I really enjoyed this newsletter! Plumbing the depths of my childhood for plot bunnies is not an unfamiliar activity for me, perhaps there is something about us Mainers and our environment? The part where you talked about adults and their lack of censor around a child because they think the child doesn't or won't understand... described my grandmother perfectly. Of course I sometimes think some of the things she would say in my presence were said on purpose to scare me, but that in itself adds a new level of horror... why would an adult do that?           From MacTíre Taibhse GhostWolf

When I was only about five or six, we were still living in Goose Creek, South Carolina(located just on the edge of Charleston.) I remember that Halloween being dressed as a gypsy to go trick-or-treating. There was one house in particular that I loved. It was right on the edge of a wooded section at the end of the road. In front, they had dummies hanging from trees and set up on tables as though a mad scientist had been experimenting. Mixed in with the dummies were a few costumed members of the family. It terrified me. I loved it.
Years later I would think back on it and use it for scenes in Goosebumps and Fear Street. Even today when I measure how scary something is, I compare it to coming up to that house as the sun was sinking below the treeline. Very little has actually compared to it.           From Ency Peterson

At the ripe old age of 16, I awoke in the middle of the night to a very tall black-cloaked-and-hooded-figure standing over my bed. Its face wasn't discernible because of the hood, and as I stared at it the shape began to dissipate until it vanished right before my eyes. I was so frightened I slipped into bed with my older brother, who slept in the same room. Did I see Death in my room? Perhaps, but I've never forgotten it.
-Bill           From willwilcox

Great Newsletter! You have shared some very solid and interesting ways for one's muse to get up and at it! Thanks for sharing.           From Patrece ~