Welcome to Witchy Season! It might still be hot out in Houston, and even on Galveston Island, but it’s officially fall. Today I bought some marigolds and delighted in the fact that, temperatures aside, magic is in the air, and my favorite time of year has commenced.
Why I Love Fall in Texas
I know that many of us living here in Texas romanticize autumn up north where the leaves turn colors and the air is already crisp. It might seem odd, but I much prefer fall in Texas. In fact, it is Texas that made me love this season in the first place. Living up north, the crisp air and turning leaves invariably made me sad. I kind of got the blues the way one occasionally does on a Sunday night, when the weekend has slipped away leaving behind an unexplained but palpable sense of dread (don’t even get me started on Sunday nights in the fall up north…). In Texas, though, fall signals the light at the end of the tunnel. That first hint of a breeze in the air marks the beginning of a long beautiful season of pleasant weather (which might involve the occasional flannel shirt or cardigan but probably doesn’t require closed toed shoes). Fall means oyster season, ghosts, glorious sunsets, and maybe occasionally the scent of smoke in one’s hair from sitting around a mostly unnecessary fire pit. Fall means we will be slipping slowly into a long and sunny winter, which on the Island will contain many foggy mornings, but few actually cold days. Winter here is a feeble and imprecise threat, one bound to require a Victorian costume for Dickens on the Strand rather than wool socks, a sensible coat, or goddess forbid, thermal underwear. You can get away with a light sweater and maybe throwing on a scarf while your occasionally cold toes poke defiantly out of flip flops. You might treat yourself to fur lined Birkenstocks. I think such a fashion abomination actually was created for us Texans, and I myself find it rather tempting. If cold air slips through the cracks of your old floorboards, you might scramble to find your one pair of fuzzy slippers and consider the adventure rather exotic. So bring on the ghosts, the ghouls, goblins, and especially the pumpkins and their accompanying spice. Fall down here does not scare me. It does not fill me with dread. In fact, I cannot wait for the magical day when it doesn’t feel like a waste of perfctly good air conditioning to bake an actual pie!
Witchy Art by Elena Sandovici
Obviously, since I love this season so much, it has been quite inspiring. Not only are there some new paintings in my studio celebrating the rich warm hues of fall and some of the ghost stories that go well with this season, but I found some old favorites as well and delighted in hanging them on the walls. Y’all remember when I created a ouija board piece so that my rocking horses could have a seance? Well, I still have that painting, and its gold accents shine. I also found an older but beloved marigold piece. I think these would look very good alongside my new painting of the two horses in Storms of Malhado on a room with dark walls. For extra magic and mystery you should obviously adopt a black cat.
Galveston Island as the Perfect Setting for Eerie Fall Books
Fall is definitely my favorite season to be on Galveston Island, and as our island is both stunningly gorgeous this time of year and very haunted, it makes me wonder why more readers looking for slightly eerie seasonal books haven’t yet caught on. I really feel that amoung the witchy literary locales, Galveston Island should take pride of place. Just scoot a little tighter on that love seat, Charleston and New Orleans, and make room for her please! Or maybe she could sit on the floor next to Salem? Can Tybee Island share her ottoman? Foggy London and mystery-shrouded Paris could learn to share as well. Galveston belongs on the shelf with the ghostly spooky dark and vibey books! I am committed to spreading the word far and wide, and I think I’ve been doing a good job recently, because Storms of Malhado, the best known of my Galveston novels, has just surpassed 10,000 sales. Here’s hoping more readers the world over discover the magic of our storm-swept sandbank where the veil between life and death is rumored to be thin. And the fog on winter mornings is just as alluring as in London, if not more so.
A Book Signing of Galveston Books on Galveston Island
And since I am committed to making Galveston a favorite place to read about for all my bookish witches, I decided to have a book signing at the Then & Now Bookshop on Postoffice Street on a Saturday in October (October 17th from 2-5pm to be more precise). This is a lovely time to be in Galveston, and especially on Postoffice Street, as not only are the sunsets glowing and the spirits waiting, but my favorite kinds of blackbirds, the common but indomitable grackles, flock to trees and power lines in staggering numbers and whistle their warnings of spells and hauntings and overall enchantment. If these descendants of dinosaurs don’t scare you away, please come see me at the bookshop and treat yourself to a signed copy or more of my Galveston novels!
My House Wants Me to Write About Ike
Speaking about spooky things, my little house, which is very old but definitely not haunted, decided to do some weird things these past few weeks. First, the fridge broke. It was a big double door fridge I had not chosen, the fridge that came with the house. Let it be known that I prefer simple white fridges with absolutely no frills, and that’s what I resolved to replace the dead double door monster with. Though obviously that involved inconvenience and waiting, and in the meantime I had much cause to discuss the old fridge with all and sundry. One of my friends asked if it was chrome in addition to having two doors. Well, yes. And the chrome was stupid as no magnets stuck to it. “That’s probably an Ike fridge,” my friend said. “Everyone had to replace their fridge after Ike and we all pretty much got the same fridge because that model was all the rage back then.” My ears perked up. Not only was I familiar with hurricane Ike and the devastation it caused on Galveston Island and beyond, but it is one of the storms I wrote about in my first Galveston novel. To think that my little house survived it, yet I know so little about how she fared!
Later, as I was waiting for the white simple magnet-attracting fridge of my dreams to be delivered, on the very anniversary of Hurricane Ike, my AC gave out. The coincidence was just too uncanny. I spent a night with the windows open like in the olden days (or right after Ike, when the Island lost power for weeks), and then my sweet little house treated me to one of the most surreal days of my life: the day the new fridge was delivered and the old one removed, while AC people were in the attic finding that the beast up there had died for good and needed to be replaced completely, ducts and all.
I now have a white fridge, clean shiny ducts, a new AC, and a clear understanding of what exactly my little house was trying to communicate. My house wants me to write a book about Hurricane Ike! I have already started imagining some of it, and I feel very inspired. It will be called The Ike House and take place in a cottage inspired by mine. I hope to be able to publish it by the 20th anniversary of Hurricane Ike in September 2028.
Maybe It’s Time for a Galveston Island Walking Tour?
Just saying! You can find out more here or message me for scheduling and more information!
This Raven Wishes You a Happy Fall
