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About Sara Clancy
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Blog postAre you warm right now?
Are you in a place of comfort reading this?
I hope you are.
We’re coming to the end, you know, and it’s stopping in a place you and I are both familiar with.
At 125 Berkley Street.
You and I, we’ve opened our arms to Shane. Welcomed him back with a smile and a handshake, asked after Carl and Eloise, inquired as to how Jacinta is getting along.
He’s returned the smile, shaken out a cigarette, and lit it as we sat down on t -
Blog postIt’s the hidden things that have always scared me the most.
When I was little, my family took me to a wildlife park. I’m Australian; so that naturally involved enduring unbearable heat to look at snakes and spiders.
We passed this pond, its waters calm and glistening, and I instantly decided that I wanted to go for a swim. I would have climbed the gate if my parents hadn’t been so observant.
That was when I spotted the strange man with a milk crate tied to the end of a -
Blog postAll the lights in my office are on.
This is the place where I sit and think, drink coffee by the gallon, and let my own dark thoughts spill out onto my writing.
Tonight, it’s also where I sat down to read this new collection of short stories.
I live in New England, in a small, old house, in a small, old town. The house creaks and groans, whispers its aged secrets, and fills my office with an air of the macabre.
Rarely do I sit down here to read. I usually sit i -
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Blog postI have been mightily stressed as of late, and so I thought, maybe what I needed was a little bit of terror to soothe my soul.
Perhaps a little bit would have been fine.
Perhaps—just perhaps—a little bit would have calmed me.
But I didn’t get that. Not with this collection of shorts.
No. Not at all.
Instead, I received a near-lethal dose of the stuff, and it turns out that it was exactly what the doctor ordered. (Though I’m not sure what sort of doctor w -
Blog postWhat’s so terrifying about the dangers of this world is how close they can get to us without us even realizing it.
When I was a small child, I lived on a cul-de-sac with a little park at its end. Between my outgoing and wonderful family and my adorableness, we were on good terms with all of our neighbors. It was a picturesque little place. It was safe.
One day, I went to the park, sat on a swing, and waited for a playmate to show up. I was disappointed when only two teenage bo -
Blog postHow are you holding up?
Are you worried about Shane, or are you confident that he’s going to make it through unscathed?
This is what’s keeping me up at night, what’s making me fret as I sit and write this letter to you.
Oh, I’m not worried about Shane dying. He’s far too stubborn for that.
Shane’s the type of person who’ll meet Death head-on, a Lucky Strike in his mouth and defiance in his eyes.
You know this as well as I do.
But you see, I’ve b -
Blog postFear is exhausting.
I’m sitting in my chair, mentally drained from this Night Terrors collection.
I know I skipped ahead again, and I should have waited.
I think we’ve established that I don’t like to wait.
Although, in hindsight, I should have. I won’t be sleeping well tonight.
There are too many monsters in this volume. Too many beasts, human and inhuman, eagerly waiting for me to go to bed.
I may not go to bed. I might sleep in my chair for a -
Blog postWell, here we are again on the haunted island of Sainte Isabel, in lockdown and in trouble.
At the end of the previous book, Sara struggled free of the spirit of Catherine Le Foix and Victor Lemaitre, the Devil Ship captain, had to postpone his plans to massacre everyone.
However, a few months have passed and things are getting ominous again.
Strange things—unpleasant things— are happening at sea. Sara and her pal Keri both feel they are being watched by someone, or so -
Blog postRight now, the sun shines in the sky, and the birds sing as they settle down to eat at the feeders. It is a day, a morning, where we should be able to settle in and enjoy the sunlight.
I’m not certain about you, but I can say, with complete authority, that I will not be doing so.
It’s my own fault, really, why I’m not enjoying this day.
How can I?
I made the foolish decision to read ‘just one or two stories’ of the new Night Terrors book in bed last night.
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Blog postKillers don’t stick out in a crowd, good intentions don’t quell the bad intentions of others, and even the best-laid plans can’t account for every eventuality.
For me, there’s nothing more unsettling than being forced to recognize exactly how vulnerable I am.
Perhaps it’s because these little reminders seem to pop out of nowhere?
A random noise in a quiet house…
Spotting a stranger out of the corner of my eye as I start down an alley…
Parking alongside
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