Earlier this month, I was triggered.
I am hesitant to even use that term because it’s annoyed me in the past. Now, before anyone comes after me, let me finish what I have to say. Certainly there are people with PTSD who can, understandably, be easily triggered, causing them to spiral. Kindness and understanding are always important. I’m not criticizing or mocking anyone’s pain or needs. I have plenty of my own and I sympathize.
But there are also a lot of crybabies out there who simply seek attention by making themselves into a victim. It’s a kind of shameful attention-seeking I find insufferable, particularly when the sanctimonious use it as an excuse to censor my art or anyone else’s. Yes, triggering is a real thing to be treated with empathy, but it is not the rest of the world’s responsibility to tiptoe around the frailties of the individual. This is especially true when it comes to creating art.
Of course my work will trigger you. It’s horror. The definition of the word alone should warn you what you’re in for: “an intense feeling of fear, shock, or disgust.”
Many people prefer having trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a movie, but I find them to be too big of spoilers. For example, if I’m warned beforehand that a novel includes child abuse, I’ll be expecting it and waiting for it to happen, which may ruin a potential plot twist or intended shock (I can think of more than a few Stephen King books that would be spoiled this way) . But at least that sort of trigger makes sense. I have seen some presses cave so desperately to internet pressure that they’ve listed things like “divorce” and “alcohol consumption” in their books as trigger warnings. Seems a little overboard to me. And putting trigger warnings for “blood” and “death” in a horror novel is a level of ridiculousness I can’t even wrap my brain around. I mean, imagine picking up a copy of Dracula and seeing those trigger warnings. It’s absurd.
Worse yet, studies have found that trigger warnings don’t help people, particularly those with PTSD, and if anything, they’re more harmful than no warning at all. This is because the warnings create anticipation, leading to a more prolonged sense of unease. But hey, if you want them, that’s fine. They’re easy to research before going into something. You just won’t ever see one in my books. That’s my choice and I won’t let any lynch mob cyberbully me into submitting to their way of life.
Now, with all of this said, I must admit I got triggered by a movie a week ago—one I had already seen. I just hadn’t seen it in a long time and had forgotten certain aspects of the film, ones that couldn’t have affected me then the way they do now.
Jacob’s Ladder is a 1990 psychological horror film directed by Adrian Lyne. It’s extremely metaphysical and artistic, and features some of the most frightening imagery in cinema history, a style so nightmarish it inspired other horror films and video games, including Silent Hill, American Horror Story, The Sixth Sense, and Resident Evil, among others. It has developed a legacy in the annals of horror history and yet seems to be largely forgotten by modern horror fans, which is a damn shame considering how brilliant, terrifying, and influential it is. The famous hospital scene alone is one of the most horrific pieces of cinema to come out of the ’90s (or any other decade).
Few films are as unrelentingly, mercilessly dark as Jacob’s Ladder. When it’s not scaring you, it’s depressing you. The storyline is actually multiple storylines, but all about the same person. It is confusing and mysterious, and some would say its plot is nebulous right up until its final frame, but I personally feel Jacob’s Ladder has a cohesive ending, provided the viewer pays attention and gives its meaning contemplation.
I don’t want to spoil anything (as I said before, I hate spoilers), so I won’t go into details about the story, but to make my point, I will tell you something about the movie you learn in the opening scene anyway.
The main character, Jacob, went off to fight in the Vietnam War. This is not a war movie, but it does deal with the horror of war. And as the son of a Vietnam veteran who died due to the long-lingering effects of chemicals used by the United States military—a topic the movie discusses—watching Jacob’s Ladder tore open old wounds and poured salt and lemon juice into them. Even with people who are close to me, it is difficult for me to share just how deeply the Vietnam War affected my family. I think the closest I came was writing my novel, The Old Lady.
I first saw Jacob’s Ladder back in the early ’90s. I was about fourteen. I enjoyed it and was aptly frightened by it, but my father was still alive then and I was too young to fully understand the lasting effects a war has on a man and his family, even decades later. And though I watched the movie several more times, I had not seen it in decades by the time I decided to revisit it in 2024. I had completely forgotten much of its material about the war and chemical agents. So watching it now, some thirteen years after my father’s death, was like taking a stun gun to the heart. The emotional finale (between father and son, no less) brought ugly tears to my eyes (those of you who have seen it will understand why it hit me so intensely). I went to the bathroom and sobbed—not simply because I missed my father, but because of the intense trauma I experienced as a son of ’Nam. Years of pain rushed back at me, leaving me shaking.
