The Dark

I just read Charity Parkerson's twitter post that said:

"Evil lives in the dark--we instinctively know this as children." 

And it struck a chord with me.

I remember being terrified to go into the basement because it was dark. And later because my sister would bribe me like Lucy would Charlie Brown. She would ask me to get her a toy from the basement because she was too "little" and look at me with the biggest brown puppy-dog eyes you have EVER seen--and I fell for it every time.  So I would get to the bottom step, and she would shut off the light, slam the door, and run.

I was afraid to sleep without the hall light on--I still leave the lights and television on when my husband is away.

Everything is much scarier in the dark.  I cannot remember a horror movie where the really terrifying stuff happens during the day.

30 Days of Night is a movie about the town of Barrow, Alaska, that is plunged into a vampire filled 30 days where the sun never rises.  We all know they can only get you after the sun goes down...

Werewolves only 'turn' during the full moon--at night. 

My grandmother would say "there is nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light."  Oh, but Grandma--we can't see what waits for us when the lights are down.

We are told we will see a golden light when we die, leading us to the promise land.

This Little Light of Mine is shining and surely showing our good side.

Saying someone is all 'goodness and light' is self-explanatory.

A book I read about Feng Shui and "clearings" said that spirits live in the dark and the clutter.  The dim areas in our home that collect piles of stuff also harbor ghosts and evil.  We feel uncomfortable there not only because of the mess, but because darker and more base entities have come to roost. There is no motion--and no light.
Read about it here:

http://www.amazon.com/Creating-Sacred-Space-With-Feng/dp/0553069160/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332779809&sr=1-2

I can't say if these things are true--but I think Charity Parkerson is right.  We DO feel things when we are children and running up the cellar stairs for dear life because we know something growling and dark is nipping at our heels.  But we grow out of these things--we are rational now and we learn to fight these feelings.

Maybe we should listen to our instincts a bit more.  Maybe our inner voice is right--the dark is scary.

Day 57 of 100 Unfortunate Days

Every single basement has a dark corner or room no one likes. Maybe the whole basement is dark and scary. Spirits collect in dark and cluttered spaces. They hide and wait for you because they are stuck. Some people can see them. Some people see the long, thin, black, wispy figures with arms ten feet long that unfold as they slowly reach for you in the dark because you have to go down there to get something or fix a light bulb or retrieve a screwdriver.

Part of you revs up and moves really quickly to get out of there because you know if you wait long enough and the arms fully unfold, they can touch you and then part of you belongs in the black corner in the basement. Then it will be very hard to be normal again. You will wake up in the middle of the night, and you won’t be able to get back to sleep because you will worry about all the things you have done wrong and how you are hurting people.

You can’t get this out of your mind now and you think that maybe if you count and envision each number in your head as you say it in your mind; you can block some of the bad thoughts. Or maybe you can pray—say the Lord’s Prayer over and over and over and God will surely be there to help you because you are saying his prayer. But it doesn’t help.

God doesn’t give a fuck when you are miserable—he doesn’t care if you pray. You can pray until there is blood dripping out of your mouth and nothing will change. God is an asshole that way. Even a relatively rotten person will assist you if you are begging for help, but your thoughts will just revolve through your mind over and over until you want to take a gun like the lead in Fight Club and shoot them out of your head. Maybe someday you will, but for now, you are trying to figure why God is such a jerk-off and you have to live like this.

You wonder why you feel forsaken—well it’s probably because you have been forsaken and you don’t know how to live in that state. Because when you are a kid somebody probably told you everything would be all right, and now you realize they lied. So you keep lying to yourself, telling yourself it’s not such a big deal, but actually it is, because now the dark corners in your basement have started to get darker. And bigger. The arms get longer and longer and pretty soon there won’t be anywhere you can go where they can’t touch you. So you start to drink or take pills or do some other kind of drug so you can’t tell when you get touched. Now the problem is you get touched all the time, but you don’t know it. At least now you don’t care.

Puppy Love

I have loved animals since I was a very young girl.

I loved the idea of having a pet..a bird to sit on my shoulder like a pirate, a puppy to wag his tail when I came home, or a kitten to pet and stroke as it purrs. 

But my parents never agreed to these pets.  We ended up with endless fish (not interactive), and two gerbils (they bit and smelled very bad).

When I got married my new husband and I wanted a puppy.  I liked small balls of fluff and he wanted a manly dog to take on long hikes in the Watchung Hills and look respectable on walks.

We looked at Huskies, Labs, Chihuahuas, and plenty of others.  As puppies they are all adorable and troublesome, and we ended up with a yellow Lab we named Molly.  I knew instantly this was NOT the dog for me.  She was not cuddly, wanted to wrestle constantly, and I had to clean up after her every time the doorbell rang because she got so excited.  She loved everyone and she was the perfect companion for my husband and son.

And she was a good dog--we just never clicked.

My son wanted a Sheltie after we lost Molly.  I did not know who had the sadder eyes, my son, or the Sheltie--and Penny the Sheltie became our next dog. 

She's soooo smart.  She understands endless commands and will chase a ball or the sound of sirens if we tell her "go get it!"  She has a beautiful coat and is perfectly trained.

Then I met a tiny Chihuahua named Valentine. 

She is sassy, nippy, cuddly, and practically untrainable.  And for whatever reason I am in love with her.  She does practically nothing "right" according to puppy training books, has ears bigger than her head, and I am happier since I brought her home.

So I want you to know that all dogs are NOT the same.  You should pick the dog or pet that tickles you, the one that makes you smile, the ugly misfit at the pound you cannot leave behind because she pulls on your heart strings. 

You only live once.  Don't get a fashionable pet, or one someone else thinks is great--get the one you love.  :)

Expose Yourself

Writing a book that had elements of me and my personality was nerve-wracking.

I had no problem doing the writing--but when it came to pushing the actual publish button I felt like I was standing on Madison Avenue naked.  I had second thoughts and regrets, felt exposed yet exhiliarted, and the book was not even available to anyone yet.

