Some places are just meant to be portrayed in fiction. Last year, I sped to Memphis for some location research with Shayla Kersten. I blogged about my adventures there—the long conversation with the police officer investigating a robbery, my travels with John the trolleyman and the church he suggested I could desecrate (for my story, of course).
One place in particular that caught my eye was this “castle” in a seedy area of the city.
I made Shayla pull over so we could take pictures. Ashlar Hall is creepy and used to be owned by a local personality who goes by the name of “Prince Mongo” from the planet Zambodia. I’m not kidding, I swear. He exists and this is his picture.
Gotta love a man who’s not ashamed to wear a rubber chicken.
Anyway, the property was surrounded by wrought iron fencing which was padlocked, and since I’m not much into climbing these days or being arrested, I didn’t get any closer than this to take pictures.
Love the car parked outside. It totally adds to the decrepit air of the place. I’ve tried and tried to come up with a nice creepy story set inside this house but haven’t hit upon the right idea. Most of my ideas are more suited to comedy. It seems like the kind of place that would appeal to Emmy O’Hara from the MIK stories.
When you look at the pictures of the house (try to blot out of your mind Prince Mongo’s pic!), what sort of story comes to mind?