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Entries in Spider Gates (1)


A dispatch from Sleepy Hollow

You know it's Halloween when the maid knocking on your hotel room door is wearing a Catwoman costume. At least I hope it's Halloween...and I'm praying she's a maid. Otherwise I seriously checked into the wrong hotel.

I'm currently in a part of Massachusetts that I can only describe as a real-life Sleepy Hollow. The creeping trees, the falling leaves, the darkened forests--it's a feast for a ripe, scared-of-monsters-under-the-bed kind of imagination. And as if that wasn't enough, after yesterday's book gig at the Bancroft School I went on a little ghost-hunting adventure in search of the the Old Quaker Cemetery, known as the Spider Gates Cemetery.

The Spider Gates are located in a forest on a closed, unmarked road. It's the stuff of teenage horror films. And eerily, if you turn over the fieldstones near this cemetery you'll find ancient runes. Oh, and this place is also known as the 8th Gate to Hell, but that can't be true because I've already been to Newark.

Now I'm off to Connecticut for tomorrow's final WILLOW FROST TOUR event. And to spend time with an old friend named Ragnar. Yes, I have friend named Ragnar. (His dad named him after the Kirk Douglas character in the movie, The Vikings). And the tour never really ends. I have one more gig in Seattle in about a week. Then Italy. And then there's balmy Norway in January.

See, the story never ends. Happy Halloween. Watch out for those flying monkeys.