A Little Chill
Do you like horror stories?
Judging from the oodles of money horror movies rack in, and have been racking in since the birth of cinema, the answer is probably yes. I was at the IMAX recently (guess what kind of searing chiller I went to see) and one of the trailers showed a new installment of The Exorcist. I didn’t need to see the title card, the music was enough to give the game away. You get two possessed girls instead of one for the price of your ticket this time. Makes sense, that ticket is a lot more expensive than 50 years ago.
The horror genre is literally a beast with innumerable limbs and there’s something for everyone. First you have the aristocrats of the bunch: the monsters. Most trace their roots back to legends and folk tales. All cultures have them. Vampires, zombies, werewolves, sprites and goblins, ghosts and shape shifters, dragons and creatures of the deep have been with us for as long as humans have had nightmares. I guess an accidental encounter with a sabertooth tiger will do that to you.
Slashers are relative newcomers, late 19th century. I’m neither a psychologist nor a horror historian, but I wonder if the squalid and overcrowded cities of the industrial revolution have something to do with it. Too many people packed together … some kind of Victorian road rage? The period gave us Jack the Ripper and Mr. Hyde, Mary Shelley and Edgar Allan Poe.
It will come as no surprise that horror tropes evolve and diversify with technology. We have Terminators, HAL 9000 and its ilk (expect more about the evil AI can do), threats from outer space, and deadly viruses. Now I feel like I’m reading the news … Our ancestors put everything in a box labeled Demons. A convenient shortcut that covers all the bases.
This brief nomenclature makes it clear that Horror is a genre that tends to bleed. It gleefully spills over. Into Fantasy—obviously—into Science Fiction, and definitely into Crime. Romance is not out of the question either, far from it. I like to say that, at a stretch, all literature is crime fiction. In the case of Horror, it works the other way. The genre touches the entire literary universe.
And writers love to confuse things. Stephen King, hats off to the master, felt the urge to write Billy Summers, a crime novel. I would argue that The Outsider, for more than half its length, the best part in my opinion, is a straight investigative novel. William Hjortsberg’s Falling Angel (the source for Mickey Rourke’s film Angel Heart) is a superb retro noir built on horror tropes. If you don’t know it, go get it. It’s well worth your time. If you’re familiar with the movie, it will give you a pleasant tickle. And where do you shelve Thomas Harris’s Silence of the Lambs? Clarice is an FBI trainee but that doesn’t make the story a police procedural.
I’m sure you have your own list of interesting crossovers.
I got on this train of thought because, from time to time, I tip my toe into semi-horrific waters. It happens when I need to loosen the constraints of crime fiction: realism, deductive reasoning, causes and consequences … Even if I often inject a touch of absurdity or weirdness in my pieces, when I write a mystery, I don’t step too far from logic.
Sometimes being rational gets tiresome. I want a break from “Just the facts, ma’am,” and Conan Doyle’s pronouncement: “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
Horror stories are about the impossible. You can’t eliminate anything. It gives the writer a ton of freedom.
My impossible stories are not edge-of-your-seat scary. They play around “unease”. I don’t have the inclination to go to bone crushing or gushing gore extremes. Everyday situations that slide into weirdness interest me. I like that point where the ground isn’t stable under the characters’ feet anymore, when the fabric of reality starts cracking. The stories usually start in regular domestic settings and sneakily slip into something else. I’ve written “chillers” about a couple adopting a pet, a young man completing his grandfather’s garden design, a girl who doesn’t want to go to church on Sunday, a woman inheriting her grandmother’s house. All these are fertile terrain for quiet dread. Any everyday occurrence can be turned into a strange excursion. Just add a pinch of “what if.”
I also have to confess a culpable romantic attraction for what a friend calls “my fangers” 🧛. One of these tales is scheduled for publication around Halloween, I’ll keep you posted. It’s sweet, with teeth. In the meantime, you can read Royal & Ancient on the Not Deer Magazine site. It’s a funny mash-up of fantasy and corporate drudgery. Even the Undead will get bored during annual meetings! Enjoy.
Until next time.