Bad things happen in the world. Really bad things. Things so disgusting that most people would rather not speak of them at all. By not speaking about them, we can kind of pretend they don't exist. These things can range from what's inside your stomach and what happens to it all if your stomach is split open, to the real-world horrors of rapists and human traffickers.
Whenever you write horror, someone will inevitably ask you, "Jesus, what kind of a sick puppy are you to come up with this?" and "Why would anybody want to read/write about this?" The answer to the first question is, "I just report what I see in reality, and without a filter." The answer to the second question is, "Because someone has to."
The job of every writer, whether they're writing romance or horror or biographies, is to be honest. Indeed, the mission of every artist on the planet is to be honest with themselves and honest about the world around them, or else they can never hope to get at the core of what makes a subject worth articulating. If that means reporting that an abused housewife secretly likes it when her husband beats her because it's the only time she ever feels loved, then that's what the writer must write. Because it's the truth. It's the truth, or else no one would remain in such an abusive relationship for twenty years. And, if the writer writes about the compulsion of some men (and women) to sexually abuse children, then the writer must write about that also, and even about the physical pain and injuries they sustain.
You see, the horror writer feels that it's not the writer's decision to look away. It's the audiences' decision. They're adults, and they can decide for themselves what they should or should not imbibe. The horror writer tends to be a person fascinated by the things other people avoid. They're the ones who stare at a corpse at a funeral and say, "That's going to be me someday, all embalmed and stuffed full of newspaper." It's real, and it's something nobody talks about casually.
If the audience doesn't want to read it, that's their business. But I am going to report on it. That's my business.
The horror genre is often unfairly criticised for being sensationalistic. While some horror stories may be done this way, it's no more or less garbage than when a romance novel is made overtly trashy. When done best, horror novels don't do anything but serve up the truth. And not just the truth about what it looks like to be disemboweled or the smell of it, but the truth about what you're really afraid of.
People aren't just afraid of seeing spilled blood (although that is a hot button with some). No, what they're afraid of is why the blood was spilled, and by who/what. If it's spilled by a random brick that fell from a decrepit building, it makes them feel vulnerable. They think, That could've been me, and no amount of martial arts training or preparation would have saved me. Randomness scares these types. Randomness, and the helplessness that comes with it.
I was recently scheduled to go on a cruise with some friends, and at least one of them backed out because of the stories they had heard about the two cruise ships that sank this year. The one that backed out was a lifelong martial artist and tough guy, never seemed to be scared of anything else that the rest of us could see. So why was he so scared about this...?
Oh, yeah, the helplessness. Right. No round-kicking a shark or arm-barring the ocean. If your ship sinks, you belong to the sea and her whims. The film Open Water wasn't terrifying because of the sharks under the water, it was terrifying because of the couples' helplessness. Though little blood was spilled in that film, in its own way it was a horror film.
Horror doesn't happen outside of you. It is an internal force, not an external one. And, when done well, it provokes philosophical questions, and when done poorly, is just a bunch of "torture porn." Just as quality erotica can explore exactly what it is that turns people on when they feel vulnerable, horror asks the question, "Why are we so turned off many times when we feel vulnerable?" When is vulnerability good, and when is it bad? How do the two go together, yet oppose?
In my opinion, the best horror makes these two moments overlap, and causes you to question whether you like what you're seeing/reading (because it's something horrific happening to a bad person), or whether you're repulsed by it. However you feel, it has profound implications about you as a person. A good love story, say, by Jane Austen, can make one consider how one feels about love--do you feel your heart beat faster when Mr. Darcy guardedly says something approaching romantic to Elizabeth Bennett, or do you feel lonely because you don't think you'll ever find someone like him, or do you feel cynical, thinking to yourself, Nobody falls in love like this?
Again, either way you feel about it, it has profound implications about who you are. You, the reader, the experiencer of this tale. Your reaction to it says more about you than it does the one who wrote it.
A person shouldn't feel bad if they don't have the stomach to wade through the macabre in, say, a Dean Koontz novel. But one also shouldn't think less of those who do have the stomach for it. For instance, think of those real-life monsters that kill and/or rape their victims on video. Some police investigator somewhere has to watch that video to discern details about the case, and perhaps study it for future reference in other cases.
If not for those brave enough to stomach these monstrosities, our society could not function. The horror genre isn't one to be ignored or cast aside. In fact, it may be one of the best tools we have for peeking inside ourselves to see what lies beneath...and not just all the gooey bits.
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