But there was a stronger need to get the book out than to let the fear win.  It was not an autobiography and I had to remind myself it was NOT a diary--but a study of a dark personality. 

The writing was cathartic and unnerving.  It dug up corpses I thought would surely remain buried.  I had to deal with emotions I almost forgot I had--and then live with them.

Weeks and weeks passed and I realized I could no longer pretend the emotions and situations the book revealed were just a side effect of writing a novella.  So I faced them.  Friends had to deal with my sudden changes in mood.  My blog had become a dumping ground for every angry thought and question I ever had. I am not even going to mention what my poor family had to go through.  (But thanks if any of you are reading this--friends too.)  I also realized who my real friends are--are who are not.  And I made some great new ones while meandering this unexpected path.  :)

Yikes.

After three days of shock, depression, and a dawning of what I was doing wrong and silly in my life--I faced my demons.  Holy #$%.  This was better than psychological rehab.  I'm not saying I am normal and perfect now and I will never do anything wrong again as long as I live--but I am saying that writing that book (100 Unfortunate Days) allowed me to clear the bats from my belfry.

Oh, there are so many cliches, quotes, and sayings running through my head now:

It's always darkest before the dawn.

You must do the thing you fear the most.

Honest is the best policy.

Just do it.

They all apply--and there are more but I will stop here.

So I guess what I am trying to say is expose yourself.  Let the real you out.  Let it scare the hell out of you and tear everything up in its path.  And when you come out on the other end get ready--you will feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up after his 100 year sleep :)

(The image at the top right is the potential new cover for 100 Unfortunate Days--what do you think?)

The First Time I Was Charmed

Yesterday brought back many memories. I saw friends that I have not seen for 40 years.

We talked about games we played, other children we knew, and how life is different now.

We spoke of a family that lived behind us that was touched by the tragedy of losing a child, and how we all shared yards like they were our own.  No fences divided us and the area we played seemed endless.

We were all different ages.  My sister was probably one of the youngest at three years old, and Karen, our neighbor, was a mature woman of ten.  Roy was in high school and was totally out of our league.  He did not hang around with us, but we watched him in awe as he played his drums and got to have his own room.

Bruce was younger than Roy, but was still a much older man to me.  Playing with his younger siblings was always fun, but when he was there something exciting and new was added to our younger group.

One overcast day we were swinging on his swingset, and he got bored and started to dig for worms.  The girls kept swinging, and Bruce was telling us he was finding some big fat ones.  Then he said the terrible words, "And I found an especially juicy one for you...PENELOPE..." I froze.

I could not swing but I could not get off the swing either.  Something bad was going to happen--so I covered my eyes with my hands.  I think I was shaking a little.  I heard the others girls yelling ewwwwww!!!! and no no no!!  I was imagining a worm nightmare behind my closed eyes. Would he put the worm in my hair?  Would he throw it at me? Then I heard everyone telling me to look and open my eyes!  Open your eyes!! 

And there, about a foot from my face, was a daisy.  And about a foot behind that stood Bruce, with a simple grin on his face.  He held it there for about two more seconds, then said,

"Here."

Part of my mind remembers him saying something almost wise after that like "see, things aren't always what they seem..." but I can't say for sure.

I took the daisy and smiled non-stop for the rest of the week.  I did not fall madly in love with Bruce or even think he liked me, but something was new and different in my life.  Not everything turned out bad that I imagined would.

Today I look for the magic in everyday life.  Many times the smallest things contain the biggest wonders.  Did the daisy event with Bruce have something to do with this?  I don't know for sure, but maybe it did.

One thing I DO know is if you want to find something, you actually have to look for it.  :)

When Is a Relationship Really Over?

I am writing about a failing relationship in a new book. 

There is no doubt that the relationship in the book is doomed.  Of course both characters are flawed and have emotional baggage and issues, but don't we all.  Yet the fate of their situation is easy for me to see.  Nothing mysterious is going on, they are not struggling with tough decisions--it is just OVER.

It is rarely like this is real life.

We stay and fight and try and work on situations that may be salvageable, but how do we know when to actually end it?

Certain people say short of physical abuse, you should stay.  You are married after all, and that is supposed to be forever.  And of course if children are involved that is a whole different story.  Here is a paragraph from an article by Jayna Solinger: 

Generally, it is better for children to suffer a bad marriage than to cope with divorce. According to University of Michigan psychologist and divorce expert Neil Kalter, the misery of an unhappy marriage is less significant than the changes after a divorce. The children would rather their parents keep fighting and not get divorced (Marriage 64). Although this does not seem logical, it shows that children want their parents together at all costs. Also, contrary to popular belief, the alternative to most divorces is not life in a war zone (Zinmeister 30). In the vast number of divorces there is no strife or violence that could ruin a person’s childhood; the divorce is usually driven by a quest for "greener grass." These divorces almost always make the child worse off and create a number of unnecessary problems for the child. If parents would concentrate harder on working conflicts out rather than their own personal happiness, the children would be much better off.

While I do agree that parents should try and be their best for their kids, this paragraph makes me feel the child would learn that he is stuck once he is in a terrible situation.  That is not a message I would want to send my children.

On the other side of the coin, leaving might NOT be the worst thing:

Divorce, however, is not always a terrible thing. In a few given situations it proves to be for the best. The two situations that may prove beneficial for a person to get a divorce are abusive relationships and infidelity. When one parent is abusive, whether verbal, physical, or sexual, to the children, it is more beneficial to the child if the parent leaves (Huffman 4). Also, if one spouse is beating the other, the marriage should be ended. If a child watches his/her parent get beaten his entire life, he/she could think that it is fine to act this way or severely resent the parent for staying.

And so, the quandary.

How is one supposed to know what path is the better?  Hindsight here, as always, is 20/20, and we will never know the results of our decisions until years in the future.

I remember reading a little book called Life Advice from 4 to 104.  Little kids gave advice about how to hide bad tasting vegetables in your milk, teens advised how to sneak in after curfew.  A man of 92 said the biggest decision with the most consequences you will ever make in your life is the person you choose as a mate.  When I read it I was younger and did not understand the implications.

