How does a house become haunted?
Each haunted house has its own story, and each person has their own reasons for becoming dependent on alcohol.
“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against the hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
-Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House
I’m kicking off a new feature of this newsletter where I’ll be diving into addiction education and holistic recovery practices. I will also illustrate how you can use horror movies/books as a way to enhance your sobriety journey—because taking care of your mental health is a wonderful thing, and it needn’t disrupt your identity as a goth nerd.
In this first chapter, I’m going to talk about haunted houses and addiction theories. I’ve chosen these topics because I think the questions, “Why am I addicted to alcohol?” and “Why is this house haunted?” actually have a lot of overlap.
I broke this chapter up into 3 parts because it became an unwieldy length. So today, I’m going to talk about haunted houses. In Part 2, we’ll go through some clinical addiction stuff, and then it will all tie together at the end in Part 3! Stay with me on this one.
Haunted Houses 101
I love haunted house stories. And even though I’ve seen it done again and again, I have never gotten bored with it. Each time, I’m impressed by the creative ways that writers bring out the horror of such a seemingly simple concept.
So, what defines a haunted house? Typically it’s a structure, usually a residence, that is inhabited by a single entity or by multiple ghosts. These forces may remain unseen, or they can show themselves quite clearly. They may be silent, they may communicate telepathically, or they may talk to you face to face. They might play cute games with you, slowly and subtly drive you crazy over time, or in some cases, directly reach out and physically harm you.
If you live in a haunted house, your options are pretty much:
Defeat/exorcise the ghost
Die
Destroy the house
Side with the entity
You could also cut your losses and move, but that doesn’t make for a very good story.
By the way, if you believe the house you live in is actually haunted in real life, it’s most likely a gas leak, and you need go outside into fresh air and call the gas company asap.
The big 5 haunted house origin stories.
1. Past bad stuff.
The most straightforward and most popular haunted house origin story is that of the “scary past.” Many times, a murder or tragic event leaves behind a ghost who is either vengeful (The Grudge, The Woman in Black), or desperate for someone to complete unfinished business (Bag of Bones, Come With Me). Usually, when you hear about some famous haunted landmark it’s because people died there under unpleasant circumstances—like the legend of the old abandoned “insane asylum” every state seems to have.
In other stories, the previous tenants were up to unnatural shenanigans and they caused the house to become evil (Hell House). Either way, the protagonist is usually innocent and has not done anything to cause the haunting, other than occupying the house.
Other examples: The Haunting of Hill House, Widow’s Point, Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Turn of the Screw, A Winter Haunting, Heart-shaped Box, Episode 13, and many, many more.
2. The old “Indian burial ground” excuse.
The Indian burial ground (IBG) trope was popular in the 70s and 80s and it’s a convenient way to explain why a place is haunted. After all, you’re sitting on top of angry ghosts! Or, perhaps there’s an IBG at the top of the hill—bury your dead cat/son/wife there and they’ll come back.
The interesting thing is, the whole concept of the “Indian burial ground” is completely inaccurate. And once you start pulling the threads, there’s quite a lot to unpack.
As Dan Nosowitz writes, “Pre-Columbian peoples identified as hundreds of totally different communities, families, or nations, without very many similarities between them. That extended to the burying and treatment of the dead; in some arctic communities, the dead were simply left on the ice to be eaten by predators (what else are you going to do up there?), whereas other groups practiced more familiar burial forms ranging from mass graves to careful and solemn burials to burials performed quickly and with great fear of the corpse. The IBG concept is wrong right from the get-go; depending on how you look at it, there’s either no such thing or an unending variety of them.”
In Kier La-Janisse’s sprawling folk horror documentary, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched, journalist and horror buff, Jesse Wente, explains the origins of the trope, “The thing colonial states fear the most is to be colonized. It boils down to an innate fear that someone is going to come and take your home from you.” says Wente. "I'll tell you one other thing about the Indian burial ground, though, that I sort of like it because if non-Indigenous people are going to be afraid of the Indian burial ground, then I got news for you. It's all Indian burial ground."
It's worth noting that encroaching on non-Indigenous burial sites can cause issues too, as Poltergeist and The Graveyard Apartment both illustrate.
Other examples: Pet Semetary, The Amityville Horror
3. Wait, am I haunted?
In some haunted house stories, there’s a character that is the catalyst for the hauntings, either because they are possessed by the ghosts, they are an unwilling conduit for the ghosts, or their presence makes the entity stronger. This role tends to be reserved for women and children, and usually nobody believes them until it’s too late.
There are also times when the main character is revealed to be the biggest creep of all and… there aren’t actually any ghosts. This is never a fun revelation for the protagonist, but it sure makes for an entertaining read!
(Not listing examples because it would mean spoilers.)
4. A little bit a this, a little bit a that.
Writers may also just throw a lot at the wall to see what sticks, like in The Shining, which combines a scary past, an Indian burial ground, AND the a character as a catalyst. The Shining is awesome for lots of reasons—but it’s the many layers of psychological and temporal fuckery that really make it special. The Overlook is so mega haunted that you can’t walk around the corner without getting attacked by a firehose (book version) or seeing a Blowjob Bear (Kubrick film).
Other examples: No One Gets Out Alive, Kill Creek
5. It was evil from the start!
In a few rare cases, the house is sentient and does horrible things for no apparent reason. I’ve seen this done in a serious way, like in The House Next Door, or in a very silly way, like in Man, Fuck This House.
🏚 Other noteworthy haunted house books I plan to read this year: How to Sell a Haunted House, The Hacienda, and Just Like Home. What else do you recommend?
Next up in Part 2:
I’ll be talking about mainstream addiction theories. Each haunted house has its own story, and each person has their own reasons for becoming dependent on alcohol. The good news is, you’re not a ghost, and you don’t have to stay in a haunted house.
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