I’ve been thinking about this lately while re-reading Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot. Twenty years ago, this book kept me awake for weeks. Now, while I still appreciate the craft, I realize I’m not feeling that same spine-chilling terror. Maybe it’s because we’re constantly bombarded with real-world horrors on our phones, or perhaps horror movies have desensitized us to written scares.
But then last week, I started reading Mexican Gothic late at night, and found myself double-checking my door locks and jumping at every creak. It hit me – maybe we haven’t become immune; we just need different kinds of horror to unsettle us. The psychological slow-burns seem to creep under our skin more than the classic monster stories these days.
What was the last horror book that genuinely scared you, and how does it compare to what frightened you when you first started reading horror?