What freaks writers, is good.
29 Jun
I’m living in a classic older building in Boston, the kind with spiral staircases and spooky halls, and a room in the basement (off the laundry, off the mailboxes) where everyone leaves their trash and recycling. Which is what I did this afternoon.
So, picture this:
Me, shoving a pizza box into a bin.
Me, looking down as a rat runs past.
Me, screaming my head off.
I love animals. I really love animals. And I’m typically a calm, collected, gal. But seeing that black blur streak past my foot and scurry behind the trash made me make a sound I’ve never heard before. At least, not from me. And, to be honest, it might not have been a rat at all. I didn’t get a good look. It could have totally been an alien, a mutant, something risen from the bowels of the earth. A baby Cthulu. Maybe a Tribble. Definitely a mystery.
Because even what freaks us writers out, fascinates us.
Everything is inspiration.
A pyrokinetic and former car thief, Eddie cannot refuse an assignment to cross the continent in order to rescue an extraordinary woman in peril…even though he fears losing control of the destructive power of flame at his fingertips.
The last of her shape-shifting kind, Lyssa hides in the abandoned tunnels beneath Manhattan. Like Eddie, fire is her weapon, her destiny…and her curse. For beneath Lyssa’s extraordinary beauty are dangerous secrets…and even darker, nearly irresistible urges... (November 2011)
When the bond Maxine Kiss shares with Zee and the boys-the demons tattooed on her skin-is deliberately severed, the hunter is left vulnerable and unprotected. For the first time in ten thousand years, the boys have a taste of freedom-without Maxine’s guiding influence.
As they grow more violent and unpredictable, Maxine starts to fear the little demons will lose their minds without their attachment to her. But reuniting won’t be easy, as a great temptation waits for her little demons : a chance to return to their lives….and unleash hell on earth. (December 2011)
You know I’m with ya, sis! Amen to THAT!
Oh, hate to tell you, it probably WAS a mutant …
I vote for a Tribble! It’s so frustrating that fiction is loaded with terrific little furrmeisters we’ll never get to hold: tribbles, dust bunnies (Jayne Ann Krentz) . . . taking votes here. Anybody else?
I am a social worker who has done home visits in all types of neighborhoods.
I made a mistake when a very innocent 5 year old asked me if I wanted the meet the family pet. I said yes.
The child skipped off while I spoke to the mom as we sat at the kitchen table. The kid returned with a large black and brown rat that was dumped into my lap. You know they can’t really train you for these types of situations. I looked down into the pink eyes and turned to the smiling child. “What’s it’s name?” “Rat.” “Nice name makes sense.” I go back to talking to mom. After 3 min (yes I kept glancing at the clock) the kid picked up Rat and took it back some where into the house.
true or a teenage mutuant ninja turtle