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Interview Overview

In this episode of The Writer’s Chair, Daniel Willcocks is joined by Michael David Wilson, founder of the UK horror platform and publisher This Is Horror, for a candid catch-up that quickly turns into a full-throttle conversation about creativity, catharsis, and what it means to “make it” as a writer.

Michael shares what’s changed since their last recorded chat, including a major life milestone and the release of his latest book, Daddy’s Boy — a dark comedy packed with chaos, crime, horror DNA, and razor-edged humour. From the book’s origin story (and why it became the project he had to write) to the role fiction plays in processing pain, the two dig into how real life gets “couched in metaphor” on the page, and why authenticity often matters more than chasing trends.

They also explore the push and pull between art and commerce, the myth of sales as a measure of value, and the long game of finding the readers who will truly click with your work. Plus, Michael teases what could be coming next, and the episode closes with a quickfire round that goes exactly as you’d expect: unexpectedly deep, wildly funny, and only partly about sausages.

Interview Transcript

Daniel Willcocks:

Welcome back, wordsmiths and story seekers. I’m your host, Daniel Willcocks, broadcasting from the shadowy halls of Devil’s Rock HQ, and tonight I’m thrilled to share the chair with the authorial powerhouse that is Michael David Wilson.

Michael David Wilson is the founder of the UK horror website, podcast and publisher This Is Horror. He’s the author of The Girl in the Video, They’re Watching (with Bob Pastorella), House of Bad Memories and Daddy’s Boy. His work has appeared in publications including The NoSleep Podcast, Dim Shores, Dark Moon Digest and Hawk & Cleaver’s The Other Stories. Michael currently lives in Gifu, Japan.

Michael, welcome back to the show.

Michael David Wilson:

Thank you very much for having me. It’s great to be here — and great to be back.

What’s Changed Since We Last Spoke?

Daniel:

We’ve spoken across a few different shows and formats now, so I won’t retread your horror origin story — we’ve covered that ground, and I’ll link to those conversations in the show notes.

The last time we spoke was Volume 99 of The Other Stories podcast on 30 September 2024 — for anyone listening to this in 2056.

So what’s been happening in Michael David Wilson’s world since then?

Michael:

Well, a few days after that interview, I got married — so that feels fairly significant.

The wedding was in Kobe, Japan, and the photos are spectacular. Kobe Tower in the background. Very nice occasion indeed.

Professionally, though, the big thing is the new book. Daddy’s Boy came out last month.

We spoke previously about House of Bad Memories, which is a dark thriller with comedic elements. Daddy’s Boy is almost the inverse of that — a dark comedy with thriller, crime and horror elements.

I’ve gone further into comedy than I ever have before, and I think this is probably the limit of comedy people will see from me. But it was hugely enjoyable to write. I laughed at my own jokes — which might sound pretentious, or like something Garth Marenghi would say — but it genuinely was cathartic.

I wrote the first draft over a year ago, during a very dark time in my life — the divorce, the custody battle. I was not in a good place. And yet writing something so absurd and joyful was incredibly freeing.

As you probably noticed — especially because you know me — a lot of it comes from my personal life, but it’s couched in metaphor. Chuck Palahniuk talks about how fiction lets us say things we can’t say directly, and that you can get closer to the truth through fiction than nonfiction. That’s exactly what happened here.

Introducing Daddy’s Boy

Daniel:

Before we go deeper, I want to read a short review I wrote for Daddy’s Boy — and then I’ll ask you to pitch it properly.

“I don’t… what? This book is chaos in the best goddamn way.

Laced with Michael’s signature wit, intelligent prose and a fresh dollop of ‘what the fuck’, Daddy’s Boy is a whirlwind, action-packed adventure filled with wonder, gore, balls-to-the-wall insanity — and yes, some Naked Attraction thrown in too.

Beneath the maelstrom, it touches on one of the most fundamental human bonds: father and son.

It’s hard to balance high-octane entertainment with emotional sentiment — Michael finds the line and nails it.”

And I meant every word.

So — your turn. What is Daddy’s Boy?

Michael:

Alright — here’s the back-cover blurb, delivered with appropriate levels of fluid imagery.

From the author of The Girl in the Video and House of Bad Memories comes a dark comedy of errors and toilet humour.

Wentworth is at his wits’ end. He has no money. His cat’s been kidnapped. And every time he tries to kill himself, he fails. Worst of all — he lives in Kidderminster.

But sometimes you’re given a lifeline. For some it’s a lottery win. For others, a promotion.

For Wentworth, it’s an out-of-shape fifty-something named Norman — wearing an “I Was on Naked Attraction” t-shirt and scuffed Reeboks.

Wentworth thinks he’s in luck. He isn’t.

