by Yvonne Navarro
It's three days to Halloween, so it seems only fitting that I write about ghosts, goblins, ghouls and pumpkins. I don't write many full blogs (not to be confused with quirky little Facebook entries I manage or the annoyingly intelligent essays my husband, Weston Ochse, posts on his page), so you, dear readers, are going to be treated to random Halloween thoughts. Why? Because that's the way my mind works, and sometimes the only thing to do is let it wander at will. Besides, it's fun to see what kind of cobwebs you sweep out of there.
Ghosts. Do I believe? I'd have to say yes. I've lived in a haunted house. I'm not kidding, and I'm not exaggerating when I say it wasn't amusing or fun. In fact, it was downright terrifying. There was a reason the man who managed the property for the estate that owned it couldn't keep a tenant for more than six months. That's about how long I lived there, and it was undeniably the scariest six months of my life. Sure, I was young and the worst times were when I was in the house alone (or as alone as you can feel when you have a professionally trained guard dog at your side at all times). But I wasn't the only person (or animal!) that house scared the you know what out of, so it wasn't an overactive imagination that made me move out with a single day's notice to the landlord. I know plenty of people who also believe in ghosts, and I just finished a writers' retreat at a haunted mansion in September that brought back all those unpleasant old feelings. This makes me feel pretty good about the fact that the house I live in is less than a decade old and has no uninvited ethereal inhabitants. The only Ghost around here is my deaf white Great Dane.
Goblins. Can't resist adding this one. The only Goblin I know is my big Mama's boy of a merle Great Dane. He has the spooky golden eyes to go with his name, but as my Dad is fond of saying, "He's about as dangerous as an orange."
Ghouls. Ah, another word for zombies! Popular nowadays, aren't they? Those drippy, decomposing, flesh eating seekers of our brains and bodies. Historically I felt nice and safe, because really, who couldn't outrun a grunting, stumbling creature or three coming at you at the speed of a really clumsy snail? Yeah, and then they went and made them fast. Really, REALLY fast. Hell o Day of the Dead remake directed by Zake Snyder. I used to feel confident I could survive a zombie apocalypse, just wait it out until they all rotted away. Now I think "Oh, sh**!" and try to imagine ways to barricade myself on the second floor, hoping to heck they can't climb, too. But we do have a Ghoulie in the house. Yes, it's another Great Dane, a year old blind girl who I admit with a little shame faced humor tends to throw herself at people with all the grace of one of those original George Romero walking dead.
Pumpkins. I have no idea why I included them, other than they really are a Halloween thing. I've carved plenty in the past, although it's been years. Being a perfectionist, I always have visions of carving bigger and better. Then along comes the Internet and freaking Martha Stewart. Right, like I can do stuff like that. And while Martha Stewart's squashes are suitable for family and those trick or treaters you don't want to scare too badly, I prefer the ones that really go for the Pumpkin Fright Rule (I just made that up), the big monsters you look at and say, "Wow that's incredible!" while inside you hope you don't dream about them later that night. Curious? Brave? Check them out at Patrick Moser's http://www.grumpkins.com.
For the first time in years, we have a party to go to the weekend preceding Halloween, one where costumes are "encouraged" (adults say that; kids just assume you're going to dress up). I've had some fine and fun costumes over the years, most notably the wedding dress I bought from a thrift store, then splashed with fake blood. (That one got me both a stop by the Chicago cops because I was also carrying a small axe, and a bottle of champagne as a bar prize.) There have been homemade pumpkin outfits, a Countess Bathory ball gown, and a skeleton bodysuit. But I'm not sure what to do this year. Togas seems so seventies, zombies so common, pumpkins so... orange.
Say... maybe I'll go as a Great Dane.
~Yvonne
Be Sure To Check out Yvonne's Newest Book- Highborn.
EVERYONE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE. BRYNNA MALAK MIGHT BE THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE.
Brynna is a fallen angel trying to earn redemption. She’s escaped from Hell in search of a new life on Earth, but Lucifer’s deadliest hunters are hot on her trail. Police Detective Eran Redmond is after her for a different reason: he needs Brynna to help him find a serial killer who is terrifying Chicago . . . and the trail leads them right to Hellspawned demons of the most dangerous kind. She’s also got a very human problem: dealing with a stubborn, attractive cop who makes her long for everything she knows she can’t have.
Staying alive long enough to earn a shot at Heaven will mean breaking some major rules in the mortal world, as she learns just how complicated and wonderful being human can be. With so much stacked against her, even Brynna has to wonder if she’s crazy. But she’s not giving in without a fight.
Not a chance in Hell. . . .
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1 comment:
I too have lived in haunted places. Fortunately, the haunted apartkment, in the Bronx, was home to a harmless little girl with a penchant for shiny things. I would lose one earring from my dresser. Said earring would return a few days later. The other ghostly residence was my husband's frat house in Lowell, MA. There too, it was mostly the benign spirit of an elderly woman who could be seen in the rooms and roaming the halls. Then, one night, someone decided we should have a seance. Bad idea! That was the night I swore off seeking the unknown for good.
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