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Check it out 

8/2/2016

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I've always enjoyed going to the library. When I was small, my mom enrolled me in the summer reading program at the downtown library. It was fun checking out different books and then telling the librarian about them we I checked them back in. Of course, back then, I'd choose thin books, sports biographies and history stories, things that still interest me today. I've always liked to read, but I had no idea then that I would grow up to be an author. I thought I'd end up in the broadcast booth, a play-by-play man or analyst.

But fast forward a few decades and I'm convinced that being an author is my true calling. It's a play-by-play man of a different sort. And my stories are much longer than those few thousand word books I used to read. But they are on the shelves of libraries, and it's always exciting to hear librarians telling me they are being checked out regularly.

Today, I experienced an even bigger thrill. I went to the library on the campus of Northeast Alabama Community College with my mom to view a collection of Civil War artifacts that were housed in the reference room. I've said many times that history and haunts go hand in hand, and my ghost story collection, Hollers from the Hollows, is not only included in this special collection, it was being used for research by patrons working on a project. Research! My book!

Now that's rewarding.
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Hollers From The Hollows 

10/25/2015

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I don't usually blatantly promote my books. But, with Halloween less than a week away, I thought I would mention the first book I wrote, HOLLERS FROM THE HOLLOWS. It's a family-friendly collection of ghost stories set primarily in DeKalb County, Alabama. There are 17 stories of haunts that are (mostly) true accounts - haunted houses, ancient cemeteries, historic buildings, phantom and UFO sightings.

Whether or not you believe in ghosts is up to you. I didn't until my mother, who is the most level-headed person I know, told me about her encounter with a woman who manifested in her bedroom late one night. Since then, I've been open to the possibility that people see "something" that may or may not be out of the ordinary. I captured a ghost on film. Antebellum Annie was seen in an upper window at the old courthouse in the Lebanon community. When I started asking around, people began to share their stories with me. The result was my first book. The stories have been compared to those penned by the late great Kathryn Tucker Windham. 

The stories are popular. Last week I sold out of all I had on hand at Colorfest. If I had had 50 copies with me, I probably could have sold every one of them. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to order additional copies. As long as they're selling, I'm happy. Folks have asked me if I plan to write another volume. I don't know; maybe. Perhaps I should. I don't put much stock in all the paranormal stuff, but it is fun to tell, or hear, a good ghost story - especially this time of year. Happy Halloween!        
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Alabama Ghosts Book Launch Party 

8/3/2015

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My friend and colleague, Debra Glass, has invited me to be a guest host this Thursday evening, August 6, as she launches her latest volume of ghost stories from the Shoals area of north Alabama. Also appearing will be Jessica Penot, as well as Keith & Tashina from Half Minute Horror. It's sure to be a fun time as we talk about Alabama ghosts and things that go bump in the night.

Debra is a great writer, and I'm thrilled to be a part of this event. Of course, I've read 13 Alabama Ghosts and Jeffrey by the late, great Kathryn Tucker Windham. My book, HOLLERS FROM THE HOLLOWS has even been favorably compared to it. High praise, indeed. But, it was Debra who inspired me to write about ghosts. Her true Shoals ghost stories collections are superb. She's also a fantastic oral storyteller. I've had the privilege to sign with her on a couple of occasions, and to hear her tell a story is truly entertaining. In fact, if you ever get a chance to go on her Haunted History of the Shoals Ghost Walk, held every October in Florence, Ala., don't miss it. It's something you won't soon forget. 

To join us for the Facebook book launch party, please visit this link:
https://www.facebook.com/events/1448328222140400/

Sweet screams. Happy haunting. 
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Making A Good First Impression  

7/19/2015

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Back on the second day of July, I went to see a new country group, a trio of girls who call themselves Sweet Tea Trio. I had never heard of them before a full page ad ran in the Fort Payne Times-Journal announcing their upcoming appearance as part of the Independence Day celebration. Well, about two songs into their set, I was hooked. These young ladies are all 18 years old, sing, write their own songs and play instruments. They are very talented, and are working on original songs to record for a forthcoming EP. They plan to pitch their album to major record labels in Nashville in hopes of securing a major recording contract. I wish them the best of luck. I pray their dreams come true. I've since been to another of their concerts, and was even more blown away. Needless to say, they made a lasting first impression.  