A series of progressively worse decisions soon finds him on the run from criminal reprobates. The pair flee to Norman’s holiday home — but there’s a local serial killer on the loose, something deeply wrong next door, and Norman is becoming uncomfortably clingy.

Can Wentworth evade the mob, shake off Norman’s advances, and uncover the truth before he becomes the next victim?

Daddy’s Boy is Shameless meets The Gentlemen*, with the incompetence of* The Hangover*.*

Why This Book Exists

Daniel:

At a basic level — where did this book come from?

Michael:

There are a few threads.

Thematically, it’s about parenthood, estrangement, the lengths we’ll go to reconnect — and the limits of what we tolerate from other people. Those ideas also exist in House of Bad Memories.

But the spark was very simple: a man who has failed at everything — including suicide — standing in a bank queue when a bloke in a Naked Attraction t-shirt offers him a million pounds for an “easy job”.

Most people would walk away. Wentworth has nothing left to lose.

And that leads him into a Brexit-era, Joe R. Lansdale-style heist story run by deeply incompetent criminals.

At the same time, I was writing another book — a psychosexual thriller — which was incredibly angry. Less metaphor, more raw rage. A friend, John Crinnon, asked which book he wanted to read.

I had 50,000 words of the angry book… and one page of Daddy’s Boy.

He said, “That’s the one.”

So I followed the joy.

Writing as Catharsis

Daniel:

Your work has a clear emotional through-line — a sense of lived experience finding its way into fiction.

How conscious is that for you?

Michael:

Not very — at least not at the time of writing.

Some people write as therapy. I don’t. I write because I enjoy it. It’s only later that I realise what I was processing.

I’ll reread a line in an old story and suddenly remember exactly how I felt when I wrote it. Sometimes it heals something retroactively.

I don’t sit down thinking, “Today I’ll work through this trauma.” I write — and then later I understand what the writing was doing for me.

Authenticity vs Commercialism

Daniel:

There’s a real tension in this book — between authenticity and commercial viability. You don’t strip ideas out. You compress them.

How do you manage that?

Michael:

I crave originality. If someone else could have written it, I’m not interested.

Stephen Graham Jones once talked about starting a story by listing everything he doesn’t want to include — and then writing what remains. That resonates with me.

I plan obsessively. Nothing is random. Every bizarre turn is deliberate and foreshadowed.

Yes — it’s a book full of sausages, dick jokes and absurdity — but it’s meticulously constructed.

On Success, Failure and the Long Game

Daniel:

You once said House of Bad Memories was the best book you’ve written — even if it wasn’t the most popular.

Where does Daddy’s Boy sit?

Michael:

Each book does something different.

The Girl in the Video is the most commercial.

They’re Watching is the most horror.

House of Bad Memories is the best written.

Daddy’s Boy is the most fun I’ve ever had writing.

On a sentence-by-sentence level, Daddy’s Boy might actually be better written than House of Bad Memories. It’s immediate. There’s no lull. It’s relentless.

They’re companion pieces. One dials up the darkness. The other dials up the humour.

What’s Next?

Michael:

There’s a novella called What Would Wesley Do? — currently with a publisher and an agent.

It’s the closest I’ve come to merging commercial appeal with authenticity. If it works, great. If not, I’ll still be proud of it.

There’s also a collaboration with John Crinnon, a psychosexual thriller, a short story collection… too many ideas.

Which is why, for now, it’s all “one for me”. No studio projects.

Quickfire Round

Daniel:

Morning writer or night owl?

Michael:

Morning writer.

Daniel:

If Daddy’s Boy were a drink?

Michael:

Vodka, Dr Pepper, bourbon… and cocktail sausages. Disgusting. Addictive.

Daniel:

Do you write with music?

Michael:

Sometimes — mostly to block noise.

Daniel:

Which author would you haunt as a ghost?

Michael:

Stephen King. Maximum exposure.

Daniel:

Which author would haunt you?

Michael:

Shakespeare. Vonnegut. Poe. All of them.

Daniel:

One thing you refuse to eat?

Michael:

Gluten. Literally life-changing to remove it.

Daniel:

One book you wish you’d written?

Michael:

It by Stephen King.

Daniel:

Do you believe in fate?

Michael:

I believe in hard work, kindness and discipline. Act as if karma is real.

Daniel:

One book you’d recommend above all others?

Michael:

Kill Your Friends by John Niven.

Where to Find Michael

Michael:

michaeldavidwilson.co.uk

BlueSky: @thisishorror

And if you want the full picture — This Is Horror podcast and Patreon.

Daniel:

Michael, thank you so much for joining me. And thank you to our listeners.

If you’re craving deeper conversation, writing advice, or community, come join the Devil’s Rock Discord. It’s free, open to all, and always crackling with inspiration.

Until next time — write bravely and dream dark.