KAY LALONE IS VISITING TODAY

It is my pleasure to host Author Kay LaLone today. She's talking about a topic that fascinates me: Dreams. I don't dream, at least I don't remember them if I do. So I'm interested in Kay's thoughts about dreams. Welcome, Kay. Tell us about yourself.

Thank you, Beverly, for letting me guest blog on your blog today. I want to talk about dreams

I’m Kay LaLone author of Ghostly Clues. I live in Michigan with my husband and fourteen year old son (two older sons live near by) and two dogs and a cat. I refer to my pets as my boys because they are my babies since they don’t grow up like my sons do. I love to get up in the morning and write. My favorite things to write about are ghosts and supernatural creatures. I’m an avid reader and do reviews on the books I read.

What are dreams? Dreams are successions of images, ideas emotions, and sensations that occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Sometimes I wish I could control those images and be able to live out my stories in my dreams. But dreams are uncontrollable.

Many of my story ideas have come from my dreams like Mysterious Visions, which I’m currently revising. So I try to keep a notebook on my nightstand for those nighttime inspirations.

Dreams can have varying natures, such as frightening, exciting, magical, and adventurous. So why not use dream scenes in your stories? To me dreams aren’t only a good way to come up with story ideas, but I have noticed in most of my stories, I show my character’s dreams. We all dream so why not our characters. I use it as a way to show how my characters are feeling, what they remember about there past like in Ghostly Clues. Sarah Kay has dreams about her father. But could those dreams really be memories that Sarah Kay has hidden away in her mind? Sometime my character’s dreams can predict the future like in Family Secret, a book I just finished. Or maybe a dream would be a good way for a spirit to communicate with a person.

Just like ghosts and spirits, dreams have always fascinated me. It’s a way our minds work out problems. Sometimes dreams are like a book which takes us to another world, another place, and takes us on an adventure. Sometimes we wake up wishing we could remember that good dream we just had, but instead we are only left with a distant memory that we had just visited a world all our own. Then there are those dreams I can’t wait to write down and transform them into a story that will draw the reader into my character’s world, and maybe into their dreams.

About Ghostly Clues

The sweet scent of lilacs permeates the air around Grandma’s gravesite. Only Sarah Kay can smell Grandma’s favorite flower, and they’re not even in bloom.

Sarah Kay and her best friend, Mary Jane, believe the lilacs are a sign from Grandma’s ghost. The girls follow one ghostly clue after another, uncovering a secret that Mom never wanted Sarah Kay to know.

Grandma makes sure Sarah Kay gets the message even from the grave. As the evidence piles up, Mom still refuses to accept the possibility Sarah Kay’s father is alive.

Sarah Kay finds Dad’s parents. A set of grandparents she didn’t realize existed. They make it clear her father is alive but days and miles separate the father and daughter reunion because Dad is a truck driver on a long haul.

Sarah Kay waits. The news reports a fatal car accident involving a semi and Sarah Kay fears the worse. She runs away which leads to Dad and the truth, Mom wanted Dad to remain dead.

Dad had faked his death so why not just stay dead. The ghostly clues of Grandma wouldn’t allow Dad to remain dead to Sarah Kay.

Oooh! Don't you just love this spooky cover.

 

 

Excerpt from Ghostly Clues

 

The house was blanketed in a quiet slumber. I snuggled under the sleeping bag with Allison, trying not to think about ghosts, as I drifted to sleep.

 

Random pictures floated in my mind like ghostly images.

 

I tiptoed among tombstones and my heart ached as if I had lost something or someone. He had to be here, somewhere. The gravestones rose like stone walls. No names engraved on them. No dates. No R.I.P. Nothing. Just smooth, flat stones. Ghosts—grayish, smoky forms with black eyes—floated over the tombstones. I shivered, suddenly cold, freezing. My breath visible like a little ghost. I didn’t want to look at the ghost anymore so I looked down at my feet. A tombstone with Grandma’s name appeared out of nowhere. The earth moved. The dirt around the headstone broke away and gnarled fingers clawed their way into the air, searching, grasping. Shriveled fingers clutched my leg.

Something grabbed at my leg—the hand, I screamed and frantically wiggled out of my sleeping bag, bumping MJ as I tried to get away from the hand I thought I felt grab at my leg.

Another Excerpt from Ghostly Clues showing her dream might be a memory

 

Anger toward Mom ripped through me because it was hard to understand why Mom didn’t want to talk about my dad. Was he that bad of a man? It seemed like Gramps didn’t like him. But Mom…I thought she loved him. I snuggled deep under the covers and closed my eyes and soon drifted to sleep.

 

Leaves of red, orange, and yellow swirled around me as I clutched my rag doll. Swirling faster, the colors blended together.

"Help," I cried. Leaves clung to my curly red hair.

Through a wall of leaves, a big, rough hand reached in and pulled me out. The hand belonged to a tall man with short red hair.

"Daddy, thank you!" I said, staring into his green eyes.

Daddy smiled down at me, then turned away.

"Daddy, where are you going?" I asked.

He turned around and knelt down on one knee to look me in the eyes. His eyes seemed to dance like fireflies on top of a pond .

"Sarah, I would never leave you," Daddy said.

He grabbed me up in his arms. "You’re my sweet, redheaded little doll."

We danced under the starlit sky with the leaves crunching and swaying under our feet.

 

I woke up with a warm fuzzy feeling and tried to curl back into my blankets to continue my dream about Dad, but my mind raced with questions. Did I have a father out there? Was he alive? If so, why hadn’t he made contact with me? Restlessness overtook my fuzzy feeling and even though it was only five in the morning, I stepped down the stairs to the kitchen to get something to drink.

 

Links

http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=527&category_id=144&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1

www.kaylalone.weebly.com

www.kaylalone.blogspot.com

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book can be found on Amazon, goodreads, and smashwords.