The Afterworld According to Corey Taylor

My book review about Corey Taylor's book, A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Heaven (Or, How I Made Peace with the Paranormal and Stigmatized Zealots and Cynics in the Process had been posted.

Speaking of books, last October Nick Groff published a book titled Chasing Spirits: The Building of the Ghost Adventures Crew. I never even really knew about it until a few months ago. I hope it's better than Zak Bagans's book. Not that Zak's book was bad; I just wanted more about his encounters with the other side than how-to tips for aspiring ghost hunters.

This makes me think of another thing: I bet Nick didn't opt for any glam pics in his book the way Zak and Corey Taylor did, although I think Corey wins that glam ghoul photo contest (if there was such a thing).

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Heaven

I write book reviews and the book I'm reading now is called A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Heaven: (Or, How I Made Peace with the Paranormal and Stigmatized Zealots and Cynics in the Process). The title alone made me pick it out for review. When I got it in the mail I was surprised to learn it was written by lead singer of Slipknot, Corey Taylor. I was a little hesitant as I started the book, hoping it wasn't going to be a maudlin, over-the-top, in-your-face-motherfucker! account of this guy's run ins with ghosts. Well it is, but it's brilliantly funny and smart as well.

Taylor recounts in chilling detail the encounters he's had, beginning at a young age, with things that go bump in the night. I'm not done with the book yet, but so far I've read about a horrifying abandoned house in the woods that he and his friends broke into when he was a kid, a haunted mansion in the Hollywood Hills where Slipknot recorded one of their albums (and where he ran into a ghost butler while naked in the shower), and his own houses that have included odd things like a shadow man that followed around his then three-year-old son.

Because Taylor writes with such zest and wit, I'm too busy laughing to be scared. But after I put the book down, I start thinking about the stories he's shared. That shadow man, in particular, forced me to leave the hall light on last night.

Zak's Bagans: Deep Soul or Douche Bag?

I've been reading Dark World by Zak Bagans. All I can say is Ho Hum. The book is basically a guide for would-be ghost hunters. A lot of the chapters are devoted to all the things we Ghost Adventures fans are already literate in. For example: EVPs, the equipment GAC use, residual hauntings vs. intelligent hauntings, blah blah blah.

zzzzzzzzzz. . .


There is one chapter in the book that really held my attention and it's the one that's actually about Zak. The chapter recollects Zak's childhood, his vulnerabilities, and why he turned to ghost hunting. Fascinating stuff and what I really wanted more of out of this book. I thought the book would be more like a bio than a how-to guide. Oh well, I can respect that Zak keeps his privacy fairly maintained, but I wouldn't be so disappointed if I didn't find him so interesting.

Who is this brawny, uber metro-sexual, ghost-hunting ruffian (love that word)? Is he a drama queen, a deep soul, or just a douche bag?  I do hope to find out.

Zak Bagans Releases a Book

Who knew? I just found out that Zak Bagans wrote a book (in conjunction with Kelly Crigger), which was released last week. It's called Dark World: Into the Shadows with the Lead Investigator of Ghost Adventures.

Yeah, it's going on my Amazon wishlist. I still love that ghost-heckling meathead.

The book will be displayed at the front of Barnes and Noble until Halloween. You can read a review of the book here.

OK, I just read the review. Now it looks like I'm going to have to run out and buy the damned thing.

Supernatural Skanks

The Huffington Post recently published an articled titled "Worst Paranormal Book Sex Scenes". The author, Paul Goat Allen, writes:

"Many readers tell me that they would rather have no sex scene at all than a badly written or awkwardly choreographed sex scene – but I disagree. Sometimes a bad sex scene produces laugh-out-loud entertainment and makes an unremarkable read suddenly memorable – albeit for the wrong reasons. And in the case of novels like Peeler’s "Tracking the Tempest," bizarrely described sex sequences can make a good story truly unforgettable – for all of the right reasons."

Allen then lists his favorite supernatural steam scenes, which are all hilarious, but my favorite is from "A Brush of Darkness" by Allison Pang:

"He was a velvet rock in my hand."


Nicely put, Pang.

"Bronwyn: Silk and Steel" by Ron Miller the grande finale of Allen's list:

“Her pubes was a field of wheat after the harvest, a field neatly furrowed; it was a nest, a pomegranate, an arrowhead, a rune. It was a shadow. It was moss on a smooth white stone. There was an orchid within the moss. There was a drop of dew upon the orchid. It had the breath of moss-beds, of the deep seas, of the abyss, of scrimshaw and blue glass, of cold iron; she had the sex of rain forests, the ibis and the scarab; she had the sex of mirrors and candles, of the hot, careful winds that stroke the veldt, the winds that taste of clay and seed and blood; the winds that dreamed of tawny, lean animals.”

If this excerpt is any indication of what the book is like, then it must be an otherworldly hodown.

Secret Histories Waiting to be Read

There's a novel titled Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs that was published earlier this year. It sounds intriguing, full of spooky stories and an abandoned building.

To promote his book, Riggs made a trailer for the book. The trailer is almost a mini-documentary about his search, along with a Dutch urban exploration photographer, in Belgium for the building in his book. Along the way, he finds lots of abandonment - a rotting forest, a forgotten train station, a long-neglected and incredibly gorgeous house. The short film has spectacular shots that convey exactly why we love urban decay. Check out the You Tube video.

