It was time for our self-imposed writing retreat. For new subscribers, my gal pals and I visit each others’ houses for the purpose of writing.* But, as my friends S.C. Durbois keenly observed, you need to fill the tank every once in a while so that you can keep driving.**
* What ends up happening is that we accomplish very little writing, and we do a lot of gal pal things.
** My own observation is that I stop a lot for gas. Or I’m running on empty. Choose whichever analogy you like the best.
My other friend E.O. Connors convinced us to go to a supposedly haunted asylum, which may or may not have been the Seaside Sanatorium in Waterford, CT. It is not open to the public. I didn’t see any “No Trespassing” signs … but the very obvious chain link fence might have clued us in.
This rendezvous was my first urban exploration experience. It may or may not have been dark inside, and we forgot to bring flashlights. But, our “super computer phones” (as S.C. said) to the rescue.
Except that … and I cannot overstate this here … but when you are in a haunted asylum, no amount of light can save you from the impending darkness that surrounds your very soul.
In other words, I was scared sh*tless, with or without any flashlight.
The place is said to be haunted, and it was quite creepy. It has an accompanying nurses’ house, which is just as abandoned and twice as creepy. I staunchly refused to go near that one because the outside looked like a demon. Seriously. With two eyes and a big mouth to eat us.
Two creepy eyes and a big mouth. Describes demons and many people I know.
At one point, we may or may not have been inside, and I may or may not have refused to walk down to the other side of the floor. My haunted-Spidey sense was tingling, folks. There was some supernatural stuff going on in that direction that I wanted to be no part of. I was super convinced that walking down there would result in me being possessed by a demon.*** (Maybe the same demon who took over the nurses’ house. Idk.)
And, like, I kept taking pictures of creepy things. And they would leave me. They left me. In a haunted asylum.
Left. Me. In. A. Haunted. Asylum.
Seriously. Didn’t they know the person who gets possessed is the one left behind???????????? Without a flashlight, okay!!!!!!!!!
*** My friends very sanely agreed not to be possessed by demons, and we may or may not have refused to go in that direction.
The Book Promos
If you want some more of her travels, E.O. Connors has a wicked sense of humor. You can sign up to her newsletter here to grab her free travel story “How to ruin your day in Santorini: A Port Guide.” Her memoir is coming soon! You can also check out her blog.
And speaking of totally awesome, I’m happy to offer S.C.‘s book. She is also an incredible artist, and she does illustrations of her stuff. Here is “The Spokes of Wheels & Co,” a 1920’s cowboy mystery on the Atlantic.
This week, we have another awesome all-genre great giveaway! (See what I did there with the a’s and the g’s?) You can really find a little bit of everything that you want to read, just in time for sitting on the beach.
Giggles & Chills more to your liking? We have an all-genre giveaway for that, too. (Don’t ask me why it’s an all-genre giveaway if it’s for funny, mysteries, suspense, or horror books.) I’m going to grab “The Case of the Missing Monkey.” Mostly because “missing monkey” is a funny phrase.
I’m still collecting responses to what kind of novelette you might want to read from me. Thus far, I’ve had several people respond with “anything except a romance.” True dat.
Also, let me know if you want me to have my friend S.C. or E.O. do a takeover of my newsletter and write about one of her urban explorations. I also have an inkling to go stay in a haunted hotel or two. I’ll bring a flashlight next time. And possibly a priest.