I get it now.

Day 64 of 100 Unfortunate Days

Day 64

How can you tell when you should leave someone? Is emotional neglect enough? How about being called a c**t, or having your grammar corrected in front of friends and family, or having your antique furniture you were saving from your family be put on the curb for trash pick-up? Or being told you were being ‘trained’ after your newlywed husband refused to talk to you for a month? Maybe being told you were not really sick but looking for attention when you had pneumonia? But on the other side of the coin, what if you have not worked in 15 years and this same man supported you and gave you everything you could ever need. Vacations and diamonds. A perfect house in one of the best neighborhoods and school systems in the United States. So am I a hooker? Does that actually make me a prostitute? Should I have left my honeymoon when he told me wasn’t speaking to me because he “realized what he had gotten himself into” by marrying me—and he did not like the way I packed? Can you really stay married to someone and feel that they are an asshole half the time? He thinks I am a waste of space and wonders if my father is disappointed with me because I am such an underachiever. How I am wasting my God-given talents? Can a person like you—or love you—and not talk to you? How many times can you try to talk to someone, or go to therapy, or read books to help salvage an emotionally ridiculous relationship? Can you stay in the relationship and retain your dignity and not have people think that you are a doormat?

Isaac Asimov, C.S. Lewis, and the Reagan Doctrine

I was feeling inadequate and incomplete because of my skepticism about religion and God, so I requested a clear indication.

And it did seem that the answer to my request for a signal of whether God was indeed there was all signs point to yes.

And then, of course, I had to start thinking.

My average education was not serving me well here, so I looked up two scholars, Isaac Asimov, and C.S. Lewis. 

Both frighteningly over educated, and born within 25 years of one-another, they had strikingly different views of God and religion.

Lewis, from Ireland, was an atheist, then theist, and eventually a devout Christian.

Asimov, originally from Russia but smuggled into the United States by his parents, probably could be called a reluctant atheist.

Lewis writes in blossoming, flowing and rich descriptions in contrast with Asimov's sharp, clean and direct sentences.  Asimov won Nebula and Hugo awards for his writings, and his short story "Nightfall" is considered by many the best science fiction story ever written.  Read "Nightfall" here:

http://doctord.dyndns.org:8000/stories/nightfall.htm

Lewis has written the Narnia series, The Screwtape Letters, and many additional Christian-themed books, several made into well-known and popular movies.  He was moved to re-devotion to Christianity partially by his good friend J. R. R. Tolkien, author of The Hobbit.

Asimov called himself an atheist, but with reservations.  He believed the term stated what he did not believe in, but neglected what he did.  He considered himself a humanist.  Although he wrote in simple and straightforward sentences, his mind was anything but simple.  He was a long-standing member of Mensa, and served as VP of the High IQ Society.

And now to the theological arguments.

Lewis's books argue that most evidence is based in favor of Christianity, and reasonable people should therefore be Christian.  (This is the most simplified version of his idea.)  He did not feel one should believe in Christianity if, in their opinion, the signs pointed otherwise  He did not believe "leaps of faith" served a skeptic any purpose.  But, for those who considered themselves devout Christians, he believed it better "to believe based on faith rather than evidence.  For a complete view of Lewis's ideals please read here:

http://atheism.about.com/od/cslewisnarnia/a/apologist.htm

Asimov pointed out that Ronald Reagan stated that anyone who does not believe in God cannot be trusted because they have nothing to motivate them to behave properly.  Asimov felt this was sad, inferring that people needed to be bribed and scared into behaving a certain way according to the "Reagan Doctrine," and we do not have the ability to keep our word or behave properly simply based on a sense of honor.  If we help someone, keep a promise, or just act basically decent, we are merely buying a "ticket to heaven."

I found the Reagan Doctrine fascinating, and hope you take the time to read this interesting treatise on a touchy subject.  :)

http://www.skeptictank.org/isaac.htm

Day 12 of 100 Unfortunate Days

Everyone thinks the anti-Christ is the devil, but it’s not. It’s a person just like you or me. Then the anti-Christ could tell you that if you do not go to church and follow him, you will go to hell. Or maybe he is right and IF you go to church you are following not the teachings of God, but of Satan. Satan is the father of lies, right? How the hell are we supposed to know who is lying

Now I'm Self-Conscious...

Christians have always made me feel uncomfortable.  Or anyone who follows a religion with unwavering belief.

How can you believe in something you cannot see, feel, or touch? 

And maybe uncomfortable is the wrong word. 

Although I don't think the way I feel is inadequate--it is close.  Maybe I feel less-than-good.  And I'm not exactly sure why.

It could be because they have that unwavering belief in God--and if you read my last post (below)--that is something I do not have.

Speaking about my last post...

I re-read it.

And then I re-read the comments.

I think a few Christians commented.  And a few non-Christians too.  I have to say these comments, along with conversations that I had with friends and family concerning God and this post, came closer to making me feel there is a God than anything I have ever read, studied or experienced in church.

Someone reached out a hand in friendship, another privately emailed me and said they understood.  Others reinforced friendships I was already proud to have.

I asked for a sign in my last post--an undeniable signal from the Big Guy himself.  This is the first time I can say their was not only a sign--but a shiny banner repeatedly putting itself in my field of vision.

Yikes.

Does this make me a Christian?  Or a person with an unwavering belief?

Not yet.  Which is good because I feel a bit self-conscious even writing this post because Christians and people of unwavering belief make me feel uncomfortable.  But I have to be honest...

It kinda feels neat thinking that for a change I could be headed in that direction...

Day 23 of 100 Unfortunate Days below.  One part of a journey...

