How do you write scary books for younger readers that won’t traumatize them?

September 16, 2014

Guest Post by Eldritch Black

My client Eldritch Black’s debut novel for middle grade readers, The Book of Kindly Deaths, debuts today. It’s a scary cross between Neil Gaiman and Lemony Snicket for kids:

The title of this article came from a question that was posed to me because I wrote a book about monsters. So how exactly do you write a scary book for younger readers that won’t traumatize them (too much)?

One answer is the location of where the reader chooses to consume a dark and spine-chilling tale like The Book of Kindly Deaths. I’d advise against reading it in graveyards, dank musty basements or candlelit coffins. I’d also advise against reading it after midnight. Because the terror that may arise upon reading this book could cause the novel to duplicate. Like gremlins and water. And as much as I hope the book sells masses of copies, this seems like a low and dirty tactic.

Second is the temperament of the reader. If, for instance, they’re frightened by things like strangely shaped clouds and angry goats, or if discarded shoes on lonely roads gives them goosebumps, then scary books might not be for them.

The Book of Kindly Deaths is, however, ideal for the types of younger readers who spent an earlier childhood playing at monsters by baring their teeth and clawing their hands. Or younger readers who are simply real and proper little monsters. I’ve met a few, especially on public transport and in cinemas, and can confirm their existence.

If you think a reader might be terrified by a book that features monsters such as The Grims, a horrifying guild of ghoulish guardians who can materialize wherever they please, then The Book of Kindly Deaths might not be ideal.

Or the Wrong People, a cursed family of humans who dwelt in the Grimwytch (the world of monsters) a little too long. So long that they ended up being turned by the Grimwytch’s powerful moon and became dreadful creatures who like to bring children to their higgledy-piggledy homes. For feasts of cakes and rain. And terrifying shows.

And what about the Malefactrix? She likes to feed on people’s terror and wretchedness. Watch yourself if you ever meet her, or her ilk. You’ll most likely find them gathering under old bridges and dark haunted tunnels.

Those are just a few of the creatures that haunt The Book of Kindly Deaths, and none, it must be said, are remotely pleasant. They fester and ooze from darkness, and stalk and creep and do all manner of horrid things.

They are monsters, after all.

So how to write of such things and not send younger readers into a Lovecraftian world of insanity and doom?

The best way perhaps, is to show the reader (should they make it to the end of their dark twisted journeys through the novel), that as vile and insidious as these beasts are, they can be vanquished. My protagonist, twelve-year-old Eliza Winter has to learn this for herself and becomes somewhat of a heroine in the process.

And finally, a small comfort for anyone confronted by a monster, is to ask themselves why monsters lurk in the dark in the first place.

There’s a simple answer.

They’re just as scared of us as we are of them.

Especially when they’re trapped within forbidden, magical books.