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Character as a Haunted House
What if your character was a haunted house? In this evocative metaphor, Aimee Hardy explores how to build emotional depth and complexity by layering secrets, fears, and façades into character development.
By Aimee Hardy
Establishing engaging and relatable characters is one of the most important parts of storytelling. Characters should have compelling backstories, relatable flaws, and fulfilling character arcs, but one of the best tools that I’ve learned about creating characters is to think of them like a haunted house.
Each house has a facade that everyone sees. This is usually the most complimentary view of the house. Passersby can admire the paint, the sweeping porch, and the manicured lawn. Everything is usually neat and tidy, and all its secrets are safely locked away inside. Even haunted houses look best from the outside.
Similarly, everyone sees certain aspects of a character. This is the image they present to society. It’s the suit jacket worn for status, the combat boots worn for protection, the high heels worn for seduction. It’s the gruff voice to establish dominance or the motherly coo to show nurturing, the helping hand they give when on the train or the kind words said at the gas station. These are the outward images that we must establish from the very beginning because they show how the character would like to be seen from the outside.
Friends are allowed access inside the house, however. Acquaintances are invited in and can see the common rooms. Those rooms are still cultivated, yet they are a little more intimate. As acquaintances become friends or loved ones, they are invited further inside the house. They see the dishes that have been piled in the sink, the laundry that is overflowing, or the tub that is in need of a good scrub. In a haunted house, we can see the evidence of ghosts. We can hear strange footsteps, feel cold spots, and see apparitions, but we can’t quite determine what is haunting the house.
Just as with houses, our characters will reveal more intimate details about themselves (and their own ghosts) as they make bonds with other characters and as we (the reader) get to know them in the story. We can see that they are kind by the way they treat their loved ones but that it hurts when no one says thank you. We can see that they are jealous of an adversary, but we can also see that it’s because they were never given the same opportunities to be great. We can see that they are smart but that they are terrified of losing their top spot. They become nuanced–both kind and resentful, jealous and righteous, smart and insecure.
Then, there are rooms in this haunted house that are so scary that the main character would not dare to enter. These rooms contain the worst secrets that will not leave us alone, and with characters, these rooms contain their deepest fears. The kind and resentful mother might fear that she isn’t worthy of being loved. The jealous and righteous bully might be afraid of being weak or controlled by others. The smart but insecure scientist might fear they are useless. The main character is haunted by these fears and can’t move on until they confront their ghosts.
So, when I write stories, I always ask what is haunting my main character. If they are worried that they have no identity, maybe they fill their “rooms” with collections. They might appear to know a lot of things in their search for their identity and might even adopt different identities as they interact with different characters. On the outside, they might overcompensate by wearing elaborate costumes or may even be so insecure that they only wear black. However you design your character, keep in mind that their house is haunted, and that in the end, their ghosts will have to come out.
Aimee Hardy is a writer and editor in Birmingham, AL. She is the author of Pocket Full of Teeth (September 2024 Running Wild Press). She has been published in Stonecoast Review, Running Wild Press’ Short Story Anthology, Havik2020, Bluntly Lit Mag, Adelaide Literary Magazine, and Lost Pilots Lit and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2020. She has a B.A. and M.A. in English from National University. When she’s not writing or editing, she enjoys going on hikes with her husband and two kids or curling up with a good book and a hot cup of tea. For more of Aimee’s work, please visit www.aimeehardy.com.
Horror with Character
In crafting the LIT horror series, the author dives deep into character-driven storytelling—building complex, imperfect individuals who blur the line between hero and victim. This is horror not just designed to terrify, but to reflect the humanity behind the fear.
By Mark Anthony
Many years ago, I had a bizarre and uncomfortable nightmare. One of those unsettling dreams that plagues when you wake. Hoping it won’t come back, it replays behind your eyes as you go to bed the next night. Whilst working as a Cancer Nurse, COVID decided to arrive, and I found myself living in a very unsettled, scared, world. From this, I decided to finally play with those scenes that had kept expanding in my mind. Quite naturally for me, my imagination began to weave them into a story. Building upon thought, creating visions and moments like jigsaw pieces which, as my mind was manifesting them, it was piecing them together to form complete pictures.
I have always been a storyteller and, on reflection, a fan of very specific stories. Whether written, or on screen, I have always been drawn to tales of normal people in extraordinary, otherworldly, situations. The archetypal stereotype of the determined hero, the ordained victim, and the clear win or lose motive, did not interest, or inspire my imagination. The tropes of the pure virginal hero and the twisted, ugly monster arguably had their time. The audience became desensitised to heads rolling. To blood, blood, and more blood.
