On: writing a ghost story
- J. P. Harrison

- Feb 6
- 4 min read
What are the fundamental components, and why are they important?

Since I started writing my upcoming debut, The Girl of Grey House, I've learnt a lot about writing - specifically, writing ghost stories. I sunk my teeth into some of the all time classics - The Woman In Black by Susan Hill and The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson were the two decisive stories that really set me on the course of becoming an author. After hours upon days of reading, immersion, and research, I've developed a guide (as much for myself as for the dear reader) on how to approach the tantalising genre of ghost stories.
Part 1: The Foundations
Before you even attempt to put a word on the page, you're doing yourself a massive favour down the line if you consider the "rules" of your haunting to ensure consistency and atmosphere. I learnt this the hard way; approaching my novel with a level of automatic writing (fitting, I suppose, to write as if one is possessed by something lurking on The Other Side), which inevitably led to serious complications in the editing process.
Define the scariness of your story. Are you writing for children, young adults, or adults? Is it spooky, thrilling, or more visceral? Decide whether you'll be tapping into a psychological fear, a supernatural fear, or both. The sooner you establish these points - even if it's just in the back of your head - the more coherent your first draft will become.
Part 2: The "Golden Rules"
No-one likes rules. Except when they serve to make your life better. So take these with a grain of salt, but remember them always. Apply them whenever they feel right (which is most of the time).
Never underestimate the fear of the unknown. What you fail to describe in painstaking detail, the reader will fill with their own deepest and darkest fears. This has been practised extensively, whether it's Stephen King, M. R. James, or Ridley Scott (Alien is an absolute masterclass in this from a filmic perspective). Keep the monster in the cupboard until it simply cannot be hidden any longer.
You should also learn to tap into sensory atmosphere. Instead of describing the ghost, or the haunting, reveal the smells, the sounds, even the tastes in the air. These paint a far more compelling picture for the reader, who will once again inject their own imagery on top of the sensorial foundations that you place down before them.
Similar to sense, focus on reaction too. Don't explain what the character is seeing - explain how they are reacting. Roald Dahl is quoted as saying, "The best ghost stories don't have ghosts in them. At least, you don't see the ghost." Indeed, reveal the five senses that accompany the ghost, and the characters reaction to the ghost, and the reader will fill in the rest. They are smarter than you might assume.
Part 3: The Encounter
Also known as the point of no return, this is where things will start ramping up. The moment that the delicate tension you have been carefully building is leading to. The hauntings become more frequent, and impossible to ignore. It's even likely that your protagonist will have to address them directly. This might include a gathering of new knowledge - the history surrounding the ghost/haunting, or a direct investigation into the person or place that the mystery centres around.
There should be a definitive shift from creepy or spooky, to outright danger, fear for life itself, and an inability for the protagonist to walk away without confrontation.
Part 4: The Revelation
The ghost's biography is revealed. The protagonist discovers the troubled past or the horrific truth behind the entity. It's secret plan is made clear. This is the pivotal moment that makes or breaks a ghost story. Does the ghost want revenge? Help? Or to be left alone? Or perhaps, the ghost is in desperate fear of being alone?
Part 5: The Denouement/Outcome
Here we have the final confrontation. Does our beloved main character escape? Do they banish the ghost, or succumb to it?

One thing remains clear across all the ghost stories I have read: there is no happy ending. Nothing is ever tied up with a neat little bow at the end. And if it is, then it instead seeks to subvert your expectations. Then, BAM! That shroud of comfort that the author threw over you has been torn away, and you realise that you're not tucked up nice and cosily in your warm bed - in fact, you're sitting on a crumbling raft in the middle of the ocean, you can't see one metre ahead of you because of the thick fog, and an ominous gurgling moan is emanating from the depths below you...
Wrapping up
The most haunting tales are those that weaponise the unknown, using a slow-burn of sensory dread and psychological unravelling to lead the reader towards a revelation that refuses to stay buried; leaving them with a final, nasty sting that lingers long after the light is switched off.
Until next time,
J. P. Harrison



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