Why Horror?

If you're already a horror fan, this isn't much of a question. You know, you understand. It's an unspoken common ground we all share. But I hear this often from people who don't like horror, who don't understand the compulsion to read, see or experience scary things. "Why would you want to be scared?"

There's more to this question than one might assume at face value. For one thing, there are different levels and variations on fear. There are jump scares, and then there is lingering dread. There is discomfort and anxiety. There is a visceral recoil. They all have their own reason for existing, and different reasons why people might seek them out. 

It's easiest to discuss the type of scare that makes us jump, gasp or scream. It's adrenaline. It's roller coasters and sky diving. It's getting on a stage to sing or tell jokes or act. The thrill of being alive in the face of the fear of failure. "I did this and I survived." That isn't difficult to comprehend.

What about the rest? Why do some of us want to be haunted? Often it's a way to process things we're already scared of, already worried about. If we can stare it down, look at it without blinking, examine the details and feelings and come out the other side, we feel we can survive it. I am terrified of spiders, for example. But I will stare at a spider, I will look at spider photos online, I will read about them and learn about them in an effort to master my fear. I am afraid, and so I am obsessed. 

Body horror has a similar motivation. We are mortal beings of flesh and blood, and the idea of that being mutilated or morphed into something alien, something unnatural, causes a physical and mental recoil. But many of us will encounter bodily fears over our life: chronic illnesses, injuries, surgeries, failing organs. The feeling of a part of your body rebelling against you, or even trying to harm you, is a unique experience. I myself have a chronic auto-immune disease and it's a challenge to reconcile the idea that my immune system wants to destroy essential parts of my body out of a genetic misunderstanding. It feels like I am at war with it. In my mind, I think about my body as a separate being that hates me and wants me to suffer. It makes sense to see that reflected in horror, and helps to process that feeling. 

Lingering dread is perhaps the most uniquely human experience. We know we are mortal creatures who will die someday. Either by age, disease, accident, purpose, or disaster. When I was a child I would think about death, wonder what it was like. I tried to imagine what "nothing" felt like. It was terrifying. But I kept doing it over and over again. What drove me? The unknown. The worse option. If I knew what was in store, I could feel resolution. Not knowing was worse. This is why in horror, not understanding the source of terror is always worse. If you don't know where the monster came from, why the serial killer was killing, what was causing the haunting, it was so much scarier. Because, you wonder, what if there is no reason? Then the world is chaos, then we can't know what's going to happen, and we will be alone and afraid when we die no matter what the cause or reason. 

Personally, horror is also a way to process the nightmare of my own mind. Ever since I was very young, I had nightmares. Countless nightmares. Some of them I still remember now, after 30 years. There were particular types that I had so often and were so distinct that I had to name them. Apocalypse dreams and dream loops. In the former, I always saw the world end. In the latter, I kept thinking I woke up only to find myself in a new nightmare, still sleeping. I learned how to lucid dream while very young, because I couldn't handle the recurring nightmares I had and needed a solution. I had to learn techniques for escaping dreams in case they became too scary. Then I started having sleep paralysis, and it felt like my entire body was betraying me and thwarting my efforts to escape fear. Even when I was technically awake, I was still living the nightmare and couldn't escape. I had to wait it out until my brain released my body and I stopped seeing and hearing things that weren't really there.

People-- even family-- say this is because of the scary books I read, the scary movies I watch. But the sad truth is that my nightmares sparked my interest in horror, not the other way around. Horror made me feel understood. It made me feel like I had control of an otherwise uncontrollable situation. It gave me the escape I craved.

I'm not weird because I like horror. And I don't like horror because I like being scared. I like horror because I am weird and scared and I long to find a place where I can belong and control my fear.

Horror is the way to process this. We can face our fears, face the chaos, and yet come out alive and well at the end of the story. Because it was just a story... wasn't it? 

Sick Day, Bloody Sick Day

Last week I had the pleasure of my second summer cold of the season, and while lying around coughing uncontrollably I thought about good sick day movies.

For me, a good sick day film has to be relatively low on gore and surrealism. Even mild fevers mess with my head, I don’t need the film to add to it. So I tend towards older films that are creepy or fun in a spooky way. Even better if it’s something I’ve seen a billion times, so I won’t miss out if I drift in and out while sitting on what I have dubbed the Couch of Doom, due to its seemingly mystical ability to cause sleepiness even when one is perfectly healthy and alert.

