Several years ago, I wanted to write a very, scary story. So, I looked in my little bag of tricks. But guess what? I found no material I deemed as particularly frightening. A writer without anything to write? Now that is a terrifying thought. Not to worry, though. If you’ve had the same problem, and don’t know where to start, you might want to do what I did.
Look close to home.
Have you ever sensed a glacial chill in the corner of a room, but there were no sources of air flow? Ever feel a frigid finger tap you on the shoulder, but you turn to find no one there? Admit it. We’ve all encountered those instances. They’re wonderful jewels from which to glean tidbits for stories.
Think back. Do you remember hearing tales of your older brother’s car stalled in the middle of nowhere? In the black of night? For no apparent reason? What was the light three times the size of his vehicle that hovered above? Does he refuse to talk about the incident, even though he claims he doesn’t believe in UFOs, or UAPs as they are known today? What really happened that night? You might want to dig a little deeper (or search a little higher) and find out. The story could be in the stars.
On a stormy night, did your sister smell hamburger cooking in the home of your now-deceased parents, the house where she currently lives? She wasn’t cooking anything at the time. What was that Friday night ritual as you were growing up? Oh yeah: hamburgers, chips, pickles, and settling in to enjoy a movie. The spirits must have been hungry that night. I wonder what movie they wanted to watch.
Are there any mysterious, unexplained deaths in your family?
What about your uncle’s suspicious suicide, and talk of the fortune in gold he buried in the cellar of your grandmother’s house? The money was never found, or was it? After your grandmother died, didn’t your cousin disown the family over some minor miscommunication, and move to the Cayman Islands? Sounds a little fishy to me, but it sure makes for a great tale.
Don’t forget to check out old pictures too.
Pictures can be a treasure trove for creativity. Look for obscure details in them you can use. Did your best friend show you photographs she took while hiking in the woods? It was a clear day, no rain or prevailing moisture, but several pictures turned out with transparent, watery bubbles throughout. And if you looked closely, there were faces within the orbs. Oh, the stories they could tell.
Speaking of photos, I should have known the cat—the one we speak of as Psycho Boy—was going to be trouble when a dark aura appeared in pictures that we took of him. Better beware of those omens. And maybe sleep with one eye open.
Draw inspiration from personal experience.
I remember riding in the car with my sister after leaving the hospital the day our dad died. Her cell phone rang. It was me calling her. But my phone was in my purse. We still say it was Dad sending reassurances from the great beyond.
Ever hear voices in your house when you’re alone, and there’s no radio or TV on? I swear I’ve been awakened several times in the middle of the night by my dead husband’s voice. He must have been looking for his favorite T-shirt, the one I donated to Goodwill in 1995.
Have you experienced any unusual occurrences like ones portrayed in the movies?
I remember a day straight from Hitchcock’s movie, The Birds. Scores of crows were having a party in my yard. They lined trees, electrical wires, and buildings, so much so that it looked like the objects on which they perched had fur. I thought it rather amusing. . . at first. Then I heard a sound coming from upstairs. Three crows looked down through my skylight, beaks tap, tap, tapping on the glass. They sported evil, avian grins. And they wanted in badly. Lucky for me they didn’t succeed. But they might make it into a spooky story someday.
Not scary enough for you?
A couple years ago, as I was driving, I saw a bright light in the night sky. Quite unexpectedly, it shot straight up in the air and then flew horizontally—at an extreme rate of speed—toward the direction of my home. When I arrived, it was hovering in the east and remained there for quite some time. I watched until it disappeared, as if the firmaments had swallowed it. I told my family that if they didn’t hear from me the next morning, I’d probably been abducted by aliens. Once again, luck was on my side. Or maybe I wasn’t a suitable specimen.
I could probably go on and on but, for now, I think I have enough to get me started on a bone-chiller.
I bet you do too. Don’t be afraid. Peek into the closet. Dust off the cobwebs. Rattle some bones, and search for your own material. I’m sure you’ll be happily surprised—or scared witless—at what surfaces.
