Home of Anna Wess, Writer & Ghost Chaser
There are worse things than death. But still we fight it tooth and coffin nail, no matter how much pain or sickness has eaten away at our very bones. We fight that inevitable sleep, like new babies not wanting to miss the next taste of sweet milk or bright flicker of light. We fight to … Continue reading O, Death: Mysteries of the Long Sleep
Some of us were born with a sense of destiny, I believe, an innate knowing that we were meant for more than this, that something out there in the wild yonder awaits us and knows our names. I also perceive that there are a few jagged stones placed in our paths by the monsters out … Continue reading Monsters Don’t Only Come Out at Night
They don’t expect much out of us Tazewell County girls. We were ruined from the start, thanks to geography and circumstances beyond Mama and Daddy’s control. I reckon they did the best they could with what they had. They didn’t expect much out of Mama or her Mama neither. Or Daddy, for that matter. Not … Continue reading Old Girls Like Us
Some folks will tell you that nothing lasts forever. They’ll remind you, without knowing for certain themselves, that everything that is will soon enough be what was. That dead men tell no tales, and ashes to ashes, and all those other warnings of ends. Those folks cannot see beyond the darkness of their finite assumptions. … Continue reading This House Has a Soul
I’ve long suspected that the lot of us go looking for folks as bad or worse off than we are. We seek out the imperfect and the flawed, the wild and the mad. They make us feel more free somehow, maybe even more significant, and just maybe, more alive. We’d rather ride the dark horse … Continue reading Tales From the Mountain: Beyond the Granny Witches
Well, I’ll just tell you. I believe way down in my insides that whatever we go looking for, we will find. And it was about this same time of year, never mind which year exactly, it just so happened that the veil between now and what was opened just enough to let us get a … Continue reading Memoirs of a Ghost Chaser
We are a peculiar breed. Our roots grow deeper than the cedars, and yet we don’t know precisely where or who it is that we grew from. We are a mystery as old as these hills themselves, and it doesn’t take much figuring to know that we are enigmas of intentional design and destiny. God … Continue reading The Last of the Granny Witches
