Thursday, March 25, 2010
Do you see what I see?
We all have psychic abilities, but something inside convinces us it’s safer to say it’s only ‘imagination’. I’ve seen the flicker of movement from the corner of my eye when nothing is there. I know it’s silly to worry about an open closet door or to check under the bed. I’m afraid to walk across a cemetery in the dark.
Is this what makes a story scary? I’m not sure I know. I know what frightens me, but it probably isn’t the same for others.
I use my fear to make my story real for the reader. That shaky feeling in the middle of the night when I’m not sure what woke me can be the same fear my heroine feels. Try to drag me to the edge of a cliff and I’ll fight every inch of the way.
Have I seen ghosts? Depends what you mean. As in a light floating in the dark or a dark silhouette where no person exists? Yes, I’ve seen both and been frightened.
Does that show in my books? I’ve been told that it does.
Here’s an excerpt from Ancient Awakening:
Legend gave him many names, but the wide halls of his mountain retreat no longer echoed with countless worshipers. He could have ruled the world had his ambition not died with the passage of time. The endless whispers were from the cold winds and the few praying priests. He didn’t care that he couldn’t remember his real name or birthplace.
For an eon he’d regretted the loss of softer emotions. Love had been the first feeling to die, along with the woman who had insisted he would never harm her. He couldn’t recall her features just the merry tinkle of her laughter and the bright smile she had greeted him with every morning. He licked his lips. She’d tasted sweet.
Fierce need flared in his gut and he sniffed the air. Outside his chamber a single acolyte in long brown robes waited to escort him. His mouth curved with a mirthless smile. The silent servants had ignited the flickering wall torches. Shadows jumped and shivered in the drafty halls like nervous virgins.
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