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Author Blog

Graveyard of the Atlantic: A Ghostly Encounter

Emily Henson

It’s October. The season for ghost stories. I want to be careful and remain respectful as I tell you about my family’s recent encounter. With any topic concerning what “lays beyond” I believe one should use tread lightly. First, if whatever is haunting an area is truly a lost soul, they deserve certain considerations. The first step in any encounter is to pray for the happy repose of the soul who may not be able to be at rest until they receive intercessory prayer on their behalf. If, on the other hand, the haunting is of an evil origin, i.e. – a demonic spirit, the laity must use extreme caution as the demon’s sole purpose would be the ultimate destruction of human souls. A priest of the Roman Catholic Church would provide the best guidance in those situations.

On a recent trip out to Hatteras Island in North Carolina, my family and I met up with dear friends at a beach house we had rented for a week. Hatteras Island is at North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Due to the thousands of shipwrecks and the unknown number of human lives lost in the area, the Outer Banks are referred to as The Graveyard of the Atlantic. The shallow sand banks along the coast are hard to see on a brilliant day. Add dark and formidable weather without high tech navigation systems and you have a recipe for disaster. Near our beach house, for instance, lay the graves of a young couple. Captain Stephen Barnett and his wife Rebecca who, along with their baby boy, lost their lives when Captain Barnett’s schooner ran aground off of Ocracoke Island. It is a tragic story you can find here: https://www.ncgenweb.us/dare/cemeteries/index_barnettstephend.html

Several days into our trip, a squall hit the island as night closed in. The wind slammed against the outside walls and thunder boomed on both sides of the island. Being around 30 miles from the coast of North Carolina, storms feel ominous on an island. After talking late into the night with my friend, I finally headed to bed. Before settling in, I went down to the lowest level of the house to make sure the door was locked. As I turned from the door, I felt a presence very near to me. Deciding I was being silly and chalking up the prickling of my skin to the billowing storm outside, I rushed up the couple flights of stairs to my bedroom.

Thunder continued to crash and the wind roared throughout the night.

The next morning dawned crystal clear. The island appeared freshly bathed and brighter after the torrential shower. Our family was the first awake. We headed to the topmost story of the house to make breakfast. My nine-year-old son greeted me with a hug and asked why I had been in his room the night before. The conversation went like this:

“Do you mean when I checked on you before I went to bed?”

“Never mind,” he responded, too sleepy to want to explain.

“No, I want to hear about it,” I encouraged. My skin was prickling again. “I gave you and your sisters a quick kiss and headed out of your room before going to my room. Is that what you mean?”

“You were standing by our door. Why were you standing there?”

My stomach felt suddenly heavy. I remembered the presence I had sensed in the downstairs entryway the night before and now my son had seen a form in his room. I kept my face blank and remained outwardly calm. I needed coffee before I could process what my son was asking me.

Mistaking my lack of response for disinterest, my son grew bored of the conversation. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head and running off to play.

After we had eaten our breakfast and our friends were up and about, the two husbands took off with the children to explore the island’s shoals. My friend and I stayed at the house.

My friend asked, “Was anyone up last night during the storm?”

I froze. “What?”

“We saw someone at our door. I thought it was a child scared during the storm. When we called out, they didn’t come in. We got up to check but no one was there. Our kids said they stayed in bed.”

All I could do was stare. She had not heard my conversation with my son. Now two people had seen a presence. I told her I’d check with my children to see if they’d been up during the storm.

When I asked my children later, none of them had left their beds.

Later, I approached my son again. “Can you tell me what the shadow looked like that you saw by your door last night?”

“Tall, short hair, very straight shoulders.”

His oldest sister chimed in, “That doesn’t sound like a description of Mommy. Why did you think it was Mommy?”

Suddenly, I remembered all the shipwrecks that had occurred just off shore. Hesitantly, I asked, “Did the form look like what you’d expect a soldier or a sea captain to be like? The way it was standing so straight?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Looking nervous, my daughter broke in again, “Why, Mommy?”

