I recently started thinking about the structure of horror stories in a new way: relating them to the behavior of natural disasters. Some stories are unpredictable, with sudden bursts of terror, like lightning strikes or tornadoes. Others build up a sense of dread gradually, like a coming thunderstorm, or a hurricane. Much more rare are stories that grind away at the reader bit by bit, like the inexorable erosion of a coastline.
I was inspired of this natural disaster framing of horror when I read a recent reprint by Valancourt Books, Joan Samson’s The Auctioneer (1975).
This brilliantly tense novel is of the third type I mentioned: it applies unending, and increasing, pressure from very much the first page until the last. I don’t know that I’ve been as uncomfortable reading a novel in a long time, and I mean that in a good way.














