My Blog

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I read a great book recently – The Upstairs Room, by Kate Murray-Browne. It was one of those slow-burning, psychological novels that I completely adore, and its main feature was one particularly scary room. 

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I don’t know about you, but I find there’s something especially eerie about an urban legend. It’s that suggestion that it might be true – after all, these stories often originate from a ‘friend of a friend’, which immediately makes them more frighteningly believable. 

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I used to have a pathological fear of short stories. Not reading them, of course. I’ve always found reading short stories to be a joy, particularly when they’re written well.

I’m talking about writing them. Whether a 500 or 5,000-word limit, the prospect of sitting down and crafting something so precise, with not a word out of place, used to panic me on all sorts of levels. 

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A few months ago, a truly magnificent (not to mention funny) story hit the headlines of the Plymouth Herald. According to the report, a group of local ghost hunters had managed to catch the first ever ‘elephant ghost’ on camera. 

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Having inspiration for a story is a wonderful thing. It’s a great feeling - that spark of an idea igniting your creativity, sending you racing for the notepad before it flickers out again.