Day 23

Once there was a little girl. She went into her grandmother’s special cabinet and took out all the scarves. Some were bright pink with gold coins sewn to them, some were square and some were rectangular, one had the bright eyes of many foxes, but all were silk. She knew the scarves were magic, and she brought them outside with a basket of clothes pins. She hung the scarves on the weeping willow tree in the back yard…all around the low-hanging outside branches, and formed a beautiful house with windows and a big door that opened and closed. As she clipped the last pin to the last scarf the house filled with gold furniture, and the fox jumped off the scarf and became her pet. She could hear music in her head and could light fire with her fingertips. She looked up into the night sky and she knew how old the stars were. Her eyes were the clear green of the ocean and she did not have to blink. She knew all the languages of the world and as she lay on the ground the earth swallowed her. It held her as she slept and in the morning she left her scarf house with the fox and went in to the woods. She took her pocket knife and carved her name in a tree that grew the wood that would someday form her coffin. She cut her hand on the knife and her blood dropped on the ground. A crow flew down from the sky and landed at her feet near the blood. “Go home.” it said and flew away. She followed a trail of poisonous mushrooms deeper into the woods and fell to her knees at the sight of the moon in the distance. She closed her eyes and went home to her silk house. Her parents missed her very much and her grandmother was not even mad anymore that she played with her scarves without asking. But she did not know this, and she did not miss them. She cut the lemon tart that was her breakfast and picked raspberries from the bush next to the weeping willow tree. One day she missed her parents and she went home, but they did not know her…she was not a little girl any more.

  





I

Do I Believe in God?

I want to believe in God--I swear I do.

But wanting and actually believing are two completely different animals. 

I believe in fits and starts.  I go through phases where I pray and promise everything from the perfect prayer life to never using the Lord's name in vain if the turbulence in the plane would cease and we would land safely.  On the other side of the altar (coin), I condemn the entire notion of a god to worship, feeling it is a way to keep people submissive and genuflecting.

Then there is a third mindset that does not allow me to feel anything but contempt for a god that would allow his only son's death, even if it was for the salvation of an eternity of souls.  He's the ruler of everything!  For #$% sake's he could have thought of another way.

Many times I don't like him very much--or the idea of him...or her.  Maybe it was a lack of proper Sunday schooling, but I was always taught that prayer could help just about anything.  I have never found that to be the case.  (Although my plane rides HAVE all ended safely...)

God allows or disallows all things.  Why, why, why would he allow hunger, war, disease, murder, or any number of other pains and tribulations?

I am supposed to swear my love and faith to an entity that responds with resounding silences to my conversations and beseechings.

My questions are nothing new--but they never leave me.

I read the Screwtape Letters--sometimes a few times in a year--hoping to glean a shining new grain of faith from Christian scholar C. S. Lewis.  I feel energized and renewed--for a day or two.

http://www.amazon.com/Screwtape-Letters-C-S-Lewis/dp/0060652934

I want a sign.  A glowing and shining light with a voice in my head--or out loud--telling me that indeed this is truly GOD.

I will probably keep doubting and waiting.  And hoping.

Day 57 from 100 Unfortunate Days

Every single basement has a dark corner or room no one likes. Maybe the whole basement is dark and scary. Spirits collect in dark and cluttered spaces. They hide and wait for you because they are stuck. Some people can see them. Some people see the long thin black wispy figures with arms ten feet long that unfold as they slowly reach for you in the dark because you have to go down there to get something or fix a light bulb or retrieve a screwdriver. Part of you revs up and moves really quickly to get out of there because you know if you wait long enough and the arms fully unfold, they can touch you and then part of you belongs in the black corner in the basement. Then it will be very hard to be normal again. You will wake up in the middle of the night, and you won’t be able to get back to sleep because you will worry about all the things you have done wrong and how you are hurting people. You can’t get this out of your mind now and you think that maybe if you count and envision each number in your head as you say it in your mind; you can block some of the bad thoughts. Or maybe you can pray—say the Lord’s Prayer over and over and over and God will surely be there to help you because you are saying his prayer. But it doesn’t help. God doesn’t give a fuck when you are miserable—he doesn’t care if you pray. You can pray until there is blood dripping out of your mouth and nothing will change. God is an asshole that way. Even a relatively rotten person will assist you if you are begging for help. But your thoughts will just revolve through your mind over and over until you want to take a gun like the lead in Fight Club and shoot them out of your head. Maybe someday you will, but for now, you are trying to figure why God is such a jerk-off and you have to live like this. You wonder why you feel forsaken—well it’s probably because you have been forsaken and you don’t know how to live in that state. Because when you are a kid somebody probably told you everything would be all right, and now you realize they lied. So you keep lying to yourself, telling yourself it’s not such a big deal, but actually it is. Because now the dark corners in your basement have started to get darker. And bigger. The arms get longer and longer and pretty soon there won’t be anywhere you can go where they can’t touch you. So you start to drink or take pills or do some other kind of drug so you can’t tell when you get touched. But now the problem is you get touched all the time, but you don’t know it. At least now you don’t care.

Tim Burton, Edgar Allen Poe, Edward Gorey and MoMA

Tim Burton is known for his movies; Edward Scissorhands, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Alice in Wonderland (the ninth highest grossing film ever made) and Sweeney Todd.  And rightfully so. They are gorgeously dark, child-like yet demented, and touched with a poignancy usually not felt in horror and fantasy.

Three years ago I was introduced to his art and writing at an exhibition at MoMA in NYC. Tim Burton is a prolific artist, and I walked through rooms of sketches of mysterious stairways, paintings of aliens, sculptures of circus creatures, glow-in-the-dark puppets, costumes from his movies, and other ephemera. 

Strolling through the outdoor patio of the museum I noticed two topiaries from Edward Scissorhands. Also on display were those terrible eyes that popped out of Large Marge's face in the memorable scene from Pee Wee's Big Adventure.

The original sketches of his first ideas from Edward Scissorhands were situated near a child's dollhouse where each room contained a grisly murder scene.

Along with the Edward sketches was the costume Johnny Depp wore in the movie, his scissor-handed gloves, and cinema posters featuring not only Edward, but all of Tim Burton's movies.

For admission to the black-lighted carnival area, one entered into the mouth of a toothy monster, and through a long black and white striped hallway dotted with video monitors showing Stain Boy, a character from Burton's book The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and Other Stories.

