Why We Need (Better) Horror Fiction

Horror fiction gets a bad rap. So much so, that I usually only admit to writing thrillers. Maybe I’m a chicken, maybe I don’t want to get tarred with the same brush as other horror authors, but maybe it’s for a good reason.

I don’t want to harp on horror writers. Well, I do, but not publically. One day, when I get them into a corner… For the nonce, let’s just say that the horror stigma is something most authors don’t want attached to their books. It’s weird, because horror abounds in film and television, successfully and popularly. Horror fiction, on the other hand, is neither successful nor popular.

Why should this be so?

Mainly, from my own avid reading, it comes from novels labeled horror that are just plain not good. This saddens me, mostly because I want to read a good horror book. But also because someone in the publishing field has dictated that mid-list horror books must be written poorly. I’m assuming here.

There is a reason Stephen King is a household name. It’s not because he writes good horror books. It’s because he writes really good books, with memorable characters, with solid plots, with a great deal of craftsmanship, and usually with pretty good endings. Scares are a happy bonus in Stephen King novels.

Arguably, there may be another horror scribe or two that is well known. The question is, why aren’t there many? Another question is, why did publishers stop selling horror novels? I say stop, meaning, you can’t find that genre shelf at the bookstore. Perhaps, during the horror boom of the ‘80s and ‘90s, the term horror novel became synonymous with “bad novel,” and the field has yet to recover. Back then, a lot of the horror was pretty shoddy, but you could find a gem here and there if you looked. These days, at least from the larger publishers, horror fic seems to either lack actual horror, or misses the mark when it comes to being a half-decent novel.

But enough whining about the current state of horror. What I want is to incite writers to rebuild the genre in a positive way. There is truly a need for good horror fiction.

Need? you ask. Well, yes, and here’s why.

In popular fiction, there is a lot to learn for the layman. Legal thrillers give you some indication how the law works—not what you and I and other non-lawyers think, where things are fair or unfair and righteous or not—but how it actually works. Police procedurals give non-cop types insight into how law enforcement is performed. Mysteries make you work to sort out what is real from what is apparent, like a puzzle. Romance tells women how love and passion should work, and confuses the hell out of men. I’m generalizing. Westerns and fantasy show us a violent world before indoor plumbing. Science fiction extrapolates current trends and technology to predict the future. I’m still waiting for decent robots and my own personal flying vehicle, but Big Brother is definitely watching.

What need do we have, then, of good horror fiction?

Let me relate a story that all of you have probably heard or perhaps even experienced before. A woman who is close to me, but shall otherwise remain anonymous, used to expound on positivity and happiness and eschew negative, dark things. She, let’s call her Betty, admitted that she found an attraction to darker entertainments something of a mental aberration, i.e., horror fans are unbalanced individuals. Horror writers? We won’t even go there.

There came a time when Betty became plagued by a co-worker, we’ll call her Jill. I heard only a few stories, about the way Jill spread weird rumors around the office, the way she would show a different face to other workers, to the boss, the way she had emotional breakdowns for no reason while sitting in her cubicle. I knew what was coming, and I said as much. Jill was bad news. Betty needed to stay as far away from Jill as possible. Jill was evil.

I was ignored. Jill wasn’t evil! She just needed help, maybe counseling. Perhaps something in her personal life made her so strange. All Jill needed was a little understanding, some compassion.

One day, Jill showed up to work, face bloody and covered with bruises, hair a wreck, clothing torn. She then attacked Betty in the office, screaming her head off. After a brief scuffle, the police were called. Both women were taken away in handcuffs.

Now, Betty’s co-workers had seen Jill show up in a battered state before the scuffle. But apparently, Jill’s weird rumors included a fear that Betty hated Jill, and one day would do her harm. The office workers told both sides to the police. I wasn’t there, but I’m sure some leaned Betty’s way, some Jill’s. Because that seed of doubt had already been planted.

Legal proceedings ensued, of course. No one went to jail. Betty, however, remains affected by the incident to this day.

What does this have to do with writing good horror fiction? you ask.

Much as legal thrillers acquaint us with the law, or mysteries inform us that all is not as it seems, horror fiction introduces us to evil. Sometimes, allegorical evil, like monsters or demons; sometimes murderous sociopaths; and sometimes with ordinary-seeming people who simply enjoy dispensing injury and misery.

While horror stories frequently have unhappy endings, sometimes dealing with evil leads to unhappiness. Just ask Betty. However, a little familiarity with evil, via, say, a horror novel, might have better prepared Betty for dealing with the evil Jill. I only had to hear a few stories about Jill to recognize it. And, really, who better than a horror writer to tell you someone is evil? (Some people just won’t listen.)

So I entreat you, writers of the dark, write a great horror novel. Not just a scary horror story, but a great novel within the genre. Write it well, write it accessibly, and write it to attract readers of all stripes. Write it for the Bettys of the world who might fare the better for it. And, heck, write it for me. I haven’t read a really good horror novel in a long time.

Oh, and by the by, my horror novel, Willing Servants, comes out tomorrow.