In this guest post, author of our upcoming gay vampire romance Keep It In The Dark, Justin Arnold, explores the origins of the novel and how his experience with book banning shaped the direction of the novel!
Keep It In The Dark is out December 3rd and available for preorder now!
From Justin:
Dear Reader,
The book you are about to experience is not the one I intended to write.
That’s how a letter from me to ARC readers of Keep It In The Dark opened. What followed was a condensed version of the events that reshaped the book while I was writing the earliest drafts. Had none of the previous year happened, everyone would be getting a different book on December 3rd.
Long before the book had a plot or characters, all it had was a sort-of-theme. After the release of my last book, Wicked Little Things, I was unsure exactly what I wanted to work on next. But I knew I wanted it to focus on my favorite supernatural creature: vampires.
It wasn’t long before a flicker of an old idea reignited: a golden boy having to share his dorm room with his mortal enemy, a vampire. It would be a fun, sappy rom-com, and nothing more. Though admittedly, the themes of the finished book were always in the outline, it was never meant to go deeper than surface level.
That changed in the summer of 2023, when I learned that a religious group had come to my hometown with the intent to remove LGBTQ+ books from my local library, where multiple copies of Wicked Little Things had just been shelved.
Weeks before, I had given a talk to the teen writing club. This was made an issue. Me, in existence, was an issue. My neighborhood had been peaceful and lovely. Now, a block from my porch, there was a sign the size of a small house that referred to us with a slur. Storefronts with the pride flag were doused with holy water. I was spat at and followed to my car. Even still, people in my community didn’t seem to realize that these protestors meant me and people like me. As though LGBTQ+ people are some mystical far away creature mentioned in the media and not your literal neighbors.
If that isn’t an analogue for being a vampire in the 2020’s, I really don’t know what is.
Before this began, Casper’s biggest concern was that he liked his roommate. Now he was worried about being eternally vulnerable, in a world where he felt like he was the only ‘him’. He’d constantly be around people who wouldn’t understand or accept him, always afraid someone would find out the truth and harm him.
I worked during the day as though nothing was going on, and met with fellow ban-fighters in the evenings. I testified with others at the library board meetings. I helped circulate petitions. My city might not have known me beyond ‘that Arnold boy’ before, but they got an idea when I began signing my letters to the editor, ‘Your Gay Author Neighbor’. After all that, I ended the day by writing more of this book.
This didn’t remain solely in my personal life. At the time, I was the only openly LGBTQ+ employee at a right-leaning organization. One that had several notable state politicians involved, ones that I’d been encouraged to re-closet around. My first mistake was mentioning to a coworker what was going on at home. Pretty quickly, I was reminded about a strict rule against speaking about politics publicly, and that was really their only concern for me. Well, I didn’t have much of a choice. My sexuality is not a political discussion, it’s my life. It also affects my livelihood. It didn’t take much to repeatedly break that rule. Several coworkers who weren’t following me on social media were now viewing every story and peeking at my TikTok profile daily. I’ll never see pages of handwritten notes for this book again because someone ripped them out of my notebook while I was in the restroom. God knows why I didn’t walk out right then. But I never stopped defending myself.
Of course, this comes with a cost. While I was being rebellious and unafraid on the outside, on the inside, I was changing. I’d learned to love books in that library as a small child. I had biked the streets of that city my whole life. I never ever thought that someday I would have to stand and prove that I exist, or that me having to would be a problem for people who could replace me within the hour. You don’t come back from that without permanent scars.
Keep It In the Dark went from a rom-com with a couple of tough moments into a full-blown allegory for being LGBTQ+ in this country at this time. And, in my vampire lore, they were unable to cry. Because I hadn’t and was getting concerned that I never would. In fact, I stopped feeling much of anything at all.
My rescue, though I didn’t realize it at the time, came when statewide media, who had begun noticing the ban attempt, got hold of my contact information and home address. One TV news station in particular pieced together where I worked and wanted to confirm it (which would have been quite a mess for the office, and me, if they disseminated). The jig was up, and I was presented with a dozen worst case scenarios that made it all seem bigger for them than it was. I knew then I had a choice to make— keep playing along and hiding my writing career, or quit my job. It was the easiest and best decision I ever made. I only have one regret…that I didn’t answer the calls and blow that whistle.
But in many ways, this book is my whistle. It’s a story that I lived. From being scapegoated, to re-closeting for others, to societies coming for me, to keeping relationships secret, all the way down to hidden libraries. Casper’s story is my own. Even his origin. I know now that I didn’t live any of it alone. A lot of us did, and still do. I’d wager to say most of us have faced these things due to our ‘vampirism’, whatever that may be for a person.
The year since has been one of healing, some days easier than others. I’m getting back to myself. I’m learning who I am after all of that, and honestly loving what I see. Through it, and thanks to the healing benefits of writing Keep It In The Dark, I’ve been able to see what I can survive and how to turn that into something that I find beautiful.
I hope readers enjoy the book, and have all of the fun hanging out with Casper and Rowan, and I hope they laugh and swoon. I hope they feel seen no matter who they are. But I also hope they remember that Keep It In The Dark is only the title. Not a rule. And if anyone in their life tries to make it one— I hope they break it. I hope they break it every single day.
Hiss-Hiss,
Justin
Note: On November 15th 2023, on the one-year anniversary of Wicked Little Things’ publication, the Paris-Bourbon County Library was the first in the state of Kentucky to declare itself a sanctuary library, committed to freedom of expression for members of its community. All LGBTQ+ books that were challenged remain on its shelves.
Justin Arnold is the author of Wicked Little Things and The Prince and the Puppet Thief. He's a storyteller, occasional comedian, and junk food connoisseur. He lives in the bluegrass region of Kentucky, where gnarled woods and abundant ghost stories fuel his inspiration.
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