1 (edited by max keanu 2016-05-24 16:59:59)

Topic: the real horror in you

List the three big, real and terrifying horror events in your life, in less than 30 words, and in acceding order please. I'm trying to get a topic for a contest.


1. the moment I discovered my wife hanging in our bedroom closet.

2. shot with a shotgun, point blank.

3. the moment a fiancee told me she loved another man as much I loved her

2 (edited by mikejackson1127 2016-05-27 17:15:08)

Re: the real horror in you

All right, Max.

1) Being threatened by gangsters for money. 2) Nearly being squashed by a speeding freight train at age fourteen. 3) Knowing, deep within, I'd finally exhausted God's patience, at age twenty-six.

If you're looking for increasingly greater horror/disturbance, I think I did it right. 28 words. The third entry might sound wacky or very melodramatic, but it was real. I can't prove its reality, but if I needed to, I could talk about it.

Re: the real horror in you

mikejackson1127 wrote:

All right, Max.

The third entry might sound wacky or very melodramatic, but it was real. I can't prove its reality, but if I needed to, I could talk about it.

Talk about it. God has been a horror show since the first Neanderthal was betrayed after preying the Saber-Tooth Tiger didn't smell him. Frontal lobe boogie-boogie is all that God is; you dance to that internal song or you don't. IS THAT ALL THERE IS, a great song sung by Peggy Lee (George Clooney's aunt) will make you wonder and wander in the existential realm... and that is the realm where horror fiction can start and end, or visa-versa.

Re: the real horror in you

I respect your opinion/s, Max, and I don't blame you reg. your opinion about whether or not God exists. There's always been plenty of things going on in this mad world that can/does cause extreme skepticism.

To elaborate on my experience... To say that I'd exhausted God's patience isn't really the best way to verbalize it, but I certainly had come to a point where I knew in my "knower" that I'd lived a rebellious and sickening life for too long. I'm fully convinced that had I not called on Him and asked for mercy I'd have been dead a long time ago, maybe that very night.

The horror of it... It was more than seeing myself dying and going to a realm of eternal torment. I think we all can paint nightmarish pictures of what Hell might look like. The horror - part of it - was a lasting chill and repeating, "God, please don't let me die!" Sometimes in my mind, sometimes aloud.

Other dimensions to the horror: seeing just about everyone as someone sent to kill me or destroy what was left of my mind. It took a few years to get to a place where I could really trust people again. And there were - and sometimes still are - highly visual dreams... Being chased, being shot(and sometimes killed), being burned up in a pit. But regarding the dreams, the worst part was waking from them, absolutely convinced I was in Hell, that I'd finally wound up there. You know, the kinds of dreams that seem impossible to wake up from...

Another part of the horror was seeing(and this is funny, to me. Maybe a comedy-horror story could be built on this alone!)many other Believers as secret followers of Satan. That was when I was going through my extreme paranoia. Then too, that's not really too far off the proverbial dial. A lot of people who call themselves "followers of Christ" aren't. The reasons why are many, needless to say.

The only other component of the horror involved is knowing that I still live in some conflict with God, ignoring him, mistreating others, living mostly for myself. I consider that part of the horror because I'm up against the One who, ultimately, brought me into this world and can take me out. The One who can "destroy body and soul in Hell."

Re: the real horror in you

If start yabbing as in my last post, let me know... Mike, others. In Washington 20 cups of coffee is the norm, really.

Re: the real horror in you

No problem, Max. I can relate to the coffee thing, lol. Hopefully, some more people will perk up...no pun intended.

Re: the real horror in you

1. The early and scarring realization of death and mortality at a very very young age.
2. The realization that empathy is the death of freedom.
3. The murder/suicide of my parents at age 17.

8 (edited by max keanu 2016-06-29 18:23:59)

Re: the real horror in you

the point with the theme i presented was to gear up horror writers to the mass-market fiction realm. empathy, well, we all need empathy to share our understanding of the world, whether it be good or evil, as that is what writing is all about: sharing emotions, digging deep into the dark realm were most people will not venture. we are sharing our thoughts to educate others to good or evil. and that is the freedom we have to present to others, to let them read, learn, enjoy in perhaps ghoulish ways... and pay money to delve into the darker places.

empathy is not the end of freedom, but the beginning of a freedom, since to belong to a group of like-minded individuals allows one the freedom to move beyond the selfish blinders and myopic distortion of a self-contained, limited worldview to then see your place as a successful writer within the world and of the world. poe was a dunk and a nut-case, but his command of the english language and his ability to share (for money, he hoped) his dark thoughts was in many ways his way to express emphatic empathy. he knew the feelings, emotions, dark emotions of others and self, and like many artists he worked and played with this knowledge of drastic and painful emotions to create refined works of art that endured.

murder/suicide of people one loves creates a searing brand within the brain's neural nets that is elusive, scaring, tormenting and for me, vile. murder/suicide/extreme fear & violence are types of experience that will never dissipate, but may only increase and complicate one's life and loves; thereby making the individual an outcast in the realm of polite society. to be cast into impolite society, into the realm of the angry artist, is a hard road to travel. turning a horrific, terrible, monstrous event in one's life around, placing in an artistic format can exercise or excise the psyche to strengthen one's will power to overcome and perhaps understand the horrific. then again it may turn one to escape routes: drugs, drink, other addictions- wine, women and song, lol.

i conjure up the memories of body pain, the smell of gunpowder, the compression of time when i was shot with a shotgun in the abdomen to enhance my writing when a scene needs a drastic lift in emotions or pace. i'm still dealing with the look of death on my wife's face when i discovered her hanging. a year has passed and i realize my writing ambition will not let this horrible event go; at some point i will allow that horrible day rise up and push my writing... one writes what they know; few people are survivors of a suicide and I am going channel this horrible event into my art, my writing, my music composition. but i'm not  ready for that yet.

death is an abstraction that can never be understood in its entirety and that is one of the clays, the raw materials that we can use to shape and mold around the abstraction (death and dying) to create 'edge-of-the-chair' suspense. empathy, imo, should be an element suffused into stories with measured amounts, to be played with, but in the end (literally) an emotion that can move and should move a reader to consider a writer masterful in the writing craft.