From suspenseful reads to literary tweeds…
My love of horror began early with family ghost stories and Maurice Sendak. One of my favourite books was Where the Wild Things Are, first published in 1963, and read fervently at our elementary school and at home. I was the one most often sent to eat at our phone table, a small desk built into the kitchen cupboards with a wall phone above it; I was also sequestered in my room like the main character in the book. We were all “wild things,” weren’t we?
In the 1970s, my friends and I would have sleepovers and watch horror movies at the midnight hour and later. You could always find something on whether it was Night Stalker or a black and white. We told each other ghost stories and even played with Ouiji boards, screaming, laughing and goofing around. Then arrived the book and movie, Jaws, and some of us are still having fears of swimming in the ocean or even a lake. I recall walking around the entire length of our swimming pool to ensure that no beasts waited for me in the depths. I even wondered if they could somehow come up through the drain.
We all gave a nod of acknowledgement when we heard that Maurice Sendak died this year. How powerful was such a small, simple book that adult eyes filled with sadness on hearing the news? What remained on our lips were soft smiles though, having once again remembered one of our favourite stories. Care to take four minutes of your day to watch the adaptation of the book below?