Human remains in the Red Terror museum of Ethiopia

Nothing in fictional books or movies will ever match the real-life horror of what humans do to each other. The Red Terror Memorial Museum, in Addis Ababa, depicts the brutality inflicted on Ethiopia's population by the Derg military regime.
A side room of the museum contains actual human remains.
These are just a few of the hundreds of unclaimed bones and skulls that were exhumed from mass graves. May all victims of human cruelty and brutality find peace and rest.

Pennywise in Guadalajara

Sometimes you're walking down the streets of Guadalajara, minding your own business... When you run into Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Sneak peek from the "Clown Motel" book

Enjoy this sneak peek inside my book Three Nights in the Clown Motel, about my harrowing journey to a haunted clown motel in the desert.

Happy Halloween, everyone.

From Chapter Seven: "An Infestation of Clowns"

The bells hanging from the lobby door jingled when I pushed it open. I blinked in the dim light.

I was surrounded by them. The clowns.

To say that there were “a lot” of them doesn’t quite capture it. While it would be numerically accurate to say the lobby contained over 600 clown dolls, this would also fail to properly capture the horror of the place. Infestation would be a good word. The lobby was infested with clowns.

The first one to greet me was an enormous, shiny Ronald McDonald statue just inside the door. His faded, glazed eyes stared at me inscrutably, his red mouth curled into a smile. He held up a white gloved hand.

I walked past Ronald and saw hundreds of his clown brothers staring down at me from all sides. Stacked on the shelves, dangling from the ceiling, arranged on the floor. Our name is Legion, for we are many, they seemed to say.

Porcelain figurines with delicate features. Plush dolls with rainbow hair. A sad “hobo clown” with a five o’clock shadow. A horned clown face with a handkerchief body, dangling from a nail on the shelf. Grotesque features, deformed hands and feet, mocking grins.

The receptionist from the previous night stood behind the desk, chatting on the phone. How can she remain so calm, I thought, when surrounded by these creatures?

A plastic cage on the desk contained a quintessential “evil clown” doll—red eyes, fangs, claws. This one didn’t even bother me. I was much more disturbed by the clowns with a sly, cocky grin on their face. An evil-looking clown just makes me think of cheap, B-horror films. The quiet, smug grin, however, can only mean one thing: This clown is real, and he thinks about murder all day long.

The receptionist acknowledged my presence with a nod and continued her phone conversation. I stared up at the signed clown photographs behind the desk. One black-and-white clown grinned psychotically, hair disheveled, eyes promising violence and chaos. I took a few steps backwards and bumped into something. It creaked. I turned.

A high, girlish shriek escaped my throat.

I had bumped into a rocking chair containing the ugliest mannequin I had ever seen. He wore a sheen fabric costume of rainbow stripes, with a matching conical hat. Aside from the red pompom, it could have been a Klansman’s hood. His wooden hands had been painted with eerie realism—detailed knuckles and veins and bones. I squinted, fancying the possibility that they were real, dehydrated human hands.

And the face. Oh God, the face. It was a smooth, waxen figure of indeterminate age. The corners of its crimson mouth turned gently upward, its eyes half-shut in opioid glee. It was the smug smile of Zen-peace-meets-psychopathy.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist held one hand over the receiver.

“I just need to pay for last night. I’m in room twelve.”

She slid the credit card machine across the counter and went back to the phone. I decided I’d ask about the rocking chair clown later on—this was all too much to handle on an empty stomach. I signed the receipt and headed out into the cold morning air, giving one last look over my shoulder.

To read more, check the book out today!

The clown breakfast bowl

A couple months after my visit to the haunted Clown Motel, my aunt gave me this lovely breakfast bowl. She knows me too well.

Apparently, she ate cereal out this fun bowl as a child in the 1950s. Like pretty much everything vintage and clown-themed, it is now scary as hell.

"The best part of waking up...is terror in your cup."

The clown doll with the moving hand

The lobby of the "Clown Motel," in Tonopah, NV, is filled with hundreds of clown figurines. One of them is this life-sized doll.

"I call him 'Mister Creepy,'" the receptionist tells me. "He gives me such a weird feeling when I'm in here alone."

She swears that she has seen his left hand move on its own. Twice.

"I finally put that other doll on top of his hand to keep it from moving. But other employees have told me that it still moves sometimes anyway."

Many guests refuse to look the doll in the eyes. They can't stand to even stand near it for very long.

"We had a professional psychic come through here," the receptionist says. "She told me, 'This doll has something inside it.'"

Mister Creepy and hundreds of his friends await you here in Tonopah. Tonight will be my third night in the Clown Motel.

Journey to the Clown Motel: the beginning

The haunted clown motel. 

