Creepy Words

I stumbled upon the most wonderful old word today -- "death-damp".

Apparently it's the cold, clammy sweat which breaks out just before death.

And I love this word.

As a writer, I suppose, really, I love all words. But, per my critique partner, there are certain words I love too much, and said words get excised frequently. But they aren't words like this one. They're just ordinary words. Death-damp, now that's a word.

I confess, I love words like this. Creepy, odd, weird words. That mean creepy, odd, weird things. All alone, they conjure up ideas and images that make me want to race to the computer or grab paper and pen in order to feverishly write them down.

I want to work death-damp into everything now. Of course, I write contemporary horror and dark urban fantasy. And death-damp is circa 1895. So it doesn't really fit with my métier. (Please take a moment to appreciate the accent over the 'e'. That took me a while to get in here and my spouse seems underwhelmed by the result. Or perhaps by the effort it took. Sorry, continue.) But still, it's an amazing word, and surely worth the time it'll take to figure out how to work it in to a contemporary novel.

Then again, vampires and other undeads live a long time. I'll just have one of them use it. Over and over and over again. Problem solved.

Back to tumbling "death-damp" over and over in my mind. I love that word!

Yours,
J.G. Chase

Babysitting the Hellhound

I'm not getting a lot of writing done right now.

Not because I don't have plenty of ideas or a book I'm in the middle of or anything like that.

No, I'm not getting a lot of writing done because I'm not getting a lot of sleep. Because we're babysitting a Hellhound...perhaps the Hellhound.

My inlaws needed to drop Hellie off. No problem. But they spent the night and, since they're older and unfamiliar with our house, we kept Hellie in the room with us so neither one of them would trip over him in the night.

This distressed Hellie. He spent all of that night whining because he couldn't be with them. I spent all night quietly telling him to shup up, to come back by the bed, to lie down, and to die. He did none of them. I got no sleep and my brain refused to function the next day.

Fine. One night, right? Hellie would be normal once the inlaws were off and away. I'd take a nap somewhere and all would be well.

Wrong.

Hellie's into pining, apparently. In between picking on our dogs and terrorizing our cats, he wanders the house -- whining. Napping is out. Phone calls are out. Teeth grinding is in. Dog walks are very in -- Hellie likes to take a walk as often as possible. It's the only time he's not whining. So I'm taking him every hour, because that's about the point where I hit the whining limit and I'm ready to kill him and every other living thing in the house.

However, I'm not advanced enough to be able to write when I have nothing but fuzz in my brain. Nor when my eyes can rarely and barely open and, when they do, all is fuzzy. Neither when I'm walking a pack of dogs. I guess I'm just not that good.

I'll be in shape, of course, so there's a positive. Although, I'm not writing a fitness book, so it's no help there. But I've heard that being fit helps an author write a better book.

If this is the key, my next one's going to be stellar -- it's going to be about how a man is driven slowly insane by a hound from Hell. I'm sure it'll be a huge success.

Yours,
J.G. Chase

Consider the Blog...

What is a blog? A way to waste time in idle chat? An obligation and necessity? Or is it an opportunity to share what you love with like-minded individuals?

I'm trying to avoid the first option, feeling the pressure of the second, but am hoping for the third.

I'm an author of urban fantasy and other aspects of the fantastic. Mostly dark. So far, only dark, but with glimmers of light. As such, I live in my own mind and my own worlds quite a lot of the time. But those worlds are being created for others to visit and, perhaps, live in as well. After all, I have imagination to spare -- why not share it with others?

Why start this blog on a holiday week? Why not? Imagination and inspiration wait for no man, and choose when, where and who they strike. My hope is that they continue to hit me wherever and whenever they want.

So, happy holidays, enjoy the latter part of Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. And here's to those of us who will both enjoy the festivities and see a creature of darkness lurking under the tree or hiding behind the menorah. And to those who know their delivery man is truly a moonlighting werewolf, and that the woman who works the late shift at the fast food restaurant is really a vampire down on her luck. It is for all of you that I write...so we know we're not alone.

Yours,

J.G. Chase