Hallowe'en Greetings from a non-starter

I’ve read with interest the several posts on Hallowe’en, and Happy Hallowe’en to everyone who is participating in any way. Here in Australia, Hallowe’en is not big. In my regional New South Wales town, one supermarket chain offers huge Jack o’Lantern pumpkins with instructions how to carve. A few other retailers display costumes and assorted Hallowe’en bits and pieces; however, early on the morning of Saturday 29^th, the newsagent/gift shop in the main shopping centre reduced its dozen or so Hallowee’en items by 40%.

Several years ago, I was lucky enough to experience an American Hallowe’en while staying with friends in Pensacola. Pride of place in their house front window was a carved pumpkin; rooms were festooned with assorted orange and black decorations, and we ate, among other appropriate foodstuffs, home-made orange cupcakes with black icing. In the evening, we joined a Haunted House walking tour of the historic district, where we heard tales of the houses’ pasts and the ghosts who were (are?) supposed to revisit these, their homes, on Hallowe’en. Such a fascinating and spooky brief encounter with some of the heritage of the area.

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Just the other day, I was asked where I got the idea from for my recent release Where the Heart Is, especially since the setting for most of this contemporary romance is in the Eastern Caribbean, geographically distant and not easy to reach from Australia. A newspaper ad caught my writer’s attention, not because I was interested in the product (which was not for a drink or for travel), but because it featured two tall glasses of an amber liquid garnished with slices of lime and paper umbrellas on swizzle sticks. The background showed a wooden jetty extending into a turquoise sea. Cutting the ad out, I saved it. Some time later, browsing through my ideas folder, the ad “told” me this was the location for a story set in the Caribbean. I have no idea why, as it could easily have been in Australia. The amber liquid became a mango daiquiri, while the jetty was needed for the fictitious amphibian plane that serviced a fictitious island. So much research to do!

I had a fabulous holiday. I visited Barbados, scribbling bits of the story while waiting for a flight to St Vincent, from where I took the ferry through the Grenadine islands. Champagne island in the story is a composite of what I experienced; the characters and plot are entirely imagination.

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Back to Hallowe’en—over to you in the northern hemisphere. Have fun! Love, Priscilla.

Hellhounds: Black Dogs Get a Bad Rap by Kathy Fischer-Brown

We all know about black cats and their associations with “witches” and bad luck if one happens to cross your path. But what about black dogs? As a dog person who’s shared my life with a number of black dogs, I was interested to discover their otherworldly history. And as it’s nearly Halloween, what’s more appropriate than a short history of scary things. After all, I write historical fiction and research is probably the most fun part of the process, and this was no exception.

Since ancient Greek mythology’s Cerberus and especially in old Celtic and Germanic legends, in the British Isles and Western Europe, the black dog has been associated with demons or hellhounds. They’re generally large nocturnal animals with huge claws; black, mangy fur; “nasty, big pointy teeth” (to quote Monty Python…OK that was a rabbit); and red or green glowing eyes. Sometimes he will appear from the shadows of night and at other times a bolt of lightning presages his appearance. He is often associated with crossroads and places of execution. His presence almost always portends death for whomever is unfortunate enough to see him. He’s been known by various names, such as Barghest of Yorkshire and Black Shuck of East Anglia, and Moddey Dhoo from the Isle of Man. In Spain, Dip is an evil, black, hairy vampire dog. Cadejo from Central America and Southern Mexico can be white (benevolent) or black (malevolent), and appears at night either to aid or to kill travelers. In the U.S. we have our own black dog legends, one right here in Connecticut close to where I live, is called the Black Dog of Hanging Hills.

 

In literature, perhaps the most famous devil dog (not to be confused with the yummy Drake's confection) is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Hound of the Baskervilles. J.K. Rowling’s young sorcerer crosses paths with a black dog in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Even Bram Stoker’s Dracula transforms into a black dog at one point.

Although I haven’t included many dogs in my books, a couple of street curs (one of which is black) makes a cameo appearance in my fantasy, The Return of Tachlanad. And for a fun exercise while in rewrites for book 3 of “The Serpent’s Tooth” trilogy, I made a point to include a few Wizard Oz references in The Partisan’s Wife. One such was naming an inn where Anne and Peter spend a night en route from Albany to New York. I called it The Little Black Dog (homage to Toto). Had I known then what I know now about the nature of black dogs in history, I might thought twice.

