Words, words, words. That's what we're made of. Herewith some of my thoughts on what we're doing with them.

It's Halloween again, and everybody is tormenting his kid sister with spooky stories. Really, though, the gothic/horror genre is a year-round favourite of writers and readers alike. Heck, I even wrote a gothic horror story (well, sort of) set at Christmas. If you want to write a good horror tale, you should first ask yourself a few questions about your reader and what they want:

1. What are people afraid of?
2. What subjects are most conducive to horror?
3. How do you get your readers in the mood to be scared?

The first question is one which has occupied writers from the early days. The anonymous author of Beowulf figured that people were terrified of monsters that threatened to enter the hall at night. The poet who came up with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight thought it was beings so powerful you couldn't kill them with an axe. And etc. When discussing what some people think is the scariest poem in the world –   The Raven   – Edgar Allen Poe had this to say:

I had now gone so far as the conception of a Raven – the bird of ill omen – monotonously repeating the one word, "Nevermore", at the conclusion of each stanza, in a poem of melancholy tone, and in length about one hundred lines. Now, never losing sight of the object supremeness, or perfection, at all points, I asked myself – "Of all melancholy topics, what, according to the universal understanding of mankind, is the most melancholy?" Death – was the obvious reply.   – Edgar Allen Poe, The Philosophy of Composition

Which sort of explains the high body count at the movies, doesn't it?

The second question is trickier: what subjects work with horror? Are there some that don't? Stephen King fascinates me less because I am frightened by the same things he is – I find clowns boring, not terrifying – than because there is almost no subject King won't try to make a horror story out of. A resort hotel in winter? The Shining. Prom night:? Carrie¹. A classic car? Christine. (Only King and George Romero think Pittsburgh is that scary, in spite of the gothic revival architecture.) A pet cemetery, an airplane, the grocery store…? If it's part of daily life, King will turn a monster loose on it.

Horror is based on the exploration of human fears, yes. But are there subjects that are really not conducive to horror? Well, possibly. If you aren't careful, you'll make people laugh. Laughter will dispel the intended frisson of horror like nothing else. No matter how spooky and atmospheric you're being, if people don't find the subject scary enough, you won't get away with it. Lord Dunsany was a superb gothic writer, and he knew this. He wrote a sneaky short-short story which exploits the fact that some subjects are too mundane to be frightening. It is called Why the Milkman Shudders When He Perceives the Dawn, and it evokes the guildhall of the milkmen, with their ancient, secret traditions (such as mixing borax with water to cheat the consumer). Here is the last sentence:

And the long candles would burn lower and lower and gutter and gutter away till they liquefied in their sockets, and draughts would blow from the shadowy end of the hall stronger and stronger till the shadows came after them, and still I would hold you with that treasured story, not by any wit of mine but all for the sake of its glamour and the times out of which it came; one by one the candles would flare and die and, when all were gone, by the light of ominous sparks when each milkman's face looks fearful to his fellow, you would know, as now you cannot, why the milkman shudders when he perceives the dawn.   – Lord Dunsany, Why the Milkman Shudders When He Perceives the Dawn

I can't repeat what Elektra said when I read this entire story aloud. It won't get through the filter. Read it, and you'll probably say the same thing. Oh, and try it out on your Halloween guests. I'm betting they'll laugh themselves silly, before they suggest popping Night of the Living Dead into the DVD player.

Okay, you've figured out what's scary (mainly Death), and you've eliminated ludicrous subjects and settings (like milkmen at dawn), so you're ready to figure out how to make your readers' hair stand on end. How about hitting them where they live? Find a truly awful place for the Big Bad to show up – like your bedroom at night:

Suddenly – and a throb stung through every nerve – I heard distinctly from behind the wainscot against which the head of my bed was placed a low, hollow moan, followed on the instant by a cackling, malignant laugh from the other side of the room.   – Lafcadio Hearn, The Cedar Closet

That will make you jump. It will also make sure that you check under the box springs before you go to sleep for the rest of the week. This is a good trick you can use: think of someplace you feel safe (like your bedroom, kitchen, or study), and send the ghostie in to make mischief. Heh-heh.

Speaking of ghosties, you've got to make the monster monstrous. I mean, a vampire like Angel or Spike just makes you go 'awww…' You feel sorry for the poor fellow, running around looking for cheerleaders to bite². If that's your game, be my guest, but don’t be surprised when your audience turns out to be full of dewy-eyed teenage girls in black lipstick. To get the reader's blood really pumping (you will pardon the expression), you need to make them shudder at the awfulness of the bad guy:

I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half restored. For the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey. The cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath. The mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.   – Bram Stoker, Dracula

This is one vamp you aren't going to invite over your threshold, just because you're wearing your sexiest lingerie.

One final word about horror stories: no matter how afraid of something you personally are, check with a friend before you try to turn it into a scream-fest. What scares the bejeebers out of you may merely cause others to roll their eyes. For example, if you have OCD, a messy bookshelf may set you back years in your therapy. For others, this is a big yawn. Nature gives you the willies? Er, sorry, most people think it's romantic and/or healthy. Now, if you put a convincing monster out there in the woods…no, a man-eating chipmunk is not a convincing monster. Cut it out. The present writer has a phobia about cicadas. The present writer would not expect anyone else to share this fear. The present writer has seen people pick up grasshoppers with great equanimity, and knows better. The dang things don't even spit tobacco juice, in spite of what grandma said.

You've got a lot to work with here. Everybody's afraid of something, which may explain the popularity of the horror genre. Go for the gusto. Please keep one thing in mind, though…

Sometimes the ghouls you invent come back to haunt you. They may creep into your bedroom at night, demanding to be put into yet another story. So you might want to sleep with the lights on.

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Dmitri Gheorgheni

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