The Cryman

While The Ship Looking for God is marinading, I busted out another first draft that I hadn’t played with in a while called The Cryman. Apparently, it was QUITE a while because I was surprised to find that I had actually finished the story. I don’t remember doing that. See what happens when you get older?

The Cryman is a local monster in LA (lower Alabama). Think of it as the Jersey Devil of the very regional South. It’s somewhat akin to Bigfoot, except it stalks and eats children, and lurks in the Cryman Hole, which is a series of gulches carved into the swamps around Goodman, Alabama. I heard about it when I was living in LA during the middle to late 60’s. A farmer’s wife warned us kids about it, I suspect to keep us from wandering the gulches. Like that worked. It just made our adventures down there all the more tingly.

The Cryman is probably the closest I will ever come to writing YA. I don’t write YA; I’m not good enough. But, the story kept drifting that way so, let it have its head and hang on for the ride. And it is quite the ride.

Because, frankly, this is the scariest thing I’ve ever written. Just downright terrifying. I’ve always considered The Moonlight in Genevieve’s Eyes as the scariest thing I’ve ever written, but this beats it all to hell. Which presents a bit of a dilemma: if it’s that scary, how can it be YA?

Dunno. But it is.

So what am I gonna do with it? Keep revising until it’s done, then publish it.

Then you can judge.

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