I had one more question to ask my son, “Did you feel like the presence was nice and kind of watching over you during the storm or did you feel scared?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he responded with a shrug. “I think it was like someone was protecting me.”

When my husband and I discussed what my friend and our son had witnessed in the night, my husband reflected that there were gravestones speckled throughout the surrounding yards around the house. He wondered if the house had been built on a graveyard. A quick internet search showed us that, sure enough, the house may have been built on the site of the Zora Gaskins graveyard.

It seemed clear to me that whatever soul was seen during the storm could have been someone who died during a shipwreck, potentially during a storm, and meant no harm. As a Catholic, I believe that some souls are in need of intercessory prayer in order to be at rest. After explaining to our children what we might have experienced in the night and reminding them about the importance of praying for Holy Souls, we traveled to the local Catholic Church and obtained a bottle of holy water. Returning to the house, we offered prayers for the Holy Souls not only in the area but for all those who met their demise in the Graveyard of the Atlantic. We sprinkled holy water in each bedroom and at every threshold.

Even though we had a couple more stormy nights, we did not experience any more ghostly encounters. I pray our friendly ship captain is now at peace.

*One more note of caution: Do NOT seek encounters with spirits. Often, demons will pretend to be those that have gone beyond in order to trick us. The hatred demons have for humans is very real and they will do anything to lead our souls astray. If you do experience an encounter, immediately pray something like the following and if the encounter does not cease, it’s time to call in a Catholic priest.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Author Blog

Writer’s Block: My Ways to Beat It!

Emily Henson

Defeating Writer’s Block in 3 Easy Steps

The dreaded Writer’s Block. It’s like you’ve embarked on a journey and as the train slowly rounds a bend, just before the view opens to reveal a breathtaking vista, the train grinds to a halt. Or, it is as if you’re in the middle of the adventure, right in the thick of it. You are walking up decaying stairs toward a dimly lit room, your heart pounding, thoughts racing about what might come next. But, when you reach the threshold, the door slams in your face. You don’t just hear the click of the door’s lock, you also hear a heavy deadbolt thud, a chain lock catch, and, just to make the impediment extra impregnable, you hear one of those tiny slide locks grate into place. You’re barred from any more progress.

When a Writer’s Block hits, I sometimes imagine my characters just sitting or standing in the scene where I left them – tapping their foot or picking at a hangnail until I get my act together and start writing again. They even grumble between each other about my ineptitude. Unfortunately, they find themselves doing this quite a bit at times.

[In the movie “The Man Who Invented Christmas”, Dan Stevens, who plays Dickens, aptly portrays a tortured writer in the throws of a crushing Writer’s Block. In the movie, Dickens’ characters even follow him around, giving him writing advice.]

Over the years, I’ve found some great ways to crush Writer’s Block when it rears its ugly head. I hope you’ll find these tips useful too!

Before Writer’s Block even hits, try this! Don’t write too long every day (If you’re up against a due date, this doesn’t apply.). Set a timer for a reasonable amount of time – enough to make progress but not so much that you run out of ideas or you stop working as sharply. When the time is up – STOP. Yes. Stop. That way, you’ll have more to write the next day when your mind is fresh. Obviously you can finish your sentence before turning off your computer or jot a quick idea down that you don’t want to forget. When I’m at a particularly challenging part in my books, this tactic has helped avoid Writer’s Block.

