 I have a fear of horror films. Or, to be more precise, horror films terrify me. I’m aware that some people love to watch a horror film and enjoy a good scare. Not me. There’s nothing enjoyable about that pulse pounding sensation I’ve had, knowing that someone is gonna go all yellow-eyed and show a gaping mouth of fangs. Or some demonic entity is gonna curse in an inhuman voice. You get the idea. Even if there’s a trailer for a horror film on TV, I can’t watch. Listen, yes. Watch, no. I’m aware there might be an irony in a horror writer who’s scared of horror films. FYI, horror books don’t scare me. The only two I’ve found remotely unsettling are Stephen King’s ‘Needful Things’ for one particular scene, and Joe Donnelly’s ‘Incubus' - which still remains one of the best horror books I’ve ever read. Back to the matter. I’m the youngest of three sons. No sisters. Our induction into horror started with Hammer Horror films on Saturday nights. Every now and then, our dad would do a fry-up. The kitchen would smell of burgers and hotdogs and onions: the good stuff. And all four of us would sit down under the brightness of the overhead light and watch Dracula AD 1972, Curse Of The Werewolf, or whatever film it’d be. Hell, we even had an old school projector (which is still in the house somewhere). We had a couple of films for that on a projector reel. No sound though, but it didn’t matter. Black and white, but that didn’t matter either. Aside from the infamous ant film Them!, the first horror films I’d ever seen were on projector. One was Night Of The Demon, the other was The Hideous Sun Demon. Neither had any sound but the narrative was enough to draw me in. Even then, I knew the films looked kind of ropey, but they entertained. They certainly didn’t scare me. Some years later when I was about nine years old or so, and with the advent of the VCR, came a whole wealth of films that were available beyond the realm of terrestrial TV. Our oldest brother – always a horror fan – was a regular customer at Electrobug Video: a nearby shop that would charge a small fee for a two-day rental of a VHS tape. So he used to hire on Friday evening and return on Saturday afternoon. This worked out well enough, since Mama was a nurse who worked nights. Friday was her last night shift of the week, which left us three to watch the likes of Scanners, Rabid, An American Werewolf In London, The Kindred, Poltergeist, etc. And by this point, I’d seen that horror films weren’t such a laughing matter after all. Back then, I could just about stomach watching those films while my brothers were with me: whether it was David Kessler suddenly screaming and ripping his t-shirt open, or the guy in Poltergeist whose reflection tears its face off. Or Ralphie Glick hovering in mist and scratching at a window in the darkness. Even the music for that iteration of Salem’s Lot scared the shit outta me. Horror films had definitely evolved. I need to give a special mention to The Evil Dead, which was another one of those rentals from Electrobug Video from back in the day. Because I’d seen reluctant monsters (such as An American Werewolf In London) or evil monsters (such as Mike Ryerson in the rocking chair in Salem’s Lot), but The Evil Dead was different. Because monsters had evolved again – now they were malicious too. I remember hearing the trailer back then: “dare you see this film alone,” and then the infamous, “we’re gonna get ya…” Legendary. By this point, I’d seen too much horror, and I used to stay in my room until the film was ended and my brothers would tell me it was safe to come back in. There were exceptions though. John Carpenter’s ‘Halloween’ was one of them. For me, more of a dark narrative than a horror film. Not necessarily the best horror film I’d see, but a good one. The one thing that stuck with me from watching the film is that when Dr. Loomis arrives in the eleventh hour and shoots Michael, it should all have been a done deal. No. Loomis looks over the balcony, but doesn’t see a body - and that’s one of the horror tropes I love to play with: the monster gets away. So there’s the conundrum. I liked the dark narrative, but got scared of watching horror films. So my oldest brother would start to tell me what happened. And that was actually entertaining. What this actually impressed on me was the importance of outlining. I’m aware some authors do, some don’t. Outlining, for me, is that tool where if the bare bones entertain, then so should the full story – even more so. Years later, with the likes of Wikipedia, I’d read a plot/synopsis for a horror film, and that kind of outlining simply reinforced my thinking. When it came to John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’, my brother hadn’t told me the full plot, but had told me enough: the dog’s head splits open, the man’s stomach opens, etc. I remember asking him what the Thing looked like. And him telling me, ‘whatever it wants to look like.’ And me thinking, ‘what kind of stupid answer is that?’ At some point, I’d seen the poster with the Norris-head on the front, and the caption: “Look closely at your neighbour. Trust no one.” And the tagline: Man is the warmest place to hide. So that video, like so many others, made its way into our home – and it blew me away. To date, it’s my favourite film in any genre. As of last October, I finally got to see the film on the big screen. Not only did it still impress, but I also picked up on an additional clue about the film’s ending. For connoisseurs of the film, feel free to hit me up for the answer if you want to know and discuss. From an author point of view, what I’ve taken away from The Thing primarily is a sense of scene. There are scenes in the film that pan across rooms and corridors. As such, more of my work now has that cinematic approach, where I want you to feel like the camera is guiding you. It doesn’t matter whether I want to show you something or deliberately guide you past something and see if you spot it later when it becomes key. The scenery is as much a character as those that walk and talk. There’ve been instances in years since where I’ve watched a horror film, which thankfully hasn’t been so horrifying. I couldn’t wait to see 30 Days Of Night when it came out, and it didn’t disappoint. Again, more a dark narrative than a horror film, but no less entertaining. A far cry from walking in on my older brother and his then-girlfriend watching the David Cronenberg version of The Fly. You see, I’d always been able to watch the film just up until when Ronnie goes back to see Seth, and he’s walking with canes. He looked kinda human then. But when I walked in on my brother that time in the dark, Brundlefly was tearing himself out of dead human skin, and his eyes slopped out of his head. I remember the terror was so intense, my legs went weak. And only the fact that I managed to run from the room saved me from passing out. So, yeah. That’s the kind of disturbing work I want to bring to the table. Engage and entertain you. And maybe scare the shit outta you. ABOUT c.c. adams  London native C. C. Adams credits his oldest brother with showing him the world of dark fiction and horror through books, TV and film at an early age. On beating his first National Novel Writing Month challenge in 2009, C. C. decided to run with more of his ideas, now in publications such as the Crossroads In The Dark anthologies from Burning Willow Press, Weirdbook Magazine and Turn To Ash. A member of the Horror Writers Association, he still lives in the capital. This is where he lifts weights, practises kung fu, cooks - and looks for the perfect quote to set off the next dark delicacy. For more information on C.C. Adams please follow the links below C.C. ADAMS WEBSITE BUT WORSE WILL COME BY C.C. ADAMS Theodore Papakostas lives a normal life. Holds down a day job. Struggles with his weight. With women, he’s more ‘miss’ than ‘hit.’ He’s humble – a far cry from the bullying behaviour of his childhood. Days long forgotten. Almost. Something has caught wind of him. Something that warned Theo long ago that if their paths crossed again, Theo would not survive. And Theo’s world is turned into a waking nightmare: a struggle to stay ahead of the terror. Because all those years ago, sunset was just the beginning …but worse will come. 
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