Devil in Disguise

 

Hello, Friends! Flossie Benton Rogers here. Are you old enough to remember the vintage Halloween costumes for kids from the 1950s and 60s? They came in a flimsy box and usually contained a mask slipped over the back of the head by a thin rubber string, an outfit of some sort, and assorted props. The latter might include a broom, a pair of “glass” shoes, or a devil’s trident. A kid’s Mom would sometimes add embellishing touches, such as jewelry or a chiffon scarf. Which costumes did you pick?

My favorites were the happy, attractive ones, such as the benevolent, blonde-haired queen and the colorful gypsy. Am I dreaming or did the gypsy come with a tambourine? I was Cinderella one year, and the “glass” slippers had an elastic strap designed to keep them on your feet. The result was not terribly sturdy. The shoes pretty much flopped all over the place. They were pretty, though!

One year I remember having limited choices due to the items in our neighborhood store being quickly depleted, and I ended up with the devil costume. That red mask was harsh! It might have been easier to do what some kids did— wear a ghost costume by cutting two eyeholes in a sheet.

Whatever we did—hayrides, trick or treating, scoring homemade popcorn balls and caramel apples—the kids went out in groups, the parents were involved, no one got hurt, and we always had fun. The masks and costumes were ways of donning an alternate persona for one night a year and acting out our fairy tales or pretending to scare our friends.

Masks and costumes can also be ways of donning an alternate persona as an ongoing pretense or habitual act of deception. Most often the mask is one where a person seems to be supportive, but underneath has hidden motives or an ax to grind. The costuming or trappings around the person help to enhance the deception and build a false sense of security in the people around the play-actor. Personality disguises and false personas occur in several books in the Wytchfae fantasy romance series.

Runes, for example, has a character that lives and breathes in her false persona for years on end. Hopefully the unveiling is a surprise to readers. In Mind Your Goddess a character pretends to seek help from the compassionate goddess Epona, but turns out to want only revenge.

Although Halloween can no longer be the carefree experience it was in the 1950s and 60s, I hope you and your family are able to enjoy your time together. Dress up. Play games. Maybe make some popcorn balls! Wishing you a Merry Halloween from the Pen Dames!

Ghostober-What's in Your Family Albums

 

Halloween is all about dressing up as ghosts and goblins, favorite movie stars, sci-fi characters, and other fun costumes. For children it’s going from door-to-door shouting “Trick or Treat,” and then loading their bags with candy from generous homeowners. But this blog isn’t about creative costumes or sweet treats. It’s about ghosts—a different kind of ghosts.

Ever thought you were alone, but the chill down your spine begged otherwise? Ever told yourself the noises in your house at night are just the walls “settling”?

 

Do I have your attention?

Here’s a question for you dear readers. Do you believe in ghosts? Once upon a time ghosts were considered scary, supernatural specters. You know something that goes bump in the night.

If you don’t believe in ghosts you’re not alone. These days, most people do not believe such spirits exist. Two hundred years ago, or perhaps longer, when a person passed away the only images left of the deceased were mostly in the memories of those who knew them. Only a few rich and famous people could afford to have their portraits painted in those days, so most people’s features and images vanished without a trace once the generations who remembered them died, too.

Okay, so whether you believe in ghosts or not, flip through an old family photo album and reckon with the images staring back at you. They are not frightening images. Most likely that old photo album is filled with pictures of people long gone, possibly greatly missed, and greatly loved.

Today, photographs capture snapshot images of people gathered at play, acting silly or completely unaware they are being captured in various stages of life; and when we flip through the photo albums we are forever reliving certain moments of life-time like some spirit in an old ghost story. You are looking at relatives that many living family members never met. Yet, images of these faces remain affixed in the album, their names often written in fading pencil on the back of the picture. And, sadly, in some instances, no names were written to identify these people, leaving them mere ghostly reminders of forever lost descendants.

When I look through old photo albums of ancestors that lived long before I was even thought of its like reaching into the past, and maybe that’s why old photos sometimes inspire a certain haunting feeling whenever we touch them. After all, these family members are strangers, beings we have only heard snippets of stories from great grandparents or aunts and uncles who maybe know nothing of these folks at all, but here is their image staring back at you from an old black and white or sepia toned photo in a tattered family album.

Beyond old photographs, we’ve advanced to motion pictures where movie stars like Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, or Laurel and Hardy, from the early time of silent film remain alive in old motion pictures though they have been deceased for decades.

As we advance forward in time and with the push of a button the television flickers on and with the click of a remote, dead people such as Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Doris Day, Maureen O’Hara, and a host of others, move and speak across the screen. Still we can see these people repeat their actions from decades ago and possibly on into the future.

