Nerves, Horror, and Revealing Secrets

I am trying to calm my nerves at the moment. I am extremely arachnophobic, going back to an infected spider bite when I was a child. A giant, jumping spider just hopped onto my chest, then arm, then off into the shadowy recesses behind my chair. I screamed like a little kid, and ran out of the room.

Brian is hunting for it now, and I am sitting in my office still shaking.  I know, I am a coward, right?

Irrational Fear

I hate that irrational fear can grip my very being and shake me to my very core. It is embarrassing, and beyond the limits of how someone my age should react.

Fear is a powerful motivator. It unfortunately drives politics, and fascinates me.  Sex and fear are two of the most irrational factors that tend to motivate people.  They are hard to control because they are not rational.  Reason is little to no help, only a healthy dose of willpower has a chance to rein in these powers.

This is something special to be thinking about today on the anniversary of 9/11.

Remembering that evil day

I remember how I felt that day.  I sat safely on my couch in Oakland, Ca, rocking back and forth watching the smoke billow out of the tower.  I felt like a sword was swinging at the Gordian knot that held our nation together.

I remember sitting on the cold concrete outside my appartment, desparately trying to keep my candle lit for the memorial.  I sat in my appartment listening to the Kiss' song, "We are One" on repeat.

I hoped this moment of unity would pull the nation together.  Entropy is a powerful thing, and eventually it all fell apart.

Fear and Horror

I think that is why I occasionally dip my toes into horror writing. I have written a lot of disaster fiction since then.  If you look at them carefully, then you will notice that most of them are about everything falling apart.

I suppose it is a way for me to explore those deep resources of horror and terror that reside just out of view.  My own unresolved issues, and those I see in others.  Shine Like Thunder is really close to me on these issues.

In some ways, I might want to be careful with the horror tales I share. It is possible I am sharing things that are too personal.

Can a writer be to personal?

I am not talking about sharing private information.  At its best, writing is about sharing aspects of our psyche personified.  I have scrapped several stories because I felt they were too close to home to share.  Maybe that was a mistake.

Maybe I should open up, and just let these stories out.

Peace upon them

I know this has been one of my most rambling posts, but somehow, I think it works this year.

Peace be upon the blessed dead of 9/11, and the families whose wounds will never heal.


The Spider turned out to be a grasshopper.  My bad.