I have been blogging recently about attics and very often about monsters, ghosts and superstitions. I might as well blog about more about such topics. In 2006, before starting my job at Liverpool and waiting for my working permit to be granted, I bought, to read something different than my usual crime fiction and to read something that puts you in the mood for Halloween, I bought The Oxford Book of English Ghost Stories. It's a great collection, there are some hidden gems in it and many classics. It made me rediscover Walter Scott, H.G. Wells and Bram Stoker and made me discover M.R. James, E. Nesbit, F. Marion Crawford and many others, among them an important number of women writers (the introduction said many ghost story writers were female because they could find freedom in writing they couldn't find in society, but I suspect it is because they found every day environment hostile in its familiarity). But more than anything else, it gave me some fascinating stories to read.
I love horror stories since I got too old for my parents to forbid me to read them. I don't particularly like modern authors, I much prefer classic ones. As autumn is starting again, I will get back to it.
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