Something in the Shadows: An Open Letter to Horror Holdouts

Ben Vandersluis

Photo credit: “Heavy Fog Above a Forest” by Thomas Griesbeck, 2016. This photo has been dedicated to the public domain by its creator.


This post is dedicated to all of my friends and family members who have told me—very kindly, very gently—that horror stories really aren’t their cup of tea. If that’s you and you’re reading this: I hear you, and I respect you. I’d even say I support you.

But if I’m honest, I don’t really believe you, not completely.

You see, I was in your shoes about six years ago. “Horror” was not a label I claimed, was something I didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. I’d occasionally let my friends talk me into seeing a scary movie, but I’d pull back at the same time: I’d spend the whole movie with my knees tucked into my chest, fingers hovering by my ears, ready to plug-and-hide at a moment’s notice. I remember watching The Babadook that way. I was terrified. My heart pounded almost the entire time.

To this day, I still find myself assuming that posture when I watch a scary movie and the tension builds. Knees up in front, fingers by my ears. My fondness for horror hasn’t changed that. It just makes it bearable.

What changed for me was that I found a horror story that absolutely captivated me. When IT hit theaters in September 2017, I went to see it. I had no familiarity with the story, and barely any experience with King. But the trailer struck a chord with me and I said, “Damn, I want to see that,” so I did. And I absolutely loved it. The story was rich, the jump scares minimal (or well done), the monsters oddly intriguing. I found the whole experience to be as thought-provoking as it was haunting. It brought me back to my childhood days when us kids would tell scary stories around a campfire or during a sleepover; there is something both primal and pure about the fears of children. I realized then that if this was horror, then I’d always been a horror fan. That became the lens through which I’ve experienced all other horror; IT was my gateway.

And that’s really the point I want to make: I think there’s a horror story out there for everyone. Contemporary horror is so incredibly varied. If your first instinct is to recoil from “horror,” I humbly suggest you might have a narrow perception of that term, as I once did. There’s a perfect horror story out there for everyone—even for you.

I’ll refrain from inundating you with a detailed taxonomy of horror’s many subgenres—that’s what Google is for. But I will leave you with two lists of stories that are very accessible for newcomers to the genre. The first is a list of stories Spindle House has published in our literary journal, The Deeps. The second is a list of “classics” that are truly masterful. Both lists are intended as beginner-friendly horror tales.

My challenge to you is this: pick any five of these, at least two from each list, and read them from start to finish. Read with an open mind; let the stories draw you in and captivate you. And if you do begin to taste the richness of the genre, I challenge you to pursue it further, to let it lead you where it may.

I say this often: my “gospel of horror” is that it’s really not so bad to consume the darker stories now and then. Dark tales challenge us to dig deeper within ourselves and find something we’ve overlooked or left dormant. Returning to those shadowy places can be uncomfortable, yes, but also rewarding. I hope you’ll join us on the path.

Select Tales from The Deeps

Select Classic Tales

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Luc Diamant and the Horror Game

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Three Tales for the Winter