Bookish Spirits

I stumbled across this site dedicated to Willard Library, the oldest, still-functioning public library in Indiana. The library, built in 1885, is situated in a large Gothic Victorian house that is rumored to be haunted. The library's site, "Library Ghost" has three cameras set up for viewers to scout out spirits. The most seen apparition is a woman in grey that has been spotted wandering the children's reading room.

This begs the question: What are these spirits reading? If you were to come back as a ghost and haunt a library, what would you pick up off the shelves one more time?

The Shivers

Some of my favorite books as a child were the stories of Frog and Toad. I now read them to my son. Here is an excerpt from "Days with Frog and Toad" that captures the essence of why I love getting the "shivers."

The Shivers (by Arnold Lobel)


The night was cold and dark.
"Listen to the wind howling in the trees," said Frog.
"What a fine time for a ghost story."
Toad moved deeper into his chair.
"Toad," asked Frog, "don't you like to be scared? Don't you like to feel the shivers?"
"I am not too sure," said Toad. 
Frog made a fresh pot of tea. He sat down and began a story. . . 


Frog then tells Toad the story of the "Old Dark Frog".
The story ends:
Frog and Toad sat close by the fire. They were scared. The teacups shook in their hands. They were having the shivers. It was a good, warm feeling.

BOOK PICK OF THE WEEK: SEEING THINGS

My husband's friend sent this story my way. In the 90s, two people living in a haunted house in Los Angeles began communicating with the ghost in residence named "Wright" through Polaroid photos.


Here is an excerpt of the story from the official site:

On Friday, February 5, 1993, the Fox TV reality show SIGHTINGS examined what may be a landmark discovery in parapsychology: convincing evidence that ghosts exist and can actually communicate with us. Two residents of an old house in the hills of Los Angeles began receiving ghostly messages in Polaroid photographs. The pair started taking photos inside the house in the hope of obtaining a picture of the entity they believed haunted the house.

After first capturing a ghostly image on film, the men discovered that if they asked questions about the entity and why it was inhabiting their house, words and messages appeared in response on their film. So far, more than 1000 photos have captured messages – photos taken not only by the residents but by paranormal researchers and other outsiders. A photographic expert at Polaroid has no explanation for the messages. An expert at California’s Brooks Institute of Photography can suggest an explanation, but it requires a lengthy set up process and hours of lab work.

The ghost or spirit calls himself “WRIGHT”. He shows signs of erudition and intelligence, writing many of his messages in Latin. The ghost first appeared on film in March 1992 after one of the residents kept hearing unexplained noises throughout the house. After a door opened mysteriously, he took a series of photos, several of which revealed a classic ghost-like shape, including dark shadows at the eyes and mouth. The messages began to appear on film in June 1992. The first was in response to a friend’s question about the ghost, “Is he here now?” The photo revealed a barely discernible “yes” in cloudy white shapes. After that, the writing became far more legible.

There are two videos on the site, one of which I'm posting below.




You can buy the book of photographs here.

There will be a gallery showing of the photos at DRKRM Gallery in LA from October 25 - November 2. The gallery address is:

2121 San Fernando Road Suite 3
Los Angeles, CA 90065
Tel 323.223.6867

A DVD is forthcoming. Looks like good stuff!

BOOK PICK OF THE WEEK

I first started reading Laura Kasischke when I only knew her as a poet (one of my favorites). I then moved on to read her dark novels, charged with the gripping language of her poetry. So I was intrigued to recently learn that she has since traveled into Young Adult territory and has published two YA novels. I finished the first one last night.

Boy Heaven is the story of three girls who go to cheerleading camp and run into a couple of boys from the "wrong side of the tracks." Kasischke is so good at capturing a mood and engaging her reader, someone would have had to wrench the book from my hands if they wanted to take a peak. Pages turned in front of my face so fast, I nearly got a breeze. Oh, all right, not really, but the book is immediately gripping and creepy. It's also indicative of what I love in light reading - a wicked, lusty, death-fueled joyride taken by teenage girls camping out in the wilds of some unamed state on a body of water called Lovers' Lake.

Boy Heaven plays on urban legends, ghost stories told around camp fires, and blossoming womenhood juxtaposed with death. That reedy dude, the Grim Reaper, is hiding behind every peeling birch tree.

If you like juicy, fun reads peppered with eerie and beautiful language, Boy Heaven is for you.

Here's are a couple small excerpts from the book:

She looked terrible. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that looked painful. It was just a fat red rubber band, I could see that, and I winced when I thought of how much it was going to hurt to pull that thing out before she went to bed -- or, worse, in the morning, after all the little strands had worked their way around the rubber. She had no makeup on at all, and, without it, I could see that her eyelashes were not black, after all, put pale red, lighter than her hair. Her lips looked chapped. And she smelled like sweat. "Those boys," she said. "They're watching us from over there."

*******************************************************************************

The sun had all but set, just a deep pink glow over the other end of Lovers' Lake, and it lit up the pine trees like arrows. Only the other Kristi was looking in my direction, and she seemed to be gazing far across the lake, not noticing me at all, looking for those boys. So I stepped up to the edge of the water, and although I'd been warned a million times not to, I knelt down and cupped my right hand under the surface of it and drank from it -- the coolest and freshest water I'd ever tasted, or would ever taste again. I stood up just then the first blast exploded from the other side of the lake, and looked. It was like a huge slippery rose in the sky, shimmering before being ripped into a million pieces, being turned into burning tears and earrings, and drifting down from the darkness onto the surface of the lake, where it sizzled and writhed for a moment, then disappeared.