"Woman by the Window" -- A True Ghost Story

Just in time for Samhain, a true story about my two experiences with ghosts. Working on Rusted Heroes, a mix of fantasy, western, and horror and involves a flurry of undead things and spirits and spooky whatnots, got me wanting to write about more spooky whatnots. And I figured, hey, I've seen some ghosts. It's almost Samhain, and I enjoy repeating myself, so yeah, anyway, I've only shared these stories with friends in the late hours when ghost stories -- for some reason -- always tend to be swapped. I don't know why that is, or why ghost stories or stories about bear encounters tend to freeze a conversation onto that one topic for the next eight hours, but oftentimes, funnily enough, unlike almost every other topic, everyone's got a ghost story. Still, I really enjoy how you can have an exchange with somebody about everyday crap and only half-listen while they talk and they only half-listen to you (don't be ashamed, we all do it), but when it comes to ghosts -- man alive do get someone's undivided attention. Maybe for you single people out there, that'd be a good first date thing. "Hey, beautiful. Tell me, do ever see any--" pause to buff nails on lapel "--dead people?"

Maybe not. I suppose it's better than asking, "Would you like to see some dead people?" and then backpedaling with, "No, no, ha-ha, I meant ghosts. Not like corpses. I meant we should go ghost hunting or something. See if we got any of that ESP thing, you and me. I don't have any corpses in my basement. Or attic. Or freezer. Or anywhere. I mean, my house is totally corpse-free. Where're you going?"

So, forward, these are true stories. Seriously. If I was making it up, I'd gladly say so; it's what I do, after all. After the jump, prepare yourself . . . for the "Woman by the Window"!


"Into Dusk"

Hey, all. So this is Into Dusk, a short film I co-wrote. I promised I'd share it soon, and that time is now.

Into Dusk - Short Film from Jason Ho on Vimeo.

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Fic Tip: Writers' Worth

Let's say you're a writer. Now let's say you're a human being--that, on occasion--likes to gain nourishment so that you can prevent becoming a corpse. Okay, great! How does one do that? Well, until the world shifts to an economy based entirely on good looks and charm (or the human race begins taking nourishment from the sun's bountiful rays), you're going to need money. Moola. Greenbacks. Dead Presidents. Clams. Bones. Okay, you say, I'm a writer. I have a skill. I may've gone to school for it, or I just have a natural gift. It may not be something you can touch or feel or wrap up in a colorful vacuum-sealed packaging, but it is a product. You have a product, that's entirely yours and nobody else's. All right, so let's take that product and go out into the big, bad world and see what we can do with it.

Thing is, if you go onto any sort of site like Craigslist, you will see tons of jobs for writers. Sometimes in abundance if you live near a large metropolitan area. There's translations jobs, tele-commute journalism gigs, screenplay writing, articles, etc. Problem being that so many of them don't pay. Anything.

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