My name is Heaven, and I’ve loved horror ever since I was a little ghoul. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a morbid curiosity for the scarier side of life. I have vivid memories of going to the school library on a weekly basis in pursuit of a new Goosebumps book to devour. Sometimes, I would switch things up and borrow one of the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books…again.

These books both fascinated and terrified my younger self. The “Harold” story from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark still sends a shiver down my spine when I think about it, and I’m 25 years old now. I always found myself drawn to these kinds of books, even though I often felt as if my heart was going to burst through my chest while I was reading them. My fascination with horror didn’t stop with books, either.

I used to play a game when my mom would take me to the video rental stores (may they rest in peace). While my mom was looking for movies for us to watch, I would sneak away to the horror section. I would begin creeping down the aisle, peeking at some of the covers as I walked. I would see just how far down the aisle I could get before I came across a DVD cover that would scare me enough to make me abandon the horror aisle. Usually, it was Child’s Play 2 that did me in. I absolutely hated Chucky when I was a kid.

Horror films definitely affected me more as a child than horror books did. My parents introduced me to Godzilla movies and the 80’s classic Killer Klowns From Outer Space when I was incredibly young. I absolutely fell in love with Godzilla and Killer Klowns, and to this day, I put these movies on whenever I’m searching for comfort. However, I was admittedly a huge scaredy cat when it came to the more sinister movies. I remember my mom was watching The Blob (1988) when I was maybe 6 or 7 years old. I came downstairs when the scene where the blob descends from the ceiling and consumes a character in the police station. That night, I was afraid to fall asleep, because I was convinced that the blob would somehow materialize in room, and I would suffer a similar fate. On another occasion, my mother was watching Saw 2, and she had no idea that I had snuck into the living room while the movie was playing (sorry, mom). My 8-year-old self was curious about what my mom was watching, and I definitely saw more than I needed to.

This theme of constantly trying to push my own boundaries and scare myself has continued into my adult years. Now, whenever someone describes a book or movie as “upsetting”, “disturbing”, or generally any other term that would typically convince general audiences to avoid these books/movies, I run into them headfirst.

I promise that my relationship with horror is not as self-destructive as it probably sounds. Horror has become my greatest comfort. I can’t exactly describe or even begin to understand WHY I find scary stories to be so comforting. However, I know that I’m not the only person who feels this way.

I’ve always dreamed of creating a space where I could share my thoughts on the genre that means so much to me. I hope you enjoy my ramblings as much as I know that I will enjoy writing them.

Let’s get creepy!

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