These past few weeks, I have been listening to a certain podcast about supernatural stories. Many of the episodes seem so real that it’s hard to know which ones might have actually happened and which ones are just made up. The fact that real experiences may be interspersed with fiction scares me the most. Although, there’s a chance that all of it is made up, and I just didn’t read the forum’s fine print. Either way, I can’t really get myself to listen to the podcast alone or at night. It’s great for long commutes, though.
Listening to these stories remind me of a time when I used to gush about everything in the horror genre. I used to save up to buy horror-themed novels, even though they’re usually TV tie-ins. I was only able to buy a few of them, leading me to read and reread books about certain episodes of “Charmed,” “Angel,” or “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” At BookSale outlets, I was drawn to novels with dark-colored covers, blood-like font types, and sinister synopses. I was so proud of my finds, which I usually circulate in my high school classes. I can still remember feeling devastated when I lost my copy of the Devil in Connecticut after it had been passed around. Stephen King, of course, played a huge role in this fascination although I wasn’t able to read as much of his titles as I would have wanted to as a kid. His novels are far too expensive for a high school student like me. I was fortunate to have borrowed one of his novels from my cousin while on summer vacation. I don’t think I let that book down for a minute. That was when I realized that I am deeply interested in reading about the macabre, especially when they are written well.
Now that I think about it, these horror-filled pages were the ones that piqued my interest in reading and writing. There is something attractive about venturing into the unknown; there’s something cathartic about immersing in a world of questions and emerging with answers. While these stories may really keep me up, I guess, that’s a small price to pay. Besides, in real life these days, it’s getting harder to know which ones actually happened and which ones are just made up. In a way, the supernatural feels more natural. Imagine that. There’s no sleep tonight, after all.