Horror/Scary: October 02, 2019 Issue [#9782] |
This week: The Stuff Screams Are Made Of Edited by: W.D.Wilcox More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
This newsletter is about all things horror, from a haunted house to a monster mouse, it's all in the scare.
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The Stuff Screams Are Made Of
It was a dark and stormy night.
Naw...that's no good. How about this?
There are dreams that hide inside us like bats in a cave, dreams that know only the night and feed upon the pale glow of the moon; bad dreams, that have made a vessel of the darkness and sail across the long nights looking for someone they can inhabit. Terrifying dreams, that enter us like a cold wind and dwell there driving the dreamer to despair, madness, or even death. Most of these dreams have never been told because words are unworthy of the task. This is one of them. You have been warned . . . . .
-"The Dream"
The house was odd, not odd because of who lived in it, but odd the way you can sense something's not quite right about a place. It slumped down like a tired old man in an overgrowth of weeds and ferns that wove their spidery webs together into a green embroidery of cascading bougainvillea, laurels, palms, and fragrant eucalyptuses. I had hoped that all it really needed was a bit of repair and a new coat of paint, but the way the house sagged, it appeared as though paint would simply slide off. There had been an earthquake way back when, and looking at the place from the roadside, it seemed to squat upon its foundation like a hungry ogre patiently hiding in the bushes and waiting to be fed.
-"The Photograph of Carolina Stump"
When Joe finally tried to swim out of the depths of sleep, he felt different somehow. He didn’t know why, he just didn't feel quite himself. Besides, his arm was asleep, like it gets when you lay on it wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he was unable to move it out from under his torso. He fell asleep again, too tired to get up, and too tired to give a damn about his life. As he slept, his foot felt like a million pins and needles were poking him, and he surmised that it too had fallen asleep making it impossible to remain in bed. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and let them wander aimlessly around the room. They locked on the far corner, where the shadows danced wildly in the weak light falling in through the window.
There was a man standing there.
Terror greater than any he had ever known crept over him, and then his bladder voided itself in a gush of heat. But Joe hadn't the slightest idea of that or anything else. His fear had overcome all rationality, and he was now wide awake. No sound escaped him, not even the slightest squeak; he was as incapable of sound as he was of thought. Someone was in the room.
-"The Premonition"
Gray, he was, and sunken-cheeked, as though too much of his essential essence had been somehow sucked out. His skin was thin and crumpled, and he felt like a balled-up piece of paper that had been absently thrown into the garbage. Hatch knew he had not gone home with death, but they had definitely been at the dance together. To Hatch, death had always been a breath of honesty, a wounded-wonder that he courted like the ultimate truth, and within this grotesque relationship, he developed into a man who had eventually murdered his own soul, and was simply living only to die.
-"Stairway To Hell"
Until We Meet Again,
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Just What The Doctor Ordered
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DEAD LETTERS
Quick-Quill screams:
I'm right there with you. I love movies and when I write I'm writing as if the book were unfolding in a movie. I want the reader to see the detail of the setting and action. Now that could be a problem as movies aren't books.(thank goodness) I have transition problems at times. I just heard a James Patterson book. His chapters are scenes. That means he doesn't have to transition from one scene to another. They are in one place one scene and at another in the next scene, maybe even the next day.
ChrisDaltro-Chasing Moonbeams does a Holler Back:
Thank you so very much for featuring my short story in your amazing WDC Newsletter:Horror/Scary: "Write in Image". I am honored and proud. -Christina Daltro
allen-richard plugs:
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Thank you all so much for responding to my newsletter. It's always good to know someone out there is reading it.
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