I got to meet them after both shows. In Fort Payne, I was first in line at the meet and greet. I mentioned that I was a writer and had two books of ghost stories. They seemed interested, so I sent them a link to my website. Last night, after their show, I again went by to say hello, and they all recognized me. One of them even said she had checked out my stories. I guess I made a good first impression. All right. How cool would it be if they made it big in the music business and remembered me and my work? Very special! Last night we talked as if we were friends. Know what? That's exactly what we are.  

I'm tickled when anyone buys my books, reads my articles or attends my speaking engagements. My goal is to leave a lasting impression. Any customer, especially repeat customers, are special. But to have people remember you, you first have to make a good first impression.    
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Happy New Year  

12/28/2014

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I truly love this time of year.  During the holidays I always like to slow down and reflect back on the year.  I had a good one, and I hope you did, as well.  For me, my writing vastly improved.  The more I work at it, the better it gets.  I received some 4-star reviews for my ghost story collection Hollers From The Hollows, and my historical fiction novella A Secessionist Christmas Carol garnered a 5-star review.  Both sold better this year than last, mostly because I was healthier and able to market them.  I look forward to spreading the word even more in 2015.  Plus, my latest historical fiction novel is shaping up, and I believe this coming year will see me signing with a literary agent and really diving head-first into a writing career. 

Becoming active on social media got me in contact with fascinating people.  I met several writers, not just connecting with them, but becoming friends.  I also had a good year musically.  It is so much fun to play and sing with friends on a weekly basis and at church.  It was also fun to meet and get to know Eden, Cathy Maguire and Isabel Angeli on Twitter.  Their music is fantastic!  I even got to tweet with my favorite actress, Connie Sellecca!  Wow!

My Red Sox had a very disappointing year, but the Alabama Crimson Tide and Dallas Cowboys are vying for championships in football.  A local high school team, the Fyffe Red Devils, won the 2A Alabama State Championship.  It was a lot of fun telling ghost stories to the kids at Fyffe during their historic run.  I look forward to more assemblies with school kids.  I like seeing their reactions to Antebellum Annie, the ghost I caught on film.  I get a kick out of eyes widening and jaws dropping.  

So...2015...what will you bring?  I hope it will be filled with good health, happiness, excitement and much success for all of us.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

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More Excerpts From A Secessionist Christmas Carol   

12/15/2014

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   Eleazor knew full well he had double locked his door, and was therefore stuck out in the cold.  He grabbed the doorknob with a shriveled, trembling hand anyway, hoping the giant ghost had somehow unlocked it for him.  No dice.  The bolts held firm.
   . . . Eleazor was close to succumbing to unconsciousness.  He was shaken back to alertness by a hand that was paler and even more shriveled than his own.
   . . . The red eyes glowed menacingly from inside the hood, and the hand reached out and snatched Eleazor off the ground.  He screamed as both he and the phantom floated across the river, merely inches from the water's surface.  A beaver angrily slapped its paddle-like tail on the surface of the partly-frozen liquid when they touched down next to its den near the mouth of an arroyo on the opposite bank.
   The phantom hand also slapped the water.  It pointed to Eleazor, and then to the river.  When Smitherman hesitated, it balled into a fist.  "I'll look! I'll look," Eleazor cried.  "Have mercy and don't strike me."  The hand relaxed, and Smitherman peered into the water.  
   . . . Mysteriously, two sets of numbers then appeared.  They were glowing a sort of golden hue, and floating in the drink.  They worked their way over to the bank.
   The hand grabbed the first one, 360,000, and placed it on Eleazor's left shoulder.  He placed the second one, 260,000, on the right.  The numbers represented the total casualties for both the Union and Confederate armies if the war was to be fought.  The weight of the burden caused Smitten Man to sink down to his knees in the suddenly-thawed mire of the riverbank.
   A third set of numbers appeared, glowing red like the phantom's eyes.  Along with the number were images of women, children and old men.  There would be 50,000 Southern civilians who would perish if the war was fought.  Was this the excess population Smitherman intended to be wiped away?
   The phantom placed that number squarely on top of Eleazor's head.  The suddenly not-so-staunch secessionist sank down to his chin.  "Help!  I don't want this," he cried as he continued to sink.  "Spirit take them away.  Give me a chance to fix this!"
. . . The phantom was more agitated than ever.  Its hand grabbed Eleazor and slung him up into the air.  The spirit then flew underneath Smitherman to prevent him from hitting the ground.  They sailed in this fashion until they reached their final destination.  It was a run-down section of the city cemetery on the edge of town. 
   Eleazor was trembling when the spirit sat him down, and he could barely stand.  The hand pointed to a cracked concrete slab that was covered in leaves.  "I...I can...can't make out the name," Smitherman stuttered.
   The hand brushed the debris to the side and pointed again.  "I don't want to read the name," Eleazor confessed.
   The hand squeezed the back of Smitherman's neck and forced him down on his knees on top of the slab.  It then pressed Eleazor's face down to within a few inches of the inscription.  It read:  ELEAZOR SMITHERMAN  THE CAUSE OF ALL OUR GRIEF.  
   "No!" Smitherman screamed.  "Spirit have mercy!  I'll change, I'll change.  If there's still a sliver of hope let me try to fix this . . . "

