We're Gonna Need a Bigger Legacy: How Jaws Changed Horror, Movies, and Me

It’s hard to believe that we’re coming up on the 50th anniversary of Jaws—Steven Spielberg’s 1975 masterpiece that made millions afraid to go in the water and, let’s be honest, changed the course of pop culture forever. But before the film, there was Peter Benchley’s 1974 bestselling novel, a pulpy beach read about a monster lurking just offshore that transformed into a cinematic and cultural tidal wave. For me, Jaws wasn’t just a movie or a book. It was a turning point. It lit the fuse of my love for horror and storytelling. And I’m not alone.

Jaws didn’t just birth the summer blockbuster. It reshaped horror. It redefined how thrillers were written and filmed. And it dragged our deepest primal fears right up to the surface—where they’ve been circling ever since.

The Book That Brought the Ocean to Life (and Death)

Peter Benchley’s Jaws hit shelves in 1974, and like the shark it featured, it tore through the public consciousness. Before Jaws, horror novels weren’t typically set on sunny beaches. Horror wasn’t about nature. And a killer fish wasn’t supposed to be terrifying.

But Benchley knew something key: real horror lives in the ordinary. We go to the ocean to relax, to cool off, to escape the chaos of life. He turned that sanctuary into a death trap. The novel played on a primal fear: being eaten alive by something unseen, unknowable, and unstoppable.

Benchley’s novel changed horror by introducing eco-horror to the mainstream—a subgenre that would later grow into an entire movement. It wasn’t ghosts, goblins, or vampires. It was a shark. A big, realistic, natural predator that existed in the real world. That could show up in your life. That kind of grounded horror hit different—and still does.

The Movie That Changed Everything

Then came Spielberg’s film adaptation in 1975—and the world would never be the same.

At just 27 years old, Spielberg took Benchley’s novel and crafted a slow-burn horror-thriller that would invent the summer blockbuster, revolutionize marketing and distribution, and terrify generations.

But Jaws isn’t just famous for being a hit. It’s a masterclass in suspense and fear.

The mechanical shark infamously malfunctioned throughout production, so Spielberg was forced to hide it—meaning we barely see the creature until late in the film. And that, right there, is what made it unforgettable. The horror was in the waiting. In the water. In the fins. In John Williams’ minimalist, heartbeat-like score that made two notes some of the scariest ever recorded.

Spielberg tapped into slow-burn horror at its finest. Jaws taught us that sometimes the scariest monster is the one you don’t see. That the buildup—the dread—is more powerful than any rubber beast or gallons of fake blood.

That approach influenced filmmakers for decades. Alien followed four years later using the exact same formula. The Thing, The Blair Witch Project, It Follows, Hereditary—all owe something to the way Jaws made audiences lean forward and squirm.

Jaws and the Birth of the Blockbuster Horror Thriller

Jaws didn’t just change horror. It changed the business of storytelling.

Before Jaws, studios released movies slowly, city by city. Spielberg’s shark tale hit nationwide with a huge marketing push—including one of the first massive TV ad campaigns for a film. It set a new model: release wide, advertise big, and watch the money roll in.

The novel got a huge boost from the film’s success. Suddenly, everyone was reading horror. Publishers scrambled to find the “next Jaws.” That led to a boom in horror and thriller paperbacks—and, yes, to Stephen King. Carrie had come out in 1974, but after Jaws, horror was a goldmine. The floodgates opened, and bookshelves were soon packed with killer animals, ghosts, demons, and serial killers.

For horror authors like me, this wasn’t just history—it was a catalyst. It proved horror could be a hit. That scary stories could dominate both the bestseller list and the box office. That our nightmares had an audience.

The Shark That Bit Culture in Half

Jaws embedded itself in pop culture in a way that almost no other horror story has. It wasn’t just a scary movie—it was a moment.

It changed the way people thought about nature. Shark sightings rose. Beach attendance dropped. Shark hunting increased (unfortunately). It created a mythos around great whites that persists even now.

It gave us lines we still quote today:

• “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

• “Smile, you son of a—”

• “Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies…”

And it reminded us that horror doesn’t have to be dark, gothic, or shadowy. Horror can happen in broad daylight, on a beautiful beach, surrounded by tourists. And it can still make you scream.

Why Jaws Still Matters (and Always Will)

As a horror author, I owe a lot to Jaws. It was my gateway into terror. It showed me how suspense works. How character matters. How horror can be about more than just monsters—it can be about fear of the unknown, fear of authority failure, fear of nature, fear of our own powerlessness.

But even if you’re not a writer, Jaws taught all of us something. It taught us how deeply stories can affect us. How one tale—about a small town, three men, and a really big fish—can ripple out and change everything.

Fifty years later, it still terrifies. It still thrills. And it still inspires.

Final Thoughts: The Shark That Started It All

Jaws isn’t just a novel. It isn’t just a film. It’s a foundational myth for modern horror. It launched careers, changed Hollywood, changed publishing—and changed a generation of creators and fans like me who still look at the ocean and feel a little uneasy.

So here’s to Jaws at 50. To Spielberg, Benchley, Brody, Hooper, and Quint. To the mechanical shark that wouldn’t work. To the fear that still swims just beneath the surface.

And to the horror fans like me, who saw that fin, felt that chill, and never looked at storytelling the same way again.

My newest novel is a cult horror tale and it is called The Given. Check it out today!

Or visit my online bookstore for every story I have available out there right now.