How to Write Live like a Goblin on Memories and Ghosts

Another Monday another post by my resident Goblin. This time he narrates live about ghosts and writers.


“…feed me goblin, so many ghosts and so few posts…”, “…but slot, what if many of those ghosts and still alive…”, “…well just post their live ghosts then goblin, that’s what the present becomes anyway, besides you promised the muse and had better do it before you become a ghost too…”, “…ok alright slot, I remember it’s “honesty, a shared life and thick skin” but I never thought this muse pact thingy would be so weird to live through, I mean they’re everywhere and anytime…”, “…goblin, people have their memories but writers have their ghosts, that’s all, and those ghosts own you until you dispel them and that is all it is, isn’t it…” and with that the hungry slot and the haunted goblin just looked at each other as the ghosts closed in for the post


It’s Just the Normal Noises in Here by Martin Crosbie

Today best-selling author Martin Crosbie is the guest blogger and he starts with a question, but then explains. I suggest you read it and look up the answer to his question.


The first reader who can tell me where the above semi-well-known phrase is from will receive their choice of one of my e-books.

I live with noises and voices in my head all the time. And, if you’re a writer you probably do too. It’s part of the deal. I’m currently writing two books at the same time. I’ve tried to do this previously and one has always fallen by the wayside. This time it seems to be working though. When I get stuck with the story in one book I switch to the other. One story is a light, romantic tale that takes place on a tropical island and there’s lots of laughter and occasional frolicking. The other is darker. It’s the third book in a trilogy so it has to honor its predecessors by maintaining the personalities of the characters who have been carried over into the final book. And it gets really confusing. I wrote the first book three years ago and the majority of the characters that I’m bringing back weren’t in book two so I need to get to know them again. And, sometimes I can only take so much. When that happens I switch to my light, romantic tale on Valentine Island and spend some time with the characters that don’t require quite as much of my attention.

I heard a very successful author say one time that he lit some candles and invited his characters into the room each time he began writing. I’ve never needed the candles. They’re there, almost all the time. Driving is bad. Even if there’s someone else in the vehicle I can still think about my story and what’s currently happening in it and what’s going to potentially happen next. I can be smiling and listening to a conversation but I’m not really there. I’m on the tropical island or dealing with complex relationship issues or trying to figure out if I’m really going to put a ghost in the house. I’ve even had someone share an anecdote with me and I’ve caught myself just as I was about to relate a similar incident that happened to Malcolm or Heather or Stephen from one of my novels. It’s been very close a couple of times.

And, if I’m on my own it’s even worse. From time to time my mouth will move as I talk my way through part of my plot and occasionally I’ll even smile in satisfaction when I manage to pull some loose ends together. That’s me congratulating myself. I remember as a teenager sitting with my buddies in a fast food restaurant and watching in amazement as a man spoke to his own reflection in the glass windows. Now I know why. He was a writer.

Today, I do those same things and I’ve developed a way of dealing with anyone who notices. I’m sure karma has a group of rambunctious teenage boys lurking somewhere in my future, waiting to mock me. And, I know there have been drivers in cars beside me wondering why I’m muttering. Well, I deal with it this way. I don’t care. I don’t respond or acknowledge. I keep working out my story in my head, mumbling and muttering as needed. I’ve always enjoyed being a little bit different, and being a writer has allowed me to adopt eccentricities that most people would find strange or weird. So go ahead, stare all you want. I’m a writer and I don’t care. It’s just the normal noises in here.

So, how about your noises?

How To Live Write Like A Goblin On The Muse

This time a post by the Goblin on a topic us authors all know about, but not all of us have one. Flea has and I like her.


“…do you think I talk to myself slot…”, “…no goblin you’ve got the muse and me to talk to, but mind you what with innerman lamenting the superficiality of outerman, and outerman craving “this, that, and the next thing”, the wonder is not if you do actually talk to yourself, it’s more how you can ever get a word in edgeways…”, “…hello you two…” said the muse who popped in from the back room “..I heard that, is that you goblin worrying about whether you talk to yourself then…”, “…um, well I, um…””…yep, he sure is, muse…”, the slot had noticed the goblin was seated looking down at his shoes woefully, the muse put her hands down on his shoulders from behind him “…there there goblin I am sure you’re not talking to yourself, any schizophrenic will tell you that much…”, the man in the mirror found the whole image rather appealing as the goblin lifted his hand to his shoulder placing it on hers saying “…thanks muse but…, …”, “…goblin…” she moved around the chair to look at him clearly, then, placing a lone finger on his lips as only a woman could do, spoke softly “…anyone can post but only mad people make interesting posters, leave sanity for shallow people, we’re different…”, “…that’s better Your Madnessty…” joked the slot as the goblin then started typing his hapless posts once more