Were the Southern people correct to fight to protect their homes and property?  Absolutely.  Were the politicians right to secede from the Union?  Maybe not so much.    
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Passages from A Secessionist Christmas Carol  

12/8/2014

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Do you like history, the American Civil War, Christmas, Charles Dickens and ghosts?  If so, then you will enjoy reading my Civil War twist on the classic Dickens Christmas ghost story.  Below are a few excerpts from the 5-star reviewed A Secessionist Christmas Carol:

Motley was dead. Dead as a doornail, or doorknocker, as Eleazor Smitherman would counter whenever the subject was brought up.  Smitherman and John Motley had been business partners.  They were cotton brokers when cotton was king, and had become filthy rich.  But, all the money in the world could not keep ole Motley from meeting his doom.  He had passed into eternity seven years ago to the day; Christmas Eve 1853.  That was an indisputable and irreversible fact. 

Smitherman had been the executor and administrator of Motley's will.  He was, in effect, John's only friend, in the very loosest definition of the word.  An affable acquaintance would be a more accurate description.  Motley cared for money and himself, not others.  Eleazor liked that.  Thus, he had also been the only mourner on that cold, bleak and lonely day.

The sign outside the office that he kept on Richardson Street in Columbia, South Carolina, still read SMITHERMAN AND MOTLEY.  Eleazor had never bothered to have it painted over or replaced.  The rusty hinges prevented it from swinging freely, and on blustery days, such as this particular Christmas Eve, it made an odd sort of creaking sound . . .    

. . . Smitherman ran over to the window.  It had fogged over, but when he wiped it off with his sleeve, he gasped at the sight before him.

In the small courtyard, along with Motley, were many other spirits.  All of them were fettered and moaning.  Smitherman recognized several of them, including one of the secession delegates who had dropped dead of a heart attack early that very evening . . .

. . . Eleazor noticed a movement under the spirit's robe, and the apparition opened it to reveal two skinny, dirty children with mischievous eyes.  "Are they yours?" Smitherman asked.  

"They cling to me," the spirit replied.  "The boy is Ignorance, and the girl is Want.  Fear them!  But what's even more terrifying is stupidity - a willful lack of intelligence.  

"Evil is the spawn produced when stupidity mates with arrogance, and it is a most unruly offspring.  When it runs rampant, so too will want.  Your war will produce much of both."  

The spirit closed his robe around the children and vanished.  Eleazor stood in the cold and cried.  His tears ran partway down his cheeks, and then froze to his face.        
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Excerpts from Hollers From The Hollows  

10/5/2014

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With Halloween approaching, I thought it would be fun to share excerpts from my collection of DeKalb County, Alabama, ghost stories.  They have been compared to those penned by the late great Kathryn Tucker Windham, and I have been reviewed as making learning history fun.  History and haunts go hand in hand.  Hope you enjoy. 

