Katya de Becerra is a multi-award-winning author of horror and speculative fiction whose work blends folklore, myth and the uncanny to explore identity, transformation and belonging. Her forthcoming novel Little Kin continues this tradition, weaving narratives that interrogate family ties and cultural memory. Katya’s previous novels (What the Woods Keep, Oasis, When Ghosts Call Us Home, and They Watch from Below) have been praised for their atmospheric storytelling and genre-bending approach, earning her recognition as a distinctive voice in contemporary horror and fantasy. Katya was going to be an Egyptologist when she grew up, but instead she earned a PhD in Anthropology.
In this Q&A, Katya talks with our program manager, Gabriella Munoz, about her most recent novel, her writing process and how to master the horror genre.
Tell us more about your latest book and what inspired you to write it.
Little Kin is my forthcoming adult folk‑horror novel, set on the fictional island of Rothagisht. Located near the Arctic Circle, Rothagisht is a remote place defined by isolation, harsh beauty and traditions that bind its inhabitants as tightly as blood. The book grew out of my long‑standing dual life as a cultural anthropologist and a writer of horror. I was inspired by the question of what we owe to family and community when survival depends on belonging, and how easily care can curdle into coercion when traditions go unchallenged.
Little Kin is deeply invested in ritual, the sense of place and the slow revelation of the uncanny, using the Arctic setting to explore themes of interdependence, control and the inescapable pull of lineage.
What role have books played in your life?
Books have always been part of how I make my way through the world. Growing up as a lonely, studious kid and later making a home in Australia as an immigrant, reading gave me a sense of continuity and belonging. I’d read whatever my parents had at our extensive home library, from Nancy Drew to Bulgakov. Over time, my love of stories grew into two parallel paths: academic work in cultural anthropology, and writing horror. In both cases, books taught me how to pay attention: to people, to rituals, to place and to the quiet tensions that sit beneath everyday life. For me, books aren’t just a comfort or an escape; they’re a way of thinking, feeling and asking better questions. They’re the reason I became a writer in the first place.
Whose writing do you admire?
I grew up devouring old, melancholic Sci-Fi stories, like those of Ray Bradbury, Stanislaw Lem, Vadim Shefner and the Strugatsky brothers. I was also (and still am!) obsessed with Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, the poetry and essays of Joseph Brodsky, short stories and poems of Jorge Luis Borges, and the wonderful Moomintroll novels of Tove Jansson. From my contemporaries, I most admire Carmen María Machado, Melissa Broder, Marisha Pessl, Jeff VanderMeer and Johnny Compton (and many others).
Self-doubt seems to be part of being a writer. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to another horror writer about how to overcome it?
The only antidote to a writer’s self-doubt is… writing! Immersing yourself in stories you enjoy and which speak to you is the best way of developing your own craft. Finishing a first draft is a great achievement worthy of a celebration, but taking the next steps is equally important: getting feedback from the right sources, finding likeminded writers at a similar career stage, familiarising yourself with the publishing industry and building your support circles. Learning more about horror, how diverse it is and how powerful it can be, is also a great way to expand your mind and generate ideas unique to who you are.
It is our job as horror writers to subvert cliches and turn stale tropes on their heads.
What does your writing process and routine look like?
Being an academic means my writing practice runs alongside my full-time university job. On the days I work from home I write in the morning and during my breaks. I tend to work on several books at once, until one project emerges as the most urgent to finish. I have too many ideas but not enough time! The most difficult thing is to pick the one idea that calls to me the most but which is also something that would interest a potential publisher. I get started by writing the first few chapters, then pause to outline and brainstorm the key plot points and the ending, before drafting the rest. I enjoy drafting and revising equally, though there’s certainly something truly magical to writing a story from scratch.
In your experience, what is the most difficult element of the horror genre to master
Aside from typical craft challenges relevant to all kinds of storytelling (creating compelling characters, sustaining narrative tension, etc), the elements that can be particularly tough to master in the horror genre are how to keep things subtle while building dread, and how to craft an ending that achieves a terrifying and satisfying resolution. Good horror offers a terrific premise and plenty of scary imagery, but great horror lulls you into a false sense of normalcy before catching you off guard. It’s also important to be aware of horror tropes and genre expectations—it is our job as horror writers to subvert cliches and turn stale tropes on their heads.
What are you hoping participants of your workshop will take with them?
I hope my participants will leave the workshop inspired to read more horror stories, and hopefully to write one of their own. Horror is probably the most misunderstood of genres: I often encounter negative reactions when I announce myself as a horror writer, and I see it as my responsibility to try and change the minds of horror-resistant readers. Horror is diverse and wide-ranging, and while everyone’s fear threshold is different, I truly believe we can all benefit from engaging with scary stories on some level. Horror makes for an excellent canvas to test out experimental ideas and approaches to craft, whether it’s by rethinking old tropes in new ways or reimagining what familiar ghosts and monsters can mean in today’s increasingly unstable and complicated world.
Enrol in Katya de Becerra’s workshop Our Monsters, Our Selves: Writing Horror that Resonates on Saturday 2 May.