My chief talent isn’t writing, it’s being afraid. As a kid, I freaked out about spontaneous human combustion, killer bees, and the prospect of a bathtub shark attack. And the 3,600 miles between me and the Loch Ness Monster wasn’t nearly enough. All of this youthful anxiety runs wild in my screenplays. Blame the neighborhood weirdo kid for setting me on this path. When I was six, he predicted that our neighborhood would be attacked by window ghouls. These ghouls supposedly would claw into our rooms and devour us all. Only those blessed with large dogs would survive, he said, because window ghouls hated them. Two nights later, I imagined the ghouls at my window, clawing the screen. At this...
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