I’ve been thinking about what first made me fall in love with Gothic novels, and it goes all the way back to the 1970s. That was the era of the classic, formulaic gothic romances—the kind with brooding houses, isolated heroines, dark secrets, and an ever-present sense that something was wrong. I devoured them. Even then, I was drawn to the atmosphere more than the romance itself: the tension, the dread, the slow reveal of hidden truths.
But everything changed when I discovered Rebecca.
That novel took the genre to an entirely new level for me. It wasn’t just moody—it was psychological, unsettling, and beautifully controlled. The menace was subtle, the emotions deeply internal, and the sense of unease built so gradually that by the time the truth emerged, it felt both shocking and inevitable. After that, I realized Gothic fiction could be literary, not just atmospheric.
What I still love most about Gothic novels—and what keeps me writing and reading them—is that they feel like a literary roller coaster. The story climbs slowly, click by click, tightening the tension, deepening the mystery, until you reach that peak. And then comes the cathartic drop—the emotional release of the climax—where everything crashes together in the most satisfying (and often devastating) way.
I’d love to hear from you: How did you first fall in love with Gothic novels? Was it a particular book, an era, a feeling—or even a single haunted house that captured your imagination?
But everything changed when I discovered Rebecca.
That novel took the genre to an entirely new level for me. It wasn’t just moody—it was psychological, unsettling, and beautifully controlled. The menace was subtle, the emotions deeply internal, and the sense of unease built so gradually that by the time the truth emerged, it felt both shocking and inevitable. After that, I realized Gothic fiction could be literary, not just atmospheric.
What I still love most about Gothic novels—and what keeps me writing and reading them—is that they feel like a literary roller coaster. The story climbs slowly, click by click, tightening the tension, deepening the mystery, until you reach that peak. And then comes the cathartic drop—the emotional release of the climax—where everything crashes together in the most satisfying (and often devastating) way.
I’d love to hear from you:
How did you first fall in love with Gothic novels?
Was it a particular book, an era, a feeling—or even a single haunted house that captured your imagination?
Let’s talk origins. 🖤