Since Halloween is drawing near, I thought I'd tell you my own personal -- and very real -- ghost story.
Back in April of 2007, I attended my first WRW Writer's Retreat at Historic Hilltop House in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. Built in 1888 it sits on the edge of the mountain overlooking the rushing Potomac River. Character doesn't even begin to describe this place. As we're all sitting around, drinking wine and chatting by the big stone fireplace in the lobby, some of the writers who've been to the retreat each year regailed me with their ghostly experiences of the place. I remarked that it would cool be to meet the ghost. What more could a paranormal writer want than a personal encounter with something supernatural? Little did I know that I was soon to get my wish.
Later that night, as a storm raged outside (talk about atmosphere), I was laying in my lumpy twin bed while my roommate finished up in the bathroom. Over the clap of thunder, I heard someone walking around in the room above us. Back and forth, back and forth, they paced. I was thinking, "Great, I hope they aren't up partying all night. I've got an editor appointment in the morning." As soon as my roomie came to bed and turned out the light, the noise stopped and I thought nothing more of it . . . until the next day.
I was out in the parking lot getting something out of my van when I looked up and located our room with the open window, faded floral curtains fluttering in the breeze. Then I looked up higher and realized that our room was located on the top floor. There was no room above us. But if that was the case, who (or what) was walking over my head the night before? Surely it wasn't a hotel employee doing something out on the roof during a thunderstorm. Could the ghost have overheard my wish and paid me a little visit? Guess I'll never know for sure, but my kids like to think so.