From THE LADY AT THE FOOT OF THE BED - "If someone had asked me a few years ago if I believed in ghosts, I would have replied with a definitive 'No'...That view abruptly changed after my mom told me about a strange encounter that she experienced.  She claimed that she saw an apparition standing at the foot of her bed one night.  The figure of a woman was dressed in white, and had woken her from a sound sleep by repeatedly calling her name...Mother sat up and loudly asked 'What do you want?'  When spoken to, the ghost quickly vanished and has not been seen again...Clairaudience: she had a conversion with a real live ghost.  Well, live may not be the appropriate word....Since mother's sighting, I have had three encounters of my own."  

From MY RESIDENT GHOST - "For years, one of our cats has acted like she has an imaginary friend.  She will spread her feet out and crouch low to the floor, then look up at the ceiling and take off running as fast as she can.  She will race from one end of the house to the other, then come flying back, swish her tail back and forth, look back up at the ceiling and then tear off through the house again...I have often commented that the ghost kitty is chasing her.  I may not be too far off with that assessment...in 2011 cabinet doors began to mysteriously open, lights were shut off by themselves and a piece of molding came loose and crashed to the floor...If I have to be haunted, it would be nice if it was by a beautiful babe.  It would be my luck, though, that I would get a crabby old man; a Jacob Marley/Ebenezer Scrooge type." 

From THE OLD COURTHOUSE AT LEBANON - "Living souls are not the only ones visiting the old courthouse.  Several people claim to have seen the image of a young woman appear in an upstairs window.  She looks forlornly out over the grounds for a short time and then disappears...I, myself, have had an encounter with "Antebellum Annie".  She manifested herself and waved to me as I snapped a picture.  She had dark hair and was wearing a full-length print dress.  A few seconds later she was gone...Maybe I remind her of a long-lost lover or family member.  Perhaps some day she will reveal who or what she is looking for."     
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The Phantom Cavalry

8/24/2014

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As I schedule events for the autumn, I'm already thinking about ghosts and goblins.  I'm excited about The Phantom Cavalry of Little River Canyon being chosen to run as a feature in the fall edition of Lookout Alabama magazine.  It's the cover story of my book Hollers from the Hollows.  The editors are running it as a fiction story, and okay, I did take bits and pieces of things people told me and combined them into a compelling story.  So, are the phantoms real or not?

Well, the coffin-shaped rock located on Eberhart Point at Little River Canyon is definitely real.  No one seems to know exactly how or why it got there.  Union and Confederate soldiers roamed the area during the Civil War and the Cherokee lived there for thousands of years before being forced away on the Trail of Tears.  The 500-foot drop into the canyon is also very real.  People have reported hearing strange rumblings and seeing ghost-like apparitions floating over the abyss.  Maybe the phantom cavalry is not so made up, after all.

Just to be safe, if you're visiting the area and suddenly hear what sounds like horses' hooves coming at a gallop, move away from the ledge.  You wouldn't want to be conscripted into riding forever with the phantoms, would you? 

I think I'll go play my guitar for a while.  For some reason Ghost Riders in the Sky is on my mind. 
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Do you believe in ghosts?   

8/10/2014

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While taking pictures of the old courthouse in the Lebanon community of DeKalb County on November 1, 2011, I captured the image of a ghost.  No really.  Take a look at the upper right window and you can see "Antebellum Annie" waving to me with her left hand while her right arm rests down at her side.  (For a closer view please refer to the home page.)  Her right hand seems to be coming through the glass of the window pane.  Spooky!!

For years there has been the rumor that a female spirit roamed the upstairs of the historic structure, and it's true!  But why did she choose to manifest herself to me?  Maybe it's because I was writing her story, to be included in my collection of ghost stories and spooky tales from DeKalb County titled Hollers From The Hollers.  Or perhaps it's because I remind her of someone special.  She's waiting for her Johnny to come marching home.  Is she still forlornly waving goodbye, or waving hello?  Was someone beside me that I wasn't aware of? 

This is another legitimate reason to preserve historic structures.  When something dramatic or traumatic occurs at a place it leaves an indelible mark that cannot be erased.  When they are neglected or torn down, not only does the outside vanish, what's inside does as well.  These old places have stories to tell.  Voices are calling, and spirits waving, to us.  We need to pay attention.  There are lessons to be learned in preservation.         
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    Author

    Greg is a writer of fiction and non-fiction.  He has penned articles for newspapers and magazines and authored two books to date.  

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