Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day

Some have described your stories as "contemporary fables" and "post-modern fairy tales." Did you set out to invigorate these classic forms of storytelling? What is appealing to you about these traditions?
I grew up reading fables and fairy tales (as well as anything I could find about ghosts, monsters, unsolved mysteries, astronauts and aliens), so it doesn't surprise me when that kind of stuff finds its way onto the page when I write, but it's certainly not intentional... I just write whatever comes out. In my mind, I'm just writing stories, not fables (and definitely not fairy tales (not that I have anything against them, but there are no princesses or castles in my book)).
Really, I think what I do is closer in feel to The Twilight Zone than anything else, and most heavily indebted to writers of weird fiction like Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont, and H.P. Lovecraft. But I guess because they're written so sparely, they come across as a throwback to another time. And I have always really loved Aesop's fables, so I don't mind the comparison.
Your stories are marked by a highly imaginative spirit, and sense of wonder. Do you think that your stories are appealing to children? What did you read as a child, and do you think this has influenced you as a writer?
I hope that my stories appeal to children! And I'm often told that they do ("The House on the Cliff and the Sea," apparently, is a big favorite with them). Many of the stories are pretty dark though— not that there's a lot of sex and violence or anything— but the themes tend to be existential, and often involve matters of life and death. But that was the way all my favorite books were when I was little... Roald Dahl's Danny The Champion of the World, A Wrinkle in Time, The Lord of the Rings, even the Narnia books... I think kids know a lot more about darkness than we like to think they do. (Probably because they are essentially powerless and the world is still new to them and strange.)
The collection is a mix of daydreams and nightmares, as the title suggests. Do you think the distinction between the two is immutable, or is there some crossover?
There's definitely crossover. I never really thought of it as a collection of nightmares and dreams, though the stories definitely have surreal qualities. I think of dreams and nightmares as fragmentary and confused, while my stories are all classically structured.
The title actually was intended to describe not so much the stories themselves as the emotional disposition of the reader... i.e., they are stories meant to be read in times of uncertainty and confusion, but also sometimes when one is happy.
In addition to being a writer, you have worn another hat, and worked as a screenwriter. Do you think your work in film has had an impact on your writing? Are there films or filmmakers you love that you think have influenced your work?
Without a doubt, screenwriting had a huge impact on me; it taught me to think dramatically— on the level of story instead of simply sentences— and beyond that, to always keep the reader visualizing, and to beware the seductions of the abstract.
My favorite filmmakers are many and varied, but my biggest influences would probably be Hitchcock, Howard Hawks (I'm a huge fan of His Girl Friday), Buster Keaton, David Lynch, and Luis Bunuel. Plus all those geniuses over at Warner Brothers cartoons— Tex Avery, Chuck Jones, Friz Freleng, and the rest— who are the guys who really taught me that there are truly no limits in storytelling, and that comedy and horror and drama and satire can all happily co-exist in the same piece (and indeed, support one another).
Who have you discovered lately?
I've actually been having a great year reading-wise; I recently discovered both Javier Marias and Jean Echenoz, two European writers who are diametrical opposites but (perhaps for that reason) inextricably linked in my mind. Marias' A Heart So White nearly drove me crazy when I was reading it, with its constant circling and repetitive, repetitive, repetitive chiseling... but is now etched forever in my mind, like a place I used to live and still dream about. And Echenoz's Ravel was just a delight of a book; even if I weren't a huge fan of the composer already I'm sure the book would have made me one. Just really clean, light, sparkling writing which somehow creates a profound effect.
I've also recently discovered Norman Mailer (I know, I'm behind on a lot of things), and especially enjoyed Tough Guys Don't Dance and An American Dream (both of which were recommended to me by Sarah Rose Etter, author of the brilliant collection Tongue Party, which everyone should immediately buy and read). His The Gospel According to the Son, however... hmmm, not quite so good.
And lastly, though I've always been a Muriel Spark fan— based on The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and Memento Mori— I finally made it past those two books to discover she actually wrote a huge number of them! So far I've been through The Driver's Seat and Loitering with Intent... both of which are gleefully murderous little books... and I have a stack of at least seven more sitting on my nightstand raring to go. And the best thing about them is they're all so short! I love a writer who knows when to stop talking.