Fear

The test of a good horror story is whether it gets you uncomfortable about the space you are in. You know a tale has worked when you start glancing uneasily at the window and imagining, almost actually seeing, a pointlessly distorted face pressed up against the glass.

The last time I was disturbed by a book in this manner was when I read The Shining. I didn't even like having the paperback in the room, other than when I was reading it. Also, now I come to think of it, when I read Peter Straub's Ghost Story - though the sense of unease wasn't sustained as it was right to the last word of King's masterpiece.

I haven't read anything in the second volume of American Fantastic Tales (edited by Straub, by the way) that's made me even glance at the windows. Straub's own story left me indifferent, whilst the King offering though good in its way struck me as something of a literary exercise. Oddly, the story that I've enjoyed the most (so far, got another six or sven to read) was Joe Hill's Pop Art - genuinely moving. This was odd only insofar as Mr Hill is Mr King's son and I've read comments by King on his children before, when they were definitely children, so it's odd to think of him as an accomplished author in his own right.

Maybe that in itself is the really frightening thing.