Editor Griffin Gartner talks to Rebecca about a piece of micro-fiction she wrote for an NYC Midnight competition. He walks her through what’s working, how to make it scarier, and how she could expand it just based on the idea itself. Griffin is a master at horror and gives tons of advice on what it means to write horror and as well as how to consistently write stories that speak to you as a writer.
Griffin helps horror writers craft scarier stories. Find out more at gartnerediting.com.
Things Griffin and I mention in the episode:
Some of these links (marked with an *) are affiliate links, which means I earn a small commission if you click on and make a purchase from them. Your price doesn’t change either way.
- NYC Midnight
- The subcategories of horror (though there are more than a few opinions about this)
- Robert McKee
- 6 key components of tension experiences: conflict/dissonance/instability, uncertainty, generating expectations/predictions or anticipation, emotional significance of the anticipated events (what are the stakes), lack of control, temporal aspects
- The Exorcist*
- The Artist’s Way*
- Types of monsters: crocodile, leach, storm, stranger, germ
The Story From This Episode
Melissa watched her child happily lick the trails of melting ice cream from his hands to the top of the scoop and back. In a war against time and heat, he tried in vain to finish the cone before it deposited itself onto his clothes, shoes, the ground. She finished hers quickly and counted down time with his giggles.
Three minutes and forty-two seconds until he finished. Another thirteen before the drugs kicked in. Then, she’d have approximately one hour to do the deed lest the genetic condition he’d inherited kick in, and it was too late.
The last time someone in her family didn’t kill The Affected was in Germany. Late 30’s. History was a constant reminder. But could she go through with it? Did she believe the stories?
Her heart hammered in her ears, mocking her. You’re not strong enough. But her resolve hardened when he talked to a bird and she saw it almost listen to what he said, almost follow the command.
Time was running out.
Her hands ran through his curls absentmindedly as they walked to the van. Then darkness crept into her vision; sensation left her limbs. She stumbled, grasping for the door, keys in her hand.
“Mom?” He looked up at her, pitying. “You shouldn’t have done that.” A horrible smile reached his lips.
He instructed her to get in and drive. She listened without protest. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered what would become of her. Of the world.