I had been triggered.
It was not a pleasant experience, and a man of my generation is not exactly comfortable with crying (thanks to primitive male bravado). But while it took me several minutes to recoup, I emerged from the viewing experience with a greater admiration for Jacob’s Ladder because its storytelling managed to touch me so deeply. Yes, it hurt, but sometimes art is supposed to hurt. Sometimes it is therapeutic to dig into old wounds. And as a horror storyteller myself, I applaud the film for being so unflinching and unrelenting in its terror, and for giving me a movie experience that put me in a state of constant dread.
Jacob’s Ladder will never be a comfort horror film for me the way Return of the Living Dead or A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is, but it’s not supposed to be. Instead it is a film I recommend to anyone looking for a movie that is horror incarnate—abject terror at its deepest, purest, and most guttural form. And you don’t have to have any personal relationship with war to experience its power. A sense of your own mortality will do.
Maybe some things should come with trigger warnings (movies like the original I Spit on Your Grave, Martyrs, or Irreversible come to mind, as do books like Jack Ketchum’s The Girl Next Door, A.M. Homes’ The End of Alice, or even my own novel And the Devil Cried), but personally I’m glad I wasn’t prepared for Jacob’s Ladder. To be forewarned would have ruined the experience for me. But again, that’s just me, and I have every right to feel that way, just as you have every right to your opinions and feelings. The thing is, I have ingested so much horror entertainment in my lifetime that it has become difficult for scary stories to instill any real horror in me. But Jacob’s Ladder is the definition of horror: “an intense feeling of fear, shock, or disgust.”
I don’t want to be shielded by warnings. I want the full effect intended by the artist.
As Tom Atkins famously said in Night of the Creeps: “Thrill me.”
I was a guest on the latest episode of The Dark Mind Podcast with Vincent Midgard. We spoke at length about my latest horror novel The Old Lady, and the art of writing female rage. You can listen to it for free on all pod-streamers.
I recently returned from Williamsburg, Virginia, where I was signing books at Scare That Care’s Authorcon III. It was wonderful seeing so many friends and fans come out. As always, the event seemed to fly by too quickly! But I will be seeing you all at other book signings in the near feature. Here’s my most up-to-date tour schedule.
June 8th : Vortex Books & Comics – Columbia, Pennsylvania
August 3rd : Books & Brews (Books of Horror) – Evanston, Illinois
August 9th - 11th : Killercon. Austin, Texas.
September 7th – Spooktastic Book Fair. Framingham Public Library. Framingham, Massachusetts
September 21st - 22nd : CT Horrorfest. Hartford, Connecticut.
October 4th - 6th : Scares That Care presents Authorcon IV. St. Louis, Missouri.
October 19th : Merrimack Valley Halloween Book Festival. Haverhill Public Library. Haverhill, Massachusetts.
If you simply can’t wait that long to get a signed book from me, please visit my website, which has just been restocked.
Currently reading: I, The Jury by Mickey Spillane, the first in his famous Mike Hammer series. Recently, I have continued to expand my collection of vintage crime novels, with particular focus on Spillane and my favorite noir author, Jim Thompson. Here are some personal photos to show off the unique beauty of pulp cover art of the ’60s.
Currently watching: a whole hell of a lot of classic film noir because it helps fuel the noir horror story I’m working on. Some recent viewings include ’50s gems Kiss Me Deadly and Angel Face (both grim, groundbreaking, and highly influential films), as well as The Maltese Falcon and After Dark, My Sweet. I read the novels of the latter two some twenty years ago but for some reason had yet to see the films until now. They’re both superb adaptations.
Currently listening to: Trigg & Gusset’s The Way In and Bohren & Der Club of Gore’s Black Earth. I can never get enough of dark jazz and need as much as I can get while writing my horror noir thriller.
Until next time, keeping reading, and try to be happy.
Your pal,
Kris