Tag Archives: supernatural

False Starts, Fresh Starts

Cathar Fortress, by Duncan Harris

Cathar Fortress, by Duncan Harris

Today I’m starting over.

Again.

For the third time, actually. To try and scale the fortress walls and rescue the prisoner that is my YA supernatural novel The Shaded.

Yes, the first two attempts stalled, and the thousands of words left behind on those 100+ pages often felt like they were being squeezed from a brain that had turned into stone.

And yet after several months of distance and maybe a little amnesia, newfound enthusiasm for the project has inspired me to pull it all apart and put it back together in an exceptional way to make it finally come alive.  

I’m scared, sure, but still tenacious, and today I gird myself for battle by looking to Liam Neeson’s character in the movie “The Grey,” (a surprisingly poignant film that I highly recommend) for inspiration:

“Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I’ll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day.”

Okay, it might be a bit overwrought to compare the plight of the last survivor of a plane crash about to fight an Alpha male wolf with a writer in insulated booties tackling the blank page, but hey, when we writers aren’t busy being neurotic we’re playing dress-up in our melodrama. Or something like that.

But hey, self-doubt and fear can be just a vicious to a writer as a pack of hungry wolves, and where old Liam had a knife and his Irish grit, I’ve got my imagination and bullheadedness. Will it carry me through?

I’m an optimist, so yes, I believe it will.

But I could still use some help, fellow creators out there. Tell me about the projects that kicked you to the curb a few times before you ultimately struck back and conquered. Share your hard fought success stories.

A Demon’s Diary

Photo by M.O. Stevens

In the course of doing research for my supernatural YA novel, I recently attended an estate sale for the late, obscure occultist Jarvin Vucklebog. Vucklebog, a contemporary of Anton LaVey impersonators, was the rare purveyor of black magic who shunned the spotlight, so good luck finding anything written about him.

Anyway, I’d only planned on browsing that day; I wasn’t in the market for foam pentagram hats, or Ouija board TV trays, or Jack Parsons’ mustache.

But there was a recent Vucklebog acquisition that did interest me, and the price, surprisingly, was just right. For $20, I picked up a black iron obelisk, about three feet tall, engraved from base to tapered peak on its four sides with several rows of mystic symbols, signs and ciphers. According to the sale guide, the obelisk was the diary of the demon-being commonly known as Xyzeethulu, no relation to Quezeethulu, though both entities frequented the Plegorthian sector of the Fourth Crusted Layer of sub-Hades.

I was at a loss to translate it, of course, but opportunity soon arrived when it was announced that everyone who had purchased an item from the sale was invited to a group seance to communicate with Vucklebog’s spirit. After an eternity of table-rapping and bad lemonade, Vucklebog finally announced himself through his beloved lhasa apso Buckles, and I was able to make my question heard over the clamor that ensued. There seemed to be no response when suddenly I was overtaken by a spastic fit of automatic writing and produced a translation key.

As I convalesced in our local asylum, I began the task of deciphering the diary. It’s been slow going, but what I’ve discovered so far offers chilling insight into the demon mind…

DIARY OF XYZEETHULU – January 23, 2012

“I’m so mad at Devon right now I could just spit the River Styx. He knows me (or I thought he did), knows what’s in my wheelhouse. On video I’m going to do one of two things, eat babies as a ritual sacrifice or push the souls of pre-adolescent girls a smidge darker than they already are. Any other YouTube channel, I’m a freaking star, but Devon’s? He won’t even let me audition unless I agree to eat 666 steak burritos on camera, because hi-ho isn’t it funny that when I pass gas hell-fire shoots out of my butt and my eyes. Stupid genetics. Thanks dads. I know I promised Dr. Baralyxneluthu-Legion Class IV no more poltergeists, but Devon is really  pushing my Hot Buttons of Legorah Dominion, burned into my flesh on my 16th Searing.”

To say this has been a real boon for my novel, is an understatement. Stay tuned for more installments of…A Demon’s Diary.

Research

Photo by Squirrelist

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”

-Albert Einstein-

I’ll be honest: I hate doing research before or during the writing of a story. Just the thought of it transports me back to my high school and college days, when I would do almost anything (even clean my room) to avoid actually cracking open a textbook to study for a test or prepare a paper. I wasn’t a bad student, really Mom, I wasn’t, just not always the most motivated.

And perhaps this scholastic allergy flared up again when I sat down to write my first novel, The Chronicles of What Happened, by Cam Hanson. The story deals with regression therapy and analysis, two areas I had little knowledge of, but I didn’t immerse myself in either subject before I started writing. I decided to know as much as my fifteen-year-old protagonist/narrator would know after observing his parents being treated by a mostly unethical therapist who until very recently had been a hypnotist hired out for children’s birthday parties. So I didn’t go in completely blind. I did buy a book  called Second Childhood: Hypno-Play Therapy With Age-Regressed Adults, written by Marian Kaplan Shapiro, which did give me a good sense of how a therapist would actually conduct a regression session. But then I filtered that information through my characters and let my imagination fill in the rest.

Alas, as any writer knows, even minimal research is essential in order to spin an honest and authentic tale. And of course I understand its value. Research can aid in enriching the details of every element important to a strong, engaging story, and at the same time improve (hopefully) the intelligence and insight of the author. So even though, in my opinion, it’s robust imagination that is power, knowledge too deserves its own pedestal.

Research is on my mind again as I continue to develop my next project, a YA supernatural-horror novel called The Shaded. The genre itself leaves me plenty of room to imagine and make things up, but central to my story is a sinister occultist organization whose front company is a vanity press that produces nonfiction books on the supernatural, the occult, and various unexplained phenomena. Even though, ala Cam Hanson, my narrator/protagonist is a teenager unfamiliar with most of this, there are several characters who he interacts with who have spent their lives devoted to this area.

So I must know what they know.  I must bite the bullet and hunker down and embark on some serious learning. At least its a subject I’m actually interested in and curious about; I no longer have to fear it’ll be like the chemistry class in 11th grade that I only passed because I helped the teacher clean the lab after school. Right?

Anyway, while I regress and repair that trauma, I’d love to hear what you think about research when it comes to writing fiction. And if you happen to be into the supernatural, the paranormal, etc., please feel free to recommend any good books on the subject.