I can’t help myself sometimes. Even when I think I’m in the middle of writing a “normal” story, the weird has a way of creeping in. Most of the time, however, I invite it.
The challenge is to hit upon the right degree of creepy, the right disturbing element without going over the edge into cliché. Modern readers are jaded. You can’t creep them out with the sorts of horrors that worked for Poe.
Working on The Hornbeam Door, I knew all along that some of the action would take place in a small Kansas town an hour or so away from my invented/hybrid New Boston, Kansas. I had assumed, however, that I’d just make up a town. This town would be the site of a series of unnatural events that would disrupt everybody’s received notions about death and the afterlife.
I toyed with a number of ideas for why this particular town was the locus for this, as well as some possible early signs that all was not right in this town. Certainly there are places long associated with the supernatural. Rooms, houses, palaces, and even meadows deemed haunted or cursed, or otherwise imbued with the presence of some malevolent force. I planned to create this myth from whole cloth.
Codell Methodist Church May 21, 1918
Sometimes, the creepy just falls into your lap. So it was with Codell, Kansas.
On May 20, 1916, a tornado struck Codell, Kansas.
On May 20, 1917, a tornado struck Codell, Kansas.
On May 20, 1918, a tornado struck Codell, Kansas, killing ten people and destroying nearly every building in town.
For people who believe in the supernatural, it invites all manner of speculation. A place marked for destruction? An intended death that didn’t quite pan out the first two times?
I believe I’ve found my creepy little cursed town.
Bryn Greenwood 
Yup, that’s creepy enough for me.
The place is clearly cursed.
Wow. And people live there voluntarily.
Yep, that’s pretty much perfect, Bryn.
Not very many of them, though. That third tornado kind of stunted the town’s development. For my story, that’s where I’ll have to depart from reality. I’m going to make it a bit bigger than it is in real life.
Cool! I can’t wait to read this one…
That is awesome. How did you manage to discover that nugget of information?
Courtesy of Free State Brewery. On the back side of their dessert placard on each table, they include a monthly listing of Kansas-related trivia.
If you just made this up everyone would tell you it couldn’t possibly be true and nobody would believe it. It’s definitely the perfect setting for HORNBEAM.
Amazing. I’m on this kick lately where I’m wondering “why bother? truth truly is stranger than fiction.” Can’t wait to read your take.
“Modern readers are jaded. You can’t creep them out with the sorts of horrors that worked for Poe.” — was just discussing this the other day. (Minor SQUEE to find your blog and then realize you’re a dark/horror scribe, as well. Awesome.) Anyway, do you find you have “go-to” words or phrases for invoking the creepy? I’m always interested in what other writers find scary, and how they douse today’s readers with a true sense of horror…
I wouldn’t say I have “go-to” words that I’m aware of. (Maybe my critique partners would say differently.) Typically what I like to do–and had never thought of it as leaning toward horror–is to paint a scene that is ostensibly nice and pleasant. Then, when the reader is feeling fairly sure of his/her footing, I just pull a thread, make a snag in the nice to reveal the unpleasant underneath. This is why even the pieces I write that I think aren’t creepy get described as creepy.
Just stumbled onto this site.
My wife grew up a mile from Codell, Ks.
Her Grandfather was Steven Tucker who owned the bank in the years the town was hit.
Nothing supernatural-no one cursed.
Just good country people who had the misfortune of being in the middle of a freakish natural event.
Even in the years my wife was growing up the community of Codell was still there.
Not thriving but still there.
Nice folks all with their own stories of the 3 years.
Before my wifes Granny passed she would tell the stories of those 3 years.
She was in grade school and living in the town at that time.
Very interesting. That of course, is where fiction has to say good-bye to fact in order to tell its story.