Shadow, my first black dog was a young stray mutt who hung out at the Amoco gas station my father frequented. I met him in 1956 on Christmas Eve (not Halloween) when I accompanied my dad to have my mother’s tires changed over in preparation for winter driving. I went up in the car on the lift with the little dog while the work was being done, and we instantly became best buds. To my great joy, Frank, the gas station owner allowed us to take him home. Knowing my mom would disapprove of such a smelly, greasy animal, we had to sneak Shadow into the house. But after a bath, during which I was nearly certain he’d turn white, he became a part of the family for the next 15 years. There was nothing evil or malevolent about my childhood companion, although I did go through a time when I swore he was actually a prince under a witch's spell…and all I had to do was kiss him.

~*~

Kathy Fischer Brown is a BWL author of historical novels, Winter Fire, Lord Esterleigh's Daughter, Courting the Devil, The Partisan's Wife. The Return of Tachlanad, an epic fantasy adventure for young adult and adult readers is her latest release. Check out her The Books We Love Author page or visit her website. All of Kathy’s books are available in e-book and in paperback from Amazon.

 

Kitchen Apparition

http://amzn.to/1TDh07s  My Mozart  ISBN:  1927476364

What we’ve had here today has been sun, clouds, and a sort of golden light falling through autumnal trees that I think of as Don Giovanni weather. And what, you ask, makes me call it that? Well, it’s the end of October now and we are approaching Halloween, the time of year, when, in 1787, to thunderous applause and many encores, that opera was first performed. The city was Prague, not Vienna, because by that time the arbiters of taste in the latter place had decided that Mozart was no longer cool. The infamous con man, Casanova, may have sat in with Lorenzo DaPonte and Mozart, while the libretto was written, lending his own unsavory life experiences to the twists and turns of the plot.

When I entered one of those OCD states of mind to which I am prone, in the mid-eighties, it was All Mozart All The Time at our house. I began to write two Mozart novels, “Mozart’s Wife” and “My Mozart.” Wouldn’t want anyone checking out the titles to wonder what the subject was.

http://amzn.to/1Vy47lm  Mozart’s Wife  ISBN:  1461109612

This happened on a late October Saturday. The silver maples were raincoat yellow. The sky had been clear blue all morning until after lunch, but after, the wind rose and a fleet of puffy, gray-bottomed clouds began to put  a lid on things. I was doing housework, still attempting the working woman’s bit where you go double time and do lots of housework and cooking over weekends. Of course, I was blasting Don Giovanni, saturating my cells with every chord—just as I used to do all through the '60's and ‘70’s with rock’n’roll.     

Husband was off somewhere, and the house was empty of teenage sons, too, so the only nerves I was fraying were my own. In those days I had a fabulous pair of pink high top sneakers that looked ever so good with jeans. Jeepers, this was a long time ago--back in the last century...

What happened in my kitchen that afternoon is the only supernatural encounter I’ve had in this house. I think there genuinely are no ghosts here; the house was built in 1948. There has been anger, violence, and grief, but no deaths. So, in this case the "supernatural" experience focused on me.

Looking back, I can see that I'd overdosed on Mozart. And, on this day, too much Don Giovanni, too much dwelling in and on the stories of Herr WAM in which I had been immersed, re-imagining and writing in a Sheldon-Cooper-like spasm of self-indulgence. This led Mozart's dynamic, charismatic spirit, drawn by womanly hero-worship as well as the sound of his music, to pass the gate.

Nanina contemplates the skull of her maestro

The Stromboli dough I'd prepared earlier lay ready to roll out, ready to receive meat, cheese, tomato sauce, and sweet pepper, when my progress was interrupted by a loud creak followed by an unearthly groan. It was that old movie sound effect of the hinges of hell—or heaven—swinging open. It was so loud it overcame the flood of opera, pouring from the kitchen speakers.

I spun around and there he was, standing on my 1948-era brick pattern linoleum. Needless to say, after so much time he looked ghastly—the “great nosed Mozart” as a contemporary called him—shrunken, frail, his face lined with his final suffering—but undeniably present.

.

From "The Mozart Brothers" 

I saw him clear as day. My reaction—I'm not ashamed to admit—was fear. When the door opens at 3 a.m. in a dark bedroom while you are still half asleep, well, that's something you can explain as "dreams intruding upon reality." When, however, the door opens at 3 p.m. on a sun-through- clouds-afternoon, while you construct a mundane kid-pleasing Stromboli it was darn alarming.

I leapt backwards, reaching gazelle-like heights* I've never before achieved, landing all the way across the kitchen. By the time the time those pink shoes hit the vinyl, though, my ghostly idol had gone.  



