Cheryl Isaacs on Creepy Stories, Cultural Gaps, and Trusting Your Inner Storyteller

Author Cheryl Isaacs might be best known for her debut novel The Unfinished, but long before it hit shelves, she was already running—both through stories and through the Carolinian forests of Southwestern Ontario. A proud Mohawk woman from Six Nations, Isaacs is an educator, runner, and writer who weaves Indigenous identity into eerie, heartfelt fiction that lingers in the mind long after the last page.

In her conversation with RONN!E on Daybreak Star Radio, Isaacs opened up about her path to storytelling, the early influence of horror, and why aspiring Indigenous writers don’t need to wait for permission to start.

Childhood Stories and Shiny Parenting Moments

Cheryl Isaacs started telling stories long before she knew that’s what she was doing. “I remember being in kindergarten, drawing pictures, and being asked to explain them,” she recalled. Her first remembered tale featured a rabbit and its vegetable friends—hardly foreshadowing her future in horror fiction, but very much proof of an early imagination in full swing.

Then came the turning point: reading Stephen King’s The Shining at far too young an age. “It was probably closer to ten,” she admitted, laughing. “Definitely not age-appropriate.” But that early exposure to horror didn’t traumatize her—it inspired her. It cracked open a fascination with the uncanny, the in-between, the things that live just outside the corner of your eye.

Horror Without the Gore

Isaacs is often placed in the horror genre, but she doesn’t write gore-fests or slasher scenes. Her version of horror is quieter, stranger, and more psychological. “I like those moments where our reality overlaps with something else,” she explained. “Not everything has to be Saw to be horror.”

That perspective shapes her writing process, too. She’s a “pantser”—someone who writes by the seat of their pants rather than outlining everything ahead of time. “I love a blank document and a warm beverage,” she said. “And I have a truly unnecessary collection of pens and notebooks. Writers know the struggle.”

Her ideas often come in fragments—scribbled notes on scrap paper or moments caught post-shower and tossed into a growing pile of future chapters. She doesn’t need a strict routine; she just needs to stay open to inspiration, wherever it strikes.

Writing for the Ones Who Don’t See Themselves

As an Indigenous writer, Isaacs is acutely aware of what’s missing in mainstream literature—and even in Native publishing. “There are beautiful children’s books out there with Indigenous kids growing up in community, speaking the language,” she said. “But what about the kids who didn’t grow up that way?”

She writes for those kids—the ones who might feel disconnected from their heritage through no fault of their own. “I want them to recognize themselves and not feel like their experience isn’t valid.”

And she’s clear that Indigenous literature shouldn’t be boxed in or only marketed to Indigenous readers. “Non-Native readers need to read these stories too,” she said. “It’s not just about what’s different—it’s about what’s shared.”

Staying Motivated, Even When It Gets Hard

Isaacs doesn’t pretend writing is always easy. She’s had her share of writer’s block, though she didn’t realize it at first. “I just thought the story sucked,” she said. Now, she juggles multiple projects at once. “If I get stuck, I set one story down and pick up another. Sometimes a little distance is all it takes.”

That flexibility has paid off—her sequel to The Unfinished, titled The Others, is due out this September. She’s also working on a darker adult novel and has a short story featured in the upcoming anthology The Legendary Frybread Drive-In.

Advice for Aspiring Indigenous Storytellers

Her message to Native youth who dream of storytelling is clear and powerful: “If you dream of becoming a storyteller, you likely already are.” Isaacs encourages young creators to find the format that speaks to them—writing, film, performance—and not to wait for external validation.

“Not everything has to be monetized. Not everything has to be public to be valid. If you’re telling stories for yourself, or your family, you’re already doing it.”

Impact and Intimacy

As for what she hopes her stories do for readers? “I want people to feel something. I want them to cry. I want them to feel seen.”

While she enjoys the energy of big crowds, she thrives in small, intimate settings where she can speak directly with readers. “That connection—that’s everything to me.”

Cheryl Isaacs doesn’t write to change the world, but by adding her voice to it, she’s doing just that. With honesty, humor, and a healthy dose of creepy, she’s building a space for stories that didn’t always have a place—and showing others they can do the same.

You can explore more of Cheryl Isaacs’ work and upcoming projects at cherylisaacs.ca.