Can Fear turn into Fiction?

What scares you?

When I ask myself this question, I immediately remember summer camp, twelve year olds sitting around a campfire late at night listening to counselors tell spine tingling ghost stories with pitiful sounding titles like “Give me back my hand, or my liver, or my head.” That fear was so real I can remember it vividly – pounding heart and surging adrenaline; I outgrew most that childish type of fear – out grew but never forgot.

In the 70’s I read my first Stephen King novel and my fear again rekindled. This fear caused the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand up straight and gooseflesh to bubble on my arms as I read the chapter in The Shining where the hedge animals closed in on the main character . . . I swear I could hear leaves rustling behind me those words were so vivid, so compelling. These are two cool examples of things that have scared me through the years – there have actually been countless scary moments throughout my life.

For the past two decades I’ve worked to turn many of my own personal scares, fears, and nightmares into fictional short stories, flash fiction, non-fictional articles, critiques, commentary, and memoirs. Hopefully this is just the beginning, as I continue to work on my powers of observation.

Not only do I write about my own fears, I'm working on pulling in scary observations from co-workers, friends, relatives, and even strangers on the street, doctor’s waiting room, or at the mall.

My brain likes to play “what if.”

What if I was driving home from the mall and noticed a scrap of the loud plaid fabric skirt worn by my friend Silvia today hanging from the trunk seam of the beat up old Buick in front of me at the red light? What if that scrap of fabric was yanked from my site right before my eyes as I waited for the light to change?

What if the tiny, wrinkled, mild-mannered old lady at the end of our childhood street were really a practicing witch?

What if the unusual plant that you received for your anniversary were carnivorous?

What if . . .

Well, you get the idea.

With this blog, I hope to keep asking devoted readers
the ever-eternal question:“What scares you?”

Because that’s what I enjoy writing about.

The Shining

Can Fear turn into Fiction?

Subtle Sorcery

Dear Weezel,
This is a little scary because I think my Grandmother is a witch.
Whenever I spend time at her house, I have nightmares and I see strange things. She lives deep in the woods with lots of bizarre plants in and around her house.

She grows huge ugly plants and I’ve seen her out in her yard whispering to the plants.
She dries a lot of the weird plants and often I see her cooking bunches of smelly plants in a metal pot on top of her wood stove. Sometimes when she’s stirring her concoctions, her eyes are closed and her lips are moving like she’s in a trance or something.

What really convinced me, however, happened last weekend. On Friday night I had a wicked bad nightmare where a shadowy figure chased me through Grandma’s garden of strange bushy plants; the plants reached for me with their slick rubbery leaves . . . I woke up then to find Grandma perched beside me on the bed, her face scrunched into a dried apple of concern above her narrow shoulders. I’ve been suffering nightmares for as long as I can remember, but that one grossed me out and I think Grandma knew it. I think she saw something in my eyes.

The next day, she gave me a little cloth cushion about the size of a bar of soap, and instructed me to keep it under my pillow at night and my nightmares would disappear. The little pillow smelled funny: kind of like mint and cabbage, almost a little sickening. It also crackled and puffed a bit when I squeezed it, but I placed it under my pillow like a good granddaughter.

AND my nightmares are gone. I sleep so well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to wake up on my own. I have the little pillow at home in my room with me now. I’m afraid to close my eyes without it. I guard that little pillow like my life depended on it; running home from school each day to make sure it’s still where I left it.

What’s wrong with me? Is my Grandmother a witch? Is she putting evil spells on me?
--Carrie H.

Dear Carrie,
Nature provides us with a magical pantry. Since ancient times plants and herbs have been used to improve our lives. Energy harnessed secretly by knowing practitioners can create a powerful balance – can guide fate with a blend of whispered mystery carried down through the ages. I call this subtle sorcery.

You are right to guard the pillow, it’s your natural instinct stepping in to protect you. The pillow was made for you and to work it needs to be near you: keep it safe. Your grandmother believes that she is helping you. It sounds like you believe it to. Set your fears aside and enjoy another good night’s sleep.
--Weezel

Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic: A Materia Magica of African-American Conjure

Subtle Sorcery