In the Mood for Horror

Now that Horror Month is drawing to a close, it's time to take one last foray into a horror topic which would be nigh unforgivable for me to neglect any longer.

I've already told you about the most unsettling book I've read, my top recommendation for a literary Halloween, and my favorite modern horror book.

Over the past several years especially, I've noticed one other thing about my enjoyment of - and experiences in - the horror genre, though, and I want to share it with you:

Though he doesn't necessarily write all my favorite horror stories - nor even what I would call the scariest stories out there - no other writings puts me so squarely in the horror mood than the works of Edgar Allan Poe. At first pass, this may sound a bit cliche; I hope I can rise this explanation at least a hair above this surface triteness.

I have a very vague memory of reading The Cask of Amontillado in high school. (Or perhaps it was read to me in class? Maybe not read at all, but merely discussed?) The reason it's so vague, though, is because I remember not particularly enjoying it all too much. I'm sure I also came across The Raven at one point or another, and probably The Tell-Tale Heart, at least in passing.

It wasn't until I sat down one day to begin writing my own horror novel when I realized that - for all my love of horror - I wasn't quite sure how to establish the mood just right. I pored over it for awhile, attempted several false starts, but ultimately couldn't decide on the right pieces, the right words, the right way to bring my images together. I would have to read some horror, then, to get inspiration.

I was feeling antsy to get started on my own book, though; I didn't want to waste too much time getting buried in a full novel. As fate would have it, an old, beat-up paperback of the completes work of Poe was sitting on my shelf. (I must have picked it up for cheap somewhere along the way, though I no longer remember when or where.) This seemed like the perfect fit - I could read just one or two of his short stories in no time flat, then get right back into my own writing.

Only it didn't work out that way. No, I still haven't actually read all of his writings, but I devoured a sizable chunk of his complete works over the next day, maybe two. And even when I wasn't fully immersed in the stories, I was still constantly opening up the book for reference - to recount a certain image or passage, or remind myself of how Poe would handle one situation or another in his writing.

If I recall, I believe I started with The Fall of the House of Usher (possibly still my favorite Poe story). I also read - and re-read several times, right away - The Masque of the Red Death (my other favorite of his stories). The Tell-Tale Heart was in the mix, as was The Assignation, Hop-Frog, and The Oblong Box, as well as at least 12 or 15 others, and a bunch of his poems (of which I particularly loved The Raven, The Conqueror Worm, and The Haunted Palace). I've also enjoyed The Imp of the Perverse a number of times, though it's not as much of a story as the others - more of a philosophical treatise.

It's no secret that, even nowadays, a lot of writers claim Poe as an inspiration for their writing. And yet, none of these authors write like Poe anymore, do they? None of them sport the bountiful vocabulary, the oftentimes labyrinthine sentences, the intense focus on mood over plot or characters, the totalism of imagery and detail.

Back when I first really dove into Poe's works, it certainly worked as an inspiration for me - not only for establishing the right mood and atmosphere in my own writing, but also for putting me in the right paradigm for the season, the feelings, the experience I most want to get out of horror. This mindset is something I've returned to countless times over the years since my first true experiences with Poe, and it's something I have every faith I will continue in throughout the coming years.

Happy Halloween, friends!