Have you ever watched those horror films with really creepy, scary, kids and wondered what they would become when they grew up? Hi, I’m Peter Dunne.
I’m the writer of an (ahem) award-winning horror anthology podcast called Petrified which features stories of a darker Ireland. Expect episodes based around the panto, the 12 Pubs of Christmas, ghost estates, moving statues, and other particularly Irish doings. We’ve even had a cameo from the iconic newsreader Anne Doyle! You can’t get any more Irish than that.
Rosemary kindly invited me to pen a little piece to share with you because of her connection with Liam Geraghty, Petrified’s producer. In a little double plug, Liam is one of the exes featured in Rosemary’s number one (ahem) bestselling book, This Is Not About You. He comes out of it pretty okay, which is why they are still talking I suppose. I am NOT in the book, but will more than likely appear in a factual book in the future – possibly in the true crime genre. Back to being a creepy child though and how it made me into the horror writer barely standing before you.
Like in other Halloweens around the world, growing up, Irish kids still knocked on doors begging for sweets. ‘Help the Halloween Party’ was our particular plea, far more 1980s recession appropriate than the ‘Trick Or Treat’ it was replaced with. Upon arriving home, we’d try to grab money from apples with our teeth or scoop up money from basins of water with our teeth. Or look for a ring or money hidden in the Barn Brack. With our teeth. You may be noticing how big a deal money was back then, and why the 1980s wasn’t the best time for teeth.
Well, that was all well and good for other children, but when you’ve been watching the Nightmare on Elm Street films since primary school, apples and cash weren’t really filling the horror-shaped hole. So it was, at the age of 9 or so, I took over the family Halloween. Dads and uncles were unsurprisingly absent from 1980s parties for kids, but mothers, aunts and my Nana were corralled into taking part. And, oh, it was a production.
One particular party, the other tiny attendees were informed that while digging in her back garden, our Nana had found a suitcase. Inside were photos, clothes and toys belonging to a pair of orphans who had been murdered by their adopted family. Wanting to escape the law, the killers had disposed of the bodies and buried their belongings, and then our Nana had moved into the house. Unwittingly opening the suitcase, dear old Nana had released the vengeful spirits of the orphans, who, if they weren’t laid to rest by midnight, would take the souls of every child at the party. Did I mention my age when I came up with this?
The rest of the night was taken up with middle-aged women hiding in wardrobes ready to jump out or hiding under beds ready to grab ankles, Nana sitting in bed with a veil pretending to be a psychic, and, at various points, at least one child crying. Great night, but let’s just say that some of the friends of the family decided not to come the year after.
So, here we are, many years later, none of the other grown-up kids are as yet exhibiting signs of trauma, and I’m writing a Petrified live show! On October 25th, the Laughter Lounge in Dublin will host a special Halloween season live recording of our podcast. If you’d like to experience chills aplenty, do please grab some tickets and pop along.
I can’t promise my aunts aren’t going to be hiding in various cubby holes around the building ready to jump out, but you shouldn’t be too scared. I mean, you’re not kids.
Get your tickets to Petrified live here! And if you do go, please find Liam afterwards. and ask him to tell you about his teddy-bear jeans. He loves that story.