“Why do you write all that horror stuff?”.

I’ve gotten this question thrust upon me from family, friends, and acquaintances for as long as I can remember. The underlying implication is that there must be something wrong with me, that I must be a latent psychopath or something even more nefarious, in order to choose expressing myself through such dark material. After all, I was that weird kid, right?

In my mind, my strangeness as a child notwithstanding, nothing could be further from the truth.

Other authors write gritty mysteries, crime novels, and stories about hardboiled detectives, conniving criminals, demented killers, rapists, and of course, seductive femme fatales. It does not mean they themselves have any underlying wish to murder, steal, or cheat for the insurance money. When screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan wrote the script for BODY HEAT, I doubt if we was thinking about killing anyone as part of an insurance fraud.

An actor may play a rapist, a pedophile, or a serial killer. That does not mean that actor is inclined himself towards any of these depraved and heinous acts in real life.

All it means is these artists have done their research, have gotten their own thoughts together, decided on an approach to their subject matter, and then applied their own creative abilities to their art.

Writing is my art. My channel happens to be horror, or something in a similar vein. I have written screenplays in the thriller and film noir genres (as yet unproduced). I’ve even written an action thriller (also as yet unproduced). But sooner or later after taking a literary exit off the highway for a quick pit stop, I always come back to the fast lane of horror.

Growing up in rural Texas in the 1960’s and 70’s, watching on a 12-inch black and white TV in my room, old movies were my main source of entertainment when I was not doing homework or out playing with childhood friends. I grew up watching the old Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney movies of the 30’s and 40’s.  A TV station out of Dallas, WFAA-TV, played a movie every day from 3:30 to 5:00pm during the week. Fridays was horror or sci-fi day. So I would dash home from school on my bicycle, unlock the door, rush into my room and dive for the TV while simultaneously tossing my schoolbooks onto my bed. What a way to end the week! These classics never failed to entertain me, even after I had seen them a dozen times. When you’re a kid, repetition is a good thing.

By the time I was maybe 10 or 11, the old Hammer films with stars like Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, made their way to American television, though relegated to the Late Late Show. They usually came on at 11:00 or 11:30pm on a Friday or Saturday night. My biggest problem was staying awake.

My older brother, who had been blessed with more sophisticated tastes than I (a situation that perpetuates until this day, I might add), did me a solid by turning me on to the “Big Bug” science fiction movies of the 50’s — movies like THEM, TARANTULA, THE BEAST FROM 20,000 FATHOMS, GODZILLA (the 1956 American one with Raymond Burr). Notice these movies, while technically science fiction, all have strong horror elements infused into their stories. This blend of sci-fi with horror elements continues to this day with movies like ALIEN, PREDATOR, and all their sequels and imitations.

This was the content that shaped my young mind. With the suspense, the buildup, the spooky mansions and creepy music, my heart raced as the hero or heroine (who always seemed to wear a gossamer, low-cut gown!) was always just two steps away from the lurking monster, or just one door opening away from certain death at the hands of some frightful fiend. That emotional roller coaster I felt as a kid is something I continued to crave as an adolescent, and on into adulthood. I’m still looking to replicate now as a middle-aged man. And I want to create that same emotional response in my audience.

Notice I said, emotional response. Because horror is more than just a genre; it is emotion at its most primal.

Good horror cannot be constrained by the normal limitations of genre. When executed well, horror transcends, breaks through boundaries, crashes through walls, and communicates profound thoughts, philosophies, or ruminations on life, death, loss, and love. It grips us by the throat. It makes our breath catch. It delves into the psychology of universal human fears. And it examines the darkest impulses we humans have, especially the ones we don’t want to admit (to ourselves or to others) we have. And while such examination may be cause for some to cringe, it is essential to accepting who we are as human beings, warts and all. Hey, someone has to do it.

And that is why I write horror.