About three years ago, I started writing a novel that I laughingly referred to as my ‘unpublishable book’. It was wildly strange, with an ambiguous, untidy ending, and it broke a lot of rules.
Last week was a tough one for me. The enormity of the coronavirus situation finally sank in, not to mention the long-term implications of home-schooling, and working full-time, and doing all the other usual tasks around the house.
A while back, my son sneezed. I replied with a predictable ‘bless you’, and he said ‘thanks’ in return.
‘Oh no,’ I replied quickly. ‘You mustn’t thank me, not for a sneeze.”
I’d said it without even thinking; and was unprepared when he asked for a reason why.
Often, ghost stories centre around humans. Whether they’re grey-dressed ladies, drifting mournfully down ancient hallways, or black-eyed children peering round darkened corners, our spooky stories are frequently human-centric.