Some parts of who we are as human beings are self-evident. We all also have our “shadow,” which Swiss psychologist Carl Jung (1842-1896) defined as “the dark aspects of the personality.” What’s more, Jung believed awareness of this shadow to be “the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge.”

To go even deeper, not all our shadow traits must be negative, merely hidden. For instance, while the shadow of a goody-two-shoes might be bitter resentment, a rageaholic’s could be a touching vulnerability.

Thanks, Josh, for the pop-psychology lesson. But what does this have to do with horror fiction?

Oh, I don’t know. How about…everything?

See, I always give my main characters a shadow, and only by realizing this side of themselves do they become whole enough to save the day.

In my forthcoming eco Jewish folk horror novel, CHARWOOD (out August 21 from Aggadah Try It / Madness Heart Press), a young woman named Orna integrates both the positive and negative parts of her shadow to fight dangerous entities threatening the world.

I also passed this shadow through a school of ancient Jewish mysticism known as the Kabbalah. In particular, the Kabbalistic depiction of the “Tree of Life” has ten nodes, or sephirot, symbolizing certain archetypes (Wisdom, Strength, Mercy, etc.) laid out in three columns, the left side being the “feminine” and the right the “masculine.”

Opposite yet interconnected, the Kabbalistic feminine and masculine aren’t bound to anything so earthly as sex or gender but symbolize spiritual forces of the universe. In other words, women can exhibit masculine traits just as easily as men can feminine ones.

Another way of framing it is with the Chinese Yin and Yang, with Yin as the “receptive” or feminine force and Yang as the “active” or masculine (which, again, does NOT mean that women can’t embody active forces or men can’t be receptive). In nature we may see Yin-Yang as water and fire, moon and sun, winter and summer.

In CHARWOOD I incorporate aspects of the Yin/feminine light and shadow as well as the Yang/masculine as they manifest both in Orna and her estranged orthodox Jewish father. But there’s a reason why I made Orna the protagonist and not the dad. And that’s because I’ve already explored the Yang plenty in my writing, and I wanted to give the Yin its due, with Orna symbolizing that essence.

Now, I know how risky it is for a man to write a woman character. But, after carefully observing humanity as an introvert my whole life, studying psychology (did you know I almost joined a program to become a clinical psychologist?), and getting many women’s feedback on the characters I’ve written over the years, I felt I was ready to do it accurately. And, while I can never know what it’s really like to be a woman, I believe Orna is as realistic a character as any of the men I’ve ever written.

Here’s my only worry. Orna, like all my creations, while made mostly of light, also has this shadow. Which means that readers suspicious of me writing a strong, goodhearted albeit flawed woman may ascribe to me an unsavory bias.

It’s kind of a Catch-22, where if I didn’t give her a dark side, I’d be accused of writing a one-dimensional character. Meanwhile, if I do include any typical, relatable aspects of the shadow in her, some may see it as derogatory or even an offensive stereotype. Though I hope it would go without saying that a fault-free protagonist has nothing to overcome. And who wants to read a story about a perfect person making nothing but great decisions?

What I believe is that to truly accept a person, whatever their background, we must embrace their whole being. In my mind, denying someone’s shadow isn’t inclusion but the opposite, the ultimate rejection; it proves that we don’t love them for who they actually are, just some idealized version that doesn’t exist. And while I try my best not to exclude people that way in real life, I NEVER do it to my characters.

So, if you’re open to a suspenseful folk horror tale that takes a deep dive into the Yin/Yang, feminine/masculine, shadow/light, I think you’re really going to like CHARWOOD. But if NOT…for the love of all things holy, PLEASE don’t read this book!