With few exceptions (e.g., Invasion of the Body Snatchers), I do not enjoy horror novels or films. When I was a freshman in college in the late ’80s, my friends decided to go see Witchboard, a horror movie that was playing at a local theater. I tried to bow out, saying I really couldn’t handle it, but they insisted I just needed more exposure. I reluctantly let them (pretty much literally) drag me along, but it wasn’t long before I was out of my seat and cowering in the lobby for an hour while they finished the movie.
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