What the Horror Genre is for me

Horror movies do for me what few other things can. They hold my attention better than most other things these days and afterwards install in me a sort of catharsis. Though I might have a hard time going to sleep or turing the lights out at first, later there is a sense of calm as my subconscious realizes that such things cannot occur in real life. I feel perhaps just a bit more hopeful for humanity than I did before, and I learn further how to write well through the experience.
My mother has never understood my love for the horror genre. Then again, she’s only recently been able to sit through the Battle for Helm’s Deep in Lord of the Rings. As a child, her experiences with horror movies were her being dragged to the drive in where she cowered in the back seat until her older sister kicked her out of the car, whereupon she would look for some neighbours to take pity on her and allow her to cower in their back seat.
I might have some deep hidden love for the macabre and horrifying, I’m not sure. All I know is that I can watch, listen to, or read something scary and not look away, but the moment I start to play a game that really scares me I’ll wimp out and shut it off. It’s strange. I enjoy watching the horror unfold before me, but I cannot stand to play it out myself. Player-character empathy, I suppose.
Either way, I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to watching horror, even if I might be a bit jumpy. Gore, nudity, and violence, however, are another matter entirely.

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