Horror is one of the few genres - romance and comedy are the other two that come to mind - that's all emotion-driven. It's not a rational genre, like science fiction is. It's irrational by nature. And it is capable of exploring all aspects of human experience.

I, as a storyteller, was asking questions no one in science had apparently asked. What happens in a nest of tyrannosaurs? They're precocial, meaning when they hatch, they're ready to feed and move about. My questions are "Hmm, if there's a nest of tyrannosaurs, and there's three siblings that survive, would they try to eat each other?"

I hate superheroes. I always hated superheroes. From the time I was a little kid, I could believe in a 50-foot gorilla trashing New York City before I could believe a guy would put on long tights and bat ears and go and fight crime. Like, the fantasy never made sense to me, on a basic level.

I wanted to reinvent horror comics. I felt like it was my mission to open people's eyes to the fact that horror comics could be so much more than the popular perception of them.

The power of monsters is, it is a way of giving almost tangible substance to fears, beliefs, things that aren't real. You can coalesce it and draw it, or describe it, and it's a monster.

If we can't get more John Rovnaks in this world, let's all support the John Rovnak we've got.

When you're making your living as a writer or an artist or a musician, you kind of live in a trance. You're sort of in the day-to-day world, you're certainly there for your day-to-day relationships with people, and so on.