  This book contains stories and poems sometimes reminiscent of the tales of Edward Gorey.  Find his book here:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0688156819/ref=rdr_ext_tmb

There was a blotter from his desk filled with doodles and early ideas.  

There is a sweet and needy feel to his work, and one wonders if he is sad, manic, brilliant, or mad. Possibly a combination. One of his early films is called Vincent, about a young man who is captivated by Vincent Price, much like Tim Burton. He is also influenced by the works of Poe. The dark and moody images of his work seems to somehow echo Poe's elegant words. I feel if Masque of the Red Death were made into a film directed by Burton we would witness some of the most stunning imagery ever produced.

Read Poe's startling story here:
http://www.poemuseum.org/works-masque.php

Oh, how I wish this display would come back to NYC. But I don't think this will happen anytime soon--Burton has chosen to bring his display to Paris at Cinematheque. 

Lucky Paris.

Dark Shadows, featuring Johnny Depp as vampire Barnabas Collins was released May 11, 2012.

Big Eyes was released last Christmas.

Miss Peregrine's School for Peculiar Children expected to release on Christmas 2016.

Do You Believe in Possession? A True Story

Do You Believe in Possession? A True Story

When I was in tenth grade my best friend went to Portugal for a month during the summer.  Her health had been slightly off, so I was surprised her family was taking her on such a long trip. 

When she came home she had on a new gold necklace with a locket and a bracelet with some charms on it.  When I asked her what was in the locket, she told me she would rather not talk about it.  Eventually she talked. 

She told me a priest in Portugal gave them to her after her exorcism to keep away the devils.  He told her she had been possessed by several demons, and she should wear the charms at all times, and never open the locket. 

She told me her relatives kept her in her room for several days and nights, and she could hear chanting in a language she could not understand through the walls.  She said the night before the exorcism she could understand.

The next day her family brought her to a cave, and the priest began a prayer and that is the last thing she remembers.  They told her she fell backwards like she had fainted, and her head was bent so far back they thought she would break her neck.  Her stomach began to rise and fall, and when her eyes fluttered like she might be waking,  all four people there could not lift her.

They told her the priest said one of the spirits haunting her was someone her own father had harmed in a business transaction, and this was its way of doing him harm.

On a rainy, boring Saturday as we sat in her room she decided to open the locket.

Inside was a tiny ladder, a lightning bolt, some white cloth, dust or dirt, a cross, and several other items I cannot remember.  She poured them out in her palm, and as she was examining them she shook her hand and remarked they had burned her.  She told me they left red marks on her hand but would not show me.  I was scared and went home. 

I remember her thinking the devil was after her, and her boyfriend and I would tease her and try and scare her. 

She got sicker and sicker from an ailment that was never quite figured out, and eventually passed away from what the doctors said was Wilson's disease.

A few years after that her boyfriend fell off of a second story balcony and broke his neck.  He has been in a wheelchair ever since.

I called her in the hospital in NYC a few days before she died and her mother would not let me speak to her on the phone, but I heard her voice in the background.  Her once friendly, happy voice sounded like knives being dragged down a chalkboard, and I will never forget it.

Did she die from a disease?  Was she possessed?  Did the items in her charm actually burn her hand?  The timing of all the events was amazing, and I am still scared of the devil probably more than I should be.  There is a part of me that feels I should not be writing this, that I should leave it alone.  Do you think I should be scared?

Someone who read my book 100 Unfortunate Days said talent is usually called a gift from God, she said my book might be the one case it is not true.  One reviewer wrote she could not sleep for nights after reading it and had to stop.  Here is that review:

"I began reading 100 Unfortunate Days over a month ago. I read more than half, late at night, in one sitting. I felt an immediate kinship with the protagonist. I asked myself, had Crowe inexplicably been inside my head extracting images? Or had the worms squished their way inside, muddying up my brain? I had an uneasy feeling that the worms were already there, dormant, and 100 Unfortunate Days disturbed them. That night I had a dream or a vision of an old ghost-man smiling at me, on the verge of a laugh, at the foot of my bed. I didn't read any more for 7 days. Then i read a bit past day 75. This time i was visited by a demon troll who tried to take away my breath as i slept. I didn't read again for 14 days. I finished it today and I agree with Crowe, there should be a disclaimer before Day 1 because I am fairly certain that parts of this book may have been infected by the devil and in turn may contaminate you. That's balderdash, right? Maybe. If you are a skeptic and take this work as pure fiction from a very talented, highly imaginative authoress, go ahead and turn the page...and wish me luck tonight while i sleep..."

Maybe I will add that disclaimer...
  
I don't want to believe in the devil, but I may have to say that I do...

Protection from St. Michael--you may need it after this post:

http://www.traditioninaction.org/religious/b009rpMichael.htm

Please Welcome Joshua Corey Mays!

Today I am pleased to welcome Joshua Corey Mays to As the Crowe Flies.  I did not post his picture because I did not want to be responsible for all the women chasing him after this :)

Hope you enjoy his interview.

*Please tell me about your book.

My book is about a boy who discovers a world hidden from our own. It’s a world where our myths have existed for thousands of years without the flow of time. Space and time work differently here, making the protagonist's journey more interesting.

*When and why did you start writing?

I started writing because it’s something that has always interested me. I’ve had an interest in reading for as long as I can remember, so I think there was always going to be that natural “next step”.  At some point you get tired of saying to yourself “I wish this would have happened like this,” or  “I would have changed that.”

*What inspires you?

Things I can’t understand or explain, and any work I feel I could have done better. Unsolved mysteries and the Time life books, “Mysteries of the unknown” shaped me interests early on. I moved from ghosts and aliens to the occult, where I read everything I could that I felt had any amount of validity to it.

When it comes to things I feel I could do better, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been watching a really bad B movie, or reading an awful book and thought, “Interesting premise, too bad the creator didn’t do this, or that!” From there the ideas takes shape and morphs into a completely different creature. Maybe it's better, maybe its not, but either way, I feel inspired.

