From the underground worlds of horror fiction, Native storytelling, heavy music, and working-class Americana comes author Forrest Lonefight - a writer whose voice feels as raw and unfiltered as the Iowa backroads and construction sites that shape his stories. Known for his latest novel The Pipelayer, Lonefight blends blue-collar realism with dread, addiction, identity, and the strange shadows that linger beneath everyday life. His work doesn’t feel manufactured or polished for mainstream audiences; it feels lived in. Weathered. Real.
What makes Lonefight especially compelling is the way he merges Indigenous perspectives, Midwestern grit, underground music culture, and psychological horror into something uniquely his own. There’s a heaviness to his writing that recalls late-night highway drives, rusted machinery, dive bars, isolation, and the feeling that something ancient might still be buried beneath the surface of America. Beyond literature, Lonefight is also a musician and artist, bringing the same intensity and atmosphere into his creative work.
 |
| Forrest Lonefight is so much more than a musician and an author. |
As the guitar player for the Des Moines band The Maw, Forrest opened my eyes to a hungry and vibrant music scene in Central Iowa. He was a huge inspiration for my previous blog, Bigfoot Diaries (BFD), a project that predominately covered music. I have told friends that Forrest is the greatest guitar player that I've ever seen live. I meant it 100%. I still do.
Blue Banana was honored to speak with Forrest about his books, Iowa, horror, Native identity, music, creative inspiration, and the darker corners of storytelling that continue to pull readers deeper into his world.
Growing up Meskwaki in lowa, were there stories, beliefs, or legends you heard as a kid that stayed with you long after childhood?
My grandma was a great storyteller. She had a way of telling stories. One story she told was of a gambler who would gamble with a dead man. That zombie creature would rise in the middle of the night to gamble with him, lose one of his valuable burial adornments for two nights in a row, then on the third night, the whole cemetery of zombies were waiting for the gambler. They chased him back to his village and tore his family to shreds. That was a cautionary tale. Respect the dead, which was always a customary thing growing up on the Meskwaki Settlement.
How does Meskwaki tradition shape the way you think about creativity, inspiration, or artistic responsibility?
There was a lot of room to play on the Settlement. I was living the real life Zelda. Exploring, finding secret grottos in the woods and pretend-fighting with Octorocks and Leevers in the woods. That’s probably were my imagination bloomed, before anything else. Meskwaki tradition had nothing to do with my inspiration per se. It was a patriarchal society full of rules. I was excluded for the most part and got bullied a lot. My family was ostracized for my grandparent’s Christian beliefs; that’s something I would find out later in life. I’ve always wondered why most Meskwakis never liked me! (Haha!)
I did admire the way that the Meskwaki were a hidden society away from mainstream Iowa. So, that fact opened my eyes to how our country was being run. I was able to see and navigate the complexities of America’s problems and saw the gray areas in the middle of the Reagan’s “Moral Majority” regime days.
Are there certain landscapes in Iowa that still feel spiritually charged to you - places that seem to carry stories?
The hills. The bluffs. Along the river valley. I included a story in my book that takes place along a beaver dam that runs along the Iowa River. I heard stories that a lot of people were buried down there. You would hear different things about that area over the years. But who knows? It is a legitimately dangerous place and I do recall a death of a man in the 2000’s. The legends grow over time.
Is there a difference between the stories told in your books and the stories you tell through guitar?
Well, my last book, Life Belongs to the Loud, was a direct correlated work. I melded those two things together to make a pretty good story. Epic. If I die tomorrow, that’s my testament to music. They are both different modes of expression. Most times they are better left to their own designs, but one can be ambitious and promiscuous just as long as it’s killer in the end!
What do books allow you to express that music can’t - and vice versa?
I was a writer first. At 7 years old, it came to me first. You can make the most mundane situation in the world and make it into something like a Kafka and Dostoevsky novel. Music is much more ethereal. Or I’ll say it like this; Writing is corporeal, music is spiritual. In my Libra mind, one needs a balance of both in order to achieve the great work of life.
Do you think modern audiences misunderstand Indigenous folklore by treating it like fantasy rather than lived belief?
