by Heather Hein—
Greetings, Loyal Votarists!
It’s been a hellishly hot summer in Colorado, hasn’t it? I recently spent two weeks visiting my relations in Florida with my witchy feet (not my head) buried in the sand. Talk about a horror story! I now have a new appreciation for the phrase “well, it’s a dry heat.” I found myself wishing more than once for a set of gills like the Swamp Thing just so I could breathe. Now that I’ve returned, and the summer heat continues to burn like a house fire lit by possessed arsonists, I’ve had to summon all my willpower to keep from committing mass murder on the stupid, the inconsiderate, and the downright rude. Fun fact: Murder happens more often in the summertime. Hannibal Lecter preferred to eat the rude, why can’t I? (Oh yeah, prison!)
My outdated vision of incarceration is still that of Renfrew and his flies, so I’ve chosen to hide inside as often as possible, ruminating. I realized that, with few exceptions, vacations rarely go off without a hitch. As I sweat through my third shirt of the day, I ponder the important questions of life: why aren’t there more horror stories that take place on the beach? That whole cabin back in the woods away from civilization is an overused trope.
My sister and I escaped for a day to the beach to feel the breeze, smile at the sun, and take a dip in the cool water. Without warning, we were viciously attacked by the tiniest real-life vampires known to mankind! When those needle-nosed fuckers inserted their horrible little proboscises into our flesh, I flashed to that scene from IT where Patrick was beset upon by horror grade mosquitoes, leading to his bloody demise. My sister did not share these thoughts, but then, her brain isn’t haunted like mine.
As we ran for the theoretical cover of the bathrooms to change, I felt like I was in an 80s’ slasher flick as we were once again beset and stabbed repeatedly. While naked. I thought to myself, “If I don’t die here, this might make a great setting for a horror story!” The coolest thing was that it wouldn’t be just another boring trope. JAWS was great, but let’s face it. Sharks are just too obvious. In fact, when we were swimming that day, I saw several cruising through the shallows and thought nothing of it. Those mosquitos though…
With these devilish ideas in mind, my challenge to you, lovely devotees of the written word, to rethink the settings of your work. In this day of exhausting remakes, your writing will stand out if you think more creatively about where your stories take place.
A picnic in a faraway meadow could easily be turned into a story about a vengeful colony of space grasshoppers descending upon unsuspecting picknickers and consuming their human flesh instead of the crops of anguished farmers. Or maybe the pesticides those farmers used caused some catastrophic mutation and this is just payback. How about a marathon runner with some kind of undiagnosed, sentient brain tumor that awakens mid-race, torturing them by refusing to let them stop even after the race is over. Perhaps a quilting bee with hexed needles that stab out Gertrude and Flossie’s eyeballs before stitching “you’re next” in your sampler before coming after you.
Once you have your setting, take it a step further. Choose a villain one wouldn’t normally expect to discover. Make a pest more pesky. Mosquitoes that transform their victims into tiny, winged vampires? Everyone knows there’s a sexual attraction to Lestat from Interview With a Vampire, Jean-Claude, the head vampire in Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series, and David from The Lost Boys, but no one wants to be turned into summer’s bane. Kinda makes the idea of a flyswatter terrifying, doesn’t it?
My loyal coven-ites, consider the idea that setting be a character too! (See S. King, The Overlook Hotel.) The setting can even be your antagonist if you’re willing to commune with the spirits that make a particular place what it is. Using the setting as a character gives one the ability to toy around with changing a character who would have remained morally pure, had they not somehow opened the door to the terrifying soul of a place.
Precious Word Witches and Warlocks, next time you sit down to a shiny new idea, think of the most beautiful place you’ve ever been and turn it upside down like a bewitched snow globe. A tourist’s visit to the filming location of the Hobbit could become a rampage by tour guides turned Orc by the dark powers of Sauron. An idyllic canoe trip might come to a tragic end when mutant piranhas launch themselves from the gently flowing waters to consume the intrepid outdoor adventurers.
My psychic intuition hears some of you in the back mumbling that you haven’t really been anywhere beautiful. That may or may not be the case, and although long ago if a witch betrayed her coven, they would kill her, your indiscretion will be overlooked. For now. In this case, play around with the most mundane, least threatening thing you can think of. For example, picture a port-a-potty. Now picture some nefarious antagonist welding steel to all sides of it, shoving their enemy inside, and tipping it over in the hot, hot sun. (This one’s already been done, by the way.)
Think about some of the things we all do so routinely we never think about it. I had a dream as a kid about a man-eating garage door chopping off my sister’s big toe! (I’ve always been morbid, what can I say?) How about grocery shopping? For empathic witches like me, that’s already a horror story, but what if all the cuts of meat suddenly got thoughts of revenge in their heads, sparing only the vegetarians? Or the veggies grew monster vines and ensnared would-be shoppers to avenge their fallen brethren and sistren?
The next time your fingers stab the keyboard to midwife a fresh new idea, think about the setting with the scrutiny all those Puritans used when trying to decide which witch to burn first. Your readers will fall on their knees and worship your dark magic when you surprise them. I solemnly swear it! Remember, The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes actually got made into a movie that you can still stream today.
Stay cool my black cats and kittens. If you need me, I’ll be in the shower, STILL trying to exorcise the sand cakes from my feet.
Sincerely,
Your Favorite Sand Witch
HWA Colorado 