Perhaps, people no longer talk about ghosts because in many ways we are surrounded by them. Perhaps, people no long fear ghosts because we have grown accustomed to them.

In my humble opinion, ghosts are things of memory. Humanity has always had memories, dreams and nightmares. Ghostly memories have long haunted and visited people in their sleep and in their thoughts.

Whether you believe in ghosts or not, belief in ghosts and unearthly spirits seem to be as old as humans, just like our uncomfortable relationship with our own mortality. Incidentally, while paranormal experiences may provoke fright or adrenaline rushes, they can also provide comfort as proof for life after death. Remember this the next time you open old family photo albums.

So, dear readers, do you believe in ghosts? Well, do you?

As always, take care, stay safe, and Happy Halloween!

Cloud Woman's Spirit is a Historical western romance with a paranormal twist.

"Her spirit cries out for revenge."

After Tessa Cloud Woman is murdered she becomes a shape-shifting ghost who seeks revenge on the men who killed her and her unborn child. Find out how her spirit helps lead her husband, Deputy US Marshall Jim Sawyer, bring her killers to justice without ever firing a shot. 

Availabe in print and Ebook:   https://amzn.to/2EJSYb8

 

 

Spirits and Contacting the Other Side

 

Have you ever seen a ghost? This question came up in one of my Facebook groups and hundreds of people responded. I never encountered any spirits. But I have had some strange experiences.

An odd thing happened two or three years after a good friend died. One night I dreamed I was speaking to him on the phone. The connection was not good, and it was hard to hear him, but one thing came across loud and clear. He said, “Tell my mom I’m doing well, and everything is fine here.” This dream was so powerful, I was sure it was real. I don’t have any proof, but I know this message consoled his mother and I believe, somehow, he contacted me so he could ease her grief. Why not call her directly? I don't know. Maybe he could only get through to me. 

My grandmother died more than 30 years ago. We were close and I didn't want her to leave. However, she lived a long life, and she was ready to reunite with my grandfather. Recently, I had a vivid dream about her. We talked and she said she wanted me to have something. When I woke up, I didn’t know what it was and didn’t care. The important thing was the feeling that she had been right there with me. I told my husband about it, then let it go. It was comforting, but also sad because it was only a dream. Later that afternoon, a package arrived for me. When I opened it, I found my great aunt had sent me a dresser scarf embroidered by my grandmother. She hadn’t told me she was sending it, just popped it in the mail. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I truly believe I spoke with my grandmother that night.

In Witch Trial Legacy, the heroine, Sybilla Sanborn, works with mediums in the Spiritualist town of Cassadaga, Florida to find a way to break a curse which she inherited.

 Here’s an excerpt inspired by the dreams about my friend and my grandmother. Sybilla meets with a medium who sees the spirit of Sybilla’s mother and gives her a message:

 

She closed her eyes and her lips moved. When she opened her eyes again, she gazed into the corner of the room. “A presence is here, someone close to you. A spirit is forming now. She’s a lot like you in appearance. A relative, perhaps.”

“My mother?” Chills ran over Sybilla. I’d give anything to talk to her again.

“Yes, she’s nodding. She wants to tell you that she and your father are fine. They watch over you whenever they can, and they’re trying to help you find the solution to your problem. She says you’re right about inheriting powers from your ancestor Alse Young, and the curse from Matthias North’s line. Somehow, both came together in you, and you’re paying the price for the actions of those who came before you. Alse was no witch, but in her desperation and rage, she cursed Matthias and his progeny for all time. By doing so, she subverted and tainted her gifts. Then, her daughter Truth made things worse by taking revenge on him through his son. North was not pure evil, merely a greedy and arrogant man who accused Alse because of his bruised ego. He did a terrible thing to her, but his descendants certainly didn’t deserve to live with no one ever believing them. The curse drove countless innocents to suicide, drug addiction, and confinement to mental hospitals. The fact you were able to survive this long is a testament to your strength. Don’t give up.”

Tears formed in Sybilla’s eyes as she listened. She peered around the room, aching for a glimpse of her mother. “Mom, I miss you so much. I need you so much.”

Elana slumped in the chair. “She’s gone. The spirits use a great deal of energy trying to communicate, and the transmission is always short. What your mother sent was longer than most.”

“It’s not fair that I lost my parents so young. I want to see them. Why can’t I, when you can?” Sybilla grabbed a tissue and held it to her eyes while she sobbed.

Elana poured tea for herself and refilled Sybilla’s cup too. “Channeling is my special ability, just like yours are healing and premonitions, which I don’t possess. Everyone’s aptitudes are different. Some people aren’t sensitive to the spirit world, but they’re talented in other areas such as singing or art. One must work with what one has and try to cultivate those talents. That’s why you’re here with me, to make your gifts work for you instead of against you.”