My first book, Terra Incognita: The Abyss, came about because I wanted to write a book, but I didn’t really want to do anything very challenging. A problem I’ve had my entire life, is that I over complicate everything. I would have started writing years ago, if I could have just stopped myself from going so in depth with every idea. There was something alluring to the idea of coming up with a simple premise (a boy gets drawn into a new, mysterious world) and running with it. I know it sounds like a cop out, and it is.

*Are you working on anything now?

Yes, I’m currently working on a vampire novel. I’m only about 10 pages in, so I doubt it will be done anytime soon.

*Is there anything you do NOT like about being a writer?

The more I write, the more I want to write, and the less time I have to do other things. But that’s not so bad. One thing I hate about being an indie author is marketing. I can’t stand it, and honestly wish I could get along without it.

*What do you think of the ebook revolution?

It’s a natural progression of technology. It was bound to happen eventually.

*How do you see your writing career in five years?

At this rate, I don’t know. There are good days and bad days. Sometimes I feel like I’m on the way up, and then I realize that the more people I get to read my work, the more bad reviews I’m gonna get. Time will tell if I’m going to be anything.

*Is there anything you will NOT write about?

Maybe not a subject, but there are genres I won’t write. I don’t think romance will fit into my schedule anytime soon.

*In what genre do you prefer to write?  To read?

I’ve always been fond of horror so I tend to but a horror spin on everything I do. My fantasy series is “dark fantasy” because I tend to like creepy dark things that lurk in the shadows.

I really want to be considered a prolific writer, so I'm gonna tackle as much as I possibly can. I think it’s important that all writers break away from their safety zones, and try something new and different.

*Please tell us about any ups and downs in your writing career so far.

So far, other than one bad review, it’s been all ups! I’m still a new author because my book has only been published a few months, and I must say, every sale I still a milestone at this point. Sad, I know, but it cheers me up every day.

*Do you have any suggestions to people who might be considering writing as a career?

Don’t quit your day job, and hire an editor. This is a lot of fun, and the possibility to make money is definitely here, but it could be a long hard road to the top, and you are going to need money to fund every book cover and editor you get.

As far as an editor goes, hire one! It was the best thing I’ve ever done, and it’s important that your stuff looks professional.

*Anything else you want to add?

Buy my books! Oh, and add me on facebook and tell me if you liked them or not!

Find Joshua's books here:

http://www.amazon.com/Terra-Incognita-The-Abyss-ebook/dp/B0051UN7VS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1327006816&sr=8-1&fb_source=message

http://www.amazon.com/Terra-Incognita-The-Other-ebook/dp/B006YZQCI4/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1327006836&sr=8-4&fb_source=message

Do You Believe in Possession? A True Story

When I was in tenth grade my best friend went to Portugal for a month during the summer.  Her health had been slightly off, so I was surprised her family was taking her on such a long trip. 

When she came home she had on a new gold necklace with a locket and a bracelet with some charms on it.  When I asked her what was in the locket, she told me she would rather not talk about it.  Eventually she talked. 

She told me a priest in Portugal gave them to her after her exorcism to keep away the devils.  He told her she had been possessed by several demons, and she should wear the charms at all times, and never open the locket. 

She told me her relatives kept her in her room for several days and nights, and she could hear chanting in a language she could not understand through the walls.  She said the night before the exorcism she could understand.

The next day her family brought her to a cave, and the priest began a prayer and that is the last thing she remembers.  They told her she fell backwards like she had fainted, and her head was bent so far back they thought she would break her neck.  Her stomach began to rise and fall, and when her eyes fluttered like she might be waking,  all four people there could not lift her.

They told her the priest said one of the spirits haunting her was someone her own father had harmed in a business transaction, and this was its way of doing him harm.

On a rainy, boring Saturday as we sat in her room she decided to open the locket.

Inside was a tiny ladder, a lightning bolt, some white cloth, dust or dirt, a cross, and several other items I cannot remember.  She poured them out in her palm, and as she was examining them she shook her hand and remarked they had burned her.  She told me they left red marks on her hand but would not show me.  I was scared and went home. 

I remember her thinking the devil was after her, and her boyfriend and I would tease her and try and scare her. 

She got sicker and sicker from an ailment that was never quite figured out, and eventually passed away from what the doctors said was Wilson's disease.

A few years after that her boyfriend fell off of a second story balcony and broke his neck.  He has been in a wheelchair ever since.

I called her in the hospital in NYC a few days before she died and her mother would not let me speak to her on the phone, but I heard her voice in the background.  Her once friendly, happy voice sounded like knives being dragged down a chalkboard, and I will never forget it.

Did she die from a disease?  Was she possessed?  Did the items in her charm actually burn her hand?  The timing of all the events was amazing, and I am still scared of the devil probably more than I should be.  There is a part of me that feels I should not be writing this, that I should leave it alone.  Do you think I should be scared?

Someone who read my book 100 Unfortunate Days said talent is usually called a gift from God, she said my book might be the one case it is not true.  One reviewer wrote she could not sleep for nights after reading it and had to stop.  Here is that review:

"I began reading 100 Unfortunate Days over a month ago. I read more than half, late at night, in one sitting. I felt an immediate kinship with the protagonist. I asked myself, had Crowe inexplicably been inside my head extracting images? Or had the worms squished their way inside, muddying up my brain? I had an uneasy feeling that the worms were already there, dormant, and 100 Unfortunate Days disturbed them. That night I had a dream or a vision of an old ghost-man smiling at me, on the verge of a laugh, at the foot of my bed. I didn't read any more for 7 days. Then i read a bit past day 75. This time i was visited by a demon troll who tried to take away my breath as i slept. I didn't read again for 14 days. I finished it today and I agree with Crowe, there should be a disclaimer before Day 1 because I am fairly certain that parts of this book may have been infected by the devil and in turn may contaminate you. That's balderdash, right? Maybe. If you are a skeptic and take this work as pure fiction from a very talented, highly imaginative authoress, go ahead and turn the page...and wish me luck tonight while i sleep..."

