An instructor at Seton Hill University asked me during a discussion, how atmosphere is important to ghost stories. The questions was specifically geared toward writing; however, as I constructed my response, I started wondering how atmosphere plays into other mediums as well – such as movies, and for the purposes of this post, table-top gaming.

I’ve ran table-top role-playing games for over 16 years now. I’ve ran games such as Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 2nd ed, Dungeons and Dragons 3rd ed, Deadlands (Weird West and Hell on Earth), Vampire, Star Wars, Legend of the Five Rings, Pathfinder, and many more. Throughout my career running these games, I’ve tried at times to incorporate horror into the gameplay. As many times as I’ve tried, I think I’ve failed at successfully scaring or creeping out my players more than I’ve succeeded.

It got me thinking though, what was different about those handful of times that I had my players on edge. What worked in those sessions that failed in others? I think it was atmosphere. I created an atmosphere that pulled my players into the game and made them feel like they were really there.

Two distinct sessions come to mind when I think of the successful horror adventures I’ve ran in the past. The first dealt with the players on an abandoned island. While the crew of the ship worked on fixing damage to the
hull, the players were tasked to scout for supplies. Their searching led them to a ruined wizard’s tower. In the tower, was a demon who hunted the players a la Predator or Alien style. Hitting them one-by-one from the dark. I succeeded in this game due to the fact that I made them feel isolated and alone. I never revealed the creature until the final moment, they only caught glimpses as it moved along the walls. The isolation and fear of the unknown pulled them into the story.

The second session dealt with a small village where people were going missing. The players had to investigate a haunted cottage to find clues that led them to the mayor’s manse. The mayor had kidnapped the townsfolk to
feed his son who was trapped in the basement. The son had turned into a ghoul due to his messing with blasphemous magic. Once again this session worked because of the atmosphere. I made the players believe they were in a small dreary town where the inhabitants were scared to come out after dark. And once again the reveal didn’t happen until the end.

So if dissect these two scenarios and apply them to atmosphere and horror, I think we can agree that fear of the unknown adds to the atmosphere. Apply this to your writing. Don’t reveal your big baddie too soon if
you are trying to maintain suspense. Also, use the setting to add to the atmosphere. Isolation works great, dark and dreary works great. But you need more than just setting to pull it off. Add character to your setting by instilling that sense of fear or dread into your town, city, village, house, etc. Little things can help pull off the big
picture.

According to Merriam-Webster, horror is, “a painful and intense fear, dread, or dismay.” Doesn’t really sound too appealing, so why do we like it? Is it the adrenaline rush that fear brings on? Or is the ability to mentally
check out and enjoy the rollercoaster ride? Personally, I find the feeling of fear and dread invigorating. For me, the fear makes me feel alive! Plus, on an intellectual level, I love playing the “what if” game when it comes to the subject matter. What if that was me? What would I do differently? 
 
What do you consider horror in entertainment? What works, what doesn’t? What qualities or characteristics are necessary for these mediums to be considered horror? These are all questions I’ve been exploring with the Facebook community as of late.

I think the term horror itself is a very broad. Just like everything else, there are a lot of sub-genres in the horror niche. When I asked, what kind of horror stories people enjoyed, I received answers such as Asian horror, chupacabras, Orson Scott Card’s “Lost Boys”, to real-world isolation/lost-in-the-woods-about-to-die-from-the-elements-and-my-cellphone-doesn’t-work type stories. Delving further, I asked, what qualities make a good horror story. I received answers such as humor, ability to relate realism, suspense, humanist, emotion and great characterization/plot to name a few.

One characteristic that came up the most was the ability to relate. I tend to agree on this point. I think pure horror works best when it could happen to you. Whether it is a slasher, or a haunting, or a good old fashioned monster flick, if it involves people and places that the consumer can relate to, it hits home quickly. It invokes that fear that the character portrayed could be you, that the noise in the darkness maybe isn’t just the wind or the house settling. Then the “what if” starts to make an appearance and that’s when the magic of entertainment happens.

During one of my college workshops at Seton Hill University, a teacher challenged what main theme we constantly wrote about, whether consciously or unconsciously.  After a little thinking, I noticed that my theme was about separation or loss of loved ones. A lot of my stories involved the main character either trying to reunite with family, or dealing with the fallout of losing family. I’ve come to grips with the fact that this is one of my major fears as well. For me, I’m afraid of losing loved ones. Stories or movies that play on that theme
really hit a chord with me.

In conclusion, I challenge all of you out there. What scares you? Now go write about it!

During my last residency at Seton Hill University  (MFA for Writing Popular Fiction), a question was posed to the audience; in a  nutshell it pondered on the art vs. the craft of writing. I’ve heard from  various people that you can’t teach an author. That, at birth, they will have  whatever creativity they are going to have.
 
While I agree with this to some extent, I think  that without craft and learning, those authors won’t reach their full potential.  Creativity is the fuel for the machine that is the writer’s craft. Schooling is  important to fine-tune that machine so that the writer can get the best  performance possible.
 
For example, I’ve read many stories that were  written very well, almost perfectly, but the story lacked that certain something – that spark that set my imagination on fire. On the flipside, I’ve also read  stories that were very imaginative and sucked me in, even if the writing itself  was sub-par. As a reader, I can deal with either of those types of novels, but  I’ll never call them favorites. The stories that really grab me have it  all.
 
Just like everything else, writing takes practice,  and the more you do it, the better you will become. The better tools you have,  i.e. schooling, critique groups, conferences, and conventions, the better you’ll  be able to craft and mold that creativity into something great.