I sometimes feel I need to embrace that this page on my website–the one I alternately think of as a news source, mental ward journal, and horror aphrodisiac–is really just a blog. I know how that sounds, believe me. I have the intense urge to wash my mouth out with soap. But it’s true.
This is a horror writer’s blog. My horror writing blog.
If you’ve been reading along for more than a few months, you know my schizophrenic ramblings can span many topics, and sure, there’s actual news about my writing now and then, but more often it’s just liquid crazy. And I drink it by the gallon.
Following my established pattern of nonsense, I’m updating this–say it with me–horror writing blog, for no real reason. Okay, there is a reason, but it’s not a good one.
I’m often asked why I became a horror writer, and I often say I have no idea. Well, I found a pile of childhood books on my bookshelf. In the future, when people ask why I became a horror writer, I think I’ll simply show them this picture.
Now I ask you:
Why do you write/read/watch/make love to horror?