“I’d give up all the visions for one moment with my parents. The precognitions don’t help anyone. They only cause me trouble.”

“Would you give up your healing abilities? You’ve helped many people with them, and you might not be able to pick and choose.”

Sybilla hesitated. “I don’t know. It might be worth it, if I could see my parents, witness for myself there really is something beyond this life.”

 “Are you sure you would believe if you saw them? How could you prove it wasn’t a dream or hallucination?”

“I couldn’t, and the thing that means the most to me would be gone. Not a good trade. Well, I don’t have the option anyway. Guess I should stop wishing for the impossible.”

“You have the message from your mother. You can keep faith she is watching over you, and all will be well in the end. Will you do that?”

Sybilla swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can try.”

The basis of Spiritualism is that people continue on after death and can communicate with the living to help and guide them. Cassadaga was founded by people who believed this and thought the location had properties which made it easier to connect with the other side. I’ve always been fascinated by the paranormal, and so I chose the unique town of Cassadaga as the setting for Witch Trial Legacy.

 Have you ever seen a ghost or had an experience that makes you believe it’s possible to make contact with people who have passed? Or do you believe, like Conn, the hero in Witch Trial Legacy, that it’s all wishful thinking or naïve people being taken advantage of by scam artists?

 Let me know in the comments. I would love to hear your thoughts!

 

5 Star Amazon Review:

Witch Trial Legacy (The Cassadaga Collection) by Katherine Smits is a wonderful read. This is book number one in this wonderful start to a brand new series that I am so hooked on and can not wait to read the rest. I highly recommend this story to everyone who loves reading fantasy.

Buy Witch Trial Legacy: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0977NF15J/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1

 

 

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Katherine Eddinger Smits is a direct descendant of Susannah Martin, who was tried and executed for witchcraft in Salem, Massachusetts in 1692. Katherine holds a master’s degree in social work.  For 20 years, she assisted veterans and their families until she retired to pursue her writing obsession.

 

Now she brings clinical training and experience to her stories of mermaids, mages, and magical creatures. Within the context of fantasy and romance, her novels explore real-life issues of self-acceptance, body image, relationship dynamics, fears, and phobias. Mystery, suspense, and a little sex add spice to her books.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Clare and Penny Dreadful: A Perfect Union of Poetry and Television

 

I love Halloween. Supernatural and horror shows have always been a favorite of mine. I’m a huge fan of the Penny Dreadful series. It’s a unique take on the old horror stories: Dorian Gray, Frankenstein, vampires, and so on. Mind you, it’s not for the faint-hearted. But it’s extremely well-written, and the acting and casting is amazing. Vanessa Ives, the main character, played by the talented Eva Green, has been fighting a battle with demonic forces since she was a young girl. She is devout, kind, tough, and struggles to keep the forces of evil at bay.

An odd thing happened today. Poetry has been calling to me lately, and while searching in my old college literature book for William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming,” I happened upon another poem, called “Written in Northampton Asylum,” by John Clare.  The name sounded familiar, then…I got the chills.

Penny Dreadful came to mind immediately. There is a touching scene in the series where Vanessa is serving food in a dank, dark place to the sick and poor in London. Frankenstein’s monster, played with heartbreaking perfection by Rory Kinnear, was abandoned by Frankenstein and left to survive however he could. He is huddled in a corner. Vanessa brings him soup, sits down beside him, and treats him like the human being he never feels he is. The monster introduces himself as John Clare. This scene involves them reciting together, in mutual misery and heavy hearts, John Clare’s Poem, “Written in Northampton Asylum.” It is both heartrending and poignant.

Here’s the poem:

“I am! Yet what I am who cares, or knows?

My friends forsake me like a memory lost.

I am the self-consumer of my woes;

They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,

Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.

And yet I am—I live—though I am toss’d

 

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,

Into the living sea of waking dream,

Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,

But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem

And all that’s dear. Even those I loved the best

Are strange--nay, they are stranger than me.

 

I long for scenes where man has never trod—

For scenes where woman never smiled or wept—

There to abide with my Creator, God,

And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,

Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,--

The grass below; above the vaulted sky.”

-----John Clare (1793-1864)

This poem reflects the despair and loneliness that Frankenstein’s monster feels, and also Vanessa Ives’ struggle to cast out the evil forces, end her torment, and be at one with her Creator.

 I am drawn to the human capacity to survive and find hope and joy even through horrific circumstances. The writing and acting of Penny Dreadful inspired me to create complex characters who fight to survive and search to find human warmth, love, and compassion.

I hope you enjoyed reading this poem.

My second book, Heartbeat of the Moon, is both a love story and a unique twist on a well-loved horror myth. It is out on audiobook now as well. Thanks for visiting.

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