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Article:
Why I Write Horror by: David Silva These are some of the snapshots I carry with me: My father coming up to visit me after first being diagnosed with leukemia. The visit was a surprise, and he brought a new computer with him. As he carried it into the house, he said, 'This isn't yours, but I'm going to let you use it.' Later that afternoon, he told me he was dying. We spent the entire weekend playing with the computer, trying to write crude DOS programs and get it to do what we wanted. It was as close to him as I ever felt. Carrying my dog Seth into the veterinarian's office and placing her on the cold stainless steel table. Her so well behaved, as always. Me fighting back the tears in front of the doctor. She had been diagnosed with bone cancer and her limp was so dramatic that every step had to be excruciating. I couldn't stay to watch him put to her to sleep. It just hurt too much. Answering the knock on the door at three-thirty in the morning and stepping outside, where ashes were floating down out of the sky like giant snow flakes. The Fountain Fire, which had started nearby and had burned some '65
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