About Art & Narrative Posts

This is something new I am doing this year for the third annual PumpkinFest here in my home town. Since its inception there has been an Art & Authors event that takes place among all the other activities and events occurring during PumpkinFest.

 The first year (2017), I appeared as an author with several paranormal and supernatural themed novels and anthologies. We were located in the old Town Hall, with artists in one room and authors across the hall in another. There were five authors that year, with one missing the event. It went over very well.

Year two (2018), we were moved outside onto Elm Street with Authors on the sidewalk and Artists in the empty lot nearby. It rained all morning, making for a soggy set up, and a muddy field for the authors to contend with. There were just four authors who braved the foul weather, although the afternoon during the actual event which began at noon and ran until six o'clock turned out to be nice, although on the cool side. I had books, including the newly published The Hanging Man and other stories, The Clockmaker's Son, and the seldom promoted dystopian novel Worth of a Woman for sale. in 2018 I had BicycleCity Black Squirrels pen & ink drawings available, a small miracle considering I'd only begun drawing the squirrels in very late August/very early September, the first two original drawings being given away during International Art Drop Day which is always the first Tuesday in September. My brother Jeffrey helped me out, running to get me hot coffee to thaw me out and making me and Rhonda Boulette, who was set up next to me, laugh.

Now comes year three (2019) and I wanted to do something more inline with the Halloween themed event, so I began drawing classic movie monsters and Halloween themed things like a vampire bat, a raven, a black cat hissing... I am concentrating on the classic movie monsters at the moment and hope to have at least six done for this event. I am drawing images of The Mummy, Frankenstein's Monster, Nosferatu, The Wolfman, Dracula, The Phantom of the Opera...that's the game plan. Any additional art I manage to get done in the next 19 days will be the cherries on top. Instead of rehashing the plot of the movies and novels these classic movie monsters appear in, I am writing brief new fiction narratives inspired by the art that will accompany each image. I've posted them here on the blog individually. I'll also have copies of my new ghost stories anthology Only Boo, and nothing more, and other paranormal and supernatural themed books for sale at my table. Daughter, Kelly Buffum, will have her four books, Parapsychology, Empathic Touch, Teleport, and Hawksits for sale during the event also.

Enjoy the Art & Narratives and feel free to comment on them. I'm always interested to hear what people think.

Art & Narrative:#4: The Wolfman

THE WOLFMAN



“Johnny,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the full moon that had risen above the cliffs behind us during our rapid descent from the mountain. My Backpack was heavy with rock and mineral specimens, as was his. My rock hammer, chisels, and small pickaxe jangled discordantly in the loops sewn to the sides of my pack. “Look at the moon. It’s so big and beautiful!” He grunted. “Do you think the ranger left the gate unlocked like he said he would? He wouldn’t lock us in the park, would he?” He didn’t answer me, but he did stop walking. I nearly collided with him. “We shouldn’t have stayed up there so long.” He sort of growled in response. It was my fault we were running late. I had dawdled, delaying our descent.


Shrugging his shoulders, kind of snorting and making throaty sounds, he began writhing, working the heavy pack off his shoulders. “What’s the matter? Is it your asthma? Do you need your inhaler?” Abruptly, he dropped his backpack. I yelped as I leapt backwards to avoid it landing on my toes, stumbled, and fell backwards. Johnny was hunched over, tearing and ripping at his shirt. “Hey, it’s okay! I’ve got your inhaler right here.” I’d worked it out of my jacket pocket, holding it out to him just as he turned toward me.


Captured in the light of the moon, I saw a terrifying creature- part Johnny, part wild beast. His clothing was torn to shreds. Dark fur covered his head and face, his torso, arms, and legs.He threw his head back and howled like a wolf.


My flesh crawled across my bones as he lowered his head, opening his slavering jaws widely. I saw sharp teeth glistening just before he dropped onto all fours.


And then he lunged at me…..

Art ^ Narrative: #3 Nosferatu

NOSFERATU

“My God, what is that thing?” I cried, my words echoing in the burnt out ruins of the gothic church. I turned in circles, the flame erratic in my lantern. “Edward! John! Where are you?” I could no longer hear the low, murmuring voices of my friends, the crunch of their boots over cold cinders and crumbling stone. And then another flash of red as mu lantern caught once more the hideous visage of the thing! It was standing in a charred niche once occupied by a statue of a saint. I shuddered. With a rustling sound, as of bed sheets flapping on a line, it rushed toward me more swiftly that I could have imagined. It was upon me, snarling, snuffling like a hound as it grabbed me, bending my head toward one shoulder. And then…and then, its sharp teeth pierced the flesh of my neck. My heart was pounding, the drumbeat of it loud in my ear. Boom! Boom!...but then it grew softer as a lethargic feeling washed over me. Too late I remembered that stake Edward had carved. I had been gripping it in my right fist. I heard it clatter to the stone floor. Too late…

