I recently completed a short writing course on ‘Writing Horror Fiction’ with Writers & Artists (W&A) and wanted to share some thoughts and key takeaways. The five-week online course was run by author Kirsty Logan and covered many aspects of the horror genre – with a mixture of discussion, creative and critical exercises.

Why did I undertake a horror course? you might reasonably ask. And yes, I can confirm the disbelief of my friends and family that someone as frightenable (apparently this is a word) as myself would be interested in reading and writing horror…

Well, I suppose although I don’t set out to read within the horror genre very often (if at all), I’ve always enjoyed stories that are weird and unsettling. When I think of some of my favourite books of recent years, it has often been along the lines of the strange and uncanny. I think of Bunny by Mona Awad, Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer and short story collections like Bora Chung’s Cursed Bunny and Samanta Schweblin’s Mouthful of Birds.

I don’t think these books necessarily fall under the straight ‘horror’ categorisation, but I certainly am drawn to things that make you feel a bit uneasy. I like the feeling of putting a book down at the end and going wow, that was weird.

My second reason for taking the course was to help inform my current work-in-progress novel which I’m loosely defining as eco horror. I wanted to learn more about the wider horror genre and get some tips on how to build settings and events that frighten the reader.

The good news is that the course definitely did the above and ignited some inspiration both for my novel and some new short stories. I really enjoyed the opportunity to dive into something different for me, and hear from Kirsty and the other writers about their recommendations and writing.

So, without giving too much away, here are a couple of highlights/lessons I took away from the course:

The monster can be so much more than a traditional monster

This is an obvious one, but I enjoyed the exploration of what exactly a monster can be – especially when it comes to the dynamic between the monster itself, and the person it’s ‘haunting’. This really resonated with me in terms of my eco horror novel and gave me lots of food for thought. Why are my characters attracted to/repulsed by the ‘monster’? What does the ‘monster’ do for them? How can it blur the boundaries between real and unreal? We’re talking so much more than a clown in the sewer or a mindless zombie here…

Ghost stories are often about power

One of my favourite writing exercises in the course gave me a first-hand insight into the ways ghost stories can be about agency and power, especially if there are interesting gender dynamics at play. Of course, just like the ‘monster’, a ghost can be so much more than a Casper-the-ghost style apparition in a white sheet. In many ways, every character should be haunted – by someone, or something. Because don’t we all have our own ghosts in the cupboard…?

Our childhood fears can be the juiciest material

I never explicitly thought before about how my weird and often unfounded childhood fears and nightmares could be perfect writing fuel… until now! As someone who has always had vivid dreams (and more recently night terrors), I’m so interested in delving into the feelings and memories evoked in one of our lessons. Of course, some of my childhood fears were very specific to me (we’re talking Kermit the Frog and polar bears here), but there’s something to be learnt about why these were so scary – and also about the way these fears can stay with us, make us who we are, frighten us to this day.

Walking the boundaries between the real and unreal

One of the things I’m most struggling with in my work-in-progress is the borderlands between what’s real and what’s unreal – eg, what’s natural and what could be supernatural. I want to unsettle my characters and readers, but do I have to give all the answers? What ending can satisfy the reader but also leave things unsaid and unfinished?

Overall, I think the course taught me to live in that in between space, and to own it. Practically, I need to find a way to finish the book at the end (whatever that might look like) but I think I’m ok with leaning into the weirdness and maybe letting my reader decide how frightened they should be.

I’ll take these lessons with me as I continue working on my novel, but also as I try my hand at some new short stories, some of which were inspired by our writing exercises. I definitely feel refreshed and revived by the course, and want to thank W&A and especially Kirsty, whose passion and expertise in the genre shone through in every lesson.

Finally, the course also provided me with a lovely (?) list of films and books to consume within the horror genre. Ignoring the usual Stephen King recommendations, here are a few I’ll be tucking into in the future:

Books

• The Little Stranger, Sarah Waters
• The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson
• Meet Me At The Surface, Jodie Mathews
• Things We Say In The Dark, Kirsty Logan
• The Rental Heart & Other Fairytales, Kirsty Logan

Films

• Session 9
• The Invisible Man
• Fresh
• Huesera: The Bone Woman
• Men
• You Are Not My Mother
• Picnic at Hanging Rock

And, I was lucky enough to be sent a couple of titles from Bloomsbury’s Raven Books imprint to get me into the horror state of mind. I’ve already finished The Leviathan by Rosie Andrews which I really enjoyed.