Folklore and Fear: Darren Simpson discusses his latest scary novel Thirst

Thirst draws a lot of inspiration from old folklore. Can you tell us how exploring these stories shaped the book?

I’ve always been vaguely curious about folklore, but it's only more recently, when I started writing horror, that I really began digging into it, reading, researching, going to exhibitions, and just trying to learn more. The folklore that inspired Thirst came from looking into all sorts of more obscure folk monsters from around the world. I came across things like temptress spider women from Japan and werehyenas from Africa, just really fascinating but quite scary stuff.

Then, looking closer to home, there was one particular story that really stuck with me: a river hag known as Jenny Greenteeth. I think the tale dates back to the 1800s, in Lancashire. The story goes that children were warned not to go too close to ponds, because Jenny, with her terrifyingly long arms, would reach out, grab their ankles, and drown them in the pond. There are loads of different versions of this same kind of tale all across the country, too. They were essentially cautionary stories, meant to scare kids into behaving, much like how Red Riding Hood warns about the danger of strangers. With Jenny Greenteeth, it was about the danger of getting too close to water. These stories always carry a real-world meaning that you can learn and grow from, and that really appealed to me, especially the connection between water and death.

As I researched more, I found that in pre-Christian pagan times, people viewed rivers as living beings. Rivers were so important, providing water to drink, grow crops, and nourish livestock, at a time when clean water wasn’t always easy to come by. People relied on rivers so much that they treated them almost like gods. They’d make offerings to the river of honey, wine, things like that, which we have archaeological evidence for, but then I found out that there had even been instances of children’s skulls being found around the edges of rivers and lakes, suggesting there were human sacrifices too.

That got me thinking. I loved the idea of river hags and pond hags, but I also wanted to write a slightly different take on folklore and take the story in a new direction. The idea of a living river is central to the story. It functions as the villain, and although it doesn’t speak, it acts almost as a character in its own right, imbued with a personality and motivations that shape the narrative. So yeah, it really started with Jenny Greenteeth, and then grew out of discovering those older, deeper roots of how people once viewed rivers in a superstitious, almost reverent, way.

This is a horror book for younger readers. Is it difficult finding the balance between scary and entertaining whilst keeping everything age-appropriate?

Finding that balance is really important, especially when you’re writing for younger readers. You’ve got to know where to draw the line. With my stories, there are always some darker, more grisly elements, but with this one, I wanted to keep things fresh but lean more into the horror, simply because it’s just such a fun genre to write and to read. I just really enjoy writing grotesque, tense, and scary moments.

In terms of writing for a younger audience, yeah, you don’t want to go too far. There are boundaries; you can’t lean into certain adult elements like sex or extreme violence. But this book doesn’t shy away from horror either. When I sent in the first draft, there was one scene in particular I thought the publisher might want to tone down. I remember thinking, ‘they’re definitely going to ask me to change that.’ But actually, they really liked it and felt it worked in context. And it was interesting working with my new publisher on this book. My editor, Sarah Odedina, was brilliant. I asked her outright, “Is Chapter 19 going to be a problem?”, because I knew my old publisher probably would have found a problem with it and asked me to change it. But Sarah said, “No, I mean it is a bit horrible and shocking, but it says a lot about the character who does it. It’s not gratuitous.” That really stuck with me.

I think that’s the key with writing horror for teenagers: you take it down a step. The darkness is there, but it isn’t indulgent. When a violent scene happens, you don’t linger on it. I’ll build up tension, maybe suggest what’s happening, or show the aftermath, but I don’t revel in gore. When I do include violence, it’s sharp, brutal, and then we move on.

The truth is, young readers want the horror, they want the scares, and they want to be treated as mature readers. When I write my books for teenagers, I also write them for adults, and I don’t want to patronise or talk down to them. And I’m glad I found a publisher who felt the same, who didn’t shy away from keeping the book shocking where it needed to be. 

At the end of the day, if someone picks up a horror book, they want to be scared, they want to be shocked, they want to be unnerved. So yes, you’ve got to tread carefully, but at the same time, you don’t want to be too careful. Otherwise, you might create something where you're thinking, ‘Oh, that’s a little bit horrible, but it's not very scary.’ 

Most of your books leave their endings up to interpretation, and Thirst does the same. What leads you to this style of writing?

It’s almost a bit of a bad habit of mine, really. Most of my books end with a certain openness, a bit of ambiguity. Some readers find that frustrating, but others really enjoy it, because it gives them space to imagine what might happen next or think about the wider implications. For me, I’m not so keen on everything being perfectly bound up and tied with a ribbon. It’s just not my style, and doesn’t feel like real life. Life rarely gives us absolutes, so I think leaving a little room for uncertainty feels more authentic to me.

I also really like the idea of active reading, which encourages participation from the reader. This way, the reader can come up with their own interpretation of the story and imagine or write their own endings. 

