Who You Gonna Call?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Yesterday ,we thought we posed the question of questions. Steve Ulfelder said the world was divided into two camps; the dog people and the cat people. And we thought, well, that's true. Which side are you on?

But today our dear Laura Benedict (a long time friend of Reds and a fabulous writer and a constant delight) has a--possibly--more difficult question.  When she talks about cat people--she may mean CAT PEOPLE.

So,  Reds, read Laura's position on this--and the decide: which side are you on? And be very very careful how you choose. And a copy of Laura's wonderful new BLISS HOUSE to onw lucky commenter!

DON'T GO INTO THE BASEMENT

by Laura Benedict

Here’s a secret about me: I write supernatural fiction, but I’m no longer a frequent watcher of horror films. Sure, I occasionally watch them (and I adore scary books), but I don’t find films so scary anymore. I fear it’s one of the vagaries of being in the business—and rare is the ghost story that’s told on film in a new, exciting way.

But you know what does scare me, disturbing me so much that I can’t watch anytime after dark? Any tv docudrama about ghosts or people being haunted: Paranormal Witness, When Ghosts Attack, A Haunting. Unlike Ghost Hunters (which I used to watch religiously, until Grant left—long story), these shows aren’t about proving or disproving the presence of ghosts. These shows dramatize the stories of people who have directly experienced being haunted. You’ll notice that I didn’t say “ostensibly” or “purportedly.” I totally (okay, mostly want to) believe these people.

And not only do I believe them, but I can’t stop watching!

One reason I believe: In fiction, hauntings hardly ever happen in ranch houses. Or trailers. But on these shows, hauntings happen in bars, restaurants, town halls, retirement homes. Who would think to make up a haunting in a ranch house or a house trailer? (Usually the ranch houses turn out to be haunted by a teenage suicide from down the street, or an insignificant historical figure named Pauline.)

Here’s how the shows work: They hire actors to do dramatizations of the stories, and the people originally involved are shot in a studio, talking about the events. Some stories are decades old, others only two or three years.

That’s the other reason I find these shows believable. I watch the victims’ faces: they are utterly and completely sincere. Sure, they’ve probably told their stories a thousand times so that even false details might become like real memories. But I find it hard to believe they’re faking a lingering fear. And many of these people are still very afraid.

Most of the stories go this way: Single mom finds the PERFECT run-down, historic house (complete with Silence of the Lambs basement) to rehab. She moves in with her young daughter and begins to tear down walls with sledgehammer. Daughter strikes up a friendship with invisible friend named “Cornelia.” Spends a lot of time whispering in her room with Cornelia. Rooms trash themselves when no one is home. Houseguests can’t sleep in the basement guestroom because of miasma of creepiness. Daughter starts drawing pictures of Cornelia—who happens to have long teeth and empty eye holes. The cat hisses at things that aren’t there.

Mom—who can’t afford to move out—calls in a medium. Or a priest. Or a friend who is “very spiritual.” The house gets blessed by someone reading random words from the Christian bible. The medium tells her a “very evil man” lived there. Mom does research and finds out the house used to be…a mental institution built on a Native American burial ground! (At which point I would sue my title company.)

Then end of the story usually goes one of three ways: 1) Mom never finishes the rehab, but the daughter moves in with a boyfriend just as soon as she’s old enough to have one. 2) Mom sells the house to people who never have a problem with ghosts.  3) Rarely, the blessing will work and all ends well and Mom opens a B&B.

I watch these shows with my grown daughter, whom I raised on frightening fare. One of our favorite games is to compare the actors to the original people. Sometimes the comparison isn’t flattering—either way. And it’s always fun to note when real spouses or significant others from the original events are significantly absent from the show. Boyfriends come and go, wives are divorced. We always wonder if they no longer believe in what happened, or they weren’t offered enough money, or the relationships ended badly. We also ask ourselves questions like, “Why didn’t they talk to the neighbors the first time the walls cried blood?”

Recently we got rid of satellite tv (too expensive, poor service), and I swear that these shows are the only thing I miss. Weather Channel? Internet. Local news? HD antenna (as long as it isn’t raining or there are no sunspots or whatever). Game of Thrones? I refused to pay for premium channels, anyway. Netflix carries a season or two of Paranormal Witness, and I can pay eleven or twelve bucks to Hulu to get a season of A Haunting. In fact, I could buy every single episode for less than a month’s satellite bill.

But there was nothing like having my girl come home for the weekend and settling onto the couch with her to watch four DVR’d episodes in a row of people running screaming through their half-demolished houses or perfect antique-stuffed living rooms yelling, “Mom! Mom! There’s something in the basement!” (We do not, by the way, have any sort of basement at our house. On purpose.)

Do I sound crazy to you? Perhaps I’m just one of those suckers who was born  in one particular, supernatural-leaning minute. It’s just too fun not to believe, at least a little.

