The blank slate
I used to have my own blog, years ago. Dad used to give it props and send readers my way and it gained momentum and became fun for a while. I even won an award, once. I think that was my downfall, I began to feel pressure to write content for other people’s approval instead of for the sake of my own joy. The blog became an empty space, rarely updated, all motivation lost.
Then, after a journey into sobriety after decades of mistreating myself, creativity came back and I felt the craving to write again so I began a new blog, this time not hosted by dad and not shared to anybody I knew at first. This gave me freedom to write whatever I wanted, but funnily enough the content was dull and not up to potential. I shared the site’s address with dad after a while and he’d call me up, shocked at what I’d written or telling me he was worried about me. It wasn’t worth it, so I shut that blog down too.
Now here I am again, with an opportunity to write. I wonder if anything will happen, or if it becomes another neglected pet like a fairground goldfish which loses its shine once the weeks wear away. Dad used to tell me to write about the clients I work with. I’m a care assistant so the material is certainly there, like the lady with dementia who keeps giving out to me for repeating myself or the girl with cerebral palsy who curses like a sailor or the gentleman who lives in the 17th century house whom I’m pretty sure is a ghost.
I’d love to write a book, a horror story which incorporates some Irish folklore and dark humour with inappropriate exaggerations as is the storytelling way in Ireland. I want to write it about the Hellfire Club. This is an old ruin at the top of Montpelier Hill in the Dublin mountains, built by a chap named William ‘Speaker’ Connolly in the 1700s and taken over by an extremely amoral man named Richard Parsons who was known for his shady love for the dark arts and hedonism. A faery fort which originally existed on the site was used to build parts of this building, thus cursing it for eternity. People would go there to gorge on booze and sex and murderous black magic, servants and animals were sacrificed in horrific rituals and stories tell of visits from the devil himself to join the craic. It’s a real place, with a real history and is right up there on the list of Ireland’s most haunted places.
It’s always fascinated me, the Hellfire Club. My dog hates it. She won’t go into certain parts of that ruin and likes to sit and stare at a blank part of the wall in one of the upstairs rooms and bark at it nervously. It’s a nice place to bring children for picnics, but I’d love to visit it at night time, alone. I’m sure I could make a story out of it, involving a love-triangle, a few restless spirits and an upturned sod.
But life is busy and there aren’t enough hours in the day for now, the restless souls I deal with now are very much alive and in need of feeding and the bills won’t pay themselves and I have a lot of repeating to do.
Dear Daughter
Thank you for writing.
May I suggest you get in touch with Mr Legiron: https://underdogsbiteupwards.wordpress.com/ ? – I have reason to believe he has something to do with Stories. You may be able to work together.
Please continue to share your thoughts and maybe link to your earlier writings.
I miss Grandad’s musings.
Best wishes to Herself and Yourself and family.
DP
I have to agree with DP – Legiron produces collections of short stories, many for Halloween, so your interest and his may match. It’s good to see you writing on your Dads site.
Best wishes to you and all the family
Ian J
Nice to hear from you
Hello K8
I was a reader of your first blog effort after Sandy, or more likely, her butler posted a link in here. Most entertaining. You have the gift your dad had for cutting through bullshit in a witty manner.
From this post its obvious its still there if a little rusty. I look forwards to reading whatever K8 headrambles make it into electronic print on here.
If I may be so bold as to ask is herself coping, if thats the correct word, with the loss of her beau?
Regards
Bill
Fascinating! I think you’re full of stories, all tumbling over each other and longing to come out. I love your writing, so please keep going and let them find their way. There’s no rush.
Hello Daughter ! How is Herself bearing up ?
Welcome. And thank you for taking on your father’s harness. You have inherited a lot of goodwill from the motley crew of posters and commenters courtesy of the auld fella. Good luck and may the road rise up to meet you…..etc.
Doonhamer.
The old fella had a gift for spotting the inanities of life and head-butting them with a steely shaft lightly wrapped in wit and humour.
If those genes still flourish a generation later and you can find the time to share your observations too, you’ll find a receptive, supportive and responsive audience hereabouts.
A legacy continued is a legacy not wasted.
More power to your keyboard, young lady.
I’m sure the knack for interesting anecdotes runs in the family. And it’s lovely to hear from you.
I vote that, if you want to, you should give it another go.
I’ll read…
I’m really glad you posted here, K8. I was hoping you would. Keep it coming.
I’m glad you posted. I still check my feed reader every few days in hopes of seeing something pop up from you. I for one would love to read your short stories, or blog posts or whatever you have time to scribble.