Maybe I will add that disclaimer...
  
I don't want to believe in the devil, but I may have to say that I do...

Protection from St. Michael--you may need it after this post:

http://www.traditioninaction.org/religious/b009rpMichael.htm

Can Reading Ever Be Bad?

Can we get so involved in books that our normal lives are compromised?  Is reading always a good thing?

I'm not talking about getting hooked on a good title now and then, I'm wondering about people who read one book after another and sit home while others are out experiencing life.

Ahhh, you say, books ARE an experience.  They take you places you may never see like the moon or Antarctica, let you experience things you don't want to like murders or disease or even the zombie apocalypse, and let you live a vicarious life that could otherwise get you in heaps of trouble. 

But can we spend too much time in these other worlds?  Does our everyday life pale in comparison to what we read, and does this make us less content?  Or is every book an enhancement, a gorgeous distraction to an otherwise mundane existance.

I am interested in the fact that many doctors and psychotherapists say we are better off spending time outside and interacting with others to keep our spirits up.  Physical activity works just as well at curing depression as anti-depresant medication.  When people are blue they are told to accept invitations even if they do not want to get out and get involved with the world.

Reading is easy, and if we are feeling a bit sad or blue maybe we need to catch ourselves and put the books away for a while and get out of the house. (I am not trying to trivialize depression at ALL or imply that reading can cause depression.)

Please know I am not suggesting reading is bad, just playing devil's advocate because it is generally stated that reading is wonderful, and I usually agree.

 I just keep thinking about the other side of the coin.

Physical activity and feeling good:
http://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/mentalhealthinfo/treatments/exerciseandmentalhealth.aspx

Reading and feeling good:
http://www.pickthebrain.com/blog/5-simple-yet-effective-feel-good-factors/

The Gorey Details

A friend recently asked me to draw a picture to be included in her book.  The original drawing was a bit light, so I added some crosshatching to make it a bit more detailed and darker.

Happily she liked the results, and so did I.

The drawing reminded me of something, but I could not put my finger on it.  I walked away to get the phone and when I came back it hit me...it reminded me of Edward Gorey.

Please do not think I am comparing my skills to the incredible skills of Mr. Gorey, but it was neat to see a bit of similarity in style.  His work fascinated me since I was a kid when my Aunt Annie got his book AMPHIGOREY for Christmas one year.  I was especially intrigued by the cartoons that were captioned in French thinking they must be especially terrible.  I read that he has been compared to Poe and Tim Burton, or a combination of the two. 

His work is dark, beautiful, and disturbing, and my parents worried that I liked him and the group KISS.  The Bug Book was written just for kids, but lacked his dark edge, so it was not my favorite. 

A favorite of mine was his alphabet book.  These books were traditionally a happy and cheerful way for children to learn their A,B,C's.  Gorey's version was dark and macabre and so far away from child-appropriate that it was glorious.  Here is a sample:

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs--
B is for Basil assaulted by bears--
C is for Clara who wasted away--
D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh...

Bloody and dismal pictures graced every page.

You get the idea.

The aforementioned Amphigorey contains fifteen of his works, and is worthy of any library.
 http://www.amazon.com/Amphigorey-Fifteen-Books-Edward-Gorey/dp/0399504338

So if you like dark, dismal, creepy, disturbing and wonderful--look for Edward Gorey.  I am so glad I thought of him today.    :)

A very nice blog that features Gorey's pictures up-close and creepy:
 http://beyondtheblackgate.blogspot.com/2011/07/lazy-blog-post-edward-gorey.html

Goreyography:
http://www.goreyography.com/default.html

Day 10 of 100 Unfortunate Days

The narrator of 100 Unfortunate Days is on the verge of a breakthrough--or breakdown.  She is opinionated, overwhelmed, and angry.  She also has some very bright ideas.  You can be the judge about her ideas on Day 10...

Day 10

You can tell what kind of person someone is by the kind of pet they have. It is almost as accurate as a horoscope.

Dogs—Anyone who likes dogs is a nice person. Anyone who likes owning a dog is an idiot. They also like things like cooking and having people over for Thanksgiving. They don’t mind cleaning up and have a stronger stomach than others. They are afraid of the dark and of being alone. They believe in God and the Devil. They do not think much. They are matter-of-fact. They are dull.

Cat—Cat people are selfish. They are either interesting or crazy. The more cats you have, the crazier you are. Unless you have outside mousers. They can also see different colors than your average person. They are either interested in fashion or witchcraft. They have a hidden affinity for the occult. Anyone who owns a cat is slightly influenced by the devil because cats are familiars of evil. If you wake up a cat-lover unexpectedly their eyes will glow.

Fish—Fish owners are technical and possibly engineers or scientists. Or kids. Adults do not have fish unless they have a poor sex life. They can also be hard to figure out and slippery characters. Doctor’s and dentist’s offices do not apply here.

Lizards—People who like lizards like guns—and maybe knives. They may have or want to get tattoos. They think they’re special and do not care much about getting sick. They are loners and have good hearing. They may have more facial hair than average. They may drive a truck.

Birds—Bird owners either have no feelings or feel too much. Men who like birds that talk have the same type of issues as men who like ventriloquist dummies. Women who like birds like flowers and fancy themselves as better than everyone else. Sometimes they are right. Bird owners have a higher IQ than the general public.

Hamsters, gerbils and mice—These pets are usually for kids. No comment on the kids that own them. Adults that own them are weird.

Rats—People who own rats think they are very interesting. They think people look at them in awe and wonder how they can make their rat act so nice—even if the rat is not nice. They usually have some piercings or tattoos, like lizard people, and like heavy metal music and dress in black.

Ferrets—Owning a ferret usually means you are devious and a bit snippy. Sometimes very snippy. You are a bit of an oddball. You don’t like to read very much. You like TV. And you get the TV Guide delivered to your house—that kind of counts as a book.

Horses—People that own horses think they are free spirits and in touch with the earth. They may be rich, or are trying to act rich. They like to be the center of attention and may have big teeth and big smiles. They own too many cars and don’t mind traveling a far distance to get a good cup of coffee.

