# Why horror should make you feel unsafe
Eric LaRocca published a guest editorial to mark the release of his new novel, We Turn Gruesome At Night. He uses the piece to argue that too much contemporary horror has become cautious: stripped of the mess, limits, and moral ambiguity that once made the genre restless and dangerous.
# Why much modern horror feels tame
LaRocca traces the problem to publishing dynamics. He describes seeing manuscripts that feel redacted or censored, and he links sanitization to publishers' and major retailers' worries about offending readers or refusing to stock a book. The result, he argues, is a glut of horror that avoids being messy, depraved, or transgressive.
He isn't dismissive of all mainstream work. Instead, he notes that the most unsettling, unflinching work increasingly appears in the small-press space, where writers can take risks without the same commercial constraints.
The kind of horror LaRocca prizes does three things:
- It creates a sustained moral and emotional discomfort rather than relying on shocks.
- It tackles complicated, uncomfortable material without self-censorship.
- It feels, in his words, like reading something that could be off-limits.
He describes the pleasure of feeling unsafe while reading — a thrill tied to the perception that the book is transgressive.
# Books and writers LaRocca highlights
LaRocca names several recent works and authors that match his ideal.
- Hedgehog by Maggie Koons: described as one of the most unflinching and difficult debut novels he's read.
- Jess Hagemann's Mother-Eating: singled out as disturbingly nasty.
- Emma E. Murray's Shoot Me in the Face on a Beautiful Day: called uncompromising and disturbing in its examination of obsession and decay.
- Alison Rumfitt's Brainwyrms and Alex Gonzalez's Rekt: noted as examples of subversive work published at larger presses.
He emphasizes that writers like these still exist, but they represent a minority compared with the more sanitized output he encounters.
# The trade-offs of commercial caution
LaRocca frames publisher and retailer caution as a structural force shaping what gets published and widely distributed. When the market penalizes material that might offend, authors and editors face pressure to self-censor. The consequence is fewer books that truly push boundaries or make readers feel morally implicated or unsettled.
# A case for messy, problematic art
LaRocca is explicit about his preference: he wants literature that is messy, complicated, and sometimes disturbing. He acknowledges that not every book needs to show explicit horror, but argues the genre should be willing to aim for the more depraved and disquieting territory rather than avoiding it.
# Takeaway for readers and writers
LaRocca's editorial is a plea for risk — for horror that refuses to feel safe, and for a publishing environment that allows those risks to reach readers.