Just when I’ve started to give up, when I started thinking that everything I’m doing to be a published writer is in vain…the Universe makes a suggestion.
I never thought of myself as a Horror writer. I still don’t. I’ve never really read Horror books. I always thought that I had enough problems without trying to scare myself.
To me Horror is blood and gore, ghosts and creepy things in closets, but perhaps I’m being too narrow minded.
Perhaps Horror is simply shedding light on those things which keep us up at night. Those little fears that get bigger as you ignore them.
Most people who read my short stories usually have the same reaction.
“Wow, that was dark!”
I don’t mean to be. It just happens. I see what could happen that is slightly not the normal route and take it. I follow the story in its truism and never contrive happy endings. The world isn’t full of happy endings, it’s full of reality. And that is scary.
So when it was suggested that I market my book as a Horror I flinched. My husband says that if I ever wrote my dreams into stories I would rival Stephen King. I don’t want to set out to scare people but maybe that’s where I’m supposed to go. I’ve always been fascinated by what disastrous or desperate events can do to people or what it will make people do. There is no darkness without light. It’s intriguing what happens when the balance shifts.
Maybe I should just go for it! But then if I do I have to make that commitment and not pull any punches. If it’s one thing I learned in acting class it’s “Raise the stakes!” I also need to read some Horror books. I hope my psyche is stable enough to handle it!
I guess the only way to find out is to take the plunge and see what happens.