Why We Stay In The House That's Killing Us
The terrifying comfort of things that feel good but aren’t.
A few years ago, I learned we don’t always run from danger.
Sometimes we walk toward it.
Sometimes we live with it.
Sometimes we make it home.
And the scariest part is that we do it because it feels safe.
It sounds pretty counterproductive, but think about it: how many people stay in relationships that hurt them? Or chase highs that hollow them out? Or lose themselves in love that only loves the version of them that doesn’t say no?
How many of us have been in those situations? Maybe still are?
We talk about horror like it’s a monster in the woods. But, I’ve said it a million times, the horror I’m interested in is the kind that wears a mask. The one that makes you feel wanted, tells you you're special right before it swallows you whole.
That’s the kind of horror I’m writing in Glowrot.
And the entire basis for Sugarlung.
A twisted version of Hansel and Gretel
Sugarlung is a story about two twins.
One of them disappears into a world made of sugar, smoke, and softness. A gingerbread house you wouldn’t want to leave.
The other tries to pull her back, but how do you rescue someone who thinks they’ve found paradise?
It’s a sapphic psychological horror story. Of course.
A Hansel and Gretel retelling. A slow descent into a certain kind of sweetness that sticks to your ribs and fogs your brain.
If you’ve ever ignored red flags because they came wrapped in warmth, if you’ve ever surrendered to something that didn’t love you back, if you’re fascinated by the idea that pleasure can be the most seductive kind of horror, I think you’ll want to lose yourself on it for a while.
You can read it for free and have an exclusive first glance at Glowrot here!