Scare Me. Please.

Author Joshilyn Jackson mentions in one of her posts how this was the "Year of Abduction Fiction" for her.  She lists her top three reads that all concerned long term abductions.  I'd have to say the same goes for me.  I enjoyed Laura Lippman's I'd Know You Anywhere.  I raved here about Chevy Steven's Still Missing.  And I was recently blown away by Emma Donoghue's amazing novel, Room. 

Great writers and writing aside, why do I enjoy these kinds of stories?  Why do I enjoy those end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it novels and movies?  Why do I enjoy creepy horror books and films?

Do I think they'll give me tips if I'm ever (God forbid!) in those situations?  Let's get real.  If a meteor crashes into earth or a band of zombies is eating its way through the United States, you'll find me curled up in a ball in some corner either weeping or wondering how I'd taste to the undead. 

Maybe it's because reading those books and watching those movies from my bed or the living room couch makes me feel safe.  It's easy to yell "Don't go in the woods!" at some stupid teenagers while I cower behind my husband's arm.   And I can always shut the book or turn off the TV.  Right?  Right?

Wrong.  Images from the books I mentioned above are going to stay with me for quite awhile.  That's the power that all well-done stories - scary and otherwise - have over us.  I don't know about you, but I, for one, am happy to let them.