The H in Horror Stands For Hope

Why You Need To Be Reading Horror Books Now More Than Ever

By Katelynn Jasper 

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It might be odd to say, but horror is my form of #hopecore. Most days, it feels like the nightmares don’t stop when I open my eyes in the morning to see articles and TikTok lives highlighting the terrifying and troubling state of the world. This is why I fill my reading moments with stories of final girls, survivors of zombie apocalypses, and demon vanquishers as a reminder that even in the grasp of a monster’s claws, survival is still possible. As it turns out, I am not alone in seeking out stories that make you sleep with the lights on when the world feels like a conglomeration of all the horror movies and books I’ve ever consumed. According to book sales data company Nielsen BookScan, in the first three months of 2024, sales were 34% higher than the year prior for horror books (Creamer, 2024). 

Whether you are new to horror, don’t think horror is for you, or also find yourself drowning in the dredges of less-than-great news stories, I encourage you to give doom reading a shot–over doom scrolling–this year. 

Don’t Let the Monsters Get You Down

In 2020, like most people, I experienced the true horror of a real-life pandemic. I was across the country from my family and working at a bookstore in Boston, where I faced the fear of getting sick and being attacked by angry, unhinged customers for asking them to wear a mask every day. Despite being surrounded by hundreds of books, none of the usual romance, fantasy, or literary fiction novels I had been picking up were doing it for me anymore when I desperately needed to escape. Then, one fateful day, I was putting new releases out for display and discovered Survivor Song by Paul Tremblay. The book focuses on two friends in Massachusetts, eight-months-pregnant Natalie, and pediatrician Dr. Ramola, trying to survive a rabies-like virus spreading rapidly and turning people into bite-happy, aggressive beings. When Natalie gets bitten, the two women must race against the clock to save not only Natalie’s life but also her baby’s.   

For the first time, I was reading a book with mention of streets, experiences, and monsters I could safely face and learn to survive. Most importantly, the story Paul Tremblay wrote had as much bite as it did hope weaved throughout, and I became a horror reader reborn with an insatiable hunger for more stories that were both the dark tunnel and light at the end. It turns out, the safety horror provides to explore our worst nightmares, comes with some pretty cool benefits. In a study from 2020, researchers explored the impact horror media has on increased resilience in viewers. hey found that fans of zombie and apocalyptic horror were more likely to be prepared for the Covid-19 pandemic, and, those who engaged with horror had less overall psychological distress. 

Five years later, in a time when horrifying headlines continually haunt my screen, I find myself once again feverishly turning towards horror books more than ever before. When I feel my blood boil over the despicable narrative President Trump puts out that marginalized people are monsters , I turn to works like Rachel Harrison’s Such Sharp Teeth and Stephen Graham Jones’s The Only Good Indians to be reminded that what others fear about you can be beautiful and a gift. Each time a racist raises their voice on social media, I grab Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark to dive back into the world of resistance fighters banishing demons that wear the white hoods of the KKK. And when I feel the presence of the ghosts of people I have lost to political and moral differences, I pick up Diavola by Jennifer Marie Thorne to remind me that ghosts have no power over the beautiful future one can create for oneself.

I am not alone in the ways that horror has impacted my life in a positive, meaningful . I posed the following question to fellow readers on my bookstagram, @buzzingaboutbooks, “In what ways does horror matter to you?” I heard from @germthebookworm how, for them, “Horror has helped me feel like I am not alone in thinking about dark topics and has helped me explore them in a way that is safe and can be put down/controlled.” While bookstagrammer @plandroreads shared that “horror helps me process trauma in the most satisfying and creative way possible :).” 

Horror has always been a safe space for anyone who feels like a misfit, and for marginalized voices. It’s a genre that says “Go ahead and scream.” At its very core, horror is about survival. As readers, we especially know that we can close the monster within the pages and walk away alive (at least we hope).

We Will Survive—And So Will Our Gory Stories

In current times, I find it more important now than ever to have stories that focus on the fact that no matter how bad it gets, you still have a chance to make it, even if you might be missing a limb or two in the end. 

The biggest threat to the monstrous stories that teach us to see ourselves in the final girl these days is not garlic or silver bullets, but something even more insidious, a rise in book bans. Here are a few ways you can ensure that we can keep this much-needed genre accessible:

Shop at your local indie bookstores.

