![]() I wanted to talk about the stories I loved in a supportive, inclusive, and (halfway) articulate manner. I’d written my first novel, was writing another, and swore: If I was building a career out of horror, then I was going to proselytize for the entire genre. But in my early 20s I grew tired of always being on the defensive. ![]() ![]() Part of the genre’s appeal is that it’s not for everyone, and if the squares can’t handle it, that’s fine. Horror fans learn early that sometimes we’re prompted to defend our taste in the macabre. I think she’d hand this short story assignment over to the principal, if she didn’t like me so much, if I weren’t somewhere between a class clown and a complete kiss-ass. Sick and morbid are some of the descriptors my high school English teacher uses. (A parent or guardian is required when a 10-year-old wants to see Bride of Chucky in a theater.) ![]() “I’ll bring you, but I hate this stuff,” my dad says. “Ick, why would you want to read that?” It’s Scholastic Book Fair day and a classmate’s peeking over my shoulder. ![]()
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