Ciao, SEers. Staci here. It’s October, which means I’m getting more than my fix of all things horror. I love the genre… the tingling sensation on my spine, the chills on the back of my neck, the racing pulse. I read and watch horror for the abject thrill of it all.

Unfortunately, because I’m an editor by trade, I have trouble turning off my inner critique-mode, and I watch and read this genre with a metaphorical red pen in my hand.

Film has a few tricks at its disposal that the written word can’t capitalize on. Writers can’t use a creepy soundtrack to build tension. They can’t use camera angles and dim lighting to mount suspense. (And yes, I realize some of that is POV, but the POV character can’t notice something he or she isn’t supposed to see… like the chainsaw-wielding psychopath standing in the shadows just outside the door.)