Vivienne (pictured on the left), or Viv as she was more widely known, is my Mum who is sadly no longer with us.
My passion for film, particularly horror films, started with Mum. Through her I was introduced at far too young an age to such classics as Night of the Demon, the Hammer House of Horror, Friday 13th, The Fog, The Thing, The Changeling, Hallowe’en, Alien and – to me then the most horrific of them all – Jaws.
Stephen King featured prominently on our screen and on Mum’s book shelves. I spent many a night dozing off to sleep with the weighty tomes of Christine, Salem’s Lot, Pet Sematary, Cujo and The Dead Zone open on my chest – filling my dreams with vengeful cars, boys floating in the air scraping on windows, cats rising from the dead, rabid dogs and an upsettingly nasty Martin Sheen.
Even then I was utterly fascinated by how the characters and storylines in books could lift from the page and the depths of my imagination to be transformed on screen in some entirely new way by some mysterious team far, far away. I would frequently flick back and forth from book to film to see what had remained true to the original and what had been changed – and whether that change enhanced or detracted from the author’s original vision. It has always been a process that intrigued me.