So as my immune system waged a war so forceful that I hoped my respiratory system would remain in tact, I came up with three solid pre-1970’s films starring horror icons to help me pass the time.

Welcome to the Hellmouth: The 20th Anniversary of Buffy

Exactly 20 years ago, I was 14 years old and halfway through my freshman year of high school. It wasn’t a great time for me. Junior high had been pretty terrible, and I didn’t recognize at the time that much of it had to do with my first severe bout of depression. I also had a lot of social anxiety and difficulty figuring out how to behave around others, which came off to others as being overly sensitive, shy, awkward, cold, and sometimes, a jerk. That isn’t to say I didn’t have friends, but I felt very lonely most of the time. My home life was filled with a lot of movies, music, video games, and of course, television.

My Summer Getting Adults to Read Comics in the Library

Last year when I heard about the Will Eisner Graphic Novel Grant for Libraries, I decided I wanted to apply and try to do something more with my library's graphic novel collection. The trouble was, I didn't have any pet projects in the pipeline, no great idea that was only waiting for funding.

The truth is, the community I work in doesn't have a strong natural comics readership. Our graphic novels go out enough to warrant having them, but they don't fly off the shelves. I knew I wanted to give the collection a signal boost, not only to give it more press, but because I believe in the literary value of the format and I hate when it gets the shaft. As both a highly visual and linguistic adult, I consider both types of literacy to be precious, especially at a time when we are relying so much on digital interfaces to accomplish tasks.

Luckily there's an embarrassment of riches in the world of adult comics. That's something I wanted to share with the people in my community, both for their own edification and awareness, and to help connect them with other family members or friends who might be comics fans. And maybe, just maybe, I might convert a few of them into fans themselves.

Summer of Fear: Stage Fright

Something of that Ilk

One fear that I think almost every single human being has in common is that of stage fright. Even experienced performers and speakers regularly admit to feeling anxiety before they do whatever it is they do in front of an audience: sing, dance, speak, tell jokes... juggle man-eating poodles while riding a unicycle? Not sure about that last one.

Being usually human, I too suffer from this condition. I'm neither a novice who craves the anonymity of the audience, nor an experienced pro. I'm somewhere in the no-man's land between. I've danced a little, I've done music, I teach classes at the library I work at, and I've even experienced the enviable opportunity to be an zombie extra on a small local stage for a musical "Night of the Living Dead." (Thanks Ali!)

Summer of Fear: Spiders

Let’s start with something easy and funny to talk about. Something universal. Arachnophobia is a very common fear, and I've suffered from it for as long as I can remember. Spiders are everywhere, both in real life and the media we consume. And they are horrid. I don’t even understand our need to create imaginary monsters, because we have them: nature gave them to us, free of charge.

The Summer of Fear

Numbers. Let’s talk numbers from the past year. I’m getting bad vibes from the number two. I’ve been through: two cars, two human deaths, two back injuries. On my second car, I’ve been through two semi-expensive repairs. What does it all mean? It means after also having to put my 18 year old cat to sleep last month, I feel like I’ve got another death hanging over my head, just waiting to happen.

So going through all of that is, oddly, not conducive to writing. You’re supposed to use emotional things like this to fuel your art, right?

Something Really Scary

Forget zombie apocalypses, haunted houses and slashers. You know what's really scary? Car salesmen.

Life got derailed again thanks to some serious problems with my mode of transportation. But I've got something newer now, and fingers crossed, I'm hoping it will last me longer than the previous car.

 But goddamn if car buying isn't one of the most awful experiences in one's life. Maybe not if you have a lot of money, time, and patience for bullshit. I sure didn't, and usually don't.

 On the other hand, I'm feeling inspired towards some car-related horror to help purge my system.

 In other news, Happy October! It's the one time of year where everybody else catches up and makes my weirdness a little less weird. I kind of adore Fall weather too, even though it's felt more like June than October lately. But I sense more hoodie-weather approaching.

 I'll finally be getting back to some new content this week, so here's to pumpkin-flavored everything, making the world more spooky and getting life back on track.

A Little Too Close to Home

from http://k12onlineconference.org

I'd like to have a bit of a "fireside chat" moment, if I may.

Not that the image above is what most of us think about when I use that phrase, but it's an incredibly soothing image to me right now so I'm going with it. For all my creepiness, at heart I'm a simple person, comforted by simple things.