“What Scares You?” Blog Series Starts Today

(Design & illustration by Robert Roxby)

The first of the “What Scares You?” guest blogs is about to go up for your creepy reading pleasure, so stay tuned!

These were the suggested writing prompts I gave the guest bloggers:

What’s one of the scariest books you’ve ever read?

What makes a story scary for you?

They were free to take those ideas wherever they led… So let’s see what they have to say!

And remember: Every guest blog that you comment on will give you an extra entry in the October 31 big Halloween giveaway—which includes prize packs of creepy books and ARCs from my publisher Penguin Teen! So comment away.

You can keep track of all the “What Scares You?” guest blogs with this tag.

(Illustration by Robert Roxby)
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2 responses to ““What Scares You?” Blog Series Starts Today”

  1. Hi Nova,

    I hope you give me the prize. 🙂 Or, I would love to someday do a guest blog on yer blog. But at the moment , my blog is a stream of consciousness, insane rant. Bad writing and crazy content. But I think the germ of my writings is okay, has some promise. There is hope. I am starting a writing group in the nest week. Some of the writers in this new (to me) group are published (um, nowhere super exciting, really) and some are not. The group accepts ppl of all levels. I did have to submit something, but I think I coulda submitted a grocery list and it woulda been okay.

    What scares me: *In Cold Blood* by Truman Capote. I took this book outta my local pl once, when I lived in a town that seriously could been the CApote town of this book. It took me a year to read the book. NOt sure why; mostly, I kept thinking it as gonna be boring. But then, like always, I did not have a good book to read. Frantic, I forced myself through its first chapter, and then I did not have to force anything except for making dinner and giving my then toddler son some attention. The book amazed me. What scare me in the book, and what continues to scare me when I think about it is the fact that irrational cruelty is a constant in nature. I think it is in all of us, though for most it is scarcely there, and way down deep. But for some, it is clear, lucid, always on the surface; it is waiting. And really, nobody is safe from this.

    I love yer blog, Nova, and also love yer guest bloggers. It is hard not to be jealous of you, as yer so gd young to be this cool! I adores reading about Rosemary’s Baby. And I think Go Ask Alice was a great example, though it is a little Nancy Reagan, scare tactic and not really written in with a harm reductionist ideology… I will never forget though, reading about ALice’s freaking trip where she pulled off one of her fingers (right?) during a “trip” where she as locked in the closet. I can admit this as an adult with my pseudonym/blogger handle: I have done every single drug except aid, and I think my reasoning stems from being scared by this book as a middle school reader. 🙂



  2. Hello…

    It’s redundant to point out that I’m not one of your guest bloggers… But being in the Halloween spirit – no pun intended – I’ll let you know what scares me anyway 🙂

    In one word: Myself.

    I am one of those very nice people, to whom bad things have happened to, that the world is seemingly so overpopulated with. I sometimes cry during dramatic scenes, and even stupid TV commercials – PMS – and inwardly “aww” while watching cheesy films. Always willing to lend a hand. Sweet disposition most of the time.

    But there is this other side to me. The product of restrained anger, unexpressed annoyance and repressed outbursts. My Inner Villain, if you will.

    IV doesn’t come out to play often, but she certainly likes to wreak havoc whenever she does and Nice Me is always left to deal with the consequences. Nothing really serious or Mike Myers-like but still emotionally destructive nonetheless. Which, perhaps, could explain my morbid fascination with all things dark and unknown.

    I’ve learned to grow, surviving each turning point with surprising ease. But being an adult now, at this point, I’ve gotten kind of good at ignoring the sounds of her tantrums at being held in check. Something that leads me to nonsensically fear that I’ll one day develop a small degree of autism in my tireless quest for her silence. For some semblance of peace and quiet. For a fake calm to mask the sounds of all the bad choices I’ve made and the stirrings of my overbearing guilty conscience powered by her.

    I battle IV constantly, fighting to stop the her anger from taking over and pulling me back down into the abyss of all the bad feelings I try so hard to keep locked inside. But then there are the rare instances in which I succumb again – self-exiling to some lonely corner – embracing the cliché.

    Thus, what scares me is the possibility of becoming the victimized villain of my own little sad existence.

    Well that… and the really freaky kid-eating clown from the It movie ^shudders^


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