First Official Journal Entry: Started Fri 5 Feb, 2016, 10:30a.m.; Finished Mon 8 Feb, 12:15a.m.


I’ve decided that in order for me to get the writing done, I will start including Journal Entries into my usual Free Write format. There are quite a few blog posts that I wish to go over, redo, and rewrite, adding details that the Free Write format doesn’t always allow for.
For those unfamiliar with Free Writing, it is an excellent exercise used in writing classes and in ones own. It can help break the dreaded Writer’s Block, as well as get to What I / You Really Want To Write About. I am a huge fan of the Free Write, probably due to the fact that I have put myself in therapy for most if my adult life (insanity runs in my family, as does denial). To do a Free Write, take a piece if paper and pen (or other writing tool) and simply write. You can choose the amount of time — five or ten minutes being the “norm”. Write whatever comes into your head. Do not worry about spelling or grammar. You can write a story, a piem, ideas for future stories, your grocery list, “I can’t think if anything to write” over and over if that us what is in your head. It does not matter as long as you do not stop writing.


“Zombies! That is a voodoo superstition originating in Africa. You are in Ireland, young man. No, I mean the marbh bheo.”

She pronounced this as “ma’rof vo”.
[From Peter Tremayne, Marbh Bheo, p. 602]

I’ve just finished reading Zombies!: Tales of the Walking Dead on Scribd. Check it out:

There are a lot of stories that stood out for me. Overall, the book stayed away from the usual zombies that you see in The Walking Dead and a lot of popular books nowadays. This made it scarier, as the reader doesn’t know what kind if undead — or living dead — ghoul to expect.
R. Chetwynd-Hayes, The Ghouls, is one of these. A man is in his flat when the doorbell rings. Answering the door, he is met by an obviously dead man saying he, “Oosed o love hore . . .”/ “used to live here”, p. 105. As the man seeks help he learns that there will be no help coming as the idea of using the dead as free labour has come from the top.

In Charles L. Grant’s, Quietly Now, a man knows there is something evil in his town. He is friends with a woman and her two young sons; one of the boys claims his teachers is a vampire and lives in the basement at the school. His recent ex is now with the local head of police, so things are not looking good when her body turns up dead. One of the best quotes comes near the end (I’ve removed the woman’s name for those who don’t like “spoilers”):

“Just a little pain,” [she] whispered, dead wind over velvet. “Don’t worry, just a little pain, a little dying. Then I’ll say the words, the incan-tation, and you’ll be just as good as new.”
P. 213

There are many other stories that kept me up, reading until I knew I would be exhausted the next day, but didn’t care. H. P. Lovecraft has an entry that, on the surface, seems a bit like a take off of Frankenstein, but it isn’t. It really isn’t. There is the slave trader who gets his just desserts. An artist who stumbles into something he should not have but, unable to forget what he found, includes the images in his drawings — and that is when the real horror begins. A happily married couple who buy and renovate a house only to find there is a reason none of the previous owners have stayed long enough to finish the renovations. And so many more. If you enjoy being scared, this book is definitely for you.


That seems to be a big thing online and in reviews nowadays.


Ever since I was a child I would read the first chapter of a book, then the last few pages — alright, sometimes the entire last chapter — and then go back to chapter two and continue straight on through. Why? Well, in Life, we don’t know what is going to happen. Even if one ascribes to the Multiple Universe / Multiverse Theory (in which there are many universes like this, and each choice you make leads you on a certain oath. But there is a different universe, one in which the other choice was made, and that version of you experiences the result of the choice you didn’t make in this universe. Think of all if the choices you make on a daily basis: to have breakfast or to grab a cup of coffee. If you chose the coffee, in another universe, you chose the breakfast. A simple diagram of the choices you did and did not make would result in dozens of Other universes daily.)
That is why I like Spoilers. I like being told the ending. In fact, if a book or movie can keep my interest despite my knowing the ending, I consider it to be better than if I don’t know the ending. I have been driven nuts by people who will not tell me the ending! I live, day to day, not knowing what will happen; why am I not allowed to know how a stupid movie ends?

And now I will end this particular entry, in the hopes that I can do another tomorrow. Or later today, as the case may be.
The pain from the fibromyalgia (cold weather dries my skin, causing more pain when I touch things — clothing, the fur of my purring cat, my sweet son’s beautiful long hair); the herniated and bulging discs and the nerve damage my son’s dad caused when snapping my spine on his knee in front of our then six year old son; the pain in my knees…
They all conspire to keep me awake.

I have my son.
I have my grandmother.
My writing.
My cats.
Family and friends.
I have my review of Amanda Palmer’s Art of Asking, sent to me by a wonderful, generous, but complete stranger simply because I asked.
I have my hatred — the first time I have truly felt hate — towards ACS (Children’s Services in NYC) for what they have done to my son and how they have crippled me worse than my son’s dad. (I am writing the full story but it is hard to relive what they put us thru.)
And, on a lighter note, an online friend who shares my foot fetish.
I must sleep.
Normally I post at 9:30p.m. Eastern Standard Time but now , just after one a.m., will have to do.
Good night, good morning, blessed be.


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