Seventy-five Days of Phobias Day 39: Roz Groves Is Crabby

To celebrate the upcoming release of my third novel, Driving in Neutral—a love story about claustrophobia—I am running the 75 Days of Phobia series. Thanks to everyone who’s been following along and everyone who’s joined in to share. As Olivia, the heroine in Driving in Neutral says to Maxwell the claustrophobe, “Everyone’s afraid of something.” I’d like to add that there’s always something that scares people AND makes them crabby. Just Ask Roz Groves.

There’s not a hell of a lot I am genuinely afraid of, other than running out of books to read, and poor grammar. The list of stuff that creeps me out is long (clowns, touching foam, my daughter’s favourite doll), however there are very few things that leave me sweating out bullets of pure fear.


I’m comin’ for you, Roz.

Except for crustaceans!

Yes, crustaceans! Kabourophobia means Crabs, lobsters and other members of their evil clan make my skin crawl in terror.

I’m not talking about the pre-prepared, delicious types cooked and soaked in butter and Sriracha hot sauce! Cut those puppies up and get them into my belly RIGHT NOW.

Oh no, it’s the live ones that scare the living suitcase out of me.

My fear of the snappy beasts of the deep began on the jetty at Greenwell Point – thanks to a great piece of early 1980s parenting. My dear late father decided that letting a crab go to run after my child-self was a good idea….until I nearly ran off the end and into the water to escape its grasp. Apparently, it was only a tiny little thing, but there is no amount of effort that could have convinced me that I wasn’t being chased by some giant mutant crab the size of a car.


I want a piece of you, Roz.

That was more than thirty years ago now, but from then on, the simple prospect of even walking past a seafood restaurant with lobster tanks out the front has been enough to freak me out – I just know they’re waiting for the moment where they can break out and come after me with those horrible, bitey pincers of theirs (Are they Oldbitey pincers, Roz?). I even have to look away when they drag up the pots on Deadliest Catch.

I’d rather spend a day in a room full of clowns than a second in the company of those pinchy bastards. Thanks for that one, Dad!


Roz is a reader of romance, reviewer of books, frustrated writer, possessor of zero rhythm or athletic prowess, and a big fan of the bizarre.

She is incredibly passionate about reading and writing, and often have to hold herself back from correcting grammar at highly inappropriate moments. She also has an unfortuLobster-Claw-Sucker_21716-lnate tendency towards laughing until she can’t breathe or speak – usually at entirely random things such as product reviews on Amazon (sugarfree gummy bears, people!).

Find Roz here:


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