Located in a remote town in the deserts of Nevada, the entire motel is clown-themed. Clown dolls fill the lobby, and paintings of clowns are in every room. 

Some guests say they have seen the silhouette of a clown standing outside their window at night. 

As if that wasn't enough, an Old West graveyard lies right next to the motel. 

I will be spending the weekend there. 

I plan on writing a couple books about my time at the "Clown Motel" of Tonopah, Nevada...if I make it out alive. Stay posted for my frequent updates. You can follow my live posts on social media: 

Twitter: @SchmidtTales
Facebook: @HolyGhostStories

Stay tuned.

Kiss ass

Would you just look at this kiss ass right here.

Meeting R. L. Stine

I had the honor of meeting renowned horror author R.L. Stine at the San Diego Writers' Conference this year.

Extremely affable, down-to-earth guy, and one of the most humorous public speakers I've ever heard.

And now he has a copy of my book, "Holy Ghosts."

Kramer in a jazz band

That moment when you discover Cosmo Kramer playing in a jazz band in Mexico City...

Author of "The Exorcist" on Johnny Carson (1974)

I came across this old video after reading that William Peter Blatty, author of "The Exorcist" and the film's screenplay, had appeared on The Johnny Carson Show.

The interview with him is fascinating, but so is everything else about the episode. The pacing is much slower and less flashy than modern TV, and the audience reaction more subdued. People had a greater ability to take their time processing what they were watching.

Despite the differences, though, the "current events" in Johnny's monologue are timeless: a pipeline that threatens the environment. A celebrity with controversial political views. And, of course, unthinkable scandals in Washington.

If only we had an Exorcist who could rid our world of these things.

Episode of "The Johnny Carson Show" from January 17, 1974. Blatty interview begins 51:40 into the video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEKPFSRqY-o

Swordplay

Selling my latest Baron Von Hugenstein book at a recent Belegarth sword fighting event.

Homecoming 2016 at the haunted college

Peddling my ghost lore at the Homecoming events of my alma mater, Point Loma Nazarene University.

Mamá Lola conoce el libro de los chaneques

Un momento histórico:

Por primera vez, Mamá Lola conoce el libro que contiene las historias de los chaneques que ella vivió en carne propia.

Comentó:

"Está muy bonito el libro, y todo eso es cierto. Yo lo sé porque yo lo viví. Pasó hace muchos años, pero yo me acuerdo. Qué bueno que existe el libro, porque ahora muchas otras personas pueden conocer estas historias también. Y no van a desaparecer."

El libro "El grito del chaneque" está disponible aquí. 

"The Narrators" storytelling hour

Action shots of the storytelling hour, "The Narrators" podcast, that took place October 11 at "Tiger! Tiger!" Bar in San Diego.

Me telling my own thrilling tale of adventure, "Cyril, the Friendly Russian Skinhead."

Eating a crap roll this Friday

One of these sushi names could use a little marketing help...

My encounter with The Raven

My first encounter with a live raven. I feel like Odin up in here.

" But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said "Nevermore.""

Los gatos del cementerio - Cemetery cats

[English below]

 En un cementerio de Coyoacán, incontables gatos hacen guardia en las puertas. Como macabras sentinelas, se congregan en silencio. No se mueven, no se acercan a los transeúntes ni se van corriendo, nada de maullidos, apenas si parpadean.

Aquí se quedan. Sentados, viendo. Esperando a alguien...o algo. ¿Estarán aquí para que nadie entre a profanar el camposanto...o para evitar que alguien salga de ahí?

Lo cierto es que estos felinos se alimentan de las ratas del panteón. Ya sabemos de qué se alimentan las ratas. No cabe duda - de manera indirecta, estos gatos consumen carne humana.

* * * *

In this cemetery of Coyoacán, Mexico City, dozens of cats stand sentinel at the gates. Sitting in silence, barely moving, never crying.

They sit and they stare. Waiting for someone...or something. Are they here to keep someone from coming in...or from getting out?

One fact cannot be avoided - these cats eat the graveyard rats. The rats...well, you can imagine what they eat. Thus, these are cats that, indirectly, survive by consuming human flesh.

Festival Macabro: "Histeria"

Con Carlos Melendez y otros creadores de "Histeria", una de las mejores películas de suspenso que he visto jamás.

Ganadora del premio de Mejor Dirección en el Festival Macabro, Ciudad de México 2016.

Festival Macabro: clausura con Tyler MacIntyre

La ceremonia de clausura del Festival Macabro, en el Museo de la Ciudad de México.

Con la presencia de Tyler MacIntyre, director del largometraje horror-comedia "Patchwork".

Macabro film festival: Stuart Gordon

Chilling with Stuart Gordon, director of "Re-Animator" and many other horror greats.
Bloody good time.