What about you? Do you have a ghost story that we should all believe?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I *will* go down into the basement. But I DO consider it. And I do think there is more on heaven and earth than we have dreamed of in our philosophy.  I'd say: possible.

How about you? And a copy of the fabulous BLISS HOUSE to one lucky commenter...

Laura Benedict’s latest dark suspense novel is BLISS HOUSE (Pegasus Crime), praised as “Eerie, seductive, and suspenseful,” by Edgar award-winning author, Meg Gardiner. Laura is also the author of DEVIL’S OVEN, a modern Frankenstein tale, and CALLING MR. LONELY HEARTS and ISABELLA MOON, both originally published by Ballantine Books. Her work has appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, PANK, and numerous anthologies like Thrillers: 100 Must-Reads (Oceanview), and Slices of Flesh (Dark Moon Books).

A Cincinnati, Ohio native, Laura grew up in Louisville, Kentucky, and claims both as hometowns. She currently lives with her family in the southern wilds of a Midwestern state, surrounded by bobcats, coyotes, and other less picturesque predators.

Tomorrow on Jungle Red: What makes good YA?

And the winner of TRUTH BE TOLD is Bev Fontaine

The winner of TERMINAL CITY is Plum Gaga

The winner of SMALL PLATES is Brenda Buchanan

The winner of WOLVERINE BROTHERS is Lynn in Texas

Contact Hank via her website to claim your prize!

Who You Gonna Call? Shelly and Andrew!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Happy Halloween! (And pass the Twizzlers.) Not to clog this with dreaded backstory, but when I attended the Midwest Writers Workshop (highly recommended!) they assigned a person to pick me up at the airport. She was lovely, and we chatted on the way to the event.

"So what do you do in real life," I asked, being curious and friendly.

"My husband and I are ghost-hunters," she said.

Now I ask you, Reds, when was the last time you heard that? 

So I got the whole scoop, of course but you all were haunting me. I knew it was a perfect blog for the Reds. 

So. No more backstory. 

Who You Gonna Call? 

by Shelly and Andrew Gage

There are a lot of ghost-hunting “reality” shows on TV these days.  Most of them do a pretty good job of showing investigations – the wandering in the dark, the use of various gadgets, and different ways of conducting EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) sessions.

  What they don’t show you, aside from leaving out the hours and hours spent reviewing footage and audio recordings in order to come up with the minute or less of evidence for the “reveal,” is how paranormal investigators work with their clients.  One of the most challenging parts of paranormal investigating is not dealing with the dead, but working with the living.

The first step in any investigation is getting familiar with the client.  We need to build trust with the client while at the same time gathering enough information to make a judgment call as to how reliable a witness he or she is.  Ideally, we’ll feel that the client is experiencing something, and the client will trust us enough to feel comfortable leaving us in his home, unsupervised, for several hours late at night.  (It’s not impossible to investigate with the client present, but it can be a hindrance particularly if the client is not familiar with investigative methods.)

A key thing to figure out is what the client wants.  What’s her motivation for calling us in?  What is he hoping we’ll find?  Some clients want confirmation that their house is haunted; others would much prefer that it wasn’t.  Our job as investigators is not only to capture evidence but also to manage expectations.  We aren’t going to manipulate our findings but our presentation of them will vary based upon what the client is looking for.  

If she’s really hoping that the activity she’s experiencing is grandma’s spirit lingering but all we find is evidence of bad wiring, we need to present that in a way that doesn’t belittle her feelings.  If he’s hoping we can prove that there are no ghosts and what we find can’t be debunked, then we need to find a way to assure him that paranormal presences aren’t automatically a threat. 

Clients call us in for many reasons.  In one of our first investigations of a private residence, we learned that our client was hoping we’d find proof that his mother’s home was haunted by the spirit of his grandfather.  While we did capture some evidence of a haunting, we weren’t able to say definitively that the presence was his grandfather.  Because we handled the situation with sensitivity, we were able to establish a good relationship with that client.  He’s joined us for other investigations, and referred people to us for help.

In another investigation, we discovered in the midst of reporting that we’d found nothing paranormal that our client was having trouble with her live-in boyfriend.  She’d been hoping we’d find a presence in her house which might be responsible for the changes she was seeing in him.  It was a tricky situation to handle - we’re paranormal investigators, not relationship counselors.  To our relief, our client was satisfied with our report, and she was so pleased that she referred her sister to us.

In addition to investigating private residences at the request of home-owners, we also investigate public sites.  In these cases, our concern is assuring the clients that they will control access to the results. 

Some sites would rather not announce that they’re haunted.  Others embrace it and are pleased to share whatever evidence we bring them.  We’ve investigated both.  A local bar was glad to have us in to investigate, but we had to promise not to share our results or even reveal we’d investigated there.  We have been scrupulously careful to not reveal anything about our investigation. 

