Oh Look! Corn...

I'm sitting in the backseat of an SUV headed for the familiar waters of Lake Erie and childhood memories of upstate New York. Business is my reason for travel, but nostalgia can't help but seep into my mind as I think back on the many visits to see my grandparents who lived in that area. I can still feel the rush of adrenaline when my parents would shout for my sister and I to look out the window because Lake Erie was finally visible on the horizon and we knew we were getting close.

In general, I have a pretty horrible memory when it comes to specific events from my childhood, but some of the clearest memories I have come from our visits to New York. Eating raspberries right off of the bush next to the barn as the cousin's dog (the cousins lived next door to my grandparents), Bucko, came bounding through the apple orchard to say hello. Searching through the grape vines for a small scrap of paper which contained the next clue on a treasure hunt, and feeling both fear and excitement when the clue directed us to the dark and surely spider infested depths of the barn. Filling bread loaf bags with the abandoned shells of cicadas and not being grossed out by it at all. Flying through the air on their plastic tire swing which now lovingly resides with a place of honor in my own back yard. It was, and remains, a place of good dreams and happy thoughts.

Okay, I digressed a little more than I meant to there, couldn't help myself. Let's get back on track. So I'm in the SUV and working on sending out query letters to potential agents which is a truly riveting pastime and not at all tedious. Every so often I pull my eyes away from the dimmed screen of my laptop and survey the scenery as it moves along outside my window. Each time, I see the same thing: corn fields and/or bean fields. I have lived in Indiana all my life, so I'm used to this traditional mid-western backdrop, especially if there is an old run down barn stuck right in the middle of it.

(Side Note: Just stopped at Panara. I highly recommend the Roasted Turkey & Avocado BLT. Delish.)

So, as my eyes fall upon corn field after corn field I begin to ponder the enigma of the cornfield in the creative arts. Whether it's Stephen King's Children of the Corn, or M. Night Shyamalan's Signs, there is something super creepy about the cornfield, especially at night. That being said, I probably can't even count the number of times a potential victim in a horror flick, running like a spaz from some ridiculously slow-moving adversary who will still find a way to catch up them and turn them into a human kabob, will decide that the ominous cornfield is probably a great place to hide.

This is obviously a terrible idea. Yes, you are technically hidden from the soulless killer hot on your heels, but you have also lost complete visibility of THEM and it becomes a game of crossing your fingers and hoping they don't trip over you. Not to mention, horror movie antagonists all share a mystical cornfield x-ray vision that allows them to appear right behind the terrified individual with little to no effort.

In my personal opinion, there are a few things that make the cornfield the perfect setting for building suspense. First, a cornfield is obviously going to be out in the country, which means a severe lack of ambient noise. No car engines, beeping horns, emergency sirens, dogs barking. Stand out at the edge of a cornfield after the sun goes down and you are going to here nothing outside of some native insects and maybe a subtle breeze rustling through the stalks. Silence is scary. Second, out in the country—no one can hear you scream. Okay that isn't totally true, there may be a neighbor a quarter mile or so down the road who might hear you scream but it isn't likely. Third, lack of visibility. You can't see them, they can't see you (except that they can), and if a movie camera is following someone through a cornfield it makes for some very disorienting and slightly nauseating footage where you can't really figure out what, as an observer, you are supposed to be looking at.

All in all, I love cornfields, both in reality and in the world of horror. Midwest represent.