Art & Narrative: #2 Frankenstein's Monster

FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER

 I saw this monster of Frankenstein’s once. Where others saw nothing but a loathsome, a fearsome creature, a force of destruction and death, I saw only its suffering. It had been created from a body that had found peace in death, whose soul had found release; had been crudely stitched, rudely jolted by electrical force back into an appalling parody of life. I saw the tatters of its former self in the depths of its tormented gaze, pleading for release; the frightening awakening of its realization of what had been done to it, the dawning comprehension of its horror, and the ignition of its burning rage.

Art & Narrative: #1 The Mummy

THE MUMMY

The Prince’s handsome face was ruined in the chariot accident; his body broken and mangled beneath the hooves of horses and unforgiving wheels, yet he was carefully prepared and bandaged by the priests, the bandages the only thing holding him together.


Placed in a sarcophagus adorned with gold leaf, lapis lazuli, carnelian, and agate, he was interred in the bowels of a hastily excavated tomb among an array of goods that would be useful to him in the afterlife.


In their haste, all of the Prince’s internal organs were stuffed haphazardly back into his empty body cavity- or were they? Only after the tomb had been sealed did they find his heart that had fallen beneath the table upon which he had been prepared.


And now, twenty three years past the turn of the twentieth century A.D., a shadowy form emerges from the gaping mouth of the excavation, lurching and stumbling toward the campfires in the distance where archaeologists dream of golden treasures encrusted with precious gemstones and jewels. They cannot begin to comprehend the danger they are in as the Prince shambles toward them, for unbeknownst to them they have among the artifacts removed from a shallow minor tomb nearby an alabaster canopic jaw in which the Prince’s heart had been secretly concealed and buried among the possessions of a low ranking priest long ago.


On this night, the heartless Prince has arisen. He seeks to reclaim his heart. Oh! Beware! He draws near now, bandaged feet dragging through the soft, shifting sand.


Beware! He comes!

Only BOO and nothing more NEW BOOK!

I haven't had a chance to post much here lately. It's drawing nearer to the Haunting Season which is my time of year, so I've been busy preparing this new book, just released this afternoon in the Amazon marketplace. The Kindle ebook will follow shortly. I need to removed the irrelevant page numbers from the table of content because I don't think they'll line up correctly in ebook format.

Anyway- I've been busy  drawing classic movie monsters (have the mummy and Frankenstein's monster drawn and brief new narratives inspired by the pictures written. I'm working n Nosferatu now. Want to get the Wolfman done, and my version of he creature from the black lagoon before PumpkinFest on October 19th, and a Halloween event at the Agawam Public Library.

Only BOO, and nothing more is a collection of 12 new stories and a poem I wrote many years ago for a Poe group I belonged to on Yahoo, using the cadence and stanza format of Poe's The Raven, called Trick or Treat, and Nothing More. Then I gleaned 16 stories from 13 and Miss Peculiar's Ghost Stories, Volume I that have never been republished in a smaller 5x8 format book and tucked them into this volume for a total of 29 haunting ghost and other tales. I may retire 13 and Miss Peculiar's Ghost Stories, Volume I since I think I've moved all the stories from those two books into Disturbing (anthology I wrote with daughter Kelly adding her stories), and The Hanging Man and other stories.

I had an interesting and lively conversation with a co-worker today who has also lived in a haunted house. She gave me some ideas for new ghost stories.

And I should take a moment to again thank author Russell Atwood who invited me to read a chiller story at his first Ghost Stories LIVE! event at the local indie book shop back in October 2016, I believe it was. He made me a permanent cast member and I've had fun writing new ghost stories for each recurring event over the past three years. Many of these ghost stories appear in Only BOO, and nothing more. The tradition of telling ghost stories is a old one. It was all the rage during Victorian times when spiritualism and seances were very popular, but the tradition dates back further than the 1800's. I've been fortunate to have been a part of the oral ghost story renaissance, and to have developed a following. I tend to be a quiet person who keeps to herself, so these story telling events helped me step out of the shadows and share my stories.

I'm off to write a ghost story for the Glow Walk taking place on our beautiful bike path here in town on October 14th. They want oral storytellers to walk and talk and tell tales during rest breaks. I was contacted an asked to participate but am unable to as I have to work, and have health issues that make walking distances difficult, but said I would contribute some stories. Kelly may contribute some of her flash fiction ghost stories, too.

Let the Haunting begin!