Most horror films fail to scare me. I think "The Ring" plays more as a psychological thriller. It's smarter, there's more character development and some of the themes explored go a little deeper.
Through my mind, is just the horror of these people. I had been held by them, I knew how violent they were.
It's not scary to make a horror film because you get to pull back the curtain and see that none of it's real. When you're watching one, the terror bombards you.
I'm quiet, and I don't enjoy watching horror flicks, so am I like Zeke? No way.
I started off like everyone else does, slogging but having a compulsion to put words on paper. I didn't write or read horror or fantasy, other than children's fantasy, until I was in my teens.
I cannot say how strongly I object to people using other people's writing as research. Research is non-fiction, especially for horror, fantasy, science fiction. Do not take your research from other people's fiction. Just don't.
Readers respond to every genre intensely, if it's a genre that appeals to them. Again, who can say why anyone enjoys horror and dark fantasy? If I can't answer the question for myself, I wouldn't dream of trying to answer it for others.
If one book's done this well, you want to write another one that does just as well. There's that horror of the second novel that doesn't match up.
War is the ultimate reality-based horror show.
The specific story line that people have responded to the most has been the horror of bathing suit shopping.
Journalism can never be silent: that is its greatest virtue and its greatest fault. It must speak, and speak immediately, while the echoes of wonder, the claims of triumph and the signs of horror are still in the air.
I had grown up in a humanist atmosphere, and war to me was never anything but horror, mutilation and senseless destruction, and I knew that many great and wise people felt the same way about it.
I went see the horror thriller, Hannibal. I am a massive fan of Anthony Hopkins. He is superb in the film.
Few of us will forget the wail of mingled grief, rage and horror which rose from the camp when the Indians returned to it and recognized their slaughtered warriors, women, and children.
After the desperate years of their own war, after six years of repression inside Spain and six years of horror in exile, these people remain intact in spirit. They are armed with a transcendent faith; they have never won, and yet they have never accepted defeat.