I See Dead People
No, I don't. Not really. Sometimes in my dreams.
One of my characters . . . I think she might actually, though. She talks to them.
So do I. Not in a "She has FINALLY lost her mind" sort of way, but a "Grandma, if you could talk to the Big Man, I could really use some help today" kind of way.
For the most part, I don't HEAR dead people, if that makes you think I'm less insane. Not that I care. I've been called worse. ;-)
But I realized something, as I worked on this book last night. While I do, in 2007, have a book coming out where the devil's got a signing bonus if you go to the Dark Side, I don't often have angels or demons or dead men talking. :-) But I also realized, going back a blog entry or two, that I almost always have the forces of good versus evil. And something more. No, I don't have Jedi knights running around, but I do have the good guys imbued with something that gives them some added faith, some added belief. Not the Force. But something. I have a new character coming in my August release, Trace of Doubt. He 's a Japanese detective named Ben Sato. He's a warrior. He needs a war. So he goes after cold cases. And Lewis, whom some of you know from Trace of Innocence, he is an atheist, but he believes the dead can't rest until he figures it all out. It's not that he thinks he's going to heaven. He doesn't. But he believes there's something he can't quite put his finger on that binds the dead to us.
So I talk to dead people. So do my characters. How 'bout you? ;-)
One of my characters . . . I think she might actually, though. She talks to them.
So do I. Not in a "She has FINALLY lost her mind" sort of way, but a "Grandma, if you could talk to the Big Man, I could really use some help today" kind of way.
For the most part, I don't HEAR dead people, if that makes you think I'm less insane. Not that I care. I've been called worse. ;-)
But I realized something, as I worked on this book last night. While I do, in 2007, have a book coming out where the devil's got a signing bonus if you go to the Dark Side, I don't often have angels or demons or dead men talking. :-) But I also realized, going back a blog entry or two, that I almost always have the forces of good versus evil. And something more. No, I don't have Jedi knights running around, but I do have the good guys imbued with something that gives them some added faith, some added belief. Not the Force. But something. I have a new character coming in my August release, Trace of Doubt. He 's a Japanese detective named Ben Sato. He's a warrior. He needs a war. So he goes after cold cases. And Lewis, whom some of you know from Trace of Innocence, he is an atheist, but he believes the dead can't rest until he figures it all out. It's not that he thinks he's going to heaven. He doesn't. But he believes there's something he can't quite put his finger on that binds the dead to us.
So I talk to dead people. So do my characters. How 'bout you? ;-)
posted by Erica Orloff at 8:03 AM
9 Comments:
Good morning, Erica.
I think you already know that I talk to dead people. :)
What happens after death is, of course, a mystery, the biggest of them all. But death itself is no mystery. Respirations cease, and the heart stops beating. That's all there is to it.
An atheist will tell you that the life force dies with the body, but I don't believe that. I believe in the eternal soul, and that most of us have lived previous lives.
I like to think of Heaven as a pyramid, where only those who have lived enough lives and who have learned enough get to rise to the apex and stay close to God. At the base of the pyramid are the new souls, and they have a long way to go.
I think that occasionally people on Earth are lucky enough to meet one of their soul mates, a soul that was close to them in Heaven's pyramid. Those souls are always with us, even after the body dies, and it gives us comfort to talk with them sometimes.
Hey Jude (same lame salutation I posted on your blog). Good morning. I am about to dive into my second QUART of coffee. :-)
I love your afterlife view. It's so coincidental to be discussing this, but in two of my upcoming Billie Quinn books, I have her "connected" intellectually with this Japanese detective in a way that's her "other half," as if her whole life she had been waiting to finally feel intellectually at ease with someone and along he comes and it makes no sense . . . and so yeah, that concept of meeting a soul mate. Supremely romantic. I think any good writer striving to embed a love story into a book should be working to write about that kind of connection.
E
"Hey Jude" is my favorite song!
I've always felt that, somehow, it was written for me, even though McCartney claims he was thinking about John and Julian Lennon when he wrote it.
I was fortunate enough to sing the chorus with Paul at a concert back in '91 (me and 50,000 other fans). :)
Of course it was for you and not Julian. :-)
And lucky you on seeing him in '91. I'm a huge fan. Along with Springsteen, John Hiatt, Bob Dylan (I was lucky enough to see him do an acoustic show when I was twentyish in like 1987 or 1988?? I can't recall exactly--he actually enunciated that I could understand him fairly well), REM, the Clash . . . love Django Reinhardt, though I would have to hear dead people playing jazz in order to hear him "live" at the moment. :-)
E
I saw Springsteen twice on his Born In The USA tour. What a show that guy puts on!
I saw him too. In the Meadowlands. I think I saw you. ;-)
E
I thought I recognized you from somewhere...
I talk to very specific dead people: my dad, my grandmas. For a dead person, my dad gives great advice! He's always saying, "Go for it, hon!" ::sniff:: I miss my dad.
Hey Karm, Sweetie:
Welcome back from vacation and the Hell That Is Moving.
I hear you . . . grief is such a unique journey. My grandma has been gone for about 12 years. Maybe a year ago, I opened a box and found one of her letters to me. This tangible thing, in her handwriting. And I burst into tears for an hour like she had passed away the day before. It came from nowhere, and shocked the hell out of me. Well, actually, it didn't come from nowhere. It came from that grieving place inside us that is always there, just with varying degrees of intensity.
E
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