Of course, I know some people prefer a neat, happy ending where everything’s okay, the characters get out of danger, then get married and live happily ever after, but to me, that can feel a bit trite. I’d rather focus on what’s been gained through the journey. With Thirst, for example, we don’t know exactly how things will work out for Gorse [the story's main protagonist] next, but we know he did the right thing no matter what. And I think witnessing this and learning from his personal growth is far more important than a pretty ending.

A lot of your books focus on bravery and self-discovery, and Thirst follows that vein. What draws you to these themes, and what do you hope readers take from the novel?

Part of it is just natural, I think, when you’re writing for that age group. My earlier books were aimed a little younger, maybe nine or ten upwards, but Thirst is more twelve-plus. Still, it’s such a formative age. I remember reading as a teenager myself, and so much of what makes a book work at that stage is relatability. Those years are your formative years, when you’re starting to become your own person, to see the world differently, more independently. You’re beginning to make up your own mind about things, to be influenced more by your mates than your parents; it’s just such a period of self-discovery. So it makes sense to write about characters that age, going through the same things, and hopefully, readers find something in that to connect with.

I also try to keep it realistic. Yes, I’m talking about teenagers, but really, self-discovery applies to adults too. I’m in my mid-forties now, and I’m still surprising myself. I think I know who I am, and then I realise I don’t. People are fluid. We have very loose boundaries, and I think that’s true at any age.

So for me, self-discovery isn’t just a theme for younger readers; it’s part of any good, realistic character arc. If a character is evolving, changing, revealing new sides of themselves, then hopefully that feels realistic and authentic, and maybe even relatable, no matter how old you are.

Could you share a little about the process of writing the book, how it came together, and were there any specific moments you found particularly difficult whilst writing?

I’d say the writing itself came quite easily once I knew what I wanted to do. After I’d gone deep into the folklore research and felt inspired by it, and had my absurd idea of making a river into an antagonistic character, I was gripped. But actually, the drama isn’t just about the river; it’s about the humans around it, and how they act based on that system. That’s where the real power lies: in human decisions. That’s why Gorse is so important in his refusal to be complicit in the way others have been for so long.

The hardest part wasn’t the writing itself, though; it was everything that came before. My last book, Furthermoor, came out in 2022, and that was my third traditionally published book. I felt like I was on a roll, and thought, ‘this is it, I’ve got momentum, my foot’s in the door.’ But then I had a couple of ideas that just didn’t work. Some didn’t click for me, or felt like I was trying too hard, and others didn’t fit with the publisher. I put a lot of pressure on myself with my writing, and suddenly, all of the joy started to go, because it became all about just finding the next thing to latch onto so I could keep my success going, and not about enjoying the process that comes with writing. That was probably the hardest point for me.

But luckily, Thirst came along. It was probably my third or fourth idea that I was exploring at the time, but it was one where everything had just finally clicked into place. I stepped back from forcing it and instead just immersed myself in research and ideas, rather than staring at a blank page. Once the concept was settled, I was so excited. It felt like such a strange, unique approach to horror, and the folkloric angle felt fresh to me as a writer. 

When it came to actually writing Thirst, it was really straightforward, and I actually had most of the story plotted out, so everything just flowed together really well. And when the publisher took it on, and we started editing it, there wasn't actually a huge amount of work to do, and there weren’t any huge structural changes because most of it was already in place. So, long story short, after a few misfires, Thirst arrived, and everything just slotted together really nicely.

It’s wonderful that Thirst has helped you rediscover the joy of writing. And speaking of fun, on your website, you have the most amazing line, “writing is the most fun that you can have without a spoon and a bowl of cake mix.” So now I have to ask, what is your favourite cake?

Oh, my favourite cake? I'm really fond of Pudding Pantry, and there’s one not far from where I live. So I tend to go there if I’m treating myself. Most of their cakes are basically just instant diabetes on a plate, but honestly, they're worth it. 

But I really love the sticky, gooey cakes that have a bit of crunchiness to them. Something like a proper dense brownie, that’s my favourite. The ones where they look tiny, but somehow weigh a tonne and are super concentrated, sticky, rich, chocolate. I’m definitely into them. How about you?

[I have to agree, it’s either a brownie or a really moist red velvet cake, it’s making my mouth water just thinking about them.]

Ah, yes, the moistness makes the cake! That reminds me of carrot cake, with the slightly tangy cream cheese topping, so good. If I’m being honest, I’ll happily eat pretty much any cake.

I have to agree on the cake front. So to sum up, if you could use three words to describe Thirst, what would they be?

Grisly and Tense but Hopeful. A bit like a light at the end of the tunnel.

Thirst by Darren Simpson is out on September 11th, with signed copies available at Five Leaves Bookshop following the launch event.