The other day, I happened to see that my social media friend and super talented horror author Brian Keene is a contributor to a book of essays called Why I Love Horror, coming in September of this year. The book is described as “A love letter to the horror genre from many of the most influential and bestselling authors in the industry.” This got me thinking that it would be fun to share my own tale of why I love horror! I’ve actually shared this story in brief ages ago, at the very start of my blog, so I thought it would be fun to return to it with a little more detail.
In pre-teen years, I was the most sensitive child you can imagine. I had extremely sensitive hearing and would even jump at the popping of a balloon. When it came to scares, I was afraid of anything that risked being remotely scary. One example is that I refused to go into Disney World’s Haunted Mansion when we visited the park when I was a kid; another example that always sticks in my head is that I found movies such as the 1963 The Day of the Triffids too scary to watch. (It is a pretty decent movie, but not one that I would call particularly scary these days.) Basically, anything intense in any way, shape or form was too much for me, in general, and horror was completely out. I avoided roller coasters until my later teens for pretty much the same reason.
Then there was one day — I was about 14 years old, and I know this for reasons I will mention shortly — that I decided to watch an episode of Tales from the Darkside. For those unfamiliar, it was a horror anthology show that ran from a pilot in 1983 to a final season in 1988, culminating in a 1990 movie, Tales from the Darkside: The Movie. The intro to Tales from the Darkside is still a bit creepy to me today, even with its rather primitive special effects.







