Monster in the Closet is a history of the horrors film that explores the genre's relationship to the social and cultural history of homosexuality in America. Drawing on a wide variety of films and primary source materials including censorship files, critical reviews, promotional materials, fanzines, men's magazines, and popular news weeklies, the book examines the historical figure of the movie monster in relation to various medical, psychological, religious and social models of homosexuality. While recent work within gay and lesbian studies has explored how the genetic tropes of the horror film intersect with popular culture's understanding of queerness, this is the first book to examine how the concept of the monster queer has evolved from era to era. From the gay and lesbian sensibilities encoded into the form and content of the classical Hollywood horror film, to recent films which play upon AIDS-related fears. Monster in the Closet examines how the horror film started and continues, to demonize (or quite literally "monsterize") queer sexuality, and what the pleasures and "costs" of such representations might be both for individual spectators and culture at large.

Private Investigator Clay Maynard locates missing children for clients, but has nearly given up hope of finding his own daughter, cruelly stolen from him by his ex-wife 23 years ago. Equine therapist Taylor Dawson has chosen to intern at Daphne Montgomery-Carter's stables so that she can observe the program's security director - her father, Clay Maynard. Trying to reconcile the man she's getting to know with the monster her mother described, Taylor never expects to become the target of a real monster. Neither does she expect to fall for Ford Elkhart, who is dealing with his own demons. Taylor starts to imagine a permanent life in Baltimore. But not if the real monster gets to her first...

Jan was a sloppy child. He didn't take good care of his things at all. Blocks and cars were lying around on the floor, the Teddy Bear was hanging on the doorknob by a string and the corners of picture books were curled. mother scolded Jan all the time: "How come you're so sloppy! good children always clean up the mess after playing." Sometimes Jan tried to be a good child and pick up his things, but already the next day he left everything lying around. One evening, when Jan was in bed already, he looked at the wooden pattern on the closet door and started imagining all sorts of things. It seemed to him that one long zig-zag stripe is a river and the darker patches next to it are bushes. After he looked a little bit longer, he already pictured imaginary mountains in the distance and some sort of strange town. This was more like a cave town...

In recent years, the representation of alternative sexuality in the horror film and television has "outed" itself from the shadows from which it once lurked, via the embrace of an outrageously queer horror aesthetic where homosexuality is often unequivocally referenced. In this book, Darren Elliott-Smith departs from the analysis of the monster as a symbol of heterosexual anxiety and fear, and moves to focus instead on queer fears and anxieties within gay male subcultures. Furthermore, he examines the works of significant queer horror film, television producers, and directors to reveal gay men's anxieties about: acceptance and assimilation into Western culture, the perpetuation of self-loathing and gay shame, and further anxieties associations shameful femininity. This book focuses mainly on representations of masculinity, and gay male spectatorship in queer horror films and television post-2000. In titling this sub-genre "queer horror," Elliott-Smith designates horror that is crafted by male directors/producers who self-identify as gay, bi, queer, or transgendered and whose work features homoerotic, or explicitly homosexual, narratives with "out" gay characters. In terms of case studies, this book considers a variety of genres and forms from: video art horror; independently distributed exploitation films (A Far Cry from Home, Rowe Kelly, 2012); queer Gothic soap operas (Dante's Cove, 2005-7); satirical horror comedies (such as The Gay Bed and Breakfast of Terror (Thompson, 2008); low-budget slashers (Hellbent, Etheredge-Outzs, 2007); and contemporary representations of gay zombies in film and television from the pornographic LA Zombie (Bruce LaBruce, 2010)) to the melodramatic In the Flesh (BBC Three 2013-15). Moving from the margins to the mainstream, via the application of psychoanalytic theory, critical and cultural interpretation, interviews with key directors and close readings of classic, cult and modern horror, this book will be invaluable to students and researchers of gender and sexuality in horror film and television.

Growing up, many of us have had fears that surfaced when the lights went out. For some of us they may still exist. The child in my rhyming book is very afraid of the monsters that lurk in the closet and under the bed. At first the child is terrified when the monsters come out. Soon the child realizes that the monsters do not want to harm him but rather play with the toys in the bedroom. But after the monsters mischievous playfulness begins to destroy the bedroom, the child overcomes his fears and takes charge of the situation forcing the monsters to clean up their mess and retreat to their hiding places. I hope you and your child enjoy my whimsical rhyming book "There's A Monster in My Closet."

Through a series of heartfelt meditations, the author reveals the depth and vulnerabilities of the human spirit in a myriad of life experiences. The ups and downs of life ultimately unfold into the oneness of Divine Intimacy once present in childhood. The author's journey allows the reader to reflect on theirs and come to rescue their childhood sparkle as the essence of who they indeed are.