All about horror, and horror's what it's all about.

Or, what works in horror and what doesn't. Because a lot of horror really doesn't work. We should all know this now that Halloween is done and we've gorged on scary movies and spooky books. Who am I, then, to talk about this?

I write horror novels, mostly. The primary target audience is not adult. I'm aiming for the 12-15 year olds (although if the rest of the world wants to hop on board I'm convinced they'll enjoy the ride). This has thrown up a key question: How much horror is the right amount of horror? This is followed by a further question: Am I getting it right? One final question: How much of my writing time can I waste by writing a blog about these pertinent questions?

All my keys say this.

My first go at YA horror was called Macadamian Pliers and it's about a particularly sinister man with an unpleasant plan. We've got haunted houses, growlings in attics, vigorous ghosts, draggings into dark wardrobes, a mausoleum, and a fairly hectic final sequence. I tipped a couple of bags of horror in and gave it all a good stir. I told myself while writing it not to hold back, not to self-censor, just get the story done. I didn't want to dilute the inherent badness of a man like Pliers. As it turns out, Mac was the first of my stories I actually enjoyed upon reading it back (after letting it settle for a couple of months - it's vital to step away and leave the first draft alone when finished). There's a sense of foreboding to the piece, and Mac himself is creepy as hell. It's about the scares, not the grue.

And it's not exactly the stuff I thought I'd write.

When I was younger (late teens - like I was ever there) I envisioned myself as becoming a writer with Stephen King's enviable ability to spin a tale and James Herbert's ability to shock (all those chewing rats - yuk), but my heart wasn't quite in it. There was little joy in blood and guts for the sake of it. All the gruesome stuff... it's horrible, yes, but is it really horror? As a fan who's seen far too many films and read plenty of books, I'll tell you here and now that the answer is very, very close to no. Your Saws and Final Destinations and Shaun Hutson books and all the rest can be found at the lowest level, where the horror genre is at its least effective. No point in arguing with me, because it's true. Ring and Spiral (both in book and film form) are exponentially more effective at scaring, at horrifying, at lingering long after they are over. There's a couple of bits in Mama (which I watched recently - decent film, terrible ending as usual) which actually caused my toes to curl. Scares driven by suggestion. The Conjuring films and the second Annabelle are equally effective. The first Annabelle movie is not (and do not ever speak to me of the abysmal The Nun).
The blood is the after-effect of the event. It is the result. It should not be the whole story.

That cover still gives me the heeby-jeebies.

So I'm not that into blood and grue. My writing should be alright for younger readers, then? Nothing wrong with a few scares.
But there's those who will automatically shake their head and demand such books be burned. Ghosts and ghouls and bad men at the bottom of the garden? Horror is for grown-up sickos, not kids. No spooky stuff, no ghosts, no wizards even. Look at all the hullabaloo about Harry Potter in the US of A (funny bunch, you Americans). Maybe there's a good point to be made - a young person's imagination is electric and lively, and is arguably far better than an adult's at making these spooks and demons real.
Yes, I don't bother with the extremely icky stuff. It's all about the power of suggestion people! And that power can be strong. The threat is all you need. Any idiot can write in detail about cuts and splashes and gouts and sprays and loppings and choppings. Can you make the reader fear those horrors without ever painting them clearly? If so, the reader is yours to manipulate - and therein lies my concern.

Conscience, then, can be the writer's only guide. Conscience and confidence, the assurance that you know how far is far enough.

I've said before that horror is a constant let-down. And it's running out of ideas, right? So why am I bothering? Well, for the reasons I've discussed. There are other ways to go with horror, other stories to tell. There are plenty of characters waiting for someone to forget all the old cliches and to concentrate on story instead.

But I've got a cheek. Even I, who dares to spout off like he knows anything, am guilty of stealing well-worn tropes and settings.
The graveyard is one such classic setting. It comes with spookiness built-in. The second novel was called A Graveyard Visible. And yes, I am aware that I'm wide open to accusations of laziness. Ooo. A graveyard. And spookiness. Well done, Steve. However did you come up with that? Do something new, you might yell in my general direction. You think you're so clever? Try doing horror somewhere totally new, like a haunted microwave, make that scary! Well, shut your face. I've given the haunted house a twist, (a twist in the grim shape of a man called Macadamian) and I did something new down at the graveyard as well.
(God, I get so defensive when I make up arguments in my head.)

Anyway, I'm done for now. I'll probably have more to say about this...

Laters.

Ghosts and Ghoulies and Trunks, Oh My!

Hey.

Gonna wheel out an old classic blog for one more Halloween haunt.

I wrote this horror book a couple of years before A Graveyard Visible, see. It's called Macadamian Pliers. Haunted house, a man of strange angles, trouble in a new town.  It's got everything you need for Halloween. (Hint, hint. So does 'A Graveyard Visible'. Graveyards, revenants, abandoned mansions, what more do you want?) And one of the kids in it, Jack, he's crazy-mad about ghosts and ghoulies and stuff. He's got a mondo-huge collection of mad spooky stories, new stuff and his own takes on the classics, and he sticks them all up on this website he shares with Cherry and Frank Raine - ihatemacadamianpliers.weebly.com So, to get into the mood for that most creepy time of the year, I'm going to let him take over my blog.