There are so many great indie bookstores that not only carry horror books published by the Big Five (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, Macmillan, Hachette), but horror from smaller presses like Cemetery Dance Publications and Quirk Books. Some of my favorite horror authors, like Laurel Hightower, are published by smaller presses! I frequently visit my local bookstore in Portland, Oregon, like  Parallel Worlds Bookshop, when I need a new spooky read. 

Attend panels and events featuring horror authors.

This is a great way to get to know prolific and up-and-coming voices in the genre. It’s also the perfect opportunity to learn more about why writing horror is so important and the power it has in bringing us together. (BONUS: attending events also helps out your local bookstore!)

Review the horror books you read on platforms like Storygraph.

This is an especially important and helpful thing to do for BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ authors, as it signals to publishers to continue publishing and supporting those voices. While I can’t advise using GoodReads due to its ties to Amazon, it can be helpful to at least add the book to your ‘To Read’ shelf so that publishers are notified of interest in the book from readers which can lead to authors having more chances for future publishing opportunities. 

Educate yourself on the history of the horror genre and the topics it explores.

Lots of horror novels are written in response to real-life horrors like racism, genocide, and misogyny. So much of real history is left out of those dry high school history textbooks, which makes horror the perfect jumping off point to learn further about the terrifying parts of history you may not have known about before. With each story, horror authors bring light to the real monsters that need to be faced. 

Terrifyingly Hopeful Horror For Your TBR

A family of three finds the fate of the world in their hands when four armed strangers show up at the family’s vacation home begging to be let inside to save the world. What follows is a story of the power of queer love, the importance of choice, and the strength it takes to carry on after tragedy. It’s a story that reminds us that even when the apocalypse is happening, hope is on the horizon.

Piñata, by Leopoldo Gout

Carmen Sanchez and her two daughters, Izel and Luna, are spending the summer in Mexico for Carmen’s exciting job overseeing the renovation of an ancient cathedral in a posh new hotel. Despite Mexico being Carmen’s home country, the locals treat the Sanchez women like outsiders, and after a few too many issues on the job, especially one that almost injured Luna, Carmen decides to cut the trip short and return to New York. But things aren’t as they seem back home either, when Luna begins to act increasingly strange, and it feels like something dark and ancient is after the family. This is a story about the power of women, reclaiming what colonialism stole, and a mother’s indestructible love.

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Twenty-year old Rose lives a quaint life in her predominantly Christian small town, having family dinners and being a proud member of her faith and community. Everything seems picture perfect until she starts throwing up flies and having terrible visions of demons. Her desire to figure out what the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks is going on leads her to a secluded gay conversion camp called Camp Damascus, and for some reason Rose has the feeling she’s been there before, even if the memories don’t seem to be there. This is a story about queer joy and resilience when faced with ignorance and oppression. It’s about more than just facing your demons—it’s about banishing them straight back to the flames they came from and in the ashes finding your true self, a self that deserves only love.

Bad Cree by Jessica Johns

Mackenzie, a young Cree woman, is relentlessly haunted by dreams that force her to return to the moment before her sister, Sabrina, died. But with each dream, they begin to feel more real and Mackenzie’s waking world starts to dangerously mix with her dreaming world. In order to figure out how to put a stop to her nightmares and get answers for why she is being followed by crows all of a sudden, Mackenzie must return home to confront the dark secrets and legacy of violence that haunts her family, community, and the land they call their home. This story is a reminder that you can come out on the other side of grief. It captures the strength of tradition and healing power that can come from family.

I am Ai by Ai Jiang

Ai is a cyborg in a world that is all too eager to leave humanity behind in the name of efficiency and mechanical invincibility. Under the guise of an AI writing program, Ai struggles in a never-blinking city not only to keep up, but to survive. Despite being a short novella, this story packs a major punch. It is a reminder of what makes us human and the beauty in all of our differences and fragility. 


As a horror reader, my shelves and my #tbr are a testament to survival. Every scream deserves to be heard, even if they are my own after finishing another Stephen Graham Jones novel. So if you find yourself needing a little hope and inspiration for defeating monsters on days that feel more dreary than they do sunny, take a trip to your local bookstore’s horror section. I promise there is a scare there for everyone. 

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