Halloween Haunts: “Was I Supposed to be Scared?”
By J.B. Corso
This is the worst question a horror reader can ask themselves. If you or your reader asked this, at least one of two things is likely true. The narrative failed to connect because:
- it lacked the necessary emotional charge to be scary, and/ or
- the storyline, horror, and/ or theme was too familiar
So, what might’ve gone wrong? Here are 6 challenges a horror story faces and what can be done to correct them. Let’s go!
- Over-saturated Market (Problem #2)
Humans have evolved over the millennia to crave new stimulation and fresh experiences. This is why hearing “Happy Birthday” on repeat for hours at a time will break even the strongest mind. Once the market fills with various renditions of a worn-through interest, people become bored and look for the next shiny idea.
Not so long ago, zombies/ walkers/ undead were all the rage in pop culture. You couldn’t live for ten minutes without someone adding to the zeitgeist. Getting in at the beginning of the public interest curve offered authors a lot of room to write about and explore the genre, but after becoming over-saturated, people stopped caring. I call this market-numbing.
Following a trend is easy, but is usually only successful if the author does something really, really creative. While we all think our ideas are the greatest, reality says that most won’t gain special recognition. Fads come and go, as do readers’ tastes. Adding the same chicken-literature broth into a large soup pot isn’t as interesting as introducing a warm story souffle.
The good news. That epic, Pulitzer-Prize-worthy zombie prose will find its proper home after readers want it as much as a walking corpse wants to feast on your brains.
Is your current project for publication hitched to the latest fictional fad? Fix: Focus on writing stories outside the saturated market, hopefully along the curve of the next big interest. Creating a fresh path is better than being just another raindrop splashing in a lake.
- Antagonist Isn’t Developed and/ or Isn’t Threatening (Problem #1)
A vampire is only scary if it has the potential to cause harm. Compare Edward from Twilight to the vampires of Before Dawn. One is an over-aged high school student with sparkle skin. The others are ruthless apex predators. Even referencing a threat is something readers can latch onto. The shark in Jaws isn’t seen until 1 hour and 21 minutes (out of a 2 hour and 10 min runtime!), but its presence is known throughout the movie before being visually introduced. We don’t get a good reveal of the xenomorph in Alien until deep into its story. Smart horror relishes the idea of less being more until more becomes important.
Some authors let the reader’s imaginations do the heavy lifting on their own. Social views aside, HP Lovecraft built the basis of his stories on the threat’s “indescribable” nature. His characters would become insane from being in the presence of entities beyond our understanding. While some gods and monsters were formally established, others are clouded in descriptive ambiguity.
But alas, the worst sin a villain can commit is being a wuss. Imagine Darth Vader being taken out with a casual lightsaber strike or Jason Voorhees knocked out with a simple punch to the head. If the opponent isn’t a worthwhile adversary, there’s little reason to have cared, with most readers becoming disappointed at the confrontation.
This type of anticlimax happened in real life during World Heavyweight Champ Mike Tyson’s prime. Promoters invested huge time and money into upcoming fights, only for Iron Mike to get a knockout in minutes or a few rounds. This left many viewers unsatisfied. Much like boxing enthusiasts, readers want to see the back-and-forth of two heavyweights in your story.
Are you giving away your big-baddy too soon and/ or have they earned the confrontation? Fix: Take time to draw out the villain. Make your antagonist a worthy opponent. Layer their backstory or develop them into more than generic agents of evil.
- Setting Doesn’t Support the Story (Problem #1)
Suitable settings need to support the plot, conflict, characters, and significant milestones. The plot of Casablanca set in 1970 white-picket fence America wouldn’t carry as much dramatic weight as its wartime locale. Too often, new horror writers play their stories safe. Graveyards. Mausoleums. Abandoned asylums. Typical locations providing heavy lifting for reader unease. Imagine a disturbing story set at an outdoor wedding or a baby shower. These happy settings create more emotional distress because the tension invades the reader’s expectation of a joyous event.
The good news is that when done correctly, the more serene the setting, the deeper your horror can play out for a greater surprise. Everyone expects an axe-wielding murderer to arrive out of the abandoned mansion’s basement. We don’t expect a deranged maniac at Tina’s wedding shower with Nana dozing in a corner chair.
Isolating settings usually offer advantages, with the protagonist having little to no option for escape. Alien, The Thing, and The Shining are all masterful works trapping their characters in place. A spaceship, an isolated science station, and a secluded hotel are all terrifying places to face a relentless threat. Imagine how well a basic horror story set in an open field would change by switching its location to a remote asteroid or a Mount Everest research lab.
Are you doing anything noteworthy with your setting to support the overall plot?
Fix: Bring out your story’s best potential by thinking through alternative setting options. Make the location interesting and a character of its own.
4. Cliché, Cliché, Cliché (Problem #2)
The worst sin any artist can fall into is to be boring. In horror, we see this with predictable, worn-out, and tired clichés. Why don’t clichés work? As discussed, readers crave surprise and invention. Cliches offer neither. So what makes a cliché? A cliché is anything that’s unoriginal and uninteresting beyond what is needed to define something. Lots of words there. Let’s break this down.
