Last When Words Collide, I got hit with the second half of a plot idea I’d been carrying around for years. I was writing it on the couch during most of Saturday. Even There was something about the Lovely, Dark and Deep words that brought me back to Northern Alberta in that crisp time before it snows. Before the Snow Flies (the dead walk) is available on line!
I love the story. The first half of the idea came from when I taught up north, I learned to cover any food, alcohol or nicotine with towels before going to bed. I can’t remember who told me that the dead were more likely to walk from between the ground freezing and the snow sticking. It’s one of those things that I’ve known for a long time but didn’t really get it until I was coming up from the downstairs of our duplex that I shared in Fort Chip. We’d gone downstairs during the day, but the sun had set and the sky was jet black.
We’d just had a party and there was food and drinks out everywhere. The main door hadn’t been closed and there was nothing between me and the night air but a screen door. The lights were on behind me so all I saw was my own reflection, but in that second where I locked eyes with myself that I wondered exactly who or what was standing on the other side of the glass, looking in on food and drink.
We shut the door and ran around covering all the fun stuff living humans use to celebrate, but still my co-worker’s aunt came over to beat all the corners and nooks with pots and pans.
The second half of the story came from all the conspiracy theorist theories I’d been reading. Not so much what conspiracy theorists LARP, but why one person can watch Loose Change and see the “theories” as ridiculous while another gets swept up into the insanity and what they believe becomes part of their identity. Add a little Wendigo legend for spice and boom, out came the story.