Why I write horror
If you’re a horror writer, it’s a question you’re going to hear eventually:
“Why did you choose to write horror?”
Usually this is asked at places where the people don’t know you very well, like at a party or happy hour. Your interrogator will take long swig of their drink and gaze into your eyes with a look that’s supposed to convey sincerity and thoughtfulness. But listen closely, there’s usually a little bit of judgment in their tone.
“What’s with all the scary stuff?”
Of course, they’re thinking about all the genres they happen to like. They’re thinking about crime stories and science fiction and westerns. They’re thinking about historical dramas and stories about social unrest. They’re thinking about historical fiction and young adult fiction and every type of fiction in between.
They want to know —with all these other topics out there in the world—why do you choose to write about monsters, serial killers, and things that go bump in the night?
Well, here’s the answer.
Come closer….
No just a little bit closer…
Closer still…
The answer is: Because I like it.
How it all began
Horror has had its grisly hooks in me ever since I was a kid. Maybe it all started with Scooby Doo cartoons. All those and mummies and aliens and phantoms, which usually ended up being local thugs who would have gotten away with their crimes, you know, if it weren’t for those meddling kids. Once I outgrew Shaggy and Velma and the gang, I moved on to old Hammer films. I’d camp out every Saturday afternoon in front of the TV watching whatever horror movies I could find, everything from Godzilla to King Kong and The Creature from the Black Lagoon to Frankenstein. At the grocery store, I’d beg my mom for horror comic books like Tomb of Dracula and Tales of Mystery. At the school library, I checked out every scary book I could find, from A Watcher in the Woods to Blackbriar. I didn’t think about the why too much, I just knew it felt exciting to read those things. Like I was doing something forbidden.
Old Hammer movies were an obsession in my youth—plus, they taught me how to make friends.
At the time, I didn’t understand the physiological reaction that was happening inside my body when I felt scared. All that adrenaline and serotonin surging through my bloodstream. I just knew it gave me a charge. It made me feel wound up. It let me know I was alive.
What nobody tells you is that horror is like a drug. What scares you keeps on scaring you—until it doesn’t. After that, you need a bigger thrill to give you that same sensory kick. Little did I know, but I was turning into a horror junkie.
The next chapter
As I grew up, my tastes grew with me.
In my teen years, I started looking for the next thing that would give me that feeling of excitement. This was back when Stephen King was breaking out in the mainstream. All of a sudden, every kid at school was sneaking their parents’ spooky novels around in their backpacks. I borrowed one from a friend: Firestarter.
Although Firestarter isn’t really horror, it’s tightly paced and filled with tense moments that blew my mind (the fingernail torture scene, jeez!). After that, I began devouring every Stephen King book I could. Salem’s Lot. Pet Semetary. Cujo. When it comes to early Stephen King stuff — you name it, I gobbled it up. Misery was the first book I simply could not put down. That one, I finished in two days flat. In the wake of that experience, I can recall reeling in an almost post-coital glow and thinking for the first time I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. It took me many years to find the courage to get started, but once I did, horror was all I ever wanted to write.
The works of Stephen King made me want to write horror.
By the way, I once read a fantastic response to the question of “Why would someone write choose to write horror?” delivered by the King of Horror himself. When the interviewer asked the question, this was the response:
“You know, I don’t see people going around asking romance writers why they write romance…”
Which is a very good point.
Where I’m at today
A lot of people look down on the horror genre because of what they see on the surface. Sure, there’s all the blood and gore, monsters, and demons. But underneath it all, the genre is filled with some of the most beautiful and heart-wrenching stories you’ll ever read, and never more finely delivered than when crafted by some of the genre’s true artists. Take the rich, powerful prose of Clive Barker. The cool intellectualism of Alan Moore. The sensual brutality of Joyce Carol Oates. Anne Rice and her gothic romances. To read these authors is to surrender control of your senses. You step into their worlds completely and willingly because you know they’re always going to bring the goods.
What’s even better is that a new generation of writers are finding ways to keep the horror genre vital and alive. I’m thinking of Joe Lansdale and his aw-shucks relatability. The visceral imagery in a Richard Thomas tale. The lyrical minimalism of Stephen Graham Jones. When you read these authors, it’s hard not to believe we’re experiencing a true horror renaissance.
Photo by Joy Marino on Pexels.com
A new generation of horror writers are taking the genre boldly into the future
The future
It’s in that spirit of wonder that I keep blazing forward with my own work. I write filled with the hope that one day, I might be able to contribute something meaningful to this genre I love so much. That’s what gets me up in the morning, keeps me returning to the keyboard when life gets tough. And sure, I’ll be the first to admit I’ve got a long way to go. But oh boy, I’m having the time of my life getting there.