When Writer’s Block strikes, try these ideas:

  1. Go for a walk! It’s hard to leave your writing space but force yourself to get up and walk away. Preferably go out in nature, breathe, clear your mind. This idea to walk away from a problem seems counter to what we’re told to do, you know – “Face your problems” and all that. The problem of Writer’s Block, however, is different. Sometimes, you have to get out of your head. When you’re walking, you’d be surprised what might trigger a moment of genius, so bring a pad of paper!
  2. Act it out. When dialogue is the issue, often acting out how your characters would converse can break the block. If you’re up for it and can get past cringing, you can even film yourself acting out the dialogue and watch it back. Then, as the critic, you’ll catch things you wouldn’t have or have fresh ideas.
  3. Phone a friend. This can be anyone willing to be your sounding board. A fellow writer may have expert advice from their own playbook or your sister may have priceless life experiences from which she can pull. Be sure to put your ego aside and just listen.

Writer’s Block can be challenging. There are so many ideas floating around on the internet about how to break the block. These were three that work for me. A couple I haven’t tried are:

  1. Put a pin in it. Put an asterisk or a note to “come back” where you are experiencing Writer’s Block in your manuscript and then move onto the next scene. I may have to use this one day but I think it would be hard for me to fill in holes later. I don’t think I could move on but it’s a trick I’ll keep up my sleeve. You never know.
  2. Disable the internet. Many writers think they’re experiencing Writer’s Block when what they’re actually dealing with may be distraction. I don’t easily fall down the rabbit hole of internet searches, but if you do, set a time to “research” for your writing and a time to just write. When it is time to write, disable your Wi-Fi.

Writer’s Block is an unfortunate reality for writers but there are ways to beat it. Try one of the above ideas or search online for other ideas and then – get writing again!

Author Blog

Writer’s Desk – Why mine doesn’t always exist.

Emily Henson
photo credit: @our.sweet.retreat

If you have a hobby of any kind, it is common to have a “space” for your craft. If you love wood working or giving new life to antique furniture through DYI refurbishment, you probably find yourself in the garage or outdoors. If you are a painter, you likely have a place for your paints, brushes, canvas, etc. For writers, it has become a trend to take a photo of our desk and post that on social media. I LOVE looking at these photos. The creative spaces are gorgeous eye candy! I don’t have such a space.

I’ve dreamed of having that – The writer’s desk. I’ve gotten things pretty well laid out a time or two (proof below):

If I could have my ideal space, I’d have a fairly simple desk in front of a window overlooking a pretty corner of nature. This way I could glance up every now and then from my writing and refocus myself. On my desk, mementoes would sit, tastefully displayed, that remind me of a loved one or perhaps spark my creative genius. The delicious aroma of coffee would permeate the air from the attractive mug sojourning nearby. While I would keep an elegant notebook at hand and a small army of freshly sharpened pencils, the majority of my writing would be done on a laptop.

In reality, however, I write where I can. I’m a mom, I work at a school full time, and … I’m tired. These days, my writing regimen tends to include: couch, pajamas, and my favorite beverage of the moment.

To my surprise, the first few pages of an old sewing machine instruction booklet started, not with how to operate the machine, but instead instructed the user that her appearance and house be immaculate before she even starts sewing. Can you imagine? Before you thread that needle, ladies, don’t forget your heels!

To a certain extent, I agree that a clean house or a tidy space helps you feel composed and at peace before launching on a project. There is also something to be said for having your basic duties met before allowing yourself the pleasure of sitting down to your hobby. But, in full honesty, I’d never get to write if it meant I first needed to have a perfect house and immaculate appearance.

I think, in order to be our best selves, we must find moments to fit in our hobbies. This may or may not include the perfect work space. That is something you can set as a future goal, but it isn’t integral to being creative. Maybe your hobby area doesn’t look like curated selections from a Pinterest wall or the Instagram page of that social media influencer you follow. Don’t let that keep you from honing your talents! Studies show that when we make time for our artistic outlets, our mental health improves. When I feel good, I tend to handle life’s challenges with more grace than otherwise. If I get to spend five minutes writing, I grumble less about that laundry basket full of clean clothes I need to fold. You can look at taking time to be creative as an investment in your health – like the sugar which makes the bitter medicine of life’s responsibilities go down easier.

Find your comfort zone, be grateful for the opportunity, and lean in to your hobby.