Every culture has their own stories. What’s cool is that many tribes share the same ones. The more Natives I meet, the more I see the things we have in common. Ojibwe, Potawatomi, Meskwaki, even Lakota (our supposed mortal enemies haha) have the same words and culture. Every culture has merit in the human experience, no matter who has the biggest gun.
The show "Reservation Dogs" opened a lot of eyes in the mainstream. It showed that Natives weren’t all just downtrodden tragic apparitions of society. Natives love to laugh and yes, make fun of each other too.
Are there myths or spirits from Meskwaki lore that deserve wider recognition outside Indigenous communities?
Meskwaki got bigfoot! Haha!
The Deer Lady was one we heard growing up. There’s a lot of representation of that now. Stephen Graham Jones did the most brutal Deer Lady in his book, "The Only Good Indians". Reservation Dogs did, probably the sexiest, Deer Lady on their show. So those stories are getting their run in the mainstream now, I would urge you to check those out.
There’s a scourge of right wing videos on YouTube trying to justify their points of view using Native Americans, which isn’t cool; saying that there were prophetic Hopi paintings in caves showing trump and musk wearing red hats as saviors. That BS is something we always gotta be cognizant of and filter out.
There is also a segment of Natives who would rather not have those stories told to the outside world. I’ve already gotten flack for sharing my stories by that segment, but what can a writer do but write his truth?
What does “home” mean to you now: Iowa, Minneapolis, the Meskwaki Nation, or something less physical?
I feel at home wherever I lay my head down. Attending the Des Moines Book Festival was like coming home.
Not so much the Meskwaki Settlement. They’ve been cracking down on us "Descendants / Unenrolled Members" out there. Remember when I told you I wasn’t welcome out there and got bullied growing up? It has really come to a head now. Greed has a lot to do with that, they gotta dis-enroll us and kick us out of the Settlement so they can have all that casino, cigarette, and THC money all to themselves.
There’s a movement brewing now that’s tackling that very issue of tribes dis-enrolling and banishing descendants. The documentary film, "You’re No Indian" is shining a much-needed light on that problem. [The problem] It’s basically another form of genocide.
What do you listen to when you write?
I can't do music when I write, though I do listen to ambient soundscapes to create atmosphere. Ossa Coronata was my go-to band for my latest project; their soundscapes really capture the eerie ghostly church-in-the-woods vibe. I love them!
One time you told me about a gal that you knew who was a strong believer in Shadow People. One night at your house "something" knocked over a fan. Can you tell me about that? What do you associate that to?
There's a new Testament song called, "Shadow People" that totally whisked me back to that time. I believe some people can see things that most people aren't conditioned to see; much like children who can see things that adults can't. Perhaps it may have been a past trauma she experienced, but she claimed that she was cursed. I have no explanation, that incident was an anomaly. She is no longer a part of my life so I don't know if she still sees the Shadow People. She's definitely not alone in seeing them. I included a bit of that in my last novel in a brief, disturbing scene.
Actually, I think my guitar playing buddy Jas Spargur can see them - or ghosts, one of the two.
Do characters in your books sometimes reflect real people you've met in your life?
Oh god yes! Haha! My last book was 90% Autofiction with my life in my band Inhale the Ellipses. I just had a dream last night about the "Rick" character and myself beginning to write songs again for a new project. The old feelings came back and I wasn't so sure it was a good idea! Haha!
The newest book, The Pipelayer has a lot of characters that came from real life, since it spawned from my time working in that field. Inspiration comes from the people you know.
Tell us what The Pipelayer is about and what inspired you to write it.
Ah well, it is about Gaston Johnson, a Native American Pipelayer from Des Moines who is a descendant of the Fox Tribe in Te Ma, Iowa. The company he works for, Price Plumbing, has a job on the Fox Tribal Settlement: a place he never felt accepted. Circumstances and tragedies lead to him to discovering something truly f-ed up while digging underground.
The story switches back-and-forth between the present and 1989. So there some flashbacks that have some of my earliest memories in life. 1989 was a pivotal year for me and I wanted to pay tribute to that time. I had a great time writing it. Also, I should point out that the Fox Tribe is a pseudonym for Meskwaki. It worked for the story, I have some Meskwaki and Sauk words in there and I thought it be classier to protect the names of the innocent and not-so-innocent. Haha!
Now Playing: Percolator Stomp by the Apemen
No comments:
Post a Comment