There was a summer storm brewing last night. Although the rain never came the thunderheads gathered across the sunset turning the sky an ominous shade of orange. Visibility was low and as I gazed across the street I thought of sinister plots and London fog. Why is it, I thought, that so many writers still use fog to build atmosphere? Surely creepy things can happen in dust storms as well. An apt conversation as this is the time to be writing Halloween tales.
Part of the charm of the Halloween tale is the nostalgia, a traditional telling of a tale set in autumn. But tradition can border on boredom if we refuse to see it through new eyes and refresh the imagery. The dark and stormy night with the dilapidated old mansion in a heavily wooded middle-of-nowhere place doesn’t reflect our current day experience. What about that creepy foreclosure at the end of the street though? You know, the one that keeps changing hands—people move in, people move out—they’re gone before you can make an introduction.
What are some of the elements we usually use to build a frightening tale? We touched on a couple, abandoned houses and, of course, the fog. What are some other images that might be over used? What can we substitute for them?
A fun exercise is to take your favorite traditional tale and re-work it. What substitutions can you make to bring this tale into modern times? Can you change the elements around so that the story takes place in a different part of the country without loosing the fright factor?
As my mother once told me, “There is nothing there in the dark that wasn’t there when the lights were on.” Which leads me to my next question… what is that standing next to you?
photos and text by Robyn Chausse
I can think of a few things that scare me: rejection letters, unpaid bills, and me in a thong. But I'm talking really scary, the things that send chills up your spine when you read a short story. It takes a certain type of writer who can plow the depths of darkness, build suspense, and twist a story ending so the reader doesn't see it coming.
What are some other elements scary stories need in order to be truly scary? Here are a few tips from a great book on horror writing, aptly named On Writing Horror, by the Horror Writers Association.
Suspenseful Beginnings:
You might launch your story with the mud having already filled up the entire basement and swallowed the plumber, but it's far creepier to show the mud growing mysteriously over time before the plumber kicks the bucket. You want to find a starting place close enough to the action to be compelling but distant enough to allow for suspense; that's a delicate (and difficult) balance to strive for in every story.
Find the Thing that Frightens You:
Giving a strategic glimpse of what frightens you can lessen the effect of writing about that thing's impact on you, and it can, at the same time, increase the impact of that thing (whatever it is) on your readers. Find the single facet of that thing that frightens you--that which most everyone can relate to--and use that one facet as a weapon to frighten your readers.
End with a Twist:
An ending that defies expectation and adds a new twist can make for a memorable story, but please remember, I said twist, not gimmick. The gimmick, that which is utterly unexpected because there has not been even a telepathic hint of its possibility, risks totally blowing the suspension of disbelief and ruining all your previous hard work.
Those are just a few excerpts from On Writing Horror. If you are a horror writer, it's a great reference book that you'll want on your shelf.
The popularity of horror novels and stories attest to the fact that most of us love a scary story. They get our blood pumping, our adrenaline rushing, and bring out our most primal instinct: fear.
Here are a few things that make a story scary for me:
- The fear of what could happen
- The probability that it will happen
- Believability, even if the subject matter may seem unbelievable
- If the story is true
In celebration of Halloween, I'd like a
treat from you. And this is not a
trick question. Excuse the pun, couldn't resist!
What frightens you? What makes a story scary to you as a writer or reader?
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There was a summer storm brewing last night. Although the rain never came the thunderheads gathered across the sunset turning the sky an ominous shade of orange. Visibility was low and as I gazed across the street I thought of sinister plots and London fog. Why is it, I thought, that so many writers still use fog to build atmosphere? Surely creepy things can happen in dust storms as well. An apt conversation as this is the time to be writing Halloween tales.
A fun exercise is to take your favorite traditional tale and re-work it. What substitutions can you make to bring this tale into modern times? Can you change the elements around so that the story takes place in a different part of the country without loosing the fright factor?
A lot of the images we depend on are outdated; not just from overuse but the natural changes in our culture over time. When Frankenstein and Dracula were written, the authors could depend on the delicate sensibilities of a populace that feared foreigners, technology, and basic human nature (Sex! Science! Oh nos!). Now people aren't particularly squeamish about boobs or the creepy house down the street because they can just flip on the TV to see both on reruns of Buffy.
A few cliches I wish people would drop: wide-eyed dolls, ghosts of despondent children, and serial killer hunting games (e.g. "I'm a hunter...and you're the game!"). A good cat-and-mouse can be terrifying, but not if it's the crutch for your entire plot.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts Tamara, I agree.
I'd like to hear from some other readers--what cliches can we drop?