What Writing Horror Has Taught Me: Practical Tips for Creating Stories That Linger

By Andy Zimmer

When I first began writing horror fiction, I assumed fear came from obvious places—monsters, violence, or shocking twists. Over time, through writing short stories and experimenting with tone, pacing, and atmosphere, I discovered something far more important: the stories that stayed with readers were rarely the loud ones. They were quiet, restrained, and unsettling in ways that were difficult to immediately explain.

This article draws from my own experience writing short-form horror and creative fiction, alongside established research and commentary on horror as a literary genre. Rather than offering rigid formulas, it focuses on practical lessons learned through writing, revising, and observing how readers respond to fear-driven narratives.

Horror Is Rooted in Discomfort, Not Shock

One of the most consistent lessons I’ve learned is that horror does not rely on shock value alone. Fear tends to emerge from discomfort—situations that feel wrong, unstable, or unresolved.

In my own stories, readers often respond most strongly to subtle moments:

• A character noticing a familiar space behaving differently

• A memory that conflicts with present reality

• A realization that arrives too late to stop what’s coming

Literary scholars have long noted that horror functions best when it disrupts the familiar rather than introducing something entirely foreign (Carroll, 1990). From a practical standpoint, I’ve found that grounding fear in recognizable emotional experiences—uncertainty, isolation, or loss of control—creates longer-lasting impact than overt spectacle.

Atmosphere Comes Before Plot

When I approach a horror story, I do not begin with plot. I begin with atmosphere.

Atmosphere establishes trust between writer and reader. Without it, even well-constructed scares feel hollow. In practice, this means paying close attention to sensory cues:

• Sounds that lack clear sources

• Lighting that obscures rather than reveals

• Silence that feels deliberate

Many of my horror pieces rely on familiar domestic spaces—bedrooms, hallways, kitchens—because readers already understand how those spaces should feel. When something subtly disrupts that expectation, unease follows naturally. This aligns with Gothic and modern horror traditions that position fear within everyday environments (Punter & Byron, 2004).

Pacing Is the Primary Tool for Fear

Early in my writing, I rushed toward the “scary part.” Over time, I learned that fear needs time to develop.

Pacing allows the writer to control emotional tension:

• Slower pacing builds dread and anticipation

• Sudden shifts create panic or shock

• Silence can be more effective than action

In short horror fiction especially, pacing replaces exposition. I often allow scenes to linger just long enough to become uncomfortable, delaying explanation or resolution. This technique mirrors what King (2000) describes as letting tension “stretch” until the reader becomes complicit in the fear.

Characters Must Feel Vulnerable to Feel Real

Horror is experienced through character. If a character feels invulnerable or emotionally flat, fear loses its weight.

In my own work, I focus on characters who:

• Doubt their perceptions

• Hesitate or rationalize danger

• Carry unrelated emotional baggage

These imperfections mirror real human behavior. Research on narrative empathy supports this approach, showing that readers engage more deeply with characters who display psychological realism and emotional inconsistency (Keen, 2007).

Fear becomes believable when characters react imperfectly—because that’s how people actually respond to stress.

Restraint Is More Powerful Than Explanation

One of the most difficult lessons to learn as a horror writer is when not to explain.

The more clearly a threat is defined, the less frightening it often becomes. In my experience, readers are far more unsettled when they are forced to interpret events themselves. I frequently rely on:

• Reactions instead of causes

• Aftermath instead of action

• Suggestions instead of answers

This approach aligns with long-standing horror theory, which emphasizes ambiguity as a central driver of fear (Lovecraft, 1927/2019). Leaving narrative gaps invites readers to project their own fears into the story.

Language Shapes Emotional Response

Word choice matters deeply in horror. In my writing, I deliberately adjust language based on emotional intensity:

• Short, direct sentences during moments of panic

• Repetition to reflect fixation or anxiety

• Abrupt sentence breaks to interrupt thought

Overly ornate language can distance the reader from fear. Clarity and immediacy tend to feel more authentic—and authenticity makes horror believable.

Endings Do Not Need Resolution to Be Effective

Some of my strongest horror endings do not resolve the central threat. Instead, they confirm it.

Horror endings often succeed when they:

• Reframe earlier moments

• Deny comfort or closure

• Leave consequences unresolved

From both personal experience and genre analysis, I’ve found that ambiguity encourages stories to linger in the reader’s mind. As Punter (2012) notes, horror often functions as a confrontation rather than a conclusion.

Conclusion

Writing horror has taught me that fear is subtle, personal, and rooted in human experience. Effective horror does not require elaborate monsters or graphic scenes. It requires patience, attention to atmosphere, believable characters, and trust in the reader’s imagination.

The stories that linger are not the ones that shout.They are the ones that leave something unfinished.

Works Cited

Carroll, N. (1990). The philosophy of horror, or paradoxes of the heart. Routledge.

King, S. (2000). On writing: A memoir of the craft. Scribner.

Keen, S. (2007). Empathy and the novel. Oxford University Press.

Lovecraft, H. P. (2019). Supernatural horror in literature. Penguin Classics. (Original work published 1927)

Punter, D., & Byron, G. (2004). The Gothic. Blackwell Publishing.

Punter, D. (2012). The literature of terror (Vols. 1–2). Routledge.

Zimmer, A. (2024). Selected short horror fiction and creative writing works. Unpublished author manuscripts.