However, the juxtaposition of a normality infected by a world of stark anomalies and extraordinary dangers enthralled me. The closer horror is entwined with reality, the more unsettling it can become. The harder it is to draw that line between fantasy and reality, between the good and the bad, the more horrific it can be. And a key aspect of creating this uncanny stage is the characters within it.
In the beginning, the first of the LIT novels started with the framework for one, single protagonist. Her physical appearance, her mannerisms, her voice were a mimicry of someone I already knew. A real, tangible person used as a blank sheet to add the vast amounts of color that would make her an intriguing, natural individual in this dark world that I planned to create. I had a rough idea of what would happen and how I would develop the atmosphere that would be humming throughout the entire story. Foreboding, bleak.
The first chapter was all about her. Intimate, and to be honest, as much as it was there to reveal her essence to the reader, it also served to plant my own seed of who this young woman was and would become. Strong, stoic yet selfish. Determination fuelled by self-absorption. Clever and manipulative.
In the third chapter, Sam was created. An amalgam of different people from my past. A dynamic young man, smart, candid, and irrepressible despite the horrors that hid within. A rebel within his own mind. Most people can relate to this. There to push against the inner demons with varying degrees of success. He was to be an open book, in stark contrast to the pure, but damaged, introvert of chapter 1. An openly gay man who demonstrated that we all have so much more in common with each other than not.
The second chapter, however, was an afterthought. I find it very interesting on reflection that he quickly became a reader favourite—a 9-year-old boy. A pure innocent. A character there to inject heart and yes, I will admit, give this horrific tale some balance. It is funny but I once had him described to me as the “pathos” of the story. . .and I felt largely offended! Yes, I was genuinely offended, not about this young character but. . .for this young character. However, he fulfilled the ‘pathos’ brief. A child who deserved no guilt, no fault, and no karma. Yet even he wasn’t going to be spared from the same terrifying existence as the others. He would experience the same losses and grotesque rules. Perhaps he would become the character that most people would “root for.” And they did.
Many people don’t notice that it takes quite a lot of time in LIT, before our three protagonists are there in the same space at the same time. Whilst writing, I had a concern. When these individuals came together, in the same space, would they all still be able to hold their own. To remain as equals. Each a fully formed 3-dimensional protagonists? Yes. By carefully keeping their characters in limbo, swaying between the macabre and the mundane, it creates a deep understanding of the individual that invests the reader in all three equally. When they come together, the reader’s familiarity with each of the individuals allows for an intriguing ensemble to develop that embraces the reader like a special treat.
With the three protagonists in play, each continued to have their own distinct storyline. That took a deal of planning, but more so, a need for intuition and an understanding of the people that had been created. As any writer would agree, after a time the characters are able to take on a life of their own. Their mannerisms, their reactions and even their dialogue begin to write themselves. Each of the above is paramount in giving the reader the feeling that they are gaining the gift of insight into someone else’s life, someone else’s thoughts, and feelings. And within the universe of LIT, someone else’s trauma, terror, and bravery. Why would they make the decisions they make? Take the path they chose in any given situation? Because that’s what real people do.
These three characters with their own unique afflictions demonstrated what I had learnt over the course of my life. No one is 100% good or bad. No one is either hero or villain. Every person has the ability to be brave, to be scared, to fight or run. Everyone is influenced by their own experiences, successes, and traumas. That is what I wanted to achieve in the LIT series.
Horror writers tell tales to scare, titillate and sometimes, simply to shock. I wanted to create a story that not only terrified the reader but also, moved them. The best way to achieve this was to give the true victims of evil a basis in our own reality. A small part of them will then resonate within each of us. Do you agree with their decision? No, but you understand why they made them. Do you like them? Sometimes, you won’t, but isn’t that just like real life?
Horror and suspense greatly benefit from the gift of thoughtful, natural character arcs. One grizzly scene set-up only to follow another fulfills just a small component of a memorable horror story. There is so much more that can be done to grasp the reader. Not only does strong character development prevent reader boredom, it enhances the intrigue of the ‘What next?’ It drives curiosity for the avid fan of dark writing and gives them protagonists that embody universal character traits. Traits that one can both relate to and be repelled from. It makes us question what would we do if faced with the same dilemma? Are we coward? Hero? Or a bit of both depending on the circumstance and drive. This is the task of the storyteller. Their reader is a guest, to be guided through our world. Our characters take them on a journey both from within and outside their mind.
Mark Anthony is the award-winning author of the supernatural horror series, “LIT” He lives in Perth, Western Australia with his husband and 9 year old son. Anthony began writing whilst working as a Cancer Nurse when the COVID-19 lockdowns commenced in 2020 and has since produced a sequel “ASCENT”. “RAGE” the third book in the series has an expected release for April 2024.

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