Friday 6 September 2024

A Glimpse of the Ghostly: Em Starr

The Black Beacon Book of Ghosts will send shivers up your spine this Halloween. The Kindle version is already available for pre-order at just $1.99 instead of $3.99 and you can add the anthology to your Goodreads "want to read" list today. The anthology will be officially released on the 11th of October 2024. To get you in the mood and give you a little insight into the workings of their minds, our contributing authors are sharing their own haunting experiences with you. Read on, if you're not fainthearted!

The House in Charlotte Street

I often wonder if writers are literary conduits for the other side, like an antenna that's tuned in to the whispers of those who came before. If the muse is found by lifting the veil, glimpsing life through another's eyes, piecing together the jigsaw puzzle of a semi-shared reality—that would make us the ultimate ghost writers, right?! 

It's a theory that I'm yet to dismiss for two main reasons. First, when the muse visits it feels absolutely other-worldly. Second, because I believe in ghosts. I've lived in various haunted houses throughout my life. My first home in Newport was riddled with paranormal activity – my mother still talks about our house in Charlotte Street, that was always cold and had a foul smell no matter how much incense she burned; how the manhole was always open no matter how many times my father closed it, how she woke to a presence so strong by my cradle, she was too scared to breathe. I wonder if those spirits followed us to the next house, where I vividly remember my imaginary friend, Schuey, telling me his mother Magda wouldn't let him play. Was it a coincidence they both had Old Teutonic names, which, as a four year old, I'd never heard before? I'm pretty sure I was experiencing something supernatural. Look into the eyes of this kid and tell me she's not hanging with a ghost or two! 

Since then, I've seen shadowed figures in empty halls, felt breath on my face cold as winter, and fingers on my shoulder as real as my own, but nothing feels more "cross-connected" than tapping into a solid writing sesh. Who knows—maybe my story, Red Dirt, is the afterlife account of a real housewife from rural Australia, who has been waiting for her story to be told.

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