I've been interested in the paranormal for some time now. Back in the early noughties I was a member of a paranormal investigation group that tackled and discussed all sorts of interesting subjects ranging from hauntings to dowsing, alian abduction to psychic phenomena. The group closed after a few years, but a year or so ago a new group opened in my home town and I was first in line to join. This group is focussed on investigating haunted places in as objective a manner as possible and to date we've spent nights in haunted railway stations, hotels and mansions and museums. Have I seen a ghost, yet? I can only say almost. Not sure what it was that we saw, but we all saw it at the same time. The big question, of course, is, how scary is all this? Well, I've been with group members who have almost jumped out of their skins at some of the phenomena, but for some reason I don't find being in a dark old haunted building in the dead of night particularly scary. That might seem like an odd thing to say but for me, we're there to investigate and for the evening to be worthwhile you want things to happen. No good calling out and when something goes bump, dying of fright. I will admit to one girly scream when someone or something knocked on the door of an empty room behind me, but I have done lone vigils and have managed not to run in terror. It really is a matter of keeping the mind fully grounded rather than letting it run riot and start a panic.
So, what does this all have to do with stories that make you write them? I'm not psychic, but I do believe places have atmospheres and store memories of the past. About seven years ago I went on an outing that took us to a disused world-war two airfield where the kids went go-karting. While they were doing that, I went for a walk across the stark cracked concrete through which grew clumps of grass. A few newpapers were blowing about in the wind and some of the old air traffic control buildings were still there, empty, sad, disused. I've read a few real-life reports of hauntings of these places and as I walked around the story for my World War 2 romance Waiting For Eternity started to form in my head. By the time the kids were ready to leave I had a full blown story and couldn't wait to get home to write it. I've never written a story so fast, and never cried so much when I got to the end. I remember the husband coming in to see what the wailing was all about and had to sheepishly tell him it was all right, I was just writing a new story. I think he did an eye-roll and hastily left.
As authors, we're always racking our brains for new story ideas, for unique twists on well-worn plots, but sometimes some magic happens and a story is gifted to us just from being in the right place at the right time. Maybe my interest in the paranormal, combined with my love of stories that transend time all played a part in bringing Waiting For Eternity together, but that old disused air-field was undoubtedly the trigger that set things in motion. I still can't think of the place without a shiver going down my spine.
So, what does this all have to do with stories that make you write them? I'm not psychic, but I do believe places have atmospheres and store memories of the past. About seven years ago I went on an outing that took us to a disused world-war two airfield where the kids went go-karting. While they were doing that, I went for a walk across the stark cracked concrete through which grew clumps of grass. A few newpapers were blowing about in the wind and some of the old air traffic control buildings were still there, empty, sad, disused. I've read a few real-life reports of hauntings of these places and as I walked around the story for my World War 2 romance Waiting For Eternity started to form in my head. By the time the kids were ready to leave I had a full blown story and couldn't wait to get home to write it. I've never written a story so fast, and never cried so much when I got to the end. I remember the husband coming in to see what the wailing was all about and had to sheepishly tell him it was all right, I was just writing a new story. I think he did an eye-roll and hastily left.
As authors, we're always racking our brains for new story ideas, for unique twists on well-worn plots, but sometimes some magic happens and a story is gifted to us just from being in the right place at the right time. Maybe my interest in the paranormal, combined with my love of stories that transend time all played a part in bringing Waiting For Eternity together, but that old disused air-field was undoubtedly the trigger that set things in motion. I still can't think of the place without a shiver going down my spine.
