How to write a horror novel: dread, rules and reveals

To write a horror novel, start with a specific fear, put a person with something to lose in front of it, and decide what the threat wants and what it cannot do. Dread builds from what the reader suspects, and each reveal should pay it off.

TL;DR

Horror works when a particular fear meets a character with something to lose and a threat that follows rules the reader slowly learns. Build dread with small wrongness, reveal in stages, and keep track of what the monster has done and what each person knows.

To write a horror novel, start with a specific fear, put a person with something to lose in front of it, and decide what the threat wants, what it cannot do and what it costs. Then arrange the book so the reader suspects more than they are shown. In his essay on supernatural horror, H. P. Lovecraft wrote that the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. A horror novel gives that fear a shape, a pace and a reason to turn the page.

For the general craft of drafting, see how to write a novel.

Start with a fear that is yours

Gemma Amor, a Bram Stoker Award nominated author writing for Jericho Writers, begins with a question: what scares you most? She keeps a list of her own fears and of things other people have told her about, and uses it as a starting point. Her example is a story about man-eating cows, born from the way cows stare when you walk through a field. Author Shayla Raquel, writing on Jane Friedman's site, gives the same advice: list what frightens you, then embellish it. If you fear confined spaces, a stuck elevator is not enough. Add a body.

A fear that is specific beats a fear that is generic. Take an invented book. Orsolya Carrow works nights in a hospice inside a converted textile mill. Her fear is not the dark but being the only person awake when something goes wrong. That single fear gives you the setting, the pressure and the lonely hours, and it already suggests a threat that only comes when no one is watching.

Build dread, not only shocks

Horror uses several tools, and they do different jobs.

ToolWhat the reader feelsHow it is builtRisk
DreadSomething is wrong and will get worseSmall details out of place, delay, a threat that is hinted atToo much waiting with no payoff
ShockA jolt of surprise or revulsionA sudden event, often after a quiet or sweet momentCheapens quickly if overused
UneaseThe uncanny, the almost rightFamiliar things slightly offNeeds a precise eye for detail

Scroll horizontally to see all columns. Arrow keys work when the table is focused.

Horror author Todd Keisling, interviewed on Jane Friedman's site, names Thomas Ligotti as the writer whose work oozes dread, and describes the effect as the feeling that something is slightly off and you cannot say what. His example is arriving home and knowing something is wrong, not because something is missing but because something is there that should not be. In an HWA interview, author Vincent Tirado says slow-burn horror should feel like being deeply cautious, because not everything is as it seems and by the time you find out, it is too late.

Raquel recommends a related trick for shocks: set one up with a sweet moment, then break it. She cites a scene in Chuck Wendig's Wanderers where a nostalgic story about spaghetti is cut off by something gruesome. A shock lands harder when the reader has relaxed.

Give your lead something to lose

Amor's advice is that bad things happening is not enough. You need context and, above all, motivation. Your main character should set out to achieve something and keep coming close to failing, and the stakes rise when they have more to lose, whether that is a child, a friend or a sense of who they are. She quotes Chuck Wendig on where the drama comes from: character mistakes and poor decision-making. Readers forgive a lead who chooses badly, because it is human. They do not forgive one who is stupid so the plot can move.

Kurt Vonnegut's tip, which Amor repeats, is to be a sadist: no matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them. Raquel pushes further, with advice to go past the point where the reader thinks it cannot get worse. Both are advice about escalation. Decide what the worst realistic thing is for Orsolya, then write the one after it.

Set rules for the threat

Readers fear what they can almost understand. The threat needs a want, a method, a limit and a price, even if the characters learn them slowly. For Orsolya's hospice, suppose the thing in the mill arrives only when the building has been silent for seven minutes, which is why the night staff keep a radio on. The rule gives you procedure, small rituals, and a scene where the battery dies.

Four questions are enough to write down before you draft:

  1. What does it want? Hunger, company, attention, a name.
  2. What can it never do? The limit that makes survival possible.
  3. What does it cost to resist it? Sleep, trust, a person.
  4. How do the characters learn the rules? Through mistakes, not briefings.

Amor says a villain needs a reason to be believed, and that a possessed doll needs a cause. The same applies to rules. If the monster changes its limits whenever the heroine is in trouble, readers feel cheated. How to create a magic system applies the same logic to any impossible power.

