Why monsters, you might ask? Well, maybe its because I loved spooky stories as a kid. As a young boy, I had a vivid imagination, imagining everything from the classic monsters of movies and tales to something that my then next-door neighbor made up. It was this strange creature called a bob-wolf, half bobcat and half wolf. Of course, we know it’s not real, but I was three. I firmly believed it was out there, and I was scared to death of running into one. Slick and I would sometimes walk down to the pond or the barn “hunting” for them.
Back then, living on the small farm outside of town, the next farm down from ours was owned by an elderly man named “Slick” Reeves. Honestly, I don’t know his real first name. All I ever heard him called was Slick. I’m not even sure why. All I know was he was a heck of a nice guy and always had time to shoot the breeze and fill my young head with tall-tales and stories fit for an inquisitive young boy. Probably my earlies memories of scary stories come from him. As I grew, I wanted to hear more and more creepy tales and legends. I couldn’t get enough of them.
Now that I’m an adult, I still love a good horror story. I enjoy writing them, as well. To me, they’re just a lot of fun. I guess it all goes back to our primitive instincts, fearing the dark and whatever hid there, just beyond the reach of the firelight. On a cold winter’s night, who wouldn’t get a chill down their spine at the howling of a wolf or the baying of a distant hound. The images it conjured was enough to give you shivers and color your nightmares.
To me, the best horror stories are the ones that have just enough truth to them to make them really seem possible. That’s what I try to do with my writing. Sometimes the stories are about fantastical creatures that most people refuse to believe exist. Sometimes, they’re about creatures that might exist, whether we choose to believe in them or not.
That’s what I try to bring to my writing. I want the real word details to be correct and the story to be so plausible that it leaves you wondering, could this really happen? Could those things really exist? What was that noise I just heard? Hopefully, I achieve a modicum of success in that category. If you’re reading this, then hopefully you agree.
My mother was a big part of that inspiration that I had as a child. She encouraged me in so many ways. I lost her when I was still really young, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. I would love to have known what she thought of my writing. Would she have been proud?
There are plenty of legends and monsters out there, waiting to scare new generations of readers. To shape and encourage young minds with vivid imaginations. Some of those monsters are familiar to us, to our group psyche. Others might seem alien or strange, but they can still make you look over your shoulder when you’re walking alone in the dark. Then there are the others, the ones that we haven’t even made up yet. The horrors, yet unfulfilled. I’m still working on some of those. There are countless other writers out there doing the exact same thing. The darkened pathways we haven’t walked yet. Honestly, I’m excited just thinking about it.
So, stick with me a while, if you don’t mind. Walk with me for a bit. We can share a mug of cocoa near a warm fire and tell stories of the things that lurk just beyond its light. Maybe I can frighten you. Maybe you’ll frighten me. That’s the beauty of scary stories. We each experience them in our own ways because each of us has different things that give us those goosebumps and chills down our spines.
Writing is a catharsis for me, telling stories that I enjoy telling. Stories that might just scare even me, a bit. Stories that might scare us both. I get the chance to share my stories with you all on this strange journey we’re on.
Thank you for taking it with me.