Recently, my partner and I went on a mini vacation to Seattle, for no real reason. While we were there we made sure to stop into the carousel at the pier. It wasn’t running when we got there, and it ran only once while we were there, for one single child. By the time we’d returned the next night, hoping for a crowd and maybe a spin for me, they’d taken it completely apart, but we still got a ton of pictures.

Carousels have featured in a lot of my weird, horrific little stories. (Including one I’m currently outlining for NaNoWriMo.) I’m not sure why exactly, but carousels just tilt something in my imagination. They flutter something near my heart. They just click, I guess, somewhere in my writer’s parts… they scream and they sing and they thrust their stories at me.


This one was striking in a very particular and peculiar way. I hadn’t realized at first, but as I watched it spin, faster and faster, I realized that every single horse looked either angry or in pain.

It was really surreal.


The creepy faces that stared down from the rounding boards between the mirrored shields took a more sinister glee, riding and amused by their pole trapped mounts.

White Mount

I’m going to try to make trips out to more carousels, bigger ones if I can. There are several within a reasonable drive of here, and I need to really find the feel for framing this tale. All children and ghosts, carnivals and mayhem.


So you can expect more carousel pictures… maybe even a few tidbits of character building and background.

And if you’re feeling generous, maybe drop by my fundraising page and make a donation to the NaNoWriMo fund. Support my novel effort and send me out for a night with other humans, writing furiously in fancy clothes. Everyone who donates will get a unique piece of writing from to you. No one else needs to see it, it could be our little secret. If you’re into that kind of thing…


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