Frightening Novelists Discuss the Scariest Tales They have Ever Read
A Renowned Horror Author
The Summer People from a master of suspense
I read this tale some time back and it has stayed with me ever since. The named “summer people” are a couple urban dwellers, who lease a particular isolated rural cabin every summer. During this visit, in place of going back home, they choose to lengthen their holiday for a month longer – something that seems to disturb everyone in the nearby town. All pass on a similar vague warning that nobody has ever stayed in the area beyond the holiday. Even so, the Allisons are determined to not leave, and at that point situations commence to grow more bizarre. The person who supplies the kerosene declines to provide for them. No one agrees to bring food to their home, and as the Allisons try to go to the village, their vehicle fails to start. A storm gathers, the energy in the radio diminish, and with the arrival of dusk, “the elderly couple crowded closely inside their cabin and expected”. What could be the Allisons waiting for? What do the locals understand? Every time I read Jackson’s unnerving and inspiring story, I’m reminded that the finest fright stems from what’s left undisclosed.
Mariana Enríquez
An Eerie Story from a noted author
In this brief tale a couple go to a typical seaside town where bells ring continuously, a perpetual pealing that is irritating and inexplicable. The initial extremely terrifying scene takes place during the evening, at the time they choose to take a walk and they can’t find the water. There’s sand, there is the odor of rotting fish and salt, surf is audible, but the sea appears spectral, or another thing and worse. It is simply profoundly ominous and each occasion I travel to the coast at night I think about this narrative that destroyed the ocean after dark for me – favorably.
The newlyweds – the wife is youthful, the husband is older – return to their lodging and discover the reason for the chiming, through an extended episode of claustrophobia, gruesome festivities and demise and innocence encounters dance of death chaos. It’s a chilling meditation regarding craving and decay, two people maturing in tandem as spouses, the connection and aggression and gentleness of marriage.
Not merely the most frightening, but likely one of the best brief tales in existence, and an individual preference. I encountered it in the Spanish language, in the debut release of Aickman stories to be released in this country several years back.
Catriona Ward
Zombie from Joyce Carol Oates
I delved into this narrative beside the swimming area in the French countryside in 2020. Even with the bright weather I sensed cold creep within me. I also experienced the electricity of excitement. I was writing my latest book, and I faced a block. I was uncertain if it was possible an effective approach to craft some of the fearful things the narrative involves. Experiencing this novel, I understood that it was possible.
Published in 1995, the story is a bleak exploration within the psyche of a criminal, the protagonist, modeled after an infamous individual, the criminal who murdered and dismembered numerous individuals in the Midwest over a decade. As is well-known, this person was consumed with making a zombie sex slave who would stay by his side and attempted numerous grisly attempts to do so.
The actions the book depicts are terrible, but just as scary is its own psychological persuasiveness. The protagonist’s awful, shattered existence is simply narrated in spare prose, details omitted. The audience is immersed trapped in his consciousness, compelled to observe thoughts and actions that horrify. The strangeness of his thinking resembles a physical shock – or finding oneself isolated on a desolate planet. Going into Zombie is not just reading and more like a physical journey. You are absorbed completely.
Daisy Johnson
White Is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi
When I was a child, I sleepwalked and later started having night terrors. Once, the horror included a nightmare where I was trapped inside a container and, as I roused, I discovered that I had torn off a part off the window, attempting to escape. That home was crumbling; during heavy rain the entranceway became inundated, maggots came down from the roof onto the bed, and once a sizeable vermin climbed the drapes in the bedroom.
When a friend gave me Helen Oyeyemi’s novel, I was residing elsewhere with my parents, but the story of the house high on the Dover cliffs felt familiar to me, longing as I felt. It is a novel about a haunted loud, emotional house and a young woman who ingests limestone from the cliffs. I loved the novel immensely and came back frequently to its pages, always finding {something