Taking on a new read this month…Ashley Bell by Dean Koontz. I haven’t read all his works, just can’t do it, but have been staggered by a few stories, like the Odd Thomas books, of which the first two are the best by far for a good chill.
As for his latest work, it has me thinking of the strangest things as I read…about life, the possibility of death, about being positive no matter what happens, about parenting, about divination in its weirdest of forms and if we are designed to listen when we are given those subtle universal cues…
The main character, Bibi, is a sweet young woman, with such an inspiring attitude on life she almost shames me into thinking, What the fuck’s wrong with me? but, then she is fictional, so…
Not sure if this story will be as scary as Koontz’s others, but expect a haunting adventure just the same.
In the first 100 pages or so I jotted down a few deep and creepy lines that I liked:
As all the light vanished and the glistening blackness flooded over her, she tried to cry out for help, but like all drowned girls before her, she had no voice.
The morning grew mild, but Bibi remained cold to her bones.
She realized then that madness and sanity were two worlds separated from each other by no more than a single step.
The seeds of our stories are planted within ourselves. We might jot down ideas in a journal or pour our hearts out on the page of a first draft in a highly personal and uncensored manner. We formulate our innermost thoughts and then record our experiences, or sketch fictional characters and plots. We reach down deep within ourselves and see what germinates. This is healing. – Tracy Strauss, Harnessing Creativity
Kissing the muse…
Image of Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke, Rolling Stone Mag 2012
The Baltic Sea froze in 1307. Birds flew north
From the Mediterranean in early January.
There were meteor storms throughout Europe.
On the first day of Lent
Two children took their own lives:
Were sewn into goats’ skins
And were dragged by the hangman’s horse
The three miles down to the sea.
They were given a simple grave in the sand.
The following Sunday, Meister Eckhart
Shouted that a secret word
Had been spoken to him. He preached
That Mary Magdalene
Sought a dead man in the tomb
But, in her confusion, found
Only two angels laughing…
This was a consequence of her purity
And her all to human grief.
The Baltic Sea
Also froze in 1303–
nothing happened that was worthy of poetry.
“The Koh-i-Noor diamond was mined in India in around 1100 and probably originated from Golconda in the southern region of Andhra Pradesh. The shape and size of a small hen’s egg, the diamond attained a sinister mystique…
Random post from The Wit of the Staircase by Theresa Duncan
Planning through the past few weeks for Na No Wri Mo, National Novel Writing Month, this November. Feels great to finally have the time to focus. For me it’s now or never with stories I have. One in particular has been begging to be written, so I’m focused, I’m ready…
So if any of you fellow readers and writers have signed up and are all-in for the challenge this year let me know.
Join me as a buddy, pen name MichelleG-83, if you’d like.