The flash fiction assignment this month in my writing group was to write a Halloween story.
I know, shocking huh?
So I wrote one. I liked the idea that I had for one, and the part I liked best about it was that I was pretty sure it was something I could read to Handsome. I think he gets annoyed sometimes that I'm writing almost constantly but he can't read or see any of it. I do write "The Adventures of Tommy and Eric" for him, and he likes them, but I think he's curious about everything else.
So I wrote It's a Powerful Thing (clicking on the title will get you to the story on my website, just in case you were curious), and I ran it by his mother to see if it was too scary for him. I have a story that I wrote last year called Red Lady's Story that I was going to read to him for Halloween, but we decided it was a little too strong for him then, especially right before bed.
But I had It's a Powerful Thing, and I edited it with him in mind, asked a couple of people about it, ran it by his mother, and it was a go. So last night I read it to him as he lay there in bed and tried to fall asleep. Afterward I had a few people who breezed through my website asking me how he did with it, if he was going to have any nightmares. I had to tell them I didn't know, but I didn't think so. 'What did he say?' they asked, 'What was his reaction?'
He didn't have one, really, either positive or negative. So this morning I called the house as I was driving to work and I asked him about it.
"So ... did you have any bad dreams? About the Fyghmant?"
"Well ... no."
But he had hesitated, so I poked him about it again.
"So, it wasn't too scary?"
There was a longer pause, and then:
"I'm sorry Dad ... that story ... I just didn't get it."
Oh well, that was a lot of worry for nothing.
So... tonight, Red Lady's Story.
...and if that doesn't work, there's always Texas Chainsaw Massacre!