Fiction, Horror, short story

The Goblin Saint of All Hallow’s Eve (part 11)

October 11th

(Last Year)

Today I stuck a pumpkin sticker in the book Cas reads after dinner. When she found it, she came to my room and knocked lightly on my door.

“Come in,” I said. She sort of shuffled in with her head down. “What do you want?”

She wasn’t her usual loud, obnoxious self though. I almost couldn’t understand her when she started talking. “Will you please stop doing this?” She asked, holding up the sticker.

“I don’t know what thiiiiis is,” I said, snatching the sticker from her hand.

“Look, I don’t care anymore. I’m really getting freaked out because I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. I’ve started having nightmares and I’m losing sleep. You’ve made your point. Please just stop.”

“It’s… not… me. This has the Goblin Saint written all over it.”

“Fine! Your prank is going to far. You’ve left me no choice. I’m telling mom and dad.”

“Eww… not a good idea Sis. I heard the Goblin Saint force feeds the guts from carved pumpkins to the kids that tell adults about the little mementos he leaves. Hope you like raw pumpkin innards because that’s what you’ll be eating for eternity.”

Cas didn’t say anything else. She simply turned and slunk out of my room. I’m not positive but I think she started to cry.

(This Year)

A super creepy jack-o’-lantern sticker fell out of a gaming magazine I pulled out of the mailbox. I heard it slap the concrete. When I looked down, there was a toothy grin staring up at me. Who is doing this? Did my parents find out somehow and were giving me a sample of what Cas went through? But how would they know where to place the pumpkins or what letters to use? I hope I can catch the perpetrator tonight. I know what the next move will be.

Fiction, Horror, short story

The Goblin Saint of All Hallow’s Eve (part 6)

October 6th

(Last Year)

I put another plastic pumpkin in one of my sister’s shoes. On this one I wrote the letter O. I know she found it because she did a little dance when she started to put on her shoes. The kind of dance you do when your foot touches something unexpected.

She didn’t say a word to me, which was nice for a change. However, she did shoot me a look that could wither fresh cut flowers. I just acted like I didn’t notice anything.

(This Year)

I tapped the heel of my shoe on the floor before putting it on. Sure enough, a plastic pumpkin rolled out and across the floor. Everything is playing out just like a year ago. This is starting to fray my nerves. I’m doing my best to keep it together.

Creative Writing, Poems, Poetry, Spoken Word, Writing

The Front Lines

  This week has been much better for my writing.  I finished a poem and finished a first draft of a short story and got it typed up. I also sent a poem in for a writing prompt competition.

   The poem below is from my teacher days, which lasted a few years.  I figured I’d share it in honor of teacher appreciation week.  As always, feel free to like, share, and comment.  Stay Focused and Write On!

The Front Lines


I’m on the front lines every day.


I have to dig trenches where

I know it’s important to make a stand,

while letting students sneak past my defenses.

“You can’t win every battle,” 

but I’m told you must win the war

against poor grammar that really only chafes me 

like a too tight chin strap

while others view it as the gangrene limb

that infects others with the stink of unintelligence.


I’m on the front lines every day.


I have to fight flack jacket fire

and the mortar rounds boom

of blame placed too soon

on teachers for not doing their jobs, 

by a Society that’s forgotten its 

duty to their children.


I jump on “your gays”

and F-bomb grenades

before they spread like a plague 

from mouth to ear to mouth,

causing thousand yard stares

in students unaware

of the booby-traps and snares

riddling their routes.


I’m on the front lines every day.


I have to protect my students 

from the shell-shock of taking 

too many tests that only provide

a grainy shot, a moment in time

of this mine field we call 

public education.


I have to get them past

the rat-tat-tat-tat

machine gun blast

of growing up too fast

while  giving them the skills to survive

through the battle field of life.


I’m on the front lines every day!

Creative Writing, Fiction, Poetry, Writing, Writing Excercises


   Last week I talked a bit about procrastination.  This week I’ve managed to get my own procrastination in check for the most part. I did a bit of editing, wrote a piece of flash fiction that I submitted, and tinkered with some poems. With a new wave of snow coming down, I hope I can stay focused.

  I’ll know sometime next week if the flash fiction piece wins the writing prompt competition I entered it into. Either way, I plan on sharing it with you, so look for it next week. In the mean time, I plan on doing some more editing, some new writing, and staying focused enough to keep the procrastination monster at bay. Starting is always the hardest part but once I get going, it’s pretty easy.
I’ll leave you with a few methods I use to getting words down.
#1 Free write: Just sit down and write for 10-15 minutes with no regards to what you’re writing. Think stream of consciousness. See what you have at the end of the time and carve something usable out of it.
#2 Get out of the house:  Go somewhere, anywhere, and do something, anything.  I tend to get inspiration from unlikely places or snippets of a conversation I overhear. There’s no better place to drum up ideas than the real world.
#3 Use a prompt: There’s no limit to the number of prompts out there designed to break writer’s block or end procrastination. Do a quick Google search or pull one out of a writing book if you have one. 

These are three quick ways that help get me motivated again.  I usually wind up with something I can work with later on, but the main thing is they help get the creative juices flowing. So if you find yourself stuck, try one of these. The important thing is to get writing again. Nothing ever gets accomplished by doing nothing. Stay focused and Write On.
Creative Writing, Poems, Poetry, Writing

White Knight

Well, winter arrived in full force this past week or so in Indiana. Stupid snow. I thought we would dodge it this year, but it wasn’t meant to be. Have I mentioned I hate snow.  When it’s cold, like subzero cold, I usually get a severe case of procrastination fever. I just want to bum around the house and hibernate until spring. Which is why this one’s getting posted so late. I’m sure there’s a poem in there somewhere about how much I despise snow. We’ll see, but until that works its way out, a short poem to hold you over. The title could be wintery if you like word play. Stay focused and Write On!

White Knight

I won’t play chess with you anymore 

Your white knight turned out to be a lowly pawn

Your king was daddy’s approval on fleeting wings

And the queen plays tricks with hearts