1. I grew up with a mother who knew all the ways you can die. “Don’t eat so fast; you can choke on your food–and die. Hold onto the railing when you go down the stairs; you can fall, break your neck–and die. Look both ways before you cross the street; you can get hit by a car–BAM!–and die.” Etc., etc. Hellllo, Anxiety Disorder! Where have you been all my life, you sexy beast?

2. I am somewhat of an expert on bad decisions. Did you know me in my 20s? Shhh. We’ll be as silent as the grave… If you will just follow me? I know it’s dark and narrow here. After you, I insist. 

Seriously, though, I bequeath my ability to make bad decisions onto my characters. I got lucky and got a story. They got… something else.

3. People generally make me want to kill/traumatize them. And I like to fantasize about it. A lot. It’s what keeps me sane and happy. So what’s therapy for me ends up being story-candy for the horror-junkies out there. And I do so like to get om-nom-nominous.

4. There is much fear in me. I tried being a Sith lord but that didn’t work out. I even had a name picked out and everything–Darth Ertia. Basically, it means I sit around and think evil thoughts but never get around to doing any of it. (Darth Vader/invader… Darth Ertia/inertia? You get it.) Anyway, since “sharing is caring,” I thought it would be best to scare others with that which frightens the hell out of me. Think of me as that one roommate that pulls something funky out of the abyss of the fridge and says, “this smells sick! Here, take a whiff!” And you do my bidding and wonder why later.

5. Because it’s FUN, that’s why! And that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Having fun until you die. Which you will. Maybe soon. In my short story. Because you didn’t like this post. Or comment. Or some other offense I won’t tell you about. Because I am a brat.

Well, that’s it. My top five reasons I write horror. I hope you enjoyed this post. Like my page for more!

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