Snakes—There is just something wrong with people who have snakes for pets. Especially poisonous ones. And now you are going to read this and get mad that I said there is something wrong with you. If there wasn’t anything wrong with you, you would just ignore that statement.

Bugs, spiders, cockroaches and the like—Just like snakes. Something wrong with you.

There are people with no pets at all. They are probably the smartest people.

(Please know these are not my true opinions.  I actually love animals, and usually, their owners...)

Selfish or Not? My Own Wishes

I was thinking of my New Year's resolutions and things I would like to do differently in 2012. I was thinking how I could be a better person and what I could do for others.  I was also thinking what I would wish for in 2012.

Of course I would like world peace, and an end to disease and hunger.  I wish for those things without even thinking any more.

But I found myself thinking in a new direction this New Year's eve.  I had my eyes screwed shut and I was wishing like a five year old right before blowing out the candles on a birthday cake.  I wanted stuff for ME.

I thought of a bigger house, a very sparkly pair of diamond hoop earrings, and a never-ending pass to a spa for pedicures and massages.  I want my son to do wonderfully in school, to have a peaceful relationship with my husband, to have a successful writing career, and my pets to vanish.  While we are at it, I would love someone to cook for me.

I am not a terrible person, it just felt so good to think about myself for a change.  And I let myself revel about this without feeling guilty.  It was great.        

I pondered this for a while.  I still want the bigger picture--no more war and hunger and pain, but maybe I will put my own wishes back in the picture just a little bit.  I think it is OK to conjure up some of that five year old magic for ourselves sometimes. 

What would be your three wishes?

(Please visit my new blog and help with the Eclectic Reader Challenge of 2012   http://www.penelopecrowereads.blogspot.com/ ) :) 

Just a New Year's Wish

I hope that everyone has a happy, safe, and healthy New Year.

I hope all your wishes come true.

Love,
Penelope

Mr. Kris, My Dad, and First Editions--A True Story

My short story, Henry and Greta, is a modern take on Hansel and Gretel, with a Christmas twist thrown in for Kim Koning's Holiday Hop contest. 

I wanted to write a modern fairy tale...I wanted it to be magic. 

In the story the mysterious Mr. Kris with his eight barking dogs has a book store in the Waldorf Astoria.  He has a journal from DaVinci, and the first editions of Dracula by Bram Stoker and Animal Farm by George Orwell.  Ahhhh...to have such a bookstore...

And back to real life...

The day after Christmas my doorbell rang.  I told my smiling dad to come in.  He handed me a bag.  I removed two carefully wrapped books--Dracula by Bram Stoker and Animal Farm by George Orwell.  Touched that he read my story, I thanked him.  Then he told me they were both first editions...

Really?!  Come on...
I asked him where he got them, and when.  He told me he has had them for a while, and thought I would like them...
I LOVE them.

I think the story DOES have a little magic...

Please read my story, Henry and Greta at Kim Koning's blog.

 http://dragonflyscrolls.wordpress.com/2011/12/25/holidayhop-welcomes-penelope-crowe-last-chance-to-win-some-prizesenter-now/

Thanks Dad  :)

WINNERS!

Thank you for all the funny, amazing, creative, and just great entries to the contest here at As the Crowe Flies for the Holiday Hop! 

First--Santa's Backup reindeer. 

The winning name was given by Barbara Battaglia.  She chose  BRUCE. Why?  She said, "I just picture this massive, muscular, bad ass..."Hey, someone call for a backup..." and then Bruce walks out through a haze of smoke to save the...night."  Too fun!  That changes things up a bit!

The new Christmas classic will be written by Shannon J. for her story titled:

COOKIES FOR KRIS KRINGLE and would feature "a spunky baker who's lucky in business but not so lucky in love. Until she becomes infatuated with a young, hunky shopping center Santa and starts baking cookies for him, delivered anonymously by a mall runner. Can she find love during the hectic holiday season?  And then there is a zombie outbreak and baker chick being holed up in the mall fighting the undead with bags of flour and metal spatulas."

Congratulations!  Hope you enjoy your $25 gift cards!

I also want to send copies of the book Vampires! to the runners-up:

Jessica McHugh for her story idea:  "North Pole Soul", and it would be about a band of Elves who play the blues and long to be world famous musicians.

Meghan Page for naming Santa's backup reindeer Control S.  (Get it?)

And because I love all things dark, even during Christmas, I have some dark honorable mentions:

jersey girl for her story  "Slashing through the Snow" - about a family that is hijacked by an evil serial killer while en route to visit grandma for the holidays.

Anthony J Rapino for his "dark Christmas classic entitled, *Night of the Pine* wherein all evergreens pull themselves free of their root systems and lead an attack on the North Pole. That jolly tyrant Santa Claus must be punished for heading the largest conifer genocide in the history of the world!"

Julie Jansen would write  "Frosty Frankenstein" about a snow-monster constructed by an evil child scientist.

And last but not least in the dark catagory, Craig Smith would write "Toe Smashers, about renegade elves that go around smashing people's toes with little hammers if they are naughty."  Weird I know!  It was great to know there are others around who share my penchant for all things dark.  :)

J. Chase would write about a sassy elf who would make fashionable eyewear so Crasher the reindeer would not have to be called Crasher!

Thank you, thank you for your entries!  Congratulations to all the winners!  :)  I wish you all the best during this holiday season and the New Year!  XO

The Day After

*Sigh*

Christmas is one day behind us, and the fun of family, food and presents a joyful memory.

BUT!  Today I will choose the winners of the As the Crowe Flies contests--and it will not be easy.  The entires were amazing, and I wish I could put them in Random.org to figure the winner, or ask someone else to choose for me--but alas, the task is mine.  I wish I had more prizes to give. 

I will the announce the two winners this afternoon and enter the names to the grand prize drawing for the Kindle Fire.  :)  Thanks again everyone--reading all the entries made my holiday even more special, they were wonderful.