Daisy’s Demons was my first attempt at horror. I wrote it after I’d read a lot of short stories by Neil Gaiman, which helped put me in the right frame of mind. (We Can Get Them For You Wholesale is probably my favourite horror story ever – that perfect example of a mundane thing being twisted just far enough that it becomes terrifying).
To write it, I looked back at what scared me when I was little, and that was shapes. Specifically, shapes in the dark. Shapes in the dark, made from familiar, everyday objects that were perfectly innocuous in the light, but which changed in the darkness into something strange and wrong.
When I was little, the scariest thing in my room was the wardrobe door. Thanks to the position of the panels in the front and some knots in the wood, my wardrobe had a face, and it wasn’t a friendly face. Sometimes I hung clothes on the front just to cover it up. Of course, sometimes the clothes looked like ghostly figures, which didn’t help much.
Luckily, none of the strange shapes in my room ever started moving. Daisy’s Demons grew out of wondering what I could have done if they had. Personally, I think I would have screamed or switched the light on, or possibly both. Daisy, however, was a far more resourceful child.