From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!
Traditional Scottish Prayer
(As we have no contributor this week, we'll have an open forum.)
The time of year is approaching when spirits walk and werewolves howl. In a few weeks we’ll be opening our doors to all sorts of ghoulies and ghosties who may go bump in the night, but who will take our candy, not our safety.
But later on, round the fire, we might tell ghost stories as we pop hazelnuts on a hearth shovel and drink a cup of mulled cider or two. Which tale of terror has haunted YOU?
For me it was The Supernatural Omnibus that early instilled the habit of insomnia. Growing up in a country that barely had electricity, let alone TV, and where most radio programs were in Mandarin or Malay, there was little to do in the hot tropical afternoons except read. So read I did: “Man-Size in Marble”; “Brickett Bottom”; and “Oke of Okehurst.” “The Judge’s House” gave me horrible nightmares, but the story that made me actually walk in my sleep was the masterpiece of them all, the pièce de resistance: “Carmilla.”
This vampire story haunted me for years. I refuse to state in this forum how old I was when I finally stopped believing in vampires—it would be too embarrassing and I’d lose every ounce of my mojo. But for years I would wake up with pounding heart, staring into the darkness, imagining that a large black cat had leaped lightly on to my bed; I’d imagine that any minute I would feel an icy stream against my neck, which would be the vampire sucking my blood.
As I grew older I grew wiser; I refused to read the works of Stephen King and protected myself by not reading The Exorcist. (I had a nightmare just from someone’s description of the film version of “The Exorcist,” by the way.) I didn’t see “The Shining,” because I knew exactly what it would do to me.
So take your cup of cider in hand, gather us round the hearth, and in the flickering light of the flames tell us your story: the book you read that gave you nightmares, the story you’ve never forgotten, the one you avoid rereading to this day. We’re all ears, listening as you begin.