  Horror/Scary
This week: Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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Well, it’s almost Halloween and things have already started to get pretty weird around here. Ghosts and spirits—a dang nuisance if you ask me: coming and going as they please, whispering in my ear, typing on my keyboard. The worst of it comes at night when they bang on the walls and bounce around on my bed.
I believe that one is definitely a female for she is very possessive of my attention, even to the extent of tormenting my wife whenever we lie together. There have been several horrifying episodes of hair pulling and scratching in the wee hours of the night. My wife, normally an opened-minded person, has finally reached her limit and now sleeps in another room, which has put a strain upon our marriage.
Last night, as I slept, I felt her return to our bed and snuggle against me. I rolled onto my back and let her lay her head upon my shoulder. I slept better than I had in weeks.
The following morning my wife noisily awoke me as she entered the room to dress for the day. “Still in bed?” she asked.
I felt someone still lying next to me, but no one was there. I jumped from the bed in one fluid motion.
“What’s wrong with you?” my wife asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Where did you sleep last night?” I asked.
“In the spare bedroom, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because there was someone in bed with me last night, that’s why.”
My wife and I have agreed to call for a priest to see what can be done, but I honestly think that these creatures are inventions of my sick mind and that somehow I have breathed life into them from stories I have written. Tonight I will test my theory and sleep on the sofa; perhaps my enamored specter will deem that an unsuitable place to retire for the evening and leave me in peace. I do so need to get this Horror/Scary Newsletter finished before Monday rolls around.
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Product Type: Kindle Store
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Amazon's Price: $ 9.99
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THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
High in the house, something thumped loudly. Rattled. Then subsided into silence.
Perhaps a broken tree branch had dropped onto the roof. A loose chimney stone, sluiced from its mortar bed by the rain, might have rolled along the shingles.
Or some unimaginable strange visitor had entered by the attic, and now explored the space under those cobwebbed rafters, searching for the trapdoor and spring-loaded ladder that would give it access to the second floor.
 A story must be anchored solidly in a believable setting. Modern readers expect the horror story to take place in familiar surroundings that provide a mating ground for the natural and the supernatural. Today's readers have internalized this expectation: a context of normality, a true-to-life backdrop that accentuates the grotesque.
The use of the fantastic does not excuse the horror author from the task of conjuring up a vivid, everyday reality on the page. On the contrary, it increases the importance of that task.
The action has to keep up. Once it lets down, you’ve lost your reader. The tone must be very fast-paced. If it slows down it's too boring and feels drawn out.
Description should be only enough so that the reader can get a picture, but not so much that there's nothing left for the imagination.
 "I don't believe there can be any bad taste in creating a scene, only bad writing in handling it.”—Robert R. McCammond
"Suspense in fiction results primarily from the reader's identification with and concern about lead characters who are complex, convincing, and appealing."—Dean Koontz
"You have got to love the people ... that allows horror to be possible."—Stephen King
"Never state an horror when it can be suggested."—H.P. Lovecraft
And I’d like to add: “A good ending is one you didn't expect.”—W.D.Wilcox
Until next time, Happy Halloween ,
billwilcox
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Some Scary Picks For Halloween Reading
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#542528 by Not Available. |
He wiped one side of his nose with a gnarled forefinger, gathering up the eruption of blackheads and pimples into a single wad the size of a pea, then lifted his finger toward his shriveled mouth.
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#1021548 by Not Available. |
Slowly before my eyes, his form solidified, a fine misty shape at first, but then he was standing there with me, looking just the way I remembered him. Beautiful. I gasped in surprise as grey wings unfurled from behind him ever so slightly, but I knew then and there, what he was.
|  | Amy (XGC)
The desires of a man with too much imagination can't be fulfilled - or can they?
#1018859 by Robert Waltz  |
“In the future,” she went on, “you will publish. And you will change the world with your writing. Not for the better, though, unfortunately.” I waited. She continued. “At least, that’s one future. It’s what I’m here to stop.” [Warning:Be aware of the rating on this item.]
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#1017672 by Not Available. |
“Oh look, the little pansy’s crying like the queenie he is! Hey Nancy boy, how does this feel?”
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#1011725 by Not Available. |
The closest man charged her, and she cut him down with little effort and leapt into the crowd of those about to be no longer. She felt the pleasure of hot blood spilling along her body, and she tore her shirt away to revel in it. Others fell and she found her self bathing her face with their blood, tasting it and feeling a passion for more. She was a death maiden, a sword mistress, and as made for battle as this sword, and she began to feel a dark sensual pleasure in the causing of death.
His mouth splits into a grin, revealing his own set of sharp, pointy teeth. Blood flecks the bottom ones where, perhaps, he’s bitten his tongue. My body is strangely calm, though I’m shouting at myself to move, stand up, get out of there. Instead, I only return my gaze to Bill. My ears ring; suddenly, I know what he’s done. I want to scream at him, to punch those teeth back into his throat, ruin his lips on their sharp edges. I don’t do a thing. I can’t.
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#894790 by Not Available. |
The politically correct term for them is misplaced souls. Most folks call them strays. They usually cry, shout, or call for people they once knew. Folks who lived the happiest lives seem to take it the hardest, although they’re all loud the first few weeks. With time they quiet down. After a while they give up and just walk and mumble to themselves, alone, forever.
“I woke you up because you appeared to be having a dream no one would care to continue.” The woman focused on the bright lights--the intense pain. She moaned softly as she turned her head to one side. “Don’t try to talk, Captain. Rest now. I was able to awaken you. You have been dead for three days.”
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#1019379 by Not Available. |
Now here’s an original contest idea that bears looking into you.
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Frightful Feedback
star.r comments:
An excellent editorial on what scares us, W.D.! I really enjoyed reading it. I thought you hit the nail right on the head.
Starr*
Thanks, Starr. Coming from you that’s quite a compliment.
Ananda08  says:
Great newsletter! Have you ever read Stephen King's book Danse Macabre? The style of this newsletter really reminded me of it.
Unfortunately, I’ve never read it. But I’ll have to remedy that situation. 
schipperke points out:
Hello Bill!
Scarily delicious newsletter as usual!I think you pointed out the heart of a horror story; it is meant to scare you. And your examples of common place events that could scare someone are spot on.
Math scares me. Any stories about that?
 Yes, Math scares me too. I guess it has to do with the unknown. I’ll consider writing a horrific tale of algebra. I think I’ll call it, “Pop Quiz” .
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| ASIN: B083RZJVJ8 |
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Horror/Scary: October 19, 2005 Issue [#664]
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