On the other hand, the civic theater was thrilled to have us in to investigate and pleased to have us share our results on our website.  Because we’ve honored our agreements with both clients, we are welcome to return to investigate again and we are able to use the theater as a reference when talking with other places about investigating. 

If we do our jobs correctly, we will leave our clients feeling satisfied, regardless of what evidence we do or do not capture.  The client should feel that we’ve done a thorough job, that we’ve listened and considered what he’s reported to us, and that we’ve addressed any concerns she might have.

 In the end the ghosts might prove unreliable, but we never should.



HANK: Amazing, huh? Thank you for such a unique insight!  Okay, I have a LOT of questions. Like--tell us more about these photos! But you guys go first.

Creepiest Blog EVER

 
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Okay, Hallie, it's a COINCIDENCE. Sure, fine, think of it that way. But remember how Monday's post was kind of about the controversy over whether there was ESP? Whether there were ever times our minds connected with somene else's. Right?

Well, first, here's some inside scoop--these posts are often scheduled before the actual day they're up. Imagine that! We're sometimes organized. So. Point is, Julie Hyzy sent me her post a couple of weeks ago.

But because I'm not THAT organized, and because obviously if the amazing and fabulous and successful and beloved Julie Hyzy sends me a post, it's going to be great, I didn't even read it until yesterday.

And--ta dah: look what it's about. HAH.




THE CONNECTION WITH ROBERT?
                by Julie Hyzy

Thank you so much, Hank, for inviting me here to guest blog today!


This past December, my husband and I spent a couple days in Key West (Yep, the gorgeous setting for Lucy Burdette’s Key West Food Critic Mysteries!).

One of the highlights of the trip was the Ghosts and Gravestones Frightseeing Tour where, after dark, we visited the Fort East Martello Museum and Gardens. A caretaker carrying an old fashioned oil lamp appeared as we disembarked from our trolley. He opened tall, creaky iron gates and invited us into the museum’s dark courtyard. “I’m Grimsby,” he said and he led us in to meet…Robert the Doll.

Robert was given to young Robert Eugene Otto in 1906 by his family’s Bahamian servant—a woman schooled in voodoo and black magic. The little boy loved his doll so much (it’s about the size of a four-year-old) that he gave it his own name, Robert, and from then on insisted on being called Gene. Robert the doll has his own website, here. Take a look.

Okay, so, back to the museum.

It was dark, quiet. Our voices echoed and our steps clattered in the cavernous museum.

Robert waited for us inside a Plexiglas case, perched on a small chair. He has coffee bean eyes, and wears a jaunty little sailor suit. Grimsby explained that if we wanted a picture, there were rules: We needed to greet Robert by name, introduce ourselves, and then ask permission to snap a photo. He warned us that if we refused to comply, Robert would become unhappy. He would curse us. Bad things would begin to happen. “He’s done it before.”

Grimsby pointed to a wall of letters from former visitors who’d ignored the advice and were now begging the doll to lift the curse—“He’ll do it again.”

Grimsby’s eyes glittered. “Who’s up first?”

I was.

I stood in front of Robert and regarded him for a long moment. 


“Hello, Robert,” I said, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Julie.” 









I giggled a bit at the absurdity of it all. And at that moment, I felt a zing of connection. A weird one. As though Robert… liked me. As though he was lonely and appreciated the visit. But because there was a line of eager photographers behind me, I continued quickly, “Will it be all right if I take your picture? I promise, just one.”

Nothing fell from the ceiling, so I assumed it was okay. I snapped my shot.

There was something compelling about this doll, yet I’d be lying if I said he didn’t creep me out a little bit. I felt as though he was trying to communicate. And yes, I know how silly that sounds.

As we bid the lonely doll a fond adieu, I thought about how much fun it would be to include him in a future book. Not at the White House of course, but if, say, Grace Wheaton (Manor House Mysteries) happened to oversee a supernatural or paranormal convention at Marshfield, Robert could be a fun part of that story. Perfect, I thought. I have my next plot line.

Before I left, I took one last look at Robert. He seemed sorrowful and melancholy in his Plexiglas home. I wondered: Will he be upset with me if I include him in a book? No, I thought, it will be an adventure. I’m convinced he’ll be thrilled.

As I got back outside and took a deep breath of night air, it occurred to me to wonder why I was thinking about him this way at all.

I’m a skeptic. Always have been, always will be. But, Robert… He and I connected. Can’t explain it. Don’t think I want to try.

Have you ever felt a connection like this? Or am I just nuts?

HANK:  I rest my case. (And you know, this was creepy when I first read it. Now it's creepier. And I hope Rovert thinks it's okay that he's on the blog. Did you guys see the Twilight Zone with the fortune-telling machine in the diner?)


Anyway--Let's hear your creepy stories, Reds! And I'll give Julie's brand new White House Chef mystery FONDUING FATHERS to two lucky commenters!