My name is H.A. Larson and I am a Woman of a Particular Age. I occasionally write ghostly and horror novellas, as well as some editorials for different publications, from my desk in the Midwest. I'm a hiker, adventurer, and traveler. I'm an ex-pat in-training that likes wine and Renaissance Faires. I'm a music fanatic and I much prefer a book over television.
Good morning! I hope you are well-fed and well-rested after the holiday festivities. I know I sure am. I really had the two most fabulous days, and I needed them (I'll talk more about that in another post).
Not long ago, I talked about how my creative pull has been going this year. Now that I've had more time to reflect on it, I know exactly what was going on. I talked about how I felt that I might have had too much creative pull or that I'd been distracted by other things too often. Neither one of those things are true. Not that I was lying, but I think I was unable to admit what was really going on because sometimes you fear the worst and don't want to voice it. I was afraid that my desire to create had died, and I wasn't sure if I would ever get it back. I guess it can be called Writer's Block, but it was more than that. I noticed this Spring that I just wasn't feeling the urge to write, not one bit. I spent months, then, not writing anything. While I have to admit that I enjoyed a break from the writing blitz I had been on for two years, I was nervous that it was going to be a permanent state of mind.
Thankfully, it wasn't. After the fateful weekend of hiking five miles on both a Saturday and a Sunday, I got my drive back. I was very relieved and happy to have come out of the slump that had been affecting, not just the Write Life but, my whole life. Since then, I've been back in the saddle, just like I never left, and the past six months are now firmly behind me.
I'd been so prolific in the Write Life before, so having all this time this year without much writing was tough. I did, admittedly, publish Deep, Dark, and Lovely, but it wasn't really ready, I just needed to get something out there. I've been hard at work on The Box though, and I'm really digging the way it's coming together. I'm plugging away at a good clip on the meat of the story, and it won't be long before I'm on the downhill climb. So, to that end, it's time for a teaser! As always, feel free to leave me comments, kudos, or your criticisms in the comments.
a nervous knot in the pit of his stomach, he carefully watched the forest. As
he concentrated all his senses on the woods, he started to become aware of
movements in his peripheral vision. Remembering the shadows from earlier, his
concentration moved from the woods to that which was just out of sight. He
could sense the shadows around him, but he could not see them by turning his
head. They were always just out of full sight, and it was maddening. He
remembered seeing them clearly in the reflections of Heidi’s eyes, and he
wondered what they wanted.
As he pondered, a feeling of dread washed over him, and he glanced back to the trees. The sensation of being
watched was overwhelming, and he hurriedly stood up. He decided right then and
there that he needed to leave Gran’s farm, and he needed to do so right away.
He practically bolted through the house as he ran upstairs to grab his bag. It
was sitting right where he left it: on the bed in the guest room, unpacked.
The sense of dread intensified as he
walked out into the upstairs hallway. Hearing all the commotion, Heidi came out
from her room with a baffled look on her face. “What…what’s going on?” she
asked as she watched him walk down the stairs. Noticing his bag in his hand,
her eyes grew wide as she quickly followed him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m leaving,” Sam said curtly.
“I can’t stay here another minute,
Heidi. That’s why.”
“You can’t leave now!” Heidi
exclaimed. “We need you here!”
“Maybe you should leave too,” Sam
retorted with a sneer.
Heidi grabbed his arm and pulled
hard, stopping him at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s gotten into you?” she
demanded, “You can’t just leave Gran and I here to deal with the box alone!”
Sam could, once again, see the
reflection of shadows in her eyes. They were swirling next to him and behind
him, and it took all he had not to shout in frustration and fear. He yanked his
arm out of her hand. “Gran’s just fine! Did you ever think that maybe you’re
the one with the problems!” he yelled.
He bolted out to his rental car,
threw the bag inside, and climbed in as fast as he could. The car had barely
started before he put it into gear, peeled out of the driveway, and sped down
the gravel road. It was now completely dark, and he could barely see the
security light of Gran’s farmhouse in the rearview mirror through the haze of
dust. His eyes moved back to the road.--