A haunted cabin in the woods, an abandoned scientific research station in the arctic, an empty road with no civilization for miles … the best horror stories start with the right setting. David “D. B.” Andry and his co-writer Tim Daniel have built a reputation for comics that know exactly where they live, including Denizen, Morning Star and Red Vector.
Their latest, Estuary: A Ghost Story, arrives in stores today from Oni Press, and it may be their most atmospheric work yet: a four-issue supernatural thriller set along the California coast, where a 400-year-old Spanish mission sits atop a tidal estuary full of buried secrets, housing a reclusive nun who has spent decades making sure they stay that way.
I caught up with Andry to talk about “West Coast Horror,” the Catholic Church’s complicated California legacy, underwater ghosts and what it means to write horror with a collaborator who has more ideas in a day than most people have in a lifetime.
I referred to this project as “West Coast Horror” when it was announced, which you guys reacted to on social media, so I thought maybe we could start there. If we think about that as its own sub-genre, what are the traits or qualities that would define “West Coast Horror,” and are there examples of it that you guys find inspiring? (“Lost Boys” comes to mind for me personally, and not just because I have the movie poster hanging in my office above me!)
I am so glad you called it “West Coast Horror” because that was a true lightbulb moment for me. Tim Daniel, my co-writer, and I always firmly ground our books in a place. It really helps with storytelling, vibes and feel for the story. In Denizen, we placed it in Joshua Tree; in Morning Star, the Kootenai National forest in Montana where Tim lives; in Red Vector, the Sonoran Desert. Each location helped define the story and mood. I think Lost Boys would be a perfect example of “West Coast Horror.” Long, warm nights. Hip teenagers who don’t seem to have parents. The almost laid-back version of vampire. With Estuary, setting it along the California coast gave us access to a deep water bay, a long history that doesn’t really exist in other parts of California with all the atrocities and persecution that goes along with this history. A lot of horror seems to be rooted in a place, an old haunted house, a cabin in the woods, a lake at a summer camp. And some of Tim and my favorite movies and shows, Jaws, Goonies and Midnight Mass definitely use location as a character and utilize a place’s specific feel.
To follow that, how does the west coast setting play into Estuary? The 400-year-old Spanish mission is such a specific, loaded setting, what with colonial history, Catholic guilt, indigenous land and everything that entails. How much of that historical weight and setting is actually part of the story versus backdrop?
So much! The setting definitely was part of the story’s development. Being raised in Northern California as well as Catholic and going to Catholic school all the way until high school, I was very familiar with the church’s version of the Missions and how they brought “education” and “religion” to the native population. Part of deprogramming myself as an adult and finding the truth behind the propaganda was learning about the facts behind the stories. Our main character, Maris, has a similar upbringing. She’s at an inflection point. She’s struggling with faith and religion and that sets her up to find truths. Truths about herself and truths about faith, spirituality and religion.
The book is subtitled “A Ghost Story” right there in the title. What kind of ghosts are we dealing with?
Without spoiling too much, the ghosts in Estuary are like people, they have motivations and wants and needs of their own. They are…connected to places in a way that living persons may not be. I’ve said too much…
Marine archaeology is a pretty unusual profession for a horror protagonist. What does Maris’s specific expertise give you narratively that a more conventional lead wouldn’t?
First and foremost, to get to have underwater ghosts! Her job also reflects her personality and journey. She looks to the past to help define the present and the future. She’s looking for something, she puts together clues to solve mysteries. Archaeology is like detective work, putting a big picture together from the broken pieces of the past.
You and Tim Daniel have worked together before on projects like Crush Depth and Morning Star. At this point, how do you two actually divide the writing — is there a clean split, or is it more fluid than that?
It starts pretty fluid as we just talk ideas through. They can start with me, but honestly they usually start with Tim. He has more ideas in a day than I’ll probably have in my lifetime! We talk it out for a while, see if we both connect to it. We’ll develop an overall story, characters, themes, all chatting on the phone or by text. Once we have a pretty solid idea of the series, then we break it up a little cleaner. If an outline is needed, Tim will usually produce that and a key piece of art (the Estuary key art has been turned into the first issue’s cover C). Then with, or without, an outline I’ll start a rough draft. Just starting at the beginning of issue one and writing on from there. In that rough draft, I’ll usually do most of the dialogue because that’s my favorite part. Once I have enough for an issue, or the whole series, I’ll pass that to Tim and he’ll do his pass. It’ll go back and forth until we’re happy with it and then one of us, usually me, will start scripting. Then that goes back and forth until it’s as polished as we can make it for the artist.
Speaking of the artist, Maan House’s work has been described as “gorgeously atmospheric.” How much of the horror in this book lives in the writing versus what he brings visually?
When writing horror in comics, you try to build dread and tension to the end of the issue and then you have to start all over for the next issue, building tension once again because of the time monthly readers take between issues. You’re not going to hold onto that tension for a month between reads. But with Maan, he can build tension on every single page. So the creepy moments throughout the book, when there isn’t really anything scary in the script, that’s ALL Maan. He is creating that atmosphere, the dread and the horror the reader will feel on nearly every page.
The reclusive nun who’s been guarding this secret for decades is a fascinating figure. How do you approach writing a character like that?
Well, we’re going to find out a lot more about Sister Darcy as the story goes on. So, as a writer, you develop this very precise and long history for the character. Then you just reveal tiny, little glimpses of the full picture of who she is. And what she wants. What I hope is that after reading the series, you’ll immediately want to go back and reread for any hints and clues that we put in there.
Is this a standalone story, or does the world of Arbués Point have more to give after issue #4?
There are always more stories to tell. It’ll be up to the readers to decide if we return.