I am married to a horror junkie. Anthony loves scary movies, true crime novels and shows, ghost and haunting stories, eerie music, and haunted house rides at theme parks.
While he grew up feasting on slasher flicks, Dracula’s Castle on the Wildwood boardwalk, and creepy Addams family cartoons, I was all Strawberry Shortcake dolls, Sweet Pickles books, pop music, and bumper cars.
Our home offices reflect our preferences. His room–dark burgundy walls with dark velvet drapes and flickering candelabras–is festooned with horror movie props (masks, weapons) and action figures from Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, and many more. When I’m home alone at night, I tend to speed walk past his room, averting my eyes as I go.
For 20 years, I’ve gamely played along with his love of the macabre–I’ve closed my eyes while watching his favorite movies, smiled and nodded when he said he wanted to buy a vintage hearse, and visited haunted houses at theme parks and boardwalks around the country. I even agreed to read a few of his true crime recommendations–Helter Skelter, The Amityville Horror, and something about John List, a notorious murderer who lived in Ant’s hometown.
Even though I’m a sport about it, I just can’t get down with being scared out of my wits. I only read Stephen King novels when Ant’s home, and even then I do so with one eye squeezed shut. For a year or two in high school, I was devouring King’s books–It, Gerald’s Game, Cujo, The Shining, Needful Things–but I often raced through the really tense or scary parts, barely skimming the words. I guess that was my trip to the ‘wild side’, seeing that I never experimented with anything harder than that.
So, this Friday the 13th will you be snuggling up with a horror novel or movie? Do you read true crime or horror?