A Pinch of Salt

My good friend Judi Walsh is now a published author! You may remember she guest posted for me during the A to Z Challenge with her lovely story Spring Will Be A Little Late This Year.  She prefers writing short stories, loving the economy of words, so to know she submitted one to the Salt Publishing New Writers competition – well we had high hopes.

Judi’s story was shortlisted and she made the Runner-up list – which gave her an entry into Salt’s Anthology of New Writing 2013.  You can buy it at Amazon and at the Salt website.

I browsed around Salt, as one does if one is a writer and on a publisher’s website.  In particular I checked out their submission policy.  They don’t accept previously self-published work, nor sequels to published work.  They don’t accept much that I’m interested in writing.  Except – one thing caught my eye.  This is a Norfolk company.  They are looking for good Norfolk Gothic.  Gothic-genre novels set in Norfolk places and spaces.

So I started thinking.  Gothic genre.  Like Wilkie Collins.  What’s the modern equivalent?  I mused upon it, studied Wikipedia.  Thought about it.  In parallel I thought about Norfolk places.  What could be a good setting that I knew well?  I thought about two or three large old mansions not far from my village…  I thought about dark and spooky nights.  I woke up next morning with a sort of poem in my head.  A poem?? The next day I managed to recapture most of it.  I don’t know whether my mind is going down the right path or not, but this looks like something I could play with, flesh out a lot.  What do you think?

The House on the Hill

Don’t go up to the house on the hill.
I dare you to go, it’ll give you a thrill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill,
Strange noises are heard there, it once was a mill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill –
It’s a frightening place, it’ll give you a chill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill;
The people are crazy, they’re mentally ill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill –
I’ve heard there are vampires who’ll drink their fill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill,
The wolves will be waiting, they’re primed for a kill.

Don’t go up to the house on the hill;
They’re waiting
They’re waiting
Waiting
Still.

(c) J M Pett 2013

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