When I was a child, I believed in fairies. Beyond the borders of our carefully maintained lawn, in the shoulder-high weeds that separated our New Jersey half acre from the neighbors, I thought shy wee folk cavorted in the Queen Anne's lace.As I grew older, my level of belief declined. My love of the stories, the lore of the paranormal in all its forms, however, grew.
I don't think I've ever achieved that level of total belief in the unknown again. I'm not a complete skeptic, but I'm more cynical than I was back then, more questioning, less accepting at first glance. I'm probably not the only adult who feels this way.
Writing paranormal fiction hasn't changed how uncommitted I feel to either side of the "existence of paranormal" debate. If anything, resources such as The Skeptical Inquirer have not only given me inspiration when it comes to my fiction, but have made me question more.
I guess I'm more of a Skully than a Mulder, though I do believe there is more out there than we can see.
One thing writing has made me believe in is the power of the imagination. With our imaginations, we can be anything, do anything, go anywhere.
In ghostly spirits,
JK Mahal
Photo by .Catherine.
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