Dear Gothic Readers,

We’ve just had the fall equinox, meaning the seasons are tipping so that the nights are getting progressively longer than the days, beginning the best season of all: Autumn, or what I like to call “soup season”! The longer nights mean more hours for spooky fireside stories, and of course Halloween gives us all a chance to let our inner goth frolic.

Like Christmas, Halloween represents a mélange of cultural celebrations, all centering on the shift from the light and warmth of summer to the darkness and cold of winter. For people without electric light, the seasonal changes were profound.

Historically (sort of—cultural history is complicated), Halloween arose from All Hallows’ Eve, the night before All Saints’ Day, the time to not only honor official saints but also to remember ancestors, death, and dying, much like Mexico’s Día de los Muertos. Others trace its roots to Samhain (pronounced “SOW-in,” with “sow” rhyming with “cow”), the Celtic end-of-harvest festival when the dead were said to walk.

So, in honor of the equinox and accompanying cultural traditions, I’d like to think today about what it is that is so compelling about Halloween. Why is it ok, on this day, to not only think about death but to celebrate it? Mock it? Make it cute? Why are skeletons and gravestones appropriate to put in the suburban yard on Halloween? Why are tiny humans dressed as horrific nightmares—on that night and no other—considered cute enough to be rewarded with candy?

It’s true that as a culture, we don’t much like to think about death. On the one hand, half the shows on TV are about serial killers or cozy murder. But on the other hand, we also sanitize death with funeral homes and preservatives so that we can imagine our loved one simply going to sleep—somewhere else and out of sight.

And we for darned sure don’t want to cogitate on our own deaths. Oh no. If we exercise, eat right, take supplements, and most importantly, stay busy, we’ll never die. Not like those suckers who came before us and didn’t know about things like seatbelts and lung cancer. We who know better are going to cheat death. Or are we?

As you’ve probably guessed, I don’t believe that death is the end, which is why I write about ghosts and haunted places. As a species, we’re haunted by our pasts, literally and figuratively. We try to repress what is uncomfortable or unsavory (like our inevitable deaths), but the repressed always seeps out in our dreams and stories. Or maybe I should say that the repressed haunts us.

Beyond the metaphor, I believe ghosts actually exist—that some souls for some reason don’t move on to whatever is next. I don’t know why. I’ve never seen a ghost (though I would like to! Drop me a line if you’re doing a haunted experience). But not seeing something isn’t enough to prove to me something doesn’t exist. I’ve also never seen an atom or a beluga whale, but I believe those exist, as well.

Stories (both those I read and those I write) are how I work out what I believe about ghosts. I’m always on the search for books, shows, and movies about ghosts to figure out my own internal logic for how ghosts behave and act and why they exist. Feel free to drop titles for me in the comments below. I’d love to share recommendations!

One of my favs of the last few years has to be the novel series and short-lived Netflix show, Lockwood & Co. In fact, I recently re-read (ok, listened to) the whole series—both because I wanted to remind myself of what Jonathan Stroud set up as rules for ghosts in his world and also because I just enjoyed the books so bloody much. If you haven’t read (or listened to) the series, give it a try. It’s labelled as “young adult,” but the stories, like the best young adult literature, span ages.

In Stroud’s world, ghosts (“visitors”) are everywhere in England (we don’t know about the rest of the world), and these ghosts are dangerous. If they touch you, you get “ghost-touched” (killed) or “ghost-locked” (frozen and helpless). The only people who can see or hear the ghosts are psychic kids and teens, so in a turnabout, it’s the kids who have the power in Stroud’s world. Or they SHOULD have the power, except that grownups run the businesses that do the ghost hunting, even though it is kids who do the actual work and take the real risks. Stroud’s premise is brilliant and is unveiled bit by bit over the five books so that it’s really not until the end that you figure out what has really been going on. But like the best series, each book is compelling both as part of the larger arc and on its own.

As well as the premise of a haunted England, Stroud creates classifications for different “types” of ghosts depending on the spirit’s level of self-awareness and ability to communicate with the living. What’s most brilliant about the series, though, is how it’s about the simultaneous fear of death and obsession with it, which, to this gothic writer/reader, rings very true.

Maybe that’s why Halloween is so important in our world today: it’s one night a year we let the dead back in and allow ourselves to thumb our nose at death.

I hope someday to be able to write something as viscerally real and compelling as Lockwood & Co.

Now…a favor…

While we’re waiting for my first book (My Haunted Quarterlife Crisis) to be released and for me to write my second book (I promise I’m at it every day!), how about helping me name my trio of emotional support ghosts? I picked these up at Target (Target: feel free to send payment for this unsolicited product placement), and they now have a special place in my office.

But…what should I name them? I can’t decide, and I need your help. So, I’m asking you to help me decide on names for my ghosts by giving feedback and suggestions in this blog’s comments. Everyone who “votes” and subscribes to my upcoming newsletter will get a free e-copy of my first book (when it’s released)!

Some ideas for you to mull over: Should I go with literary/cinematic ghost names? Like Jacob Marley? Banquo? Hamlet’s father? Sam (from the movie Ghost)? Or (spoiler, if you’ve somehow avoided it for 25+ years, skip the next suggestion) Malcolm (from The Sixth Sense)?

Or maybe something more playful, like Beetlejuice? Casper? Nearly Headless Nick? Moaning Myrtle? Slimer (from Ghostbusters)? Or Blinky/Inky/Pinky (the ghosts from Pac-Man—sorry, Clyde)?

Or maybe I should instead pick a literary or cinematic trio who aren’t ghosts (yet)? Like: Harry, Ron, and Hermione? Luke, Leia, and Han Solo? Kirk, Spock, and McCoy? Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma? Or Alvin, Simon, and Theodore?

Or maybe something else? You tell me! But be creative! Help give these fine ghosts the identity they deserve, which I will use to label them and post their picture. And get a free e-copy of my book (when it’s released)!

Winning names announced after Halloween!

Keep your spirits up,
Anne