The Book Tower

Thinking about Hallowe’en last night, I decided to pull down and dust off my copy of The Mammoth Book of Thrillers, Ghosts and Mysteries. Published in 1936, it’s something of a mystery in itself how this book came into my possession but there it is and it’s a charming little collection. The short story that caught my eye was His Brother’s Keeper by W.W.Jacobs. Jacobs is most famous for arguably the best ghost story of all, The Monkey’s Paw, one that defies review because it is so perfectly executed. Just go read.

His Brother’s Keeper is a perfect little ghost story too; a man called Anthony Keller kills his rival and is haunted by the fact that the corpse is buried at the bottom of his garden. He can’t sell up, he can’t leave. They are to remain soul mates for evermore. What’s effective about the writing is that Jacobs manages to nag the reader with Keller’s worries, worries that haunt the man so deeply. Strangely, possibly due to the skill of the narration, I pictured the events unfolding in my own garden. Suitably creepy.

One chill a night will normally suffice, although I did go on to read The Seventh Man by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch. Here’s a writer who can build a comfortably chilling atmosphere:

Within the hut the sick man cried softly to himself. Faed, the Snipe, and Cooney slept uneasily, and muttered in their dreams. The Gaffer lay awake, thinking. After Bill, George Lasman; and after George…? Who next? And who would be the last – the unburied one?

The unburied one – that’s a frightening phrase.

Today I read an irresistible post over at The Pickards, an invitation to write a short story of your own for Hallowe’en. The prospect is scary in itself as I haven’t indulged in any fiction writing for quite some time. But I’m going to give it a whirl, so if anyone else is tempted then please join in…