Plan your reveals

Decide how much of the threat the reader sees, and when. Raquel describes two approaches. One is to hold the monster back, as she says Jaws does: the full shark does not appear until one hour and 21 minutes into a two-hour film, and the anticipation does the work. The other is to show the villain early, as in Steve Cavanagh's Thirteen, where by the third line of the prologue you know Joshua Kane is a killer. The mystery of who becomes the dread of what he will do.

A reveal ladder helps in a novel, because a full-length novel needs several steps. One way to climb it, not a formula:

  1. A sign. An object or habit out of place.
  2. Proof. Something the lead cannot explain away.
  3. A rule. The pattern appears.
  4. A cost. Someone pays for ignoring the rule.
  5. The truth. The reader learns what it is, or learns they never will.

Amor is wary of formulas, and her warning is worth hearing. She says she struggles with prescriptive steps and feels that shoe-horning elements into a story for the sake of making it horror can dilute the result. Raquel's list of methods is more prescriptive. Both are useful if you treat the lists as questions to ask your draft, not boxes to tick.

Choose a point of view and a place

Amor notes that first person gives an intimate, conversational perspective and blurs fiction and reality, which is why stories on the r/nosleep subreddit are written exclusively that way. Third person lets you show more than one viewpoint at once, with a little more distance. Second person suits a predatory narrator.

For setting, both Amor and Raquel point to the ordinary made wrong. Amor lists clowns, children and birds as things that are not meant to be threats. Raquel sets a murder among cherry blossoms because the contrast stings more. Tirado notes that a confined setting makes interactions more fun to write because the characters are forced to deal with each other. A mill, a ferry or a cabin works for the same reason: there is nowhere else to go.

Choose an ending and look after the reader

Writers disagree on how horror should end. Rhoda Baxter, in an aside in Jericho Writers' romance guide, describes the horror promise as a scary book where the monster is defeated, at least for now. Raquel points to Paul Tremblay's The Cabin at the End of the World, where the reader decides who was right, and says that endings with more questions than answers can be more accurate to life. Pick the one that serves your fear, and make sure the choice looks deliberate.

Keisling quotes Max Booth III in LitReactor: horror is supposed to be dangerous, and it should be dangerous, but it does not have to be damaging. He agrees that trigger warnings should be handled case by case. Decide what your book will and will not put on the page, and tell readers what they need to know before they start.

Common mistakes

  • Opening with the monster. Open with the person and the first wrong detail.
  • Rules that bend. Write the limits down and test every scene against them.
  • Gore in place of fear. Shock fades. Dread stays.
  • A cast of targets. Give each person a want, so a death costs something.

Frequently asked questions

How do I start a horror novel?

Pick a fear you can describe in one sentence, choose the person who suffers most from it, and write the first scene where something small is wrong.

How long should a horror novel be?

Lengths vary by market. Average book word count compares genres, and checking recent debuts in your subgenre is the safest guide.

Do I need to scare myself to write horror?

Amor suggests starting from what frightens you, and Raquel says deep research can take a toll. Take breaks, and decide how far you will go on the page.

First person or third person for horror?

Either. First person feels intimate and unreliable, and third lets you cut between viewpoints. Choose by what the fear needs.

Does horror need a happy ending?

No, but it needs an ending that fits its promise. Some readers expect the monster beaten, and some expect a lingering question.

Where Musael fits

A horror novel keeps a ledger of what the threat has done, what each person has seen and what the reader has been told. In Musael the world and characters codex holds people, places and events, with a timeline that can include what the reader has not been told yet, and continuity checks compare who knew what and when against your scenes. The plan board shows point of view and status for each scene. On Ink and Press, an AI scene review gives notes on pacing and what each character wants, and never rewrites a line. Beta-reader links show the furthest chapter each reader reached, so you can see where the dread stopped working.

Sources

  • H. P. Lovecraft, "Supernatural Horror in Literature": hplovecraft.com
  • Gemma Amor, "How To Write A Spine-Chilling Horror Story", Jericho Writers: jerichowriters.com
  • Shayla Raquel, "13 Ways to Freaking Freak Out Your Horror Readers", Jane Friedman: janefriedman.com
  • Kristen Tsetsi, "Writing and Publishing Horror: Q&A with Todd Keisling", Jane Friedman: janefriedman.com
  • Tom Joyce, "Nuts & Bolts: Interview With Author Vincent Tirado", Horror Writers Association: horror.org
  • Rhoda Baxter, "How To Write A Romance Novel That Makes Readers Swoon", Jericho Writers: jerichowriters.com
  • Musael features: musael.com/features