Okay, I'm handing over to Jack now. The kid tells a mean story. Strap in, and good luck.

The Trunk

I'll start with this bad ass story that messed my skull up for days. I got a trunk full of comics and couldn't go near them, which was a real pain.

'There was this old house that was abandoned and up for sale and these college kids were always messing around in there, having parties and stuff. There was usually about seven or eight of them, and they decided to play hide and seek. The game went on for a total age, and the college kids got bored before they finished they game, and did off. It wasn't until the next day that they realised one of them, a girl, was missing. They phoned her and called round her house and she never turned up. She was totally gone.
So it's five months after all this happened, and this family bought the house and moved in. They had a ton of stuff so it took an age, and there was a bunch of old furniture and stuff there already, but the mom wanted to keep it because she thought it was cool, the weird way oldies do. In the kid's bedroom was this properly old trunk, and that was where he wanted to stick his toys, but the lock on it was stuck. The dad sorted that out with a hammer, and they opened the trunk, and in there was the rotted body of the missing girl, all stinking and putrid, and her mouth was open in a big wide O, and her nails were all broken where she'd tried to get out.
Sick!
That ain't all of it.
The police took the body, and the family threw the trunk out. The kid was a total sycolo.. psykol... mental mess, but eventually he had to sleep in his room on his own. He was there in the dark, on his own, and BOOM! There was a loud thud, like something real heavy landing on the floor. He was so scared he couldn't shout for his mom. He could hardly bring himself to turn on the light... but when he did, it was there! The trunk had come back. He was actually kinda glad to see it coz he could stick all his toys and junk in there, so he got out of bed and went to the trunk and opened it up, and a rotting corpse leapt out and dragged him in!
When the trunk was eventually searched it was completely empty. Years later another family moved in and got rid of the trunk, but the next night when their little girl went to bed it reappeared, and do you know why? Because the thing in the trunk was hungry again, and it was time for another meal...'

Bloody Mary

I'm gonna tell this one the way my sister tells it, because her version kicks ass.

'It was, like, a century ago, before most of these houses were here. There was a woman who lived by the lake, the one past where the school is, and she lived there alone with her little daughter. The kid ended up drowning in the lake and this woman, Mary, she couldn’t cope with the grief. Eventually it drove her nuts, properly insane. People stopped going anywhere near the place. She could be heard screaming and wailing at all hours of the day, and would be seen beating herself with stones. The madness made Mary blame herself for her daughter’s death. Then the townsfolk’s children started going missing, but only the girls. It didn’t take long for the blame to land on Mary. The mob went out to her home, not to challenge her with their accusations, but to exact their revenge. They had already decided she was guilty.
Another girl disappeared after Mary was dead. She was spotted being carried away in the arms of a man headed for the lake. He was a labourer who’d moved into the area a few months earlier, and he admitted responsibility for all the disappearances. Mary’s daughter was his first victim.
And that’s what makes for a restless spirit. She waits for any opportunity to take her revenge on this town for what they did to her. It’s said that she can be summoned by chanting in the mirror…
You have to say Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, who killed your daughter Bloody Mary? They say she doesn’t just appear, though. They say she tries to smash her way through.'

Skinned Tom

This one is awesome.

'Every town has a lover's lane, one of those places where guys and chicks drive to and then sit there with soppy-ass music playing while they get it on, wasting their time. There's one town, though, where you should totally avoid the lover's lane, and I'll tell you why. Tom took this married chick there every friday night, been doing it for months. This one night they were there, kissing and whatever, when the car door was pulled open, and the chick's husband was right there and he had a knife and he was properly angry! He stabbed his wife, then dragged Tom out of the car, and said to Tom 'I told you before, didn't I? I told you if I caught you again I'd skin you alive!'
The married chick didn't die, and while she was in hospital she told the police what had gone down. As it turns out, the husband handed himself over to the police, owning up to his crimes. But Tom wasn't found. They searched and searched, but the only thing they found was a few splashes of blood near the car.
People started going missing after that. Couples would go up to lover's lane and never return. Their car would be found abandoned, and covered in bloody hand-prints. There's only ever been one survivor of these attacks, and she wound up in the loony bin, but before she got locked up she told a doctor what she saw. It was a bloody skeleton, and it was holding a knife, and it told her it needed her skin because it didn't have any of it's own.
Nobody goes up there anymore.'

Massive thanks to my man Jack for all the entertainment. We might have to invite him back again before the big night itself, Halloween...
If you liked Jack's tall tales, you might just get a kick out of the horror story he finds himself a part of. Macadamian Pliers

myBook.to/AGraveyardVisible

Laters.