~~Juliet Waldron

Halloween for Skittish People by Connie Vines

We all know my Zombies (Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow) are not The Walking Death type of Zombies.  Everyone who has attended my yearly Spooktacular Dinner, know it’s not at guts-and-gore type affair.  I’m not a scared cat, exactly.  I simply have the gift of a very vivid imagination.  The type of imagination that produces a nightmare when I watch “Meerkat  Manor”, “Fantasia”, or any war movie.

Connie's gone blonde!

So what movies are recommended for skittish people?

1. Hocus Pocus
2. The Addams Family
3.  It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
4. Ghostbusters
5. Frankenweenie
6. Halloweentown
7. The Nightmare Before Christmas
8. Little Shop of Horrors

What move do I always watch?  It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.  I love, love this movie.  Snoopy in the pumpkin patch always makes me smile.

What Halloween movie is your favorite?  What movie frightens you out of your wits?  What movie give you nightmares?

Well, Frankenweenie did it for me.  With The Nightmare Before Christmas came in a close second in the ‘giving Connie a nightmare’ category.

The crazy thing is, I can read and re-read the novel Dracula by Braun Stoker and watch the 1990’s movie version of Dracula and I am fine.  (Dracula, like The Phantom of the Opera, falls under the umbrella of tortured hero and love story –in my mind anyway).

I’ve posted pictures of a few party ideas and treats I’d like to share.  (visit my Pinterest page).

 

Please ‘treat’ yourself to a book from BWL this Halloween!

Link to Connie's Books  Click  Here

See you next month,

Connie

Ancient Aliens: Theory or Ancient History? by Vijaya Schartz

Have we been visited by alien species in the ancient past? Are we the product of genetic manipulation by technologically advanced ancient visitors in need of labor? Are the gods of so many different Earth cultures aliens who, in ancient times, came down from other star systems to teach, nurture, and facilitate the evolution of the human race? All these questions might seem outrageous to many people

Of course, the mainstream scientists refuse to examine the evidence for fear or being mocked, and governments are quick to deny and dismiss any theory that doesn't fit the accepted standard. Their very secrecy on the topic shows they know more than they admit. Few have enough courage to tell the world that our history books should be rewritten. Recently, however, some eminent government officials came forward after retirement, and are now speaking up in many countries, and if you research and consider the evidence, the ancient alien theory is not farfetched at all.

Ancient texts, like the Mahabarata in India, describe the gods waging war in the sky, flying Vimanas, shooting arrows of light and thunder that destroyed their flying chariots of fire. Ancient cities of India, like Mohanjo Daro, are still radioactive from their destruction by a nuclear blast thousands of years ago.

The ancient Vikings believed their gods came from another world through a rainbow bridge reminiscent of a wormhole. Could the stories of Odin, Thor, and the entire Norse mythology be relating events from the past, when powerful beings came to Earth from another planet?

Could it be that the ancient texts we consider as mythology, are actual records of historical events lost in the night of time? Even the ancient testament speaks of beings coming to Earth from the heavens. God came with legions of angels and archangels organized in a very military order... they landed in devices with wheels turning inside wheels, like an anti-gravity craft.
 

Why is it that ruins in Puma Punku, in Bolivia, dated 20,000 years ago, show industrial tool marks, and the stones are cut with a precision we cannot achieve today even with lasers? These precision cut stones stack up like Lego pieces to form indestructible walls. The traditions of the local tribes say these were built not by human hands, but by the gods.

Photography has improved in giant leaps over the past few years, and pictures of other planets are becoming clearer. Are the structures on Mars and on the moon left over from an ancient civilization, dating from when the red planet was green with life? What caused its atmosphere to thin and its water to dry up? Is it what will happen to Earth if we are not careful?

I am only scratching the surface here. This world is full of mysteries, and if we bother to investigate them, we might very well discover the secret of our origins, and embrace the fact that we are not alone in the universe.

As a science fiction writer, I find this inspiring, uplifting, and I sincerely hope the people of this world start looking closely at all these clues. Now that we have the technology to analyze the evidence, we should not be afraid of the results. The truth will prevail in the end, so why resist it?

In the Ancient Enemy series, the Anasazi return from the stars after 800 years, to enslave the human race.

 In Alien Lockdown, man has established bases throughout the universe.

In the Archangel books, bad boy Michael is in deep trouble, and being half alien doesn't help at all.

HAPPY READING!

Vijaya Schartz

Blasters, swords, Romance with a Kick

http://www.vijayaschartz.com
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