The month is almost gone. You know what that means - just a couple more nights and Trick or Treat! Then it’s candy time. About the only thing scary about that are the pounds that seem to go along with each delicious bite of Milky Way, chocolate kiss, or cinnamon ball. (And always remember the cardinal rule of Halloween: always buy the candy you don’t mind being stuck with!)
This October we have celebrated all things associated with Halloween. We have read some wonderful stories in the ‘Pumpkin Patch’ this month. They made me hungry, made me drool, made me think of a first date, and want pumpkin-flavored anything. Not to mention the hot males that the lovely ladies of the P4Ht invented. Did I say drool? Oh, yeah!
Whether or not it’s Halloween, one thing that is always scary to a writer is not finishing that WIP!
Here is a snippet from a WIP, Full Moon and Foul Play
The three boys were stone-still, the soccer ball rolling down the sidewalk. Their eyes were big and their mouths open. All of them stared at the tall man who had approached them. His request would have sounded so reasonable to the average bystander. “Can you boys tell me which house is the Franklin House, the Bed and Breakfast?”
Sammy got his voice first. “Mister, are you sure? You’re really talking about the Frankenstein . . . uh, the Franklin House?”
Gerald, the leader of the group and natural skeptic, turned his head slightly toward the house, narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. “Nah, you don’t want that Bed and Death house. You want to go on out of town to the Motel 6. My Dad says it’s okay for one night.”
The six-foot-two Taylor Gordon was perplexed. Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes and to wonder just what the boy meant, or rather what his dad meant. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m sure. I want the house owned by Miss Dahlia Franklin that is a Bed and Breakfast, and I plan to stay a little longer than one night.”
Taylor looked at Danny. “Son, you haven’t said anything. What do you think about the Franklin House?” He couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Am I making a mistake staying there?” His smile showed genuine amusement and not a little curiosity after hearing the responses of the other two boys.
The boy shrugged and cocked his head. As he walked away, he said as nonchalantly as an eight-year-old could, “Don’t make no never mind to me. You’ll end up dead. She might be the prettiest witch around, but I wouldn’t eat anything she cooked.”
Trick or Treat! Catch a broom, scare somebody, and eat some candy! What is your favorite treat for Halloween? Now, there you go again, clean up those thoughts!