in the mid-90s, so there are big differences. But I tried to focus on what feels universally teenage. Things change across generations, but some experiences remain: first love, that strange intensity, the fear of loss, losing someone you felt you’d always have.
I accepted that there would be things I couldn’t keep pace with, or wouldn’t get exactly right — and honestly, even enough time has passed that I might not get my own era perfectly right.
So I focused on the bigger emotional truths. Things that feel almost genderless — part of a universal current of human experience. If those things are universal, then they change very little, even across generations.
The Nick Cutter “gross-out” stamp and writing with the senses
Daniel:
For fans of the Nick Cutter brand: it’s punchy, visceral and gross — in the best way.
There’s always a scene that sticks with me. In The Handyman Method, it’s the drain. With The Queen, I won’t spoil it, but there’s a moment.
How do you do it?
Craig:
I don’t think it’s purposeful, honestly. It’s my aesthetic — the things I like to write. Those moments occur naturally as part of the narrative.
Often they evolve in edits. The first draft might be skeletal. In subsequent drafts I dwell, go deeper, put flesh on the skeleton and turn the scene into something more resonant.
I used to have “the five senses” written on a monitor in Sharpie. If I had a scene, I’d ask: do we have something sensory pinging each of those senses, if possible?
Writing tends to default to the visual, but prose lets you invoke touch, smell, hearing, even taste. I like to nurse scenes through edits, and they can become more revolting than they were at first pass.
Quickfire: the most disgusting five senses
Daniel:
I want to list the five senses and you tell me the most disgusting thing for you in each. Starting with sight.
Craig:
You kick over a log in the park and it’s full of earwigs, bark beetles, wet damp creatures twisting underneath it.
Daniel:
Sound?
Craig:
A big fat gym rope — covered in grease — and a hand pulling along it. That crackly, crispy sound. Revolting.
Daniel:
Smell?
Craig:
I used to work at MarineLand as a “dumpster boy”. Once a buddy threw a giant sack of garbage at me — it had been out in the sun for a long time and had larval life inside it. It broke open over me, maggots sheeted out, and what the maggots had been eating… That smell was the most revolting thing I’ve ever experienced. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.
Even he realised immediately he’d gone too far.
Daniel:
Taste?
Craig:
Some of that definitely went in my mouth, so let’s group taste with that smell.
Daniel:
Touch?
Craig:
When I was a kid, you’d go into a “witch’s lab” at Halloween and reach into a bowl of “eyeballs” — peeled grapes. It was disgusting because I believed it. I thought I’d put my hand into a bowl of eyeballs.
Daniel:
That reminds me of a Ray Bradbury story — a Halloween experience where they pass fruit and pumpkins along… but it turns out it’s cut-up people. Beautifully gross.
Craig:
Bradbury’s incredible. People read The October Country (as they should), but Something Wicked This Way Comes is a great seasonal read too.
Craig’s top recent horror recommendations
Daniel:
Over the last few years we’ve had a lot of new horror. What are your top recommendations?
Craig:
One I always recommend: Waubgeshig Rice, an Indigenous author. He wrote Moon of the Crusted Snow — apocalyptic, but done in such an intelligent and thoughtful way.
Another Indigenous Canadian author: Cherie Dimaline, who wrote The Marrow Thieves. I’ll count those as one.
I also just read Keith Rosson, Devil by Name. It’s the second in a two-part — I’ve read both — and the first title is escaping me, but Rosson is excellent.
And I loved Maeve Fly by C.J. Leede. Twisted, gory, really went there — but the characters are fantastic, and she’s doing something novel and cruel with familiar tropes.
Honestly, I could go on forever — I’m just scanning my shelves in my head.
This feels like one of the strongest times for horror since the boom of the 80s. Horror is the monster you can’t kill — it’s always around and always minting interesting writers.
A thriving era for horror
Daniel:
I can’t really compare to the 80s because I wasn’t around, but I think the expansion of the internet has done a lot — it’s brought people out of the woodwork, given praise to voices that might not have had a platform.
And indie publishing has helped too — it swells the ground so more people get the chance to speak their horror. Even this year, the amount of books I’ve been gifted, found and bought… it’s hard to keep up.
Craig:
It’s almost head-cracking, the amount there is. Trying to keep up is difficult. You’d almost have to read horror exclusively, and I don’t — I read omnivorously too. But if you did decide to read only horror, you’d be pleased.
Closing and where to find Craig
Daniel:
I could chat to you forever. I also forgot to mention at the top — congratulations, you’re appearing on Volume 100 of The Other Stories. We’ve been running since 2016. You’re our celebratory guest.
Craig:
Congratulations, Daniel. I’m not surprised. You’re thorough and thoughtful. May you go to 200 or 300 — or whatever you decide — before you hang up your spurs.
Daniel:
666.
Craig:
Very good.
Daniel:
Final question: where can people find out about what you’re working on, and where can they get their hands on The Queen?
Craig:
I do have a website: craigdavidson.net. I’m not particularly online, but it’s there.
My brother also put together a really cool website specifically for The Queen — kind of a fan-service site. You can access it through my main site.
The book is out with Gallery in North America, and it’s out in the UK too (simultaneous release). End of the month — October 29.
Daniel:
Wonderful. Thank you so much, Craig, for joining me. I really appreciate your time.
Craig:
My pleasure. Anytime, Daniel.
Daniel:
And everyone — buy The Queen… or else.
Wrap-up
That’s a wrap on the inaugural interview episode of The Writer’s Chair.
A huge thank you to Nick — slash Craig — for joining me this week, and an even bigger thank you to you, our listeners, for tuning in.
Before you dash off: if you’re craving deeper conversation, writing advice, or just fancy hanging out with fellow readers and storytellers, come join the Devil’s Rock community on Discord.
I’m on a mission to build the largest online space for fans of horror and dark fiction — a home where writers and readers connect, create and thrive together. It’s free, open to all and always crackling with inspiration.
If you’re ready to pull up a virtual chair, head to devilsrockbooks.com/podcast for the invite link.
Until next time, my friends: write bravely and dream dark.
