Paranormal Phenomena and Writer's Muse

  You would think I'd have trouble coming up with something to write about each week. Granted, some weeks I do have to sit and think, but those times are usually due to the fact I want to tell a tale my readers will like. It has to be a short tale, since anything longer and in-depth is kept in reserve for the diaries I publish. I just don't have time to write a long, involved story every week. Like most of you, I'm still "living" life, not experiencing it from another dimension. (The most comes from the fact, as some of my regular readers know, I have a ghost read my blog now and then.)
  I've mentioned before that paranormal incidents abound in my home. One of the most frequent questions I get when I mention something that has happened around here is: "Well, why don't you know more about the ghost you saw?" These folks don't understand that I don't have time to sit down and chat two or three or more times a day with one of my supernatural residents. See the last sentence in the previous paragraph. J
  Yes, many times I go out looking for ghosts, searching for paranormal occurrences to investigate. Natch, we call ourselves paranormal investigators as well as ghost hunters. I like ghost hunters the best, but I'll go by either. I love doing this, but I want to plan ahead and give the ghost hunt and the ghosts and spirits we encounter the respect and attention they deserve. I believe that's why what my group and I do is rather more successful than what we see on the TV.
  Other times, something will just totally slap me in the face and demand my attention. You can't always predict when the paranormal will intrude into your life, even when you make your plans and open your gifts to communication. Yesterday, January 5, 2013, showed me this year will continue to involve these wonderful occurrences.
  Aunt Belle's granddaughter, Tara, has shown a measure of psychic ability. Since her mother, Sammi, Aunt Belle's daughter, has also experienced the paranormal, I don't believe the adage that psychic ability skips a generation. In fact, many of us descended down Aunt Belle's side of the family have this gift. Some have developed it; some have squelched it. Tara's brother, Cody, another of Aunt Belle's grandchildren, has an extremely vast gift. The story I was working on for my next set of diaries involved Tara, Cody, Sammi and Aunt Belle's other daughter, Shari, as well as another young man who accompanied them.
  I'd asked Tara to come by and help me take down my huge house full of Christmas decorations, and she arrived around ten a.m. The previous day, I'd begun working on the next diary story, which I'm calling Hell House of Horrors. When I write, my office ends up filled with scattered piles of notes and pictures. I left everything where it was, knowing it would be there when I got back to it. No one else cleans in my office, although Tara did sweep for me.
  Along with Annie, my sister, we started tearing down decorations and putting back up the things I use the other ten and a half months of the year. I was standing in the dining room when Tara came up to me with a puzzled expression on her face. One of those extremely strong feelings of paranormal energy accompanied her, and at first, I wasn't sure if it was a resident ghost or something else. We got sidetracked into a discussion immediately, so I'm still uncertain who it was. There are times, however, when I've been led to believe my Muse is "real." Otherwise, why would I feel this energy so many times when I'm writing or researching?
  "I saw the pictures you have spread out beside your computer," Tara said. "They're the ones taken at that horrible house where Cody got attacked."
  "Uh huh," I said. "I'm writing up that story for my next diary. In fact, I wanted to talk with you today to refresh my memory about some of the things that happened that night."
  She shivered. "It was bad. And another weird thing is that just a couple days ago, I was telling my fiancé Josh about that night! I can't believe it. Here I was, thinking and talking about it, then I walk in today and you're working on that very story."
  I laughed. "Believe it. Your psychic ability probably picked up on what I was doing. That happens sometimes, even at a distance."
  She continued to look amazed, which is how a lot of people feel as they grow into their gifts. I was already realizing this was one of those out-of-the-blue incidents that fascinate me.
  "I need to sit down and write out what happened that night," Tara said. "I don't want to forget any of it."
  "That would be wonderful," I told her. "Get me a copy of it, then I'll have all the details for the diary."
  I could see she was still troubled by the memories, and I waited for her to say something else.  Finally….
  "That one picture in there. It's the one where that thing threw Cody up against the wall."
  "Let's go look at them."
  We went into my office and started going through the pictures. I'd always been amazed that a couple people in this group had remembered to use their cameras that night. I don't know as I would have. But they did, although it sure wasn't Cody. He was the subject of several of those photos.
  Tara pointed to one of them. "That one. It had him pinned to the wall."
  There's a picture of Cody with a horrible twist of pain on his face. He's across the floor of this dilapidated old house, arms spread on the wall. No one is around him.
  "His feet are still on the ground in this one," I mentioned.
  "Yeah, but it lifted him up."
  We leafed through the photos, but in the one we wanted, Tara's mother, Sammi, blocked most of the view of Cody. Still, we could see his left foot was off the floor.
  "He was screaming and screaming," Tara said. "Mom and I kept trying to get to him, but every time we'd take a step, the floor would collapse under our feet."
  "You were all foolish to go there against Aunt Belle's orders," I reminded her.
  "I know. On the way over there, I was crying and telling Mom we shouldn't do this. That she should turn around and go back. But she wouldn't."
  "Bet she wishes she had."
  "Maybe," she agreed. "She's never really said. And you know something else that was crazy?"
  "What?"
  "After we'd called you that night, after it was all over, Ocie called from Ohio."
  "She did? I don't remember hearing that."
  "Yeah, the phone rang, and Mom said, 'It's Ocie.' Wonder what she wants?'"
  Ocie is Shari's daughter, and if anyone else in the family has a measure of psychic ability close to Cody's, it's his cousin Ocie.
  "What did she say?" I asked.
  "The first thing she said was, 'What happened to Cody? Something happened to Cody, didn't it?'"
  As you can tell, there's a lot more to this tale. However, it was quite the slap to me for this to happen right when I was working on this story. Fascinating, as my work in the paranormal world continues to be. Was my Muse there with me yesterday, pushing mine and Tara's thoughts and actions toward this story? It was an extremely strong energy, one which both Tara and I felt distinctly. There was no mistake — something or someone was there with us.
  One of the things I'm going to be doing in 2013 is posting some photos along with my stories. The photos will be pertinent to the investigations we do, and will either be in this blog or the new one we intend to start for our group, Supernatural Researchers of Texas (SRT). We hope to have some videos, also. Again, we'll do this as time away from our "living" responsibilities permits. In the meantime, this is a photo of the interior of that hell house:

 

  So I'm working on another set of diaries, and still pondering which other book to schedule. Given my penchant for discipline, I know I need to finish Silent Prey next. It's a story that fascinates me, and also my Muse, since he's the one who gave it to me in the first place. However, I'll continue to work on the next set of diaries in between the fiction novel, carving out time from my "life" responsibilities.
  Enjoy 2013 everyone!
  Boo!
  T. M.