The Scariest Story I Ever Read

I’ve been reading horror fiction since I was a wee lad. And from experience, I’d say most horror stories are merely horror-themed—but not actually scary. We’ve all enjoyed stories of vampires, werewolves, zombies, ghouls, and ancient gods intruding on present times—all good stuff. We like to see stories that take these old tropes and do something fresh with them. But few stories succeed in creating that uncomfortable sense of dread that makes them worthy of being called truly terrifying.

One such story is “The Distributor” by Richard Matheson (1926-2013). Matheson was a highly acclaimed American author and screenwriter who was celebrated for his many contributions to the fantasy, horror, and science fiction genres. He was adept at spinning yarns about the paranormal, monsters, or down-to-earth tales of outright terror (the story in question being a prime example).

“The Distributor” introduces a newcomer to a quiet, friendly suburb where residents are generally happy and get along well with one another. The newcomer introduces himself and gets to know his new neighbors before carrying out a sinister agenda. Through tiny, undetectable actions, he systematically sows discord in the neighborhood, turning the once-contented families against each other.

The story succeeds because of its minimalism, a contrast to the detailed, diabolical plans of the antagonist. Matheson writes in short, declarative sentences with words any fifth grader could recognize. It’s not because Matheson doesn’t have the chops. He was a gifted wordsmith. He’s using the bare language for effect, and it lands with perfect precision.

The reader is welcome to entertain notions about who or what the distributor is and why he does what he does in the quiet suburban neighborhood. He might be a chaos-sowing demon, an alien invader, or perhaps (this is a 1950s story) a communist agitator. Matheson could have easily given us more, but he gave us less instead. This minimalist approach takes what could have been merely a good pulp story and elevates it to a level of artistry many writers may aspire to but never achieve.

When I bring my writing to my critique group, I’m often chided for not going far enough, not “leaning in” enough regarding character development and motivation, or simply holding back a punch. Like any writer receptive to such criticism, I sit back and think: What should I add? Where should I extend? What can be augmented?

Stories like “The Distributor” remind me that “What more?” is often the wrong question. I should sit back and instead think, “What can I take out?” What less can I do? After all, it’s often said that less is more.

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