H.A. Olsen's Blog, page 2

Who Dat Boo-Hag Is?

The lowcountry of South Carolina has no shortage of legends and ghost stories. But there is one legend that I am particularly fond of, so much so that I couldn’t resist bringing it up in my latest novel, Savannah Grace. It is the legend of the Boo-Hag.
Now if you’re squeamish, I suggest you stop reading right here. That’s because hearing about the Boo-Hag has been known to induce nightmares and cause people who are otherwise completely sane to place a jar of rice by their bedroom door. Why would they do such a thing? If you’re not squeamish, read on and I’ll fill you in.The Gullah folks that originally inhabited the sea islands of South Carolina were the first to spread the word about the Boo Hag. They described her as being a witch-like being that could fool even the best of us. That’s because she looks completely normal, even beautiful, in the daytime. But all that changes once the sun goes down.You see, the Boo-Hag has a little problem. She doesn’t have any skin. Yep, that’s right, she’s nothing but raw meat (maybe that’s how Lady GaGa got the idea to wear the meat outfit). As you can imagine, it’s not pleasant to be around someone who looks like a walking, talking version of a slab of prime rib. So in order to fit in with the rest of us, she has to find some skin to steal so she can disguise herself as a member of the human race. Skin stealing, from what I understand, can be a risky occupation. Most people don’t voluntarily give theirs up. So the Boo-Hag has to be cunning and do her stealing at night, when her victim is sound asleep.According to the Gullah folks, the Boo-Hag can make herself small enough to slide right underneath your door. Once inside your bedroom, things get downright nasty, because the Boo-Hag is now in a position to ride you. Those of you with dirty minds should be ashamed of yourselves. Boo-Hag riding has nothing to do with …. well, you know what. Instead, it has to do with her stealing your breath. And your all-important skin.Once she is certain that you’re fast asleep, the Boo-Hag will shed her false skin and leap on top of you so she can suck the breath from your lungs. Hopefully, you will remain unconscious through all this and wake up unharmed, although you will probably feel tired. But woe to you if you wake up while the Boo-Hag is riding you. If that happens, you will become her next skin donor and will find yourself left with a raw, flaxen body, just like hers.But there’s good news! The Boo-Hag is a very curious creature and can be easily distracted. So all you have to do to ward the Boo-Hag off is to place a jar of rice by you bedroom door. She will feel compelled to count every grain of rice, and since the Boo-Hag is terrible at math, she will get confused once she counts above ten and have to start all over again. This can take all night, which is exactly what you want to have happen, because the Boo-Hag must return to her skin before dawn and get home before all her ‘magical’ powers evaporate. And you will wake up refreshed and ready to face the day instead of feeling tired and possibly having to explain to all your friends and family members why you no longer have any skin. So take my advice and fill a jar with rice as soon as you can. That way, you can wear a confident smile next time someone says to you, “Don’t let the Boo-Hag ride ya!”If you’d like to read an entertaining story about the Boo-Hag, follow this link: http://themoonlitroad.com/the-boo-hag/Please don’t forget that you can subscribe to this blog by e-mail. Simply click on the button at the top of the page and you will you receive my ramblings in your inbox each week.Please re-tweet on Twitter and like’ on Facebook!See you next week!



 



  

Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Man, ab...

 Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Man, abenevolent ghost that is said to haunt the lowcountry of South Carolina andwarn the inhabitants of the sea islands about approaching hurricanes. Today Iwant to tell you about an experience that hit much closer to home for me; anexperience that still gives me goosebumps everytime I think about it.
Theyear was 1993 and my wife was pregnant with our third daughter. Like most expectantparents, we spent a great deal of time trying to decide on a name for or newaddition to the family. After giving it much thought, we came to the conclusionthat she would enter the world as Ashley Olsen.
Okay,think about it. The poor child would have gone through school with the same nameas a rising celebrity twin (we knew nothing of the Olsen twins at the time).Can you imagine the teasing she would have had to endure? Not only that, buteveryone said she looked just like thefamous Ashley Olsen in her early childhood, which would have only caused hermore grief.
Well,I guess my daughter wasn’t about to go through all that, so she decided to payme a prenatal visit. It began when I woke from a deep slumber and saw the mistyimage of a little girl who appeared to be about six years old standing at thefoot of the bed. I couldn’t move nor could I speak as she wagged her finger atme and let me know in no uncertain terms that her name was to be Shannon, notAshley. 
Icame out of the experience in a cold sweat, and when my wife asked me what waswrong, I told her I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but we better thinkseriously about naming our future child Shannon.
Mywife liked the name, and when our daughter made her grand entrance into the worldon July 15th 1993, her birth certificate announced her as ShannonElizabeth Olsen.
Here’sthe real kicker: when Shannon turned six years old, she was the spitting imageof the little girl I had seen at the foot of the bed (believe me, I remember everydetail of that experience). 
So,did I really see my daughter before she was born or was it some sort of dreamwarning me not to inflict countless days of teasing on my daughter by namingher Ashley Olsen? Think what you will, but I firmly believe it was the spiritof my daughter. And that’s what influenced me to write a similar scene in myfirst novel, A Lone Palm Stands. For those of you who have read the book, youknow what I’m referring to. For those of you who haven’t read it … well, what areyou waiting for? :)
Comingin next week’s blog: “Who dat Boo-Hag is?”
Don’t forget that you cansubscribe to this blog by email – just click on the link in the upperright-hand corner of the page and you’ll get my latest ramblings in your inbox.Have a great week!

Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Man, a ...

 Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Man, a benevolent ghost that is said to haunt the lowcountry of South Carolina and warn the inhabitants of the sea islands about approaching hurricanes. Today I want to tell you about an experience that hit much closer to home for me; an experience that still gives me goosebumps everytime I think about it.
The year was 1993 and my wife was pregnant with our third daughter. Like most expectant parents, we spent a great deal of time trying to decide on a name for or new addition to the family. After giving it much thought, we came to the conclusion that she would enter the world as Ashley Olsen.
Okay, think about it. The poor child would have gone through school with the same name as a rising celebrity twin (we knew nothing of the Olsen twins at the time). Can you imagine the teasing she would have had to endure? Not only that, but everyone said she looked just like the famous Ashley Olsen in her early childhood, which would have only caused her more grief.
Well, I guess my daughter wasn’t about to go through all that, so she decided to pay me a prenatal visit. It began when I woke from a deep slumber and saw the misty image of a little girl who appeared to be about six years old standing at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t move nor could I speak as she wagged her finger at me and let me know in no uncertain terms that her name was to be Shannon, not Ashley. 
I came out of the experience in a cold sweat, and when my wife asked me what was wrong, I told her I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but we better think seriously about naming our future child Shannon.
My wife liked the name, and when our daughter made her grand entrance into the world on July 15th 1993, her birth certificate announced her as Shannon Elizabeth Olsen.
Here’s the real kicker: when Shannon turned six years old, she was the spitting image of the little girl I had seen at the foot of the bed (believe me, I remember every detail of that experience). 
So, did I really see my daughter before she was born or was it some sort of dream warning me not to inflict countless days of teasing on my daughter by naming her Ashley Olsen? Think what you will, but I firmly believe it was the spirit of my daughter. And that’s what influenced me to write a similar scene in my first novel, A Lone Palm Stands. For those of you who have read the book, you know what I’m referring to. For those of you who haven’t read it … well, what are you waiting for? :)
Coming in next week’s blog: “Who dat Boo-Hag is?”
Don’t forget that you can subscribe to this blog by email – just click on the link in the upper right-hand corner of the page and you’ll get my latest ramblings in your inbox. Have a great week!

Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Ma...

 Last week I blogged about the legend of the Grey Man, a benevolent ghost that is said to haunt the lowcountry of South Carolina and warn the inhabitants of the sea islands about approaching hurricanes. Today I want to tell you about an experience that hit much closer to home for me; an experience that still gives me goosebumps everytime I think about it.
The year was 1993 and my wife was pregnant with our third daughter. Like most expectant parents, we spent a great deal of time trying to decide on a name for or new addition to the family. After giving it much thought, we came to the conclusion that she would enter the world as Ashley Olsen.
Okay, think about it. The poor child would have gone through school with the same name as a rising celebrity twin (we knew nothing of the Olsen twins at the time). Can you imagine the teasing she would have had to endure? Not only that, but everyone said she looked just like the famous Ashley Olsen in her early childhood, which would have only caused her more grief.
Well, I guess my daughter wasn’t about to go through all that, so she decided to pay me a prenatal visit. It began when I woke from a deep slumber and saw the misty image of a little girl who appeared to be about six years old standing at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t move nor could I speak as she wagged her finger at me and let me know in no uncertain terms that her name was to be Shannon, not Ashley. 
I came out of the experience in a cold sweat, and when my wife asked me what was wrong, I told her I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but we better think seriously about naming our future child Shannon.
My wife liked the name, and when our daughter made her grand entrance into the world on July 15th 1993, her birth certificate announced her as Shannon Elizabeth Olsen.
Here’s the real kicker: when Shannon turned six years old, she was the spitting image of the little girl I had seen at the foot of the bed (believe me, I remember every detail of that experience). 
So, did I really see my daughter before she was born or was it some sort of dream warning me not to inflict countless days of teasing on my daughter by naming her Ashley Olsen? Think what you will, but I firmly believe it was the spirit of my daughter. And that’s what influenced me to write a similar scene in my first novel, A Lone Palm Stands. For those of you who have read the book, you know what I’m referring to. For those of you who haven’t read it … well, what are you waiting for? :)
Coming in next week’s blog: “Who dat Boo-Hag is?”
Don’t forget that you can subscribe to this blog by email – just click on the link in the upper right-hand corner of the page and you’ll get my latest ramblings in your inbox. Have a great week!