A Rare Experience.

I’m getting into my new book now – the paranormal/psychological drama, The Haunting of Hill House. And here’s an interesting fact:

I’m hardly ever spooked by stories which fall within the genre labelled ‘horror.’ A few Japanese films have come close, but that’s about it. I don’t recall any film, book or short story having made me reluctant to go upstairs at dead of night. (The three films I remember scaring me witless were Jaws, Alien and Life of Pi, none of which had anything paranormal about them. The Ghost and the Darkness – which has lions but no ghosts in it – was another one until I forced myself to watch it to the end, at which point I realised that it was effectively a remake of Jaws. The previous sense of spookiness was immediately dispelled and replaced by self-congratulation at what I regarded as a mildly adroit observation.)

But after reading most of chapter 2 last night, I did feel slightly reluctant to go upstairs. It made a refreshing change, and has to stand as some level of commendation.