A not-so-chilling ghost story

I believe in ghosts, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. (Well, not too ashamed, anyway.) Believing in ghosts is not unusual for folks born and raised in the South.

I grew up listening to my grandmother’s “true” tales of things that go bump in the night. I’ve personally witnessed a few hair-raising incidents that increased my belief in the paranormal.

If you’ve ever watched a ghost hunting show, you know that I’ve just described the childhood of every star on every paranormal show that has ever aired on TV.

But I have no desire to go ghost hunting like the people on those shows. I want to use my experiences to write spine-tingling stories of the dead. Unfortunately, it’s not going as well as I’d hoped.

I’m trying to finish Once Haunted, Twice Shy and get it online in January. The ghostly scenes aren’t very scary—to put it mildly. Footsteps on the stairs and creaking doors might be good for a supernatural horror movie. But for a book…not so much. And I can hardly have my ghost popping out of a closet and yelling boo.

Writing Once Haunted is proving to be quite the challenge. It’s difficult for me to even find ghost stories that I enjoy reading. Maybe that means it’s nearly impossible to write a good one?

I hope not, because I’m determined to write an amazingly spooky ghost story. When my e-book hits Amazon Kindle in January, I expect tons of comments from readers saying how they had to sleep with the lights on for days after reading it.

I know… I’m a big dreamer. Probably makes you wonder if I really am in my right mind.

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