I have only TWO favorite holidays during the year: Halloween and Christmas. Psst…this post will be about my love of Halloween and writing horror fiction, just in case you couldn’t see the obvious lurking. ^_^
Starting when I was a little girl, I was enchanted by Halloween. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a day of free candy, dressing up in fun costumes, and getting the candy corn scared out of you! Muhahahahaha!
However… my parents were into some strange religion, so me and my siblings weren’t allowed to enjoy or participate. Sad. u_u
Although, my sister and I got to watch a Halloween party in a church’s basement once! It wasn’t our church, but we just happened to visit it. We saw a guy dressed as Freddy Kruger and became giggly, as he got on the dance floor with a green witch. However, we wondered if it was the real Freddy, got freaked out, and ran away! Ah, that was the best Halloween of our childhood. ^o^/
By the time we broke free of the Halloween ban, it was too late, in our late teens. The neighbors were mean, insisting that we were “too old for candy”, and they slammed their doors on us. Sad again. u_u
However, in spite of the ban, I had been writing horror since age ten. Unfortunately, they were child-like ripoffs of my favorite horror author at the time, Stephen King. Yes, I wrote a story about a spooky woods, where a group of children encounter a creepy killer clown. Sound familiar? I was a huge fan of the movie “IT” and was too young to know what plagiarism was, nor did I have any knowledge of the term “fan fiction”. ;^_^>
I would spend hours reading tons of Stephen King’s books and watching his movies, then run off to make my peewee versions of his stories, without realizing that I was copying his work. You know what they say about imitation, right? Flattery and all that.
In my teens, I actually wrote Mr. King, telling him how awesome I thought he was, and how I wanted to be a writer just like him. He replied back and sent me a few xeroxed copies of his lessons for writers.
I have those papers locked in storage, but I never let go of a few of Mr. King’s tips: 1.) Write about what you know. 2.) Don’t use words that you have to look up and skip a thesaurus. If you have to spend effort in learning the word or finding an alternative for it, most likely it doesn’t belong in your manuscript. 3.) Screw agents, avoid them at all costs! They’re greedy bastards and do very little for your work.
Seriously, an entire page was dedicated against even thinking about hiring a literary agent, in a rant about how they screwed him over time and time again. o_O
I was grateful for the effort spent in sending me the pages and I continued to write. By age fourteen, I began to come up with my own original crap… I mean, lovely horror stories. My first drafts were rocky at best.
Pretty soon, I began to improve a little and actually scare some people with my horror scribbles. However, I got curious and began writing in many other genres, Horror is still my most favorite genre to write and I get in the mood to write it every autumn.
Currently, I’m writing a very gory teen story. No, not a remake of “Carrie”, its something completely opposite, upside down, and a bit twisted. I’m not sure if I’ll finish it. Even if I did, most likely I wouldn’t consider it for my “to publish someday” pile. It would fall straight to my “junk pile”.
Why? Well, because I write this time of year just for fun. I’m never serious enough with my horror stories during this month. Writing horror in October is my grown-up “trick-or-treat”. I get to live a part of my childhood that I never got to have or experience. My character become my costumes, the freedom of words become my candy, and listening to spooky music while writing is the scaring the candy corn out of myself part. ^_^v
That’s why Halloween is my favorite holiday, I get to play across pages with dark ink, fall into terrifying worlds, and then try to convince myself that there’s nothing standing behind me, watching patiently for me to stop typing. Because the moment I stop the words, it’s fixated stare on the moving cursor will end, and it will resume to its plans of bashing my skull into the screen and then ripping out my neck.
As long as I don’t turn around and keep typing, I am safe. If I pretend that the harsh breathing, warm putrid breath on the back of my neck, and the slick dripping of saliva on my left shoulder is not there… it can’t make a move. The moment I stop moving my fingers, is the moment that it will come into my reality… and…
Happy October, everyone! ^_^v