There is something about the horror genre that attracts outsiders, perhaps because many of the iconic characters are metaphors for the outsider, the misunderstood and the lonely. Take a look at the archetypes of the genre:

Dracula: doomed to live an eternal existence in solitude.
Frankenstein’s Monster: shunned and feared because of his monstrous appearance.
Candyman: a black artist murdered simply because he fell in love with the wrong (i.e. white) girl.

And if you want a slasher dispatched, you can’t call on the popular cheerleader. She’s too busy having sex with the football team. No, you need the pretty but bookish girl who stays home on Saturday nights to study. away in the vendors room.

The outsider and the freak have always been mainstays of the horror genre. While the general audience for horror waxes and wanes according to the tide of popular culture, there remains a devout, loyal and hardcore following regardless of the genre’s current rating on the “Hot Or Not” chart. These are the people who get more than just a visceral thrill or chill from watching a horror film. These are the people who empathize with the characters, be they man, monster or something else. These same people spend hours dissecting everything in a horror film, from the composition of the shots to the quality of the makeup to creativeness of the kills to, yes, even the acting.

I’ve always felt like a bit of an outsider myself, because of my affinity for gore (or maybe I have an affinity for gore because I’m an outsider – but that question is probably an article all in itself). It’s not like I was a charter member of the Trench Coat Mafia growing up or anything like that. I never really lacked friends, even if I had a few very close friends rather than many casual acquaintances. However, until recently I had never really met anyone with a similar level of interest in horror. Many of my friends were casually interested in the genre (Bram Stoker’s Dracula and Interview with the Vampire were big when I was in high school), but nobody really had the passion for it that I do. So when I had to get my mom to drive me halfway across town to rent a battered VHS copy of Fulci’s Zombie, my friends just shook their heads, smiling and whispering “weird” under their breath.

As a young horror fan growing up in what is essentially Canada’s “Bible Belt” not only did I have this feeling of being alone, my ability to lose myself in the dark worlds I so loved was severely limited because new horror was hard to come by. But with the advent of the Internet, I was able to make contact with people in other countries and eventually became a regular mail order video customer. Finally, I could see the movies I’d only read about in Fangoria (a publication that, like all things horror, was a rare find mid-90s Calgary). After my first taste of Argento (a double bill of Suspiria and Deep Red), there was no turning back.

The hunt for rare and obscure tapes became a sort of weekly ritual. One of the most rented tapes during these treks was Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors, which was a documentary about the 1985 horror convention of the same name. I’m sure I watched that tape so much that it became useless for anyone else. The moment I saw this I thought to myself, “I’ve gotta attend one of these!”

There were many attempts during my early teen years to save up for a trip to the States to attend the festival – and, of course, to convince my parents to allow me to do so. Alas, I was unsuccessful in both areas. The holy grail of the horror convention eluded me. And so I’d kind of given up on the hope of attending a horror convention. It wasn’t until recently that my interest was rekindled. For some reason, Rue Morgue magazine slipped under my radar until last year, when I became a loyal reader. When I saw the second annual Festival of Fear advertised, I never seriously considered attending, but when I casually mentioned the event to my girlfriend serious plans got underway. There’s a saying that behind every good man is a great woman; I’d change that to behind every horror fan is a great woman. Rather than allowing me to shrug it off, she helped make plans to attend. So, hand in hand with the missus, it was with great joy that I entered the Metro Toronto Convention Centre early on a recent Friday evening. As the scent of 1,000 costumed nerds assailed my nostrils, I thought to myself, “These are my people.”

Well, not the anime nerds. But everyone else.

The highlight of the weekend was unquestionably the appearance by headliner Clive Barker. Having long been a huge fan of Barker’s fiction, I was indescribably excited to meet him. Along with obscure horror films, monthly treks to the library were also an important part of my formative years, and no trip was complete without an attempt to check out some Clive Barker books. I was rarely successful, his books being enormously popular; the library had waiting lists months long to check out his Books of Blood. Eventually I found a book on tape of the Hellbound Heart (read by Barker himself, no less). I’ve remained a loyal Barker fan to this day, finding great inspiration in not only his writing, which is beautiful, but in his success in other mediums as well.

Barker treated his fans to an extraordinary amount of activities despite dealing with a nasty throat condition that left his voice a hoarse whisper. From daily autograph sessions to question and answer periods and capping it off with not one, but two painting demonstrations, Barker was there in full force.

I was not surprised when I read in the official program guide that autographs from Barker would be limited to 400 attendees per day. I was a bit disappointed that this fact hadn’t been advertised by the Canadian National Expo, and doubly dismayed when, after receiving my ticket, found out that autographs would be limited to one per person over the course of the entire weekend. Had I known this in advance, I probably wouldn’t have packed as many hardcover books in my duffel bag as I did. Luckily – and I suspect this is due to Mr. Barker's intervention – I found out while in line that the limit had been raised to two items per person. Using my girlfriend as an autograph mule, I managed to score four Clive Barker autographs (Thanks, baby. You’re the best).

In the entertaining and informative “Intimate and Interactive” session, Barker outlined his many upcoming projects, including a new film company, Midnight Picture Show, which will launch with an adaptation of The Midnight Meat Train, one of the more grisly stories in Barker’s famed “Books of Blood”. Usually short story to film adaptations are lacking, but considering that the last two stories adapted from the “Books of Blood” were Candyman and Lord of Illusion, coupled with the fact that Barker is maintaining a very hands-on approach as executive producer, makes this a film to look forward to. Barker promises that Meat Train will be packed with the gore that’s been lacking in many recent PG-13 rated horror films.

“I won’t go see a horror film that’s rated PG-13 on general principle,” he said, adding, “I will be disappointed if we don’t get an NC-17 on our first cut.”

Midnight Meat Train will be directed by Patrick Tatapoulous and is slated for a fall 2006 release.

Always appreciative of his fans, Barker joined in the protests against Elijah Wood and James Marsters for the high admission charged for their Q & A sessions.

“The signs are right,” quipped Barker, referring to fan-made signs calling Wood and Marsters “Expensive Whores”. When handlers for Elijah Wood tried to cut the session short he added, “I should charge him $150 just to get in here,” a sentiment that was greeted by thunderous applause.

There could have been no better way to highlight this lifelong horror fan’s first convention.

And Clive Barker was only the start.

Check in at next week for part two of A Fan’s Journey Into Horror, as Trevor Griffiths delves deeper into his first horror convention experience and tells readers what it’s like for a devout horror fan to hobnob with the men and women who create the horror he loves.