HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Know what I absolutely love? The days when we have to think–wow, there’s so much we simply don’t know.
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And more about the absolutely wonderfully talented Meredith Lyons below. And about her brand new book GHOST TAMER.
But first…yeah, what can I say. There's so much we simply don’t know. This is such a heartbreakingly haunting story.
Not All Ghosts Are Bad
I can’t point to an exact age, but I know I was young. I remember how my bedroom was arranged—and I remember exactly how old I was when I decided to take charge of my own feng shui and shove the furniture into a new position—so I’m going to guess between ten and twelve.
Often enough that it was unremarkable, I woke up during the night to find a girl pacing near the foot of my bed. Talking. She was always talking. As if I was waking up halfway through her monologue. In full flow, as if she was trying to work out a problem or vent about something irritating. If I ever tried to comment on anything she said, if I tried to enter the conversation at all, she stopped. She stopped walking, stopped talking, looked directly at me, and vanished.
I didn’t ever think much of it. I was tired, I went back to sleep, and forgot about it in the morning. I never remembered these visits, and to this day I can remember nothing that she said.
Except the last thing.
One night I opened my eyes to find she wasn’t talking. She wasn’t walking. And what’s more, she wasn’t by the foot of my bed. She was standing right beside my pillow, gazing down at me with a huge smile on her face. As if something marvelous had happened to her and she was bursting to share the news.
I didn’t feel afraid.
As soon as I met her eyes she said, “Goodbye!” And slowly faded away.
“Where ya going?” I asked. But she was gone.
The next morning, for the first time, I remembered her. I remembered all the other times, too. But I never saw her again.
At first, I tried to tell people about her, but no one believed me. Adults said I was dreaming. Kids were either skeptical or tried to fabricate their own ghost stories to top mine. Eventually, I just kept it to myself.
One night in my twenties, drunk after a night out in Chicago, I found myself beside my friend Gillian while the rest of our group walked on ahead. I’m not sure why, but I told her the story.
“Did she look like you?” she asked in her Dublin accent.
“Yeah, I guess she kind of did.” I was ready for her to tell me I was dreaming.
“Did your mum have a miscarriage before you?”
I was surprised. How would she have guessed that? “She did.”
“It was your sister checking up on you.”
I can’t describe the feeling that went through me then, but it was a rightness. A joy. Not only had my story not been dismissed as the diaphanous dreams of a sleepy child, but a new possibility had been introduced.
I still kept this story mostly to myself. It was rare that anyone connected to it in that way and it was a special memory to me. A nice thought that I didn’t care to tarnish with too much outside scoffing.
Years later, I decided to write about a nightmare that I’d had where I was riding the el train and it flew off the rails. “This will be a nice, normal story with normal people,” I thought to myself, having done a lot of writing about aliens and unicorns. But as I was writing it, I thought, “What about a ghost or two?”
And not too far into the writing of it, I remembered my childhood ghost and decided that not all of the ghosts had to be bad.
Maybe some are indifferent. Maybe others actually care about us and want to make sure we’re doing well. Maybe some even protect us from the bad ones.
This story I didn’t hide away. I didn’t keep it quiet or private and it’s turned into a decent book. As I’ve rolled through the different stages of bringing it to life, I’ve thought more about my little ghost visitor than ever before. I hope she’s doing well wherever she ended up. I hope it was as fantastic as she seemed to think it would be. And I thank her for the inspiration.
HANK: I’m so touched that this gives you peace, Meredith. And may it do the same for all of us.
You all, Meredith is an absolute powerhouse, lookit that bio! And her book is terrific–I loved it.
In answer to the question posed by the title, though–I’m not sure I ever thought all ghosts were bad. How about you, Reds and Readers?
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Death is one thing, it's what you do afterward that matters.
Aspiring comedian Raely is the sole survivor of a disastrous train wreck. While faced with the intense grief of losing her best friend, she realizes that someone is following her—and has been following her all her life. Trouble is, no one else can see him. For a ghostly tag-along, Casper’s not so bad. He might even be the partner Raely needs to fight the evil spirit hell-bent on destroying her.
Raely and her friend must learn why this demonic spirit is haunting Raely and how she can stop him before he destroys her life—and her soul. Which, much to her chagrin, means she needs the help of a psychic (although she’s sure they are all charlatans) and must rid herself of the pesky ghost hunter who’s interested in exploiting her new abilities.
Meredith Lyons grew up in New Orleans, collecting two degrees from Louisiana State University before running away to Chicago to be an actor. In between plays, she got her black belt and made martial arts and yoga her full-time day job. She fought in the Chicago Golden Gloves, ran the Chicago Marathon, and competed for team U.S.A. in the savate world championships in Paris. In spite of doing each of these things twice, she couldn’t stay warm and relocated to Nashville. She owns several swords, but lives a non-violent life, saving all swashbuckling for the page, knitting scarves, gardening, visiting coffee shops, and cuddling with her husband and two panther-sized cats. She’s a member of International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime. Ghost Tamer is her first novel.
