Horror/Scary: March 11, 2009 Issue [#2927] |
Horror/Scary
This week: Edited by: W.D.Wilcox More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
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How To Write A Horror Story
How does a horror story get started?
Is it all about the ‘blood and gore’ with no flesh?
How do I write something interesting and still make it scary?
What is scary?
These are just some of the questions new horror writers ask themselves, yet ones I never really think about.
I just write.
I write about something that scares me; something that’s not too farfetched that most people can relate to.
I write about people; people who are so afraid of something that it literally fills them with an indescribable terror.
I write about people gripped in the talons of a horror so menacing they cannot move to save themselves or scream for help.
I write about how that character changes; how their courage and strength grows just enough for them to overcome the worst of nightmares—the ultimate evil—and yet, live to tell the tale.
I write about a little blond-haired girl who sits on the beach like a forgotten shell. And how her blue eyes have darkened like the sea when a cloud passes over. She is solemn and slack-faced as if she has just been told someone she loves dearly has just died.
I approach her as she sits with a collection of seashells all around her, and watch as each shell in turn is delicately held to her ear.
She selects a big one and holds it out to me.
Smiling, I take the conch shell and turn it over it in my hand. The rough exterior is brown and white, the polished interior shines pearly pink.
She looks up at me with those blue eyes and cups her right hand to her ear, thus indicating that she wants me to listen to the shell.
When I put it to my ear, I do not hear the sea.
Instead, from the shell comes the rough breathing of some beast; a fiendish creature that gasps in an urgent rhythm of a cruel need, and grunts for air with a terrifying desire.
Even with the heat of summer beating down upon me, winter suddenly finds my blood.
When she sees from my expression that I have heard what she wished me to hear, she looks back out to sea with that same solemn blue-eyed gaze.
Evil is coming, and I sit down beside her and wait.
Until next time,
billwilcox
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Read 'Em And Reap
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They Return...
Nomar Knight
Submitted Comment:
Wow! Bill, you outdid yourself again with another exciting example of pure action-packed horror writing. You got our attention and kept us intrigued until the very satisfying end. As always, well done!
Your newsletters rocks!
Jaye P. Marshall
Submitted Comment:
What a terrific introduction/editorial you wrote for this newsletter!
You really had me going there!
Great job!
Adriana Noir
Submitted Comment:
Excellent newsletter!
I'm such a huge fan of your pen!
Muses are great fodder for horror stories. The very bane of every writer's exsistence, it's easy to see them in a sinister light.
Acme
Submitted Comment:
I'm so glad you found your muse; they end up in the most frightful places, don't they?
Thanks too for highlighting one of my writes!
darkin
Submitted Comment:
OMG!
That was a great newsletter. You did a fantastic job with your descriptions, I could feel the dirt and the cold, dank air!
Well done,
Squirrelly
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