In audio drama, what happens between the sounds is just as terrifying as the gore itself. On Sunday at 1PM, the Westin Peachtree 1–2 hosted “Sounds Frightening: Audio Horror & Suspense,” exploring how creators use pacing and volume to build intimate nightmares. Moderator Alledria Hurt led an animated discussion with New York Times bestselling author and podcasting pioneer Scott Sigler (Beasts Beyond the River), voice actor and podcaster Symphony Sanders (Welcome to Night Vale), horror author Clay McLeod Chapman (Devil Inside), writer Tony Sarrecchia (Harry Strange Radio Drama), and Atlanta Radio Theatre Company producer David Benedict.
The creators began by sharing how they found their way into audio horror. Sigler recounted launching his serialized horror podcast in 2005, sneaking into a corporate recording room at 3AM to create the groundwork that eventually landed him a major publishing deal. Sanders fell into voice acting after meeting Night Vale co-creator Joseph Fink at a live show VIP room, earning a spot on tour just months later. Chapman leveraged his theatrical roots into writing an audio drama for Monkeypaw Productions. Benedict’s audio path started right at Dragon Con in 1994, when he wandered into an Atlanta Radio Theatre Company (ARTC) live radio performance of The Island of Dr. Moreau. After the show, he found their booth and asked how to get involved.
Hurt began the panel by asking the panelists about their least favorite parts of the process. For Sigler and Sarrecchia, hours lost to audio editing can feel like pure drudgery, and they prefer trusted editors. For Chapman, the hardest transition is letting go of the script once actors take over, acknowledging that a writer’s work is merely the blueprint for a larger collaboration. Sanders cited the physical toll of voice work; battling ambient noise in a closet recording space and performing at her peak under looming deadlines even when feeling under the weather.
The panel came alive discussing how to actually evoke fear through a microphone. Rather than filling every second with sound effects, the creators emphasized negative space.
“Space and breath,” Sanders said. “Silence lets people’s imagination go crazy a little bit.” She also imitates physically what her character is going through in a scene, because that comes through in the voice.
Sigler noted that pacing is everything: “The scary parts are when I slow down and let your brain project ahead. Putting those extra spaces. Get quieter.”
Chapman agreed, warning against overwhelming the ear with constant wet squishes and groans: “Allowing the reader to paint the picture, it’s going to be scarier.”
Sarrecchia underscored the medium’s terrifying intimacy, recounting a sound session where simply peeling an orange right into a microphone produced an evisceration effect that caused listeners to recoil.
When Hurt asked if the writers take into account the actors or audiobook narrators when they write, Sigler, Sarrecchia, and Chapman all indicated that they do. Sarrecchia noted that radio dramas are a collaborative process. You need to take feedback and criticism from the actor on what their character would say in a given scene. “Sometimes you may need to push back, but oftentimes the actor is right.”
Sanders and Benedict highlighted the intense vocal hygiene required for long sessions, including strict hydration, proper rest, and avoiding alcohol and dairy. Acting behind the mic also requires physical commitment. Sanders maps her breath marks and physicalizes every scene with gestures to anchor the character’s stakes.
By trusting the rhythm of the performance and leaving room for listeners’ minds to paint the scene, these audio masters prove that a whisper in your ear can be far more horrifying than anything seen on a screen.
