If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contact E. B. Davis at writerswhokill@gmail.com.

Check out our March author interviews: 3/7--Karen Cantwell, 3/14--Shawn Reilly, 3/21--Annette Dashofy, and 3/28--WWK Blogger Debra Sennefelder (on her debut novel!). Please join us in welcoming these authors to WWK.

Our March Saturday Guest Blogger Schedule: 3/3-Heather Weidner, 3/10-Holly Chaille, 3/17-Margaret S. Hamilton, 3/24-Kait Carson, 3/31-Charles Saltzberg.

Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:

Tina Whittle's sixth Tai Randolph mystery, Necessary Ends, debuts on April 3, 2018. Look for it here: https://www.amazon.com/Necessary-Ends-Tai-Randolph-Book-ebook/dp/B079MS67CM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1520014972&sr=8-2&keywords=Tina+Whittle

James M. Jackson's Empty Promises, the next in the Seamus McCree mystery series (5th), will be available on April 3, 2018 at: https://www.amazon.com/Empty-Promises-Seamus-McCree-Book-ebook/dp/B078XJRYDG/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1520089649&sr=8-2&keywords=James+M.+Jackson&dpID=51kcxPsst-L&preST=_SY445_QL70_&dpSrc=srch

Dark Sister, a poetry collection, is Linda Rodriguez's tenth published book. It's available for sale here: https://mammothpublications.net/writers-m-to-z/rodriguez-linda-dark-sister/

Shari Randall's "Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood's short story, will also be published. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.

Shari Randall's second Lobster Shack Mystery, Against the Claw, will be available in August, 2018.

In addition, our prolific KM has had the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," appears in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: A Fifth Course of Chaos.


Thursday, May 20, 2010

The paranormal versus the very normal

I want to preface this blog by telling you I’m not crazy so please don’t sic the men in white coats on me.

At my school we had a French exchange programme. In Year 10 you could opt to spend a week with a French family to improve your French. When I was in Year 9 (13-14 years old), my teachers, in their infinite wisdom, decided to trial spending a weekend in France the year before the exchange. Something about accustoming us to the culture in an attempt to make the exchange less stressful. Of course, my year was the year that had that ‘privilege’.

I’m fairly certain it was around six months before we were supposed to leave for the trip that I had The Green Clipboard dream. In it, I was wandering up a hill with some of my friends, marking off what the shops on either side of the street sold. Halfway up the hill I became ill and sat down to rest in a little public garden, hidden from the street.

The reason the dream stuck in my head was because my blank map was clipped on to this tatty, murky green clipboard. I’d just bought a snazzy black one with a flip cover and decorated it with silver sparkly star stickers (I was 13 so cut me some slack, okay?) and I couldn’t work out why I hadn’t been using that one in my dream.

Several months later, my friends and I were lining up to board the bus for the weekend trip to France. As we climbed aboard, one of the teachers handed me a worse for wear, murky green one. I didn’t think much of it at the time because, hey, we were going to France.

What happened to my beautiful, starry black one? I’d used it to hand some homework in to my Home Economics teacher a few weeks earlier and she still hadn’t given it back (she kept it on purpose, I’m telling you, it was the stars that caught her fancy!).

On the last evening of our trip, all the students and teachers were supposed to have a meal together but my teachers chose a restaurant where there wasn’t enough space. We were split into groups and my friends and I were in the second sitting. The teachers, who were all in the first sitting by the way, gave us a small task to occupy us while we waited (can you guess where this is going?).

We were handed blank maps and told to walk up to the road the restaurant was on and mark off what each business was. To this day I haven’t worked out the purpose of this task but like the good girl I was, I walked up the hill marking off the businesses.

It wasn’t until I was halfway up the hill that I remembered my dream and a tsunami of dizziness and déjà vu hit me. Feeling seriously woozy, I needed to sit down. And what should be right in front of us but a public garden.

Years after the incident I’m still not absolutely sure if I had the dream before or after the real incident happened. I’m fairly sure it was before, but if that’s true that would mean I had a premonition, which I’m not even sure I believe in. Never mind, why of all the things in the world would I have a premonition about walking up a hill? Kinda sucks as glimpsing the future goes, doesn’t it?

The Green Clipboard Dream was a one off. I’m not psychic. I’m not claiming to have ESP in any way, shape or form. I mean, I know when my sister’s going to call because I’m either desperate for the loo or about to eat my lunch/tea, but I think that’s more of a Sod’s Law thing than anything supernatural.

The reason I’m telling you this (at the risk of sounding thoroughly unstable) is to hopefully give you a better idea why I can write a decidedly unparanormal paranormal with a sceptic as a protagonist, but also a very paranormal paranormal with a ghost as the protagonist (I also write an urban fantasy series about vampires, werewolves and the like but I think we’re best leaving that out of this for now).

I’m not quite a believer but I’m not quite a sceptic either. When I see a dark smudge out of the corner of my vision I always think two things. The first is that I need to get my eyes checked and the second is a quote from Hamlet

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy...”

Act 1 scene 5


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