Vampires have common rules that authors (and readers) have agreed to over the years. Hate sunlight, check. Live for millennia, check. Fangs, check. So how are these not cliche?
They’re what makes a vampire, well, a vampire. The cliché would be for the vampire to be obsessed with a young woman whom he wants to turn into his bride so their eternal love can grow together, usually at odds with another male fighting to protect her. Sound like movies we’ve all seen? There’s little to be surprised about. Breaking the cliché might look like this:
A female vampire desires to heal a priest battling cancer by turning him into one of her kind. His commitment to a deep faith hampers her goal. Readers will be interested in knowing if/ how she overcomes such obstacles.
One of the most overused and fry-lamp heated cliches is that of the (usually male) protagonist who doesn’t remember who they are, aka amnesia. Think The Borne Identity, Amnesiac, Dark City, etc. It’s been done so many times and in so many ways that there are few original situations left to explore. Does it mean that this kind of story is automatically bad? Of course not, but any time a reader thinks, “oh, this again,” the narrative is fighting uphill for redemption.
What can you offer readers for them to have their surprise reaction of “wait, what?” Fix: Consider an interesting take on clichés and turn them on their heads. Think vampires who attend church or savor garlic chicken meals.
- No Tension (Problem #1)
Tension is the driving engine of entertaining stories. Literally, any worthwhile story. So many authors fail to drag suspense out and just write people doing stuff. Avoid spending any paper real estate on drab life events. People doing stuff is called life, and it’s literally what readers want to escape out of into your story. Alfred Hitchcock famously said, “Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.” Can good plots have some bland moments? Sure. But the boring parts need to accentuate the character or the story’s movement forward. They should be fleeting between more involved scenes. Increased tension creates more reader attention. One of the best ideas for writing great suspense is, “being a sadist” to your protagonist. Make your characters jump through hoops on fire, forcing them to become better people.
The greatest advantage of effective tension is its ability to be internal (inner conflict), external (outer conflict), and/ or both. Let’s compare two ideas:
A disabled ghost-hunter of color searches for reported apparitions inside and around abandoned plantations circa 1952 Georgia. She faces pushback from locals, racist police, her own physical challenges, and her White husband’s family. Compare that plot to Mary Sue, who gets easy access to a haunted farmhouse, makes apparition contact, learns of its plight, and removes its spiritual shackles with no significant challenge.
Remarkable dilemmas are the backbones of memorable plots. Think Frodo Baggins, Luke Skywalker, etc. Disposable obstacles and predictable choices make great Hallmark movies, not nightmare-inducing horror.
Does your plot have worthwhile and/ or formidable conflict for readers to care about, or does it go through the motions into a hollow conclusion? Fix: Find creative ways in which your hero struggles, internally and externally. Make their journey interesting by adding unforeseen challenges.
- Boring Main Character (Problem #1)
There’s nothing worse than engaging with someone who’s not interesting, boring, dull, what have you. Take a moment to think about spending hours reading about this one-dimensional person. No personal arc. No deep lessons were learned. Everything comes easily and with minor struggles. Now imagine them in a horror story. Let’s share a secret truth. How many times have we followed this character and begun cheering for the horror to win?
Make your story’s centerpiece interesting at the very least. Something unique about their backstory or internal conflict that defines them. The savior who kills the evil dragon with one sword thrust isn’t as exciting as the hero who got their butt kicked five times and had to learn new skills for the final victory. Anyone who plays horror video games can attest to this. Fighting through slogs of enemies only to reach a three-hit big boss is anticlimactic and is hardly noteworthy.
The reader (usually leading a routine, mundane life) is engaged in a story to live through someone who develops through struggle. Imagine The Hobbit written from cover-to-cover about the daily lives of those peaceful creatures stretched over a thousand years. “Frodo washed his vegetables today because it was Friday” makes for a boring book, probably best suited as a sleep aid.
Your protagonist should be flawed and needs the story to build up their weaknesses and cement their strengths. Someone who needs their tree shaken so they can come out the other side ready to face whatever obstacle is ahead. Lightning McQueen from Cars is a prime example. His ego deflates through a misadventure, and in the process he learns the values of loyalty and humility. The small-town struggle sets him up for a heartfelt success during the climactic race. Most people love an underdog story because the outmatched protagonist is forced to overcome so much to hold victory high. The best stories live this truth.
Does my character represent and/ or do anything that’ll grab my readers’ attention by the neck? Fix: Give your audience adequate reasons to want to care about your protagonist. An interesting hero makes all the difference between a tepid narrative and an epic journey.
Writing a story outside of a saturated market about an interesting main character facing a well-developed threat in a unique setting with minimal cliches and adding a butt-load of tension sets you up for developing worthwhile horror. These become stories to take pride in putting your name on, which your readers will come back for.
JB Corso is a mental health clinician who works with vulnerable populations. Their writing motto is “Developing stories into masterpieces.” They are a member of the Chicago Writer’s Guild, Grayslake Arts Alliance (Education Committee), and Horror Writer’s Association. Their work has been published with Sirens Call Publications, Wicked Shadow Press, Black Hare Press, The Dragon’s Roost, Collective Tales Publishing, CultureCult Press, and The Stygian Lepus.