Saturday, July 07, 2007


I really should hang a sign on my front door. One that says BEWARE OF THE WRITER in big black and red letters, similar to those you see on privacy fences, warning of the beastly, four-legged terror living behind its walls.

Because, you see, my mind is sometimes a very dangerous place.

For instance...when I'm in the shower, home alone while Hubby is working out of town, and I hear the doorbell ring, I don't automatically think "Oh, Fed-Ex is here!" or "Hmmm, maybe Mom forgot her key" or even "Must be the grandparents stopping by like they do sometimes on the weekends."

Nope. I go straight to a death grip on the shower curtain and a racing heart. "What if its some strange man who saw the For Sale By Owner sign in the yard and has been staking out the house and knows I'm here alone and wants to pretend to be interested in buying my home just so he can come inside and -"

Visions of me answering the door with a towel and my 9mm filled my mind.

After the doorbell rang multiple times, complete with knocking, I finally grabbed my towel and, dripping through the house, peered through the front blinds. (subtly, of course!) No one was there. No cars. No packages on the front walkway or on the bench.


Grabbing my cell phone, I head back to the shower, and immediately wondered why my black lab never barked while someone had been at the door.

More visions, not so pleasant this time.

Out of the shower again, to peer through the back blinds. Yep, Sammy's fine.

Back in the shower again.

Do you know how hard it is to wash your hair while keeping the curtain peeled back with one hand to keep an eye on the locked bathroom door?

Then, like the paranoid, writer-dork I am, I realized it was probably just my father's real-estate friend who told me this weekend he'd bring by the forms we needed for the sale of our house. He had said he'd leave it in the mailbox if he came by and we weren't home.

DUH! Laughing, I finish my shower, paranoia-free, and after getting dressed, I checked the mailbox to retrieve the form.

But the mailbox was empty.

I can assure you that you've never seen a door slam and lock as quickly as mine did.

So come on, all you authors out there. Confess! When was the last time your writer's mind got the best of you? Or all you fellow readers...tell me your paranoid stories! =)

While I load my gun.... j/k.


Erica Vetsch said...

I go all writerish when I walk through a museum. Every story, every artifact, every photo is a potential novel.

I read about the shipwreck of the Mataafa in November of 1905 on Lake Superior and a three book series bloomed in my head.

The family thinks it is weird, but they play along.

Georgiana D said...

Um, without revealing too much on a public forum...this weekend, with a mailbox incident, and a list of suspects. Except mine wasn't just being paranoid. LOL?

Lori said...

LOL! I can just see you slamming that door!

My writer's paranoia doesn't usually get the best of me but my sense of humor does. I'll accidentally laugh out loud at something nobody else finds funny. Example: the extra parking lot at the dental school I go to is called Area 95, and it's at least a half mile away from the school. It's like the sign underneath should read "May cause deformities, cancer, and the growth of extra limbs. Park at your own risk." So I'm looking at the sign laughing my head off, and people are staring at me like, "Whaaa??"

Sally Bradley said...

Too many stories to tell! But yes, every little thing that happens has my mind immediately going to a worst-case scenario.

Just yesterday, I couldn't find my little girl after church and was sure she'd been kidnapped. She hadn't. She was on the ground between one of the pews, playing with a friend.