Most of what I write is dark, and while it's not all horror, my stories usually contain elements of horror. Not so, said the muse. In the past few weeks I've written a few short stories of wry humor, another story I can only classify as literary, and a flash fiction piece another writer called a "hard-boiled piece of noir". I didn't set out to write these pieces, they just popped in my head and demanded to be told. I had a relative once tell me (after finding out what type of stories I write) "You are too pretty to have such dark things in your head.". I really couldn't explain it to her - I didn't set out to write dark tales. I write what the muse gives me, and most of her offerings are dark.
My poetry is not horror and never has been until last week. I've written two pieces in the last few weeks which I think fit that bill. One poem, Death Dreams from the Chair, is written from a serial killer's perspective before/during his execution. Horror or just horrible; I'm not sure. It wanted to come out, so it did.
Earlier today, Diana Lyles, of Scribblers and Ink Spillers posted a challenge on her blog, The Scribbling Sea Sprite. Said challenge was to write a story "with a plot about 'The purification of a love-struck groundhog suffering from cabin fever at Mardi Gras'". I read her post and laughed out loud. Then I read it again, and the muse whispered "come on, you know you want to". So I did. I'm not sure how I'd classify the story, but it's definitely not horror.
Ah well, it is what it is. Hopefully that line makes my beta readers chuckle, and maybe one day the rest of my faithful blog readers will know exactly what I'm referring to.
Since my last post, I've received two poetry acceptances, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for another good week.