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06/14/2025 SPECIAL REPORT: Guest Essay and Interview with author Adam Cosco

  • Writer: Candace Nola
    Candace Nola
  • Jun 14
  • 6 min read

This week's Special Feature is on Adam Cosco, an award-winning self-published author, screenwriter, and filmmaker.


Look for our review of his new novel, THE DREAM KILLER, in a couple of weeks but for now, check out his interview and his personal essay on the concept for THE DREAM KILLER.


Enjoy!


THE INTERVIEW:


When did you begin your writing career?

I started writing screenplays back when I was at the American Film Institute. Honestly, I didn’t see any other way to get my work made unless I found a way to do it myself. After I left LA and moved back to Canada, something shifted. I started reading a lot more, and somewhere in that stretch, the idea of writing a novel crept in. At first, it felt completely foreign. I respected the medium too much to dive in blindly. However, after reading enough books, that fear began to dissipate. I stopped worrying about whether I had permission to try and started to feel like maybe, just maybe, I had something worth adding to the conversation.


What do you find the most rewarding, filmmaking or writing?

Writing’s always been the most rewarding part of the process for me, but if I’m honest, what I really love is editing. That second draft is where everything falls into place. Right now, I’m working on something that’s 390 pages long, and it’s completely bloated. I can’t wait to cut it down. There’s something incredibly satisfying about slicing through the excess and watching the real story take shape.


What project to date are you most proud of ?

I’m proud of a VR film I made called Knives—it plays like an episode of The Twilight Zone, with that eerie, off-kilter vibe. I also have a soft spot for a short I made called The Mushroom Sessions. It’s totally different, very grounded, and naturalistic.


As for my books, I like Little Brother; it’s a coming-of-age, body horror story, and I appreciate how simply it’s told. On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, there’s The Dream Killer, which is big, ambitious, and unhinged in the best way. I’ve always loved Carrion Comfort, and The Dream Killer is my attempt at a conspiracy horror novel in that same lane.


Who would you say are your biggest influences in the industry, either in film or publishing?

Lynch, Fincher, Cronenberg—the Davids, as I like to call them. They’ve all had a massive influence on me. When it comes to writing, it’s Arthur C. Clarke, Stephen King, and Dan Simmons. I especially adore Dan Simmons; his writing just pulls you in and doesn’t let go. I love that feeling when you’re deep into a long book and you don’t want it to end.


What is your stance on human created art, books, and movies versus a.i. generated creations?

I’m against AI-generated writing because writing is one of the few truly accessible art forms. Anyone can do it. Even someone sitting in jail for a triple homicide can get their hands on a pen (unless they are on suicide watch) or a laptop. It’s a universal medium; anyone can hone their craft if they’re willing to put in the time.


My take on AI in filmmaking is a bit more complicated. Film is inherently expensive, and for the most part, only the very rich can afford to play with those toys. In that context, I can see the argument that AI might be democratizing, giving more people access to tools that were previously out of reach. I don’t feel that way about writing or visual art, but with film, the conversation feels a little different due to access and financial constraints.


Best piece of advice you were ever given?

I once heard Spielberg say that if you set out to be the next Spielberg, you’re going to be disappointed. Instead, he said the focus should be on the project at hand. Give it everything. Pour your heart into it. If you do that, one project will lead to the next, and then the next, and eventually, you’ll look up and realize you’re living your dream. The trick is not to chase the big picture, but to stay locked into the moment and do the best work you can, one story at a time.


THE ESSAY



I’ve Had the Same Nightmare for 30 Years, and I Finally Wrote It Down

By Adam Cosco


I was ten when I first had the dream.


It was the mid-’90s, and the JonBenét Ramsey case was everywhere, making headlines that were echoed by solemn news anchors, leading to whispers heard through the checkout lines of grocery stores. I didn’t fully grasp the horror of what had occurred, only that a little girl had been found dead in her basement.


That same year, I started having the dream.


In the dream, I found the body of a young girl in my basement. And I knew I had killed her. I don’t remember doing it. There was no violence, no motive, but the guilt was absolute. My parents knew, too. They didn’t call the cops. They helped me cover it up. They hid the body. They coached me on what to say. The police were always nearby, circling. They knew something was off. They were waiting for me to crack. The nightmare wasn’t about murder; it was about guilt. That gnawing, sinking feeling that you've done something unspeakable, and it's only a matter of time before everyone else knows, too.


The dream didn’t stop. It was recurring.


Sometimes it was JonBenét in the dream. Other times, the girl had no face at all. Sometimes I buried the bodies in cement. I remember one variation where the concrete hadn’t dried yet, and a cop was casually chatting with me in the driveway. And right behind him, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of their hands breach the surface like something out of Carrie. A slow, wet cement-covered hand reaching up from the slab.


I had that same dream, some version of it, at least thirty times over the next few decades. It haunted me throughout adolescence, my twenties, and into my thirties. Years would go by without it, and then suddenly, boom, it would hit me again, and I’d wake up drenched.


By then, I was already a filmmaker, already writing scripts. And I knew that the image of a man finding a girl’s body in his basement was one hell of a way to open a story. I started outlining versions, piecing together plots, and testing out directions. But none of them ever lived up to the power of that opening. It was like I had the first chapter of something brilliant, but the rest of the book was missing.


I’ve always been drawn to horror that feels like a nightmare; it’s my favorite subgenre. Kafka’s The Trial, The Fly, and War of the Worlds. The kind of stories where the world is slightly off-kilter, where you’re not sure what’s real. I used to hear about how David Lynch dreamed up the ending to Blue Velvet, and I was always jealous. My dreams didn’t seem to work that way. I got into yoga and meditation, hoping it would unlock something… and maybe it did.


A few years ago, everything changed.


I had the dream again, but this time, it didn’t stop with the body.


It kept going. Into Act Two. Then Act Three. The nightmare mutated into something coherent. It expanded. I saw what happened after the discovery of the body. I saw who the girl was. I saw who I was. And it wasn’t a straightforward dream; it was fragmented, like separate puzzle pieces. But in the end, all the pieces fit. The dream ended in a way that was so cosmically satisfying that I woke up breathless and exhilarated. It was like the most cathartic movie I had ever seen, and it came from me.


That was the moment I knew the story was done with me. Or maybe, more accurately, I was finally ready to tell it.


I didn’t have to think about the plot. The architecture had been living in my subconscious for thirty years. I just wrote it down. Every scene, every twist, every turn felt inevitable, because it had been simmering inside me since childhood.


I haven’t had the dream since. Maybe I exorcised something. Maybe I passed it on.


It started as a glimpse of a real-life horror story on the TV that wormed its way into my ten-year-old brain and refused to leave until I gave it a voice. Now it’s yours.


So, all I can say if you choose to read my book is… sweet dreams.

 


OTHER RESOURCES:


Here is a trailer for The Dream Killer: https://youtu.be/fVyQ0IxRtyc



Link to Amazon page for The Dream Killer: https://a.co/d/74goPum


Link to his other books